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The Toybox

people for the conservation of limited amounts of indignation

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dark days of del.icio.us
children of dune - leto 1
I think I'm in some kind of bizarre post-porn slump. I mean--sure. It's all good and orgasmic, but then you think, what will I do now?

Apparently, that would be rebundling my del.icio.us tags.


It's--I open them at home, and stare at them, thinking, how can I be *more descriptive*, and merryish asked the other day, do you do your own stories? And suddenly, this entire new vista of opportunity presented itself.

Tagging my own stories.

I know them! Finally, finally, I would have a use for the tag Clark-apocalypse and for One Word in Voyager, I could totally have ten separate pairing tags. Ten! And that's before you get to the amnesia and adultery and attempted murder and Q and self-injury and I was like, twenty-three when I wrote that, so judge not, man. That was my Trekkie soap opera. Good times.

Anyway, right.

Del.icio.us, the cure for post-porn depression.

See, I had a theme here.


In other news:

Okay, no, we don't have a hotel, but svmadelyn has her ticket and Child and I have our tickets, so we are definitely going to Chicago and I can honestly state the best thing I can imagine right now is Child's face when he sees dinosaurs and lizards, cause man. So awesome. It's--well. Okay. It's hotwire's fault. We had a hotel picked out. It had breakfast and music during breakfast. It was close to Navy Pier.

Then hotwire wiggles its tentacles at us all "oooh, look, you can get four star for so much less if you just waaaatch and waiiiiittt." Which we did. And are still doing. It's kind of addictive, isn't it? That and priceline, which both me and Madelyn are fascinated by yet terrified to use.

Now, paying deposit for cruise and I am *free*. Well. No. But I could be. Eventually.



Remember when I mentioned the at home parent-teacher conference adn was confronted by Incredibly Attractive Math Teacher? My son came home the other day, giving me a knowing look, which always come across as a fairly disturbing smirk, and sidled up to tell me he isn't married.

You know, I do not want to know how the hell that came up during class. I just don't. Don't, don't, don't.

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Kids are evil, aren't they?

As you are a chocoholic, you must visit this store while you are in Chicago. And bring me back some dark chocolate!

It's cute that you think chocolate could...you know. Survive us. *pats you*

And then after you go to Moonstruck, head for Vosges (about 3 blocks north of it on Michigan Ave). *That* is the good stuff. Trust me. Moonstruck might make it home... Vosges won't.

Nor should it!

PS. When you think you can't eat any more chocolate, know that Vosges now makes ice cream.

I do not want to know how the hell that came up during class.

Someone asked straight up. Probably right before he was going to assign homework.

Teachers share all kinds of things with students. Like one biology teacher told us that he felt sorry for us what with having to use condoms because of AIDS and such, and that back when he used to like fucking his girlfriend during her menstruation without a condom. Also that as a teenager he smoked pot to get the courage to ask out his first girlfriend. Ah, the joy having ex-hippies for teachers. Still that was better than the lapsed catholic who rambled on and on about her divorce issues.

Yeah, I've been to a teacher's wedding. Bought them a gift, too (they were both teachers.) And I've been a teacher's memorial service.

I was kinda impressed by the male coaches who taught health class at my high school, because they really were earnest and up-front about their experiences, when I didn't expect them to be.

Heh. guys often are. The male coach I had substitute in a health class joked about when he was younger running into a couple high school students who he had subbed for in line at the VD clinic. He explained the procedure, and that he'd luckily been ok, but his friend hadn't been, etc.

if you don't mind crashing at my place, I can spare you hotel stuff, as I have sleeper sofa AND futon-couch.

You know, I do not want to know how the hell that came up during class. I just don't. Don't, don't, don't.


http://travel.yahoo.com lets you pick hotels based on proximity to an address. I've used it a lot, though I always call the hotels to find out if I can get a better rate and book through them, not yahoo.

Things not to do when booking a hotel in an unfamiliar city

I did this thing once where I only did internet research to book a hotel. It was the closest one to the wedding reception I was going to, and gratifyingly affordable. It was called the Town & Country Inn. The photos were fairly pleasing.

Then I arrived. And they asked if I qualified for the trucker's discount. And there was a strip club just off the lobby. And the alarm clock was built into the bed, which *vibrated* at the appointed hour (sadly: broken).

My relations all asked if I wasn't staying with everyone else at the Sheraton, then where was I? Oh, at the Town and Country, I would reply airily, hoping to just move on past that. But they would all get bug-eyed and say incredulously, "You mean the T & C? You're actually *staying* there? I've never met anyone who ever spent the night."

Apparently it is the place to go in high school when you're feeling naughty, and also the place where you can pick up hookers on your bicycle. Yay.

Also: I feel your del.icio.us pain. It owns my life right now.

The number of random questions I was asked on a regular basis while teaching was staggering. Some I answered; some I ignored; some I explicitly stated, "That's none of your business," and went back to teaching. *g*

"Are you married?" came up at least once every semester. (I was wearing a wedding ring at the time and introduced myself as "Señora" (I taught Spanish), so "what do you think?" was the usual response, neatly avoiding the question of whether I was legally married to a man. ;) )

I have a relationship with Hotwire which borders on the inappropriate. I'm this close to inventing trips just for an excuse to book the hotel.

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I filtered it, since the remainder is going to be all--disjointed. It also hates me a lot. I mean, a *lot*.

my (male) health teacher once showed the class how to put on a condom orally on a banana, so you "wouldn't spoil the mood".

Huh. I just made a del.icio.us account today and started with tagging my own fics. (Admittedly, my purpose in making the account was to slyly and underhandedly pimp them.)

But now I'm addicted to making tags and trolling the intarwebs for anything I can add. I even have a bundle ("my fics"), and I want more. More and MOAR.

I don't think I can stop. 0__o

Your son is MADE OF WIN. \o/

Hey, Body World is at the MSI. You *must* see that. I made the 20 minute trek to the city last week, and it rocked the Casbah.


And also eat at Ed Debevick's. The kids will love the place.

*twitches* Now I want to have a day in the city...damn homework.

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