September 19th, 2004

good mris pic

Conversations With My Brain In the Shower

Brain: What are we doing on the book today?
Me: Nothing. We're taking Sundays off.
Brain: Chapter 43? There's good stuff in Chapter 43. It might even be funny. We could use some funny about now.
Me: No book! Sundays off!
Brain: Okaaaaay...so in this rock sprite story, the bit with the first spiral--
Me: Day off means we take a break.
Brain: When we took a break yesterday afternoon, we finished Chapters 40 and 41.
Me: You finished Chapters 40 and 41. I huddled in the corner meeping. Day off means no writing.
Brain: Oh, okay, no writing. So about the revisions on Thermionic Night --
Me, between my teeth: Revisions are writing.
Brain: No, they're not.
Me: Yes, they are. Don't you ever shut up?
Brain: I could start singing if you want. I could sing the song about the hospital for nerds and how only stupid people are breeding.
Me: I'll counter with a Bob Dylan version. Don't think I won't. "Iiiiii'm noooot siiiick, but Iiiii'm noooot weeeeeeell" -- oh, great, now I've sunk to your level.
Brain: Heehee. You live at my level.
Me: It certainly doesn't help that you're in league with markgritter about the zombies.
Brain: Tsalmoths. Heehee. Tsalmoths.
Me: You're never going to get any older than 12, are you?
Brain: Nope.
good mris pic

We Will Know Them By Their

Continuing the "M'ris is mentally twelve" theme, last night upon meeting one of you poor people, I blurted, "Oh, you're one of my friends!" Livejournal. Aiding my social gracelessness since...hmm, only since 2003 or so, I guess.

eileenlufkin has a livejournal name even more sneaky and hard to decipher than mine. But some of the rest of you are quite pseudonymous. Others have icons that are not even trying to look like you. (pameladean, for example, has no wings. Neither does merriehaskell. matociquala does not look like any television spy ever...although I might very well watch a spy show with her in it if they ever made such a thing.)

So what I want to know is, if I don't know you know, how will I know you if I meet you? For the people who don't know you, how will they? You will be the one who's wearing lime green tights? You will be the one who offers to let people pet your stuffed head cold virus? You will be the one who mutters clever jokes about jazz saxophonists when you think no one is listening? Which one is you?