Jesse Hajicek

Here's the skinny on that 'email tax' panic that's been floating around. Clue courtesy of seebs.

Misinformation memes do us all a disservice by wasting our time and attention, sapping our emotional energy, and ultimately training us to be apathetic. If you ever feel a cause is important enough to spread the word about, be sure to include links to reputable, informed sources so people can check out the background on it themselves. And if you're going to be calling for some action, such as petitions, be sure that action is correctly targeted and effective. For instance, I've seen people urging their friends to petition AOL; AOL is a for-profit corporation, folks. Those don't respond to petitions. There is absolutely no point in petitioning them. Use some common sense.

( TMI )

The sin of Sodom was, in fact, a lynch mob. I suspect the reason Lot offered his daughters was to point out to the mob how insane they were being, not because he thought it was okay for the girls to get gangbanged. Not that I try to make the OT make sense. Thank God I'm not a literalist. Literally.

...

If Dan Savage were any hotter, I'd have to read his books with oven mitts on.

...

Seebs said something adorably raunchy in the car today, and I made a mental note to jot it down here for the amusement of all, but that was hours ago. It's gone now.

...

It's a gorgeous day, and I've been drinking sweet iced tea all night; I think I'd better go walk off the caffeine-and-sugar buzz. Lately I've been testing the unwritten rule that says people with headphones are Not Really Here. So far, no one's attempted to interact with me while I had them on. If this streak holds, I might actually start to enjoy walking a mile or two a day, like I used to when I was aggressive and self-centered enough to actually scare off people who dared to, for instance, ask me the time or try to bum a cigarette.

...

Oh yeah, I remember what Seebs said. I was laughing at him for catching a frisbee-golf disc with his hand and hurting himself; those things are heavy and hard and have sharpish edges, they're designed to hit inanimate objects, not your hand. Catching them is stupid. "Stupid, but macho," said the Seebs. "While you in some ways resemble people who like macho..."

"Empirically... no," I drawled, glancing at his nerdy bishitude. "I have enough macho for the both of us."

The conversation turned to other topics. Some time later, he was nerving himself up to try unfamiliar foodstuffs, which is a real bungee-jump for an Aspie. I told him he could borrow some of my macho if that would help.

"I'll give it back to you later," he said in a campy sort of flirty way. I, of course, cracked up. Rah, in the back seat, didn't hear, and demanded what was so funny while Seebs and I laughed our asses off.

And yet, written down, it isn't all that funny. I guess the reason it amuses me so much is because we're such caricatures of ourselves sometimes. I like us. ^_______^

Seebs: Are you made of bubblegum?
Me: No, I'm not.
Seebs: Color and texture, yes. Flavor not so much. Two out of three -- statistically, you're probably made of bubblegum.
Me: I'm not made of bubblegum. Please stop chewing on me.
Seebs: *nom nom nom*
Me: Okay, you discovered my secret, I'm made of bubblegum.
Seebs: I knew it.

Blarg! I dreamed I sat down to see if I could do at least the roughs for the next bit of Metanoia, and ended up with six beautiful pages all pencilled and ready to ink. Six! I was very impressed with myself. Then I woke up.

Somehow I managed to sleep 13 hours. My neck hurts. I think I'm fighting off a virus or something. Seebs was feeling feverish yesterday, so he decided the answer was an epic quest for fuzzy slippers. I told him I'd like a pair too, but I didn't feel like going out. So what did he do? He checked like three or four stores to find the ideal fuzzy slippers in both our sizes. We now have matching fleece-lined leather slippers. I'm not sure why they had to match, but they're very comfy. I suspect the reason for the matching is so that whenever we're both wearing them he can declare "Footie twinsies!" or something of that sort. It's the sort of thing he does. :D

Seebs: *poking a straw at my mouth* Here.
Me: *dodging* What are you --?
Seebs: The wrapper came off in the box, so it's probably not sanitary.
Me: Why are you always putting unsanitary things in my mouth?
Seebs: I figured out what you're good at.

Me: "Why do phobes always walk around like they got candy in their pants?"
Seebs: "Huh?"
Me: "Homophobes always think everyone wants to touch their weenies. Why is that?"
Seebs: "Well, some of 'em are pretty."

