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a passionate repentance



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may God stand
Pretty is as pretty doesn't, I guess. The pen I bought because I fell in love with how it looked turned out to be fairly nonfunctional. Whereas the butt ugly pens all work. There's a lesson in there somewhere but I'm hoping if I resolutely ignore it long enough it'll get tired and go away.

I finished my training yesterday and actually ran the room. I only screwed up like ten times, so I guess that's not too terrible. Cajun was really nice about it all. And I still don't know what to do about the button problem.

I'm in this wierd place where I'm calm and apprehensive, waiting for the shoe to drop and still trying to enjoy the moment and stop worrying. Not schizoid? Nope. Not me.

I feel so sick and so sad whenever I read about Abu Ghraib. Now they're saying that kids were sodomized, that the videotapes were suppressed, that the international investigative agencies can't get in to actually *talk* to the kids. And me, I'm thinking..when are we going to actually touch buttom? When will we really know the worst, so we can take a deep breath, and say "Oh, My God. We have to get to work. We have a hell of a lot to do."

I'm going to commit the unthinkable, by the way. I'm going to throw a fountain pen away. It doesn't write, it is butt ugly, and it has little or no collectable value seeing as it's a no-name. The nib is broken. So..(steeling myself)..here I go.

I'll let you know if I survive the process.
  • Thanks for picking up my fic request! I can't wait to see what you come up with!

    ::rubbing hands in wicked anticipation::
    • Your ficlet request was so deliciously ambiguous, I couldn't help myself. Will try emailing your lj account with questions.
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