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| I don't know what it is about January, but it seems to be fucking
always full of goddamn protests. I mean, shit. Why January? Why the
fuck can't we march in spring, goddammit?
Anti-war demonstration yesterday was huge; the March for Life on Monday
was huger. I ran at both of them, and thank god didn't have to treat
anything worse than hypothermia.
I know Roe anniversary is Jan 22 and all but fuck. There is plenty of nice, warm, springtime, just ripe for the protesting.
Uh, protesting in. Protesting in springtime. Not protesting springtime. I'm a big fan.
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| Well, not really. I ain't sleeping with anyone. For that matter, I ain't hardly sleeping - but that's another point entirely.
Shiva's been down on the farm with Jax and Dex, mostly. And with my mom mostly moved in with her new ten-minute romance, it leaves me alone at home a whole helluva lot. Thank God I work so damn much or I'd drive myself crazy.
Nights are hardest, though. Too many memories. Too much empty space in my bed. | | |
| So over. 'Least, that's what I'm hoping. DC weather does freak things sometimes, though.
Our girl (&co!) is coming home this weekend - happy doesn't begin to describe it.
Things between Shiv and I have been... confusing.
And I'm thinking I should, one of these days, go to college. Not completely decided yet on that issue.
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| Shiva said to me the other day that for the first time in his life, things seemed to be going right.
That made me smile.
He's been helping me out at the dojo a lot, and I'm so grateful he's around (but Mol,
that doesn't mean I don't want you back here anymore!). But mostly he
seems to be enjoying himself, and he seems to feel he's got a reason
for sticking around this planet a bit longer, and that makes me happy.
Also, I am so damn ready for winter to be over.
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| November: No zombie hunters have shown up at my house. But I'm still well prepared, katanas at the ready.
My god of destruction
(and/or sex) has returned for a visit, for however long. It's
always nice to see him and I've learned (after all these years) to stop
asking how long he's staying, just as I've learned to stop asking, when
he inevitably leaves, when he'll return. Maybe, finally, I'm
getting to that place where I can just accept things with him like they
are. It's always been hard for me to do, maybe more so than any of the
other Anjuls, and I think that that's because when he ran away, first,
back in Chicago, when we were young, I assumed he'd died. I tried not
to think about it too much, after the first few months, after I moved
with my family to Maryland; but any time I did think of him (more often
than was healthy maybe) I figured he was probably dead, because what
nine year old could live on the streets so long?
And then I found him again - or Mol did. And that was good. But forever after it always was hard to see him go again.
But - we aren't nine years old anymore. So, finally, maybe, I can accept this.
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