I just found the most hilarious thing: Seebs making faces at a friend's baby. I've never seen that pic before. It kinda made my day. :D

For some reason I feel as if it's required to post about my Valentine's Day, even though it was nothing out of the ordinary. We get a little blasé about it, after so many years together. Almost skipped it, but as I said to Seebs, "If we don't even go out for coffee, we're going to have this nagging feeling there was something we were supposed to do."

So we hit the Outback for steaks and giggles. I was so tired I couldn't string two thoughts together, so our conversation was a bit disjointed, and I don't really remember what we talked about. I remember he gave me an insight on the structure of the relationship subplots in Metanoia, and said something insanely funny about bank alts on WoW. And we got a loaf of bread with a hole in it, so we just stuffed the butter in the hole and let it melt. We were pleased with ourselves all out of proportion to the achievement. ^_^

All told, Valentine's Day wasn't particularly special this year. But that's just because hanging with Seebs is always special. He makes me laugh, he's full of unexpected truth, and he's pretty like a really pretty thing. He puts up with towering mountains of crap from me, and ends up helping me a better person. Did you know his real name's Peter? He really is a rock. So I kinda feel like every day's Valentine's for me.

<3 -> Seebs.

I'm so depressed today that if I were 21 I'd be writing a cryptic cry-for-help entry that might or might not be a suicide threat. But since I'm a grownup, I'm just going to have some vanilla tea and play WoW.

Life is so much easier to take since I realized that depression is not the same as sadness. In fact, while I'm frustrated about my lack of energy, mojo, and clue, I'm pretty damn happy about a number of awesome things.

I showed Rahn how to process store orders -- and by 'showed' I mean did it once in front of her and she just grokked it -- and now she's dealing with it. The single biggest stress nexus in my universe just... went away. Thank you! *sobs of joy* I will, of course, help if asked, but it's far easier to help than organize. Even though it's fun to play at being power-mad, I really don't like being manager guy. Also I'm not very good at it. ;p

I made spaghetti sauce. It's a little traumatizing to have three people link hands and dance around you in a ring cheering, but it's awfully nice that the roomies like my cooking. Seebs was particularly smiley, and the timing worked out just right, because he was going to pick up burgers on the way home but decided instead to stop in and see what folks thought, and discovered the spaghetti plan already in progress. So that worked out.

Last night, he and I went out to IHOP for a long story-plotting session. It's hard to persuade him to focus on it very often, but when he does get into it, he cuts through bullshit and confusion like a chainsaw through chutney, and my plot ends up clean and pure and punchy. I ended up setting aside the undead pirate Arvane for a later story; sorry, San. Seebs pointed out, quite correctly, that Arvane is a very poor challenge for Kas. Kas, being a cunning but simpleminded predator, could kill him too easily, but if asked to do anything /but/ kill him would be entirely stumped. So I'm saving Arvane for Niles.

Oh man, I can't wait to bring in Niles. Just thinking of how to describe the look on Kas's face when he finds out he has a little brother can occupy me happily for long stretches of time.

Anyway, I'm not saying what I decided to do instead, but it's good. It's solid, it's smooth, it's fully in character for everyone involved, and it goes back to the story's roots, which I was wandering away from. That is to say, the Kastor stories are supposed to be classic fantasy. Sword and sorcery. Adventuring party heading to Teh Ebil's castle for a bloody showdown. Done fresh, if I can manage it, but I want to keep it a little bit old-school no matter what twists I drop in. And fantasy arose out of fairytales and myths, and those have a certain balance, a certain rhythm, which I want to harmonize with. The ideas we hashed out last night do just that.

So thanks, Seebs, for helping me plot, for liking my spaghetti so much, and for wearing tight jeans. Depressed I may be, so much so that I'm not sure I can get out of this chair again now that I sat down, but I'm definitely not sad.

