Don't let me go for two dollars. Oh, the shame of it if no one bids on me for a crit. I don't want to end up against the wall while everyone's dancing. I'll be staring at the potted palm pretending not to care that one one's looking my way.
Naw...Seriously, you know what? The life of a wall-flower is okay.
I've learning to let go again--about the umpteenth time I've had to in this life. (We all have to do this, usually more than once, so I'm not feeling special.) The idea isn't to take on the "Fuck 'Em if They Can't Take a Joke" attitude which seems unnecessarily hostile, not to mention still about the attention-seeking part of our natures. More like "Jokes Are Funny Even When You're the Only One Listening"
And potted palms are really very interesting plants. Monocots.
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This sort of attempting to find dignity in small matters reminds me about the Dead Like Me glom. Did I mention my current favorite fictional character is Dolores "her big brown eyes" Herbig? She's a familiar stereotype and, thank god, she remains eye-rollingly dopey and cringe-worthy through the show, but she is too wonderful. I grew to love her. I'm glad they decided to make her more than a joke. Actually, I miss her and plan to lead my life according to WWDHD ...um. To a degree.
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My middle son is destroying my life.
He showed me tvtropes.org which is sucking hours from my life. Damn, it's fun. Mooks = villianous forms of red shirts.
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UPDATE This whole no, I don't feel sorry for myself and what do you mean this is a dark room? unintentionally semi-martyr attitude is going to be ruined if my crit actually goes for real money in this auction or you people buy my books. Then what'll I do? Find something new to whine about and/or cope with? Sure!
I promise it won't be swine flu.