The usual roundup post

There are things I've been thinking about for the past week, or things that happen to me, and I think, oh, I should write a post about that! And then I sit down to write the post--and I can't remember what on earth I was planning to say. It's sort of embarrassing, the number of things I've forgotten to talk about, but here are a few of the things I can remember.

• The unpacking is coming along nicely. I'm amazed by how much easier these things are when you have the space to do it; my hanging clothes actually fit in my closet, for example, and that makes me so happy that I sometimes am compelled to throw my closet doors open and stare. And that reminds me that I've found my digital camera and am game to start spamming you like crazy--maybe I'll start as early as this weekend, aren't you lucky?--but I'll warn you first and put everything under a cut, so you needn't bother if houses aren't something you spend much time mooning over.



• I have some kind of insect bite on my cheek, received I think Thursday morning, and geek that I am I keep remembering that this is supposedly how Tutankhamen died. If I die from this bite, flist, I want you to take care of my last wishes: solid gold casket, priceless jewels and funerary urns, pets mummified to keep me company in the afterlife, a huge stone tomb built on the banks of the Mississippi River from the labor of teamsters because I hear there is some kind of law against slavery here. Thank you for your cooperation in this matter.



• My mother is wavering a bit on the aforementioned Greyhound Negotiations. She wants me to have a big, kind-of-intimidating dog about, but you know, she's not quite sure she wants it to be her dog, even if my parents did originally adopt Titus with me in mind. I did suspect this might happen, and I'm not grief-stricken; I do adore Titus mightily, but really, I know how hard it is to try and give up a pet, and I don't want to traumatize my family by insisting that my parents hold to their word.
  
  So I'm keeping my options open, and my, there are certainly a lot of options out there. Really, all you have to do is mention that you're in the market for a dog, and suddenly you're inundated with offers. "Well, I know this girl who has..." "My sister's fostering..." "I have an Australian Shepherd who..." "A friend of mine's dog just had puppies and..."
  
  Want to join in? Know a good dog who needs a home? I have specific needs, though: must be fully grown and housetrained. Must be cat-tested and (eventually) Flannery-approved. Must be reasonably even-tempered. Must be an inside dog. Must be fixed, or by god he or she will be. Other things are negotiable, but man, the list, it is long, no? You see why Ti was such a good idea.



• OMG YOU KNOW HOW WHEN SOMEONE WHOSE TASTE YOU TRUST RECS A FIC TO YOU AND IT'S A HUGE WIP AND NOT REALLY YOUR OTP ANYWAY AND IT HAS THE SAPPIEST GODDAMN TITLE IN THE WORLD SO YOU AVOID READING IT FOR A BIT BUT YOU READ THE REST OF THIS WRITER'S SHORTER STORIES AND ENJOY THEM SO MUCH THAT EVENTUALLY YOU FIND YOURSELF OPENING THAT WIP LINK AND YOU READ THE WHOLE GIGANTIC THING THROUGH IN ONE NIGHT AND ADORE IT AND WAIT PATIENTLY FOR MORE BECAUSE YOU HAVE BEEN ASSURED THAT SHE UPDATES REGULARLY BUT THE NEXT THING YOU READ IS THAT SHE'S TIRED OF WRITING IT AND SICK OF HEARING QUESTIONS ABOUT WHEN THE NEXT CHAPTER'S GOING TO BE POSTED AND SO SHE'LL POST THE NEXT CHAPTER WHEN SHE FEELS LIKE IT BUT BY GOD DON'T EXPECT IT TO BE ANYTIME SOON AND YOU FEEL LIKE CRYING BUT INSTEAD JUST SWEAR THAT YOU'LL NEVER READ ANOTHER WIP AGAIN AS LONG AS YOU LIVE.
  
  Or maybe that's just me.



• A thing they don't tell you when you buy a house: you will be suddenly inundated with countless savings coupons. Also about fifteen letters a day begging you to get mortgage insurance because HOW WOULD YOU FEEL IF YOU DIED AND YOUR FAMILY WERE SUDDENLY LEFT HOMELESS YOU SELFISH SHIT. But considering the fact that I doubt anyone is going to allow my family--two cats and a dog, with another on the way--to live on alone in this house when I die of the insect bite on my cheek, I'll skip the mortgage insurance and instead just spend the money instead on the funerary priests who'll mummify them for me.



• Speaking of selfish shits: today I received a petition via email, supposedly for MADD, saying that I would be an unbelievably selfish person if I didn't sign the petition and forward it to every single person I know so that MADD could forward it to the President to...I'm not sure exactly what the President would do with the petition, since it wasn't even a proper petition, just a really tasteless (not to mention terribly godawful) poem written from the point of view of a dying teenager hit by a drunk driver.
  
  And since MADD doesn't even endorse the thing--can you blame them for disclaiming it?--I had no qualms deleting it in my monumental selfishness. But now I'm just hoping that someone does forward it to Bush.



• I am lately preoccupied with water-and-lime.



• Also roast beef sandwiches with mustard.