As soon as I stop being such a lazybutt, I will reinstall my camera-related software, and then if that doesn't work I will install different camera-related software, and there will be pictures like crazy. And among them will be dd_b with an octopus on his head. I asked Robin, "What has Uncle David got on his head?" And he peered and he peered, and finally he said, "Octopus?" in the tone of voice that says, "I know this is some grown-up trick, but I honestly can't figure out what else it is that's on his head. It looks like an octopus to me." I just adore that boy. He makes me laugh.
For a favored auntie, Annie Missa is sometimes unbearably stupid. For example, I insisted on continuing to sit down and eat my dinner when Roo quite clearly expressed that he needed the piano bench I was sitting on. He's patient with grown-up foibles, though, luckily for us.
We almost broke pameladean, but she emerged from the experience intact. Whew.
We have leftover salad, leftover salmon, and reasonable amounts of leftover desserts. The soup and bread were entirely gone by the end of dinner.
I was nearly gone myself by the time we were done with dinner. Tiredy tired tired. Sometimes I am like Roo: I know that I really ought to just go to bed, but I'm not ready to be done yet. I did not resort to walking in circles to keep myself awake, however. We had enough people that maintaining one unified conversation was not particularly possible for very long, and there were a couple of times when I thought, "I should start up a side conversation right about here." But I was sitting between timprov and dd_b, and I knew neither of them would give up on me as permanently hopeless if I had to just let conversation wash past me for awhile. Neither is the sort of person who demands constant sparkliness.
Constant sparkliness is very scary to me. I have been in situations where I was in a quiet mood and just wanted to be peripheral, and the people I was hanging out with would not let me. They kept trying to draw me out the way someone considerate would with a shy person who wanted to be in the center of things but didn't know how. Or even more directly than that. But I know how. It's just that sometimes I don't really have the energy to be sparkly, and when people try to drag it out of me anyway, it's no good. So when porphyrin teases me about turning heads and getting attention, that's what I think of, and I squirm. I know she wouldn't do that to me, but I know other people would, because they have.
I also don't think of myself as "the pretty one" among my friends. We have successfully banished Anime Girl (my old self-image, which was exaggerated in a bad way), but that just makes me think better of how I look, not worse of how my friends look. My friends don't look like me or like each other, mostly. This is good: they all have different charms. Looking like themselves is a good thing. It sounds squishy to say, but I think most of my friends are some flavor of attractive. Many of them tend to wave this away but won't let me get away with doing the waving away, which does not strike me as quite fair. Is this about total orderings again? I think it is.
Sigh. It so often is.
(Not at all by the way, you all should feel free to provide your own answers to the sets of five questions in previous entries, either the ones I answered or the ones I asked. If you so choose.)