If you call me Mary, you're most people nowadays.
If you call me silveryscrape, you know me online.
If you call me Vicki, you're in my family or else I'ma swat you one.
If you call me Tom or Tommy, I knew you when I lived in Taos.
If you call me Mare, you're most likely my friend Mary.
If you call me M, you're Marji or Tyler.
If you call me Ma! or Moneypenny, you're Dan.
If you call me self!!, you're, um. Me. :)
Crystal Method tonight! Suck. I have to work tomorrow.
Okay, so I got one of those printer ink refiller dealies, and I am never going back. I felt all cool and scientific and slightly clandestine, sitting at my desk injecting things into things like I was building a bomb, and I kept waiting for the fbi or somebody to break down my door, although truthfully something like that once happened at a place where I was staying and it really wasn't cool or underground at all. But, heh. Anyway.
First thing I did when I got my printer back up and running was to print out The Book of Secrets. But I forgot it was 2039870975 pages long and kept running out of paper, so I had to use the dusty stained old stuff in the back of my closet and the red scrap paper from the pizza flyers I printed up one time, and I finally settled on using the backs of my labor and delivery notes from nursing school, which felt oddly appropriate and at the same time is a much better use for them than I'll ever get otherwise, seeing as my career seems to be devoted to the other end of the spectrum of life. Also, babies? Not my gig.
But, yeah. rhyssj! Jacie and Chris! I haven't read this since the first time, and I am just poised and ready, but nervous, because I tend to really immerse myself in these kinds of stories and I know I'll be in tears for lots of it, which is not a state I pursue, normally. But for this story, yes.
Tell me, y'all. What stuff that you read affects you like that? I won't tell, I promise.