Ashes woke me up again at three in the morning. It's her new thing. Every evening at the apartment, she falls right asleep around ten, and then wakes up at three, and expects me to wake up with her. It makes for a rocky night's sleep. She falls back about ten minutes later, but I'm sort of left staring at the clock.
Only five more good days left before my life oficially ends at 40. I received an early happy birthday yesterday from a friend who ended her email with, "And relax. 40 isn't THAT bad." I wrote back, saying, "That's like saying that arsenic isn't THAT poisonous." Ah, well, I've taken two days off to recover from the pain.
On a totally different note, I am so pleased that Sir Elton has become the poster boy for the civil partnership act in Great Britain.
No really, what a long way he’s come from those days of denial in the seventies, when he was demonized in the press for a Rolling Stone interview where he simply admitted to liking “both girls and boys—I draw the line at goats haha.” That uproar cost him a huge amount of popularity in America, and forced him into deep denial, punctuated by an unfortunate unhappy marriage and substance abuse problems.
So it's nice to see what a long yellow brick road he's walked down. Although I know litle about the act itself, other than that it recognizes "civil partnerships" and allows gay partners some of the same tax and inheritance benefits enjoyed under marriage.
It's been tough to grab the computer around here lately. Corb has a new obsession: The Sims 2 Holiday edition , and our router is not working quite right. Since my desktop's the best system we have, he's been hogging it for hours, and when I ask to check my email, berates me for my obsessive computer use. He's home today, though, AND HE'D BETTER FIX THE FUCKING ROUTER IF HE KNOWS WHAT'S GOOD FOR HIM!
I like the music to Sims 2, though. It reminds me of Belle and Sebastian.
And, as I'm typing this, I feel a presence behind me. It's Ashes.
"Can I play Sims 2?" she asks.