when it rains...

now that i've ordered the new machine and got my catching up done (except unpacking, which i'll take care of today because, yes, i recognise that still living out of a suitcase when i've been back for a week is absurd) whenever my machine actually works, i can blog, especially since i can't work on my book because my word has crashed...
but this post is to big-up whitey for providing us with this better-than-i've-been-able-to-word-it-thus-far explanation of why i don't celebrate my b'day or know how old i am (yes, i know the date on which i was born, so if it's ever important, some basic math easily provides an answer), largely consider holiday traditions to be time wasted on needless fuss in spite of thoroughly enjoying any and all holidays (which only count if there's days off involved- valentine's and all that shit is exactly that), and don't really do gifts for occassions, but never ignore the perfect one calling out the name of the friend it's destined for as i walk by it...
anyway. check out the link and you'll understand. he speaks my mind.
walk good.