I got this great concept for the Batgirl design meme. I thought about a chick who'd been training from childhood to be Batgirl. Not one of these cutesy Batgirls with the figure of a stripper or a high school cheerleader, no. Rock-hard and defined, with thighs like tree trunks and small, high boobs that are more pec than fat. Call me insane, but that's sexy as hell to me. There were going to be goggles. There was going to be a bat tattoo, and hair slicked back and combed into those ear points, a la Wolverine.

But my sketch sucked so bad I threw it away. I needed Luka and Rahn to give me permission to toss it. I've trained myself never to throw art away; it's a bad habit to get into, and I don't want to find myself thinking, "Aw crap, I know how to fix that page, and I put nine hours into it, but now it's crumpled and has coffee grounds on it." This, though...

It looked like Star's body with a tiny melted Barbie head, insect eyes, and play-doh tits. I was never that great at drawing women, but this was a masterpiece of yech.

So yeah. I have Teh Suck today. I solemnly hope my mojo deigns to put in an appearance tomorrow, because I have an update to finish. It's damned discouraging to draw something so very bad you can't save it. Makes you afraid to pick up a pencil after that. At least, it's like that for me. If I didn't have a deadline to meet, I wouldn't even try. Thank God for deadlines, I guess. Bleah.

Edit: ( taking quizzes instead of doing anything productive. Shut up. It works for me. )

Me: *glomp grope fondle yaoi*
Seebs: Stop being gay at me, I'm like, doing stuff.

Note to self -- do not attack the Seebs in the kitchen. Wait until he's done eating, then ambush him in his room. Also, twelve years of attempted ear-gnawing has not made him decide he likes it after all; this will probably not change. Also, shower, then attack while wet; you will not lose your superpowers by washing off the day's pheromone accumulation, and soap smell is apparently teh sexx.


In other news, we worked up our characters for the game he wants to run on our trip. Yep, paladin. But it's okay; it's a Norse setting, and this guy was a village bully, womanizer, and general ruffian until Odin whapped him upside the head. All the other paladins follow Tyr, but you know, when old One-Eye calls your name, you don't say 'later'. He has the remnants of a beer gut, and still has some trouble with the whole concept of not boning every female he sees. He scratches his ass in front of priests. He would do your mom and brag about it to your dad -- the difference post-epiphany is that he'd then realize that was wrong and be confused by feeling bad about it. As paladins go, this one's going to be quite playable. I even gave him the minimum wisdom for his class, and will have to spend all my stat gains building it up if I want to keep getting my specials. No self-respecting powergamer would ever do that, but I'm all about the roleplay.

Seebs: Mm, got spouse.
Me: Spouse is full of coffee, so don't squeeze my tummy.
Seebs: *squeeze* This isn't your tummy.
Me: Uhm... you are correct. That is not my tummy.
Seebs: ^___^

Me: That would be ludicrous.
Seebs: And?
Me: Silly.
Seebs: So? We're a species that keeps carnivores as pets.
Me: And some of them are you.
Seebs: *grabbing his cat and thrusting it at me; cat purrs like a bulldozer as its feet dangle and swing* Look at what a fierce predator this is!
Me: That's not a fierce predator. That's the lovechild of Orson Welles and a koala.
Seebs: Yes, but when was the last time you saw any animal beat Orson Welles in a fair fight?

A while back I saw some folks doing a meme where you make a doll of yourself, then marysue it all to hell. I'm bored and depressed, so I figured playing with that might cheer me up.

( I marysued me and Seebs, and it turned out to be quite amusing. )

I'm sure I could've Sued them up even more if I'd been drawing them instead of using the doll maker. For one thing, Demon Me needs a ridiculous shitpile of weapons, and Angel Seebs needs a halo and a katana. And of course they must be kept apart by ludicrously unlikely misunderstandings and angst for three quarters of the fic, and then spend the rest having missionary-style anal without lube and avowing their undying love, thus being cured of all emotional disorders.

You know, I think I might be missing out on some fun by trying to write realistic relationships... :D :D :D

Seebs is adorable when he's falling asleep. He talks in this little-boy mumblewhine, and he's very particular about what's important for sleeping. He has to have his flannel pyjama pants, and his stripey quilt, and his cat.

Sleepy Seebs: If you see my cat, bring him here. I need foot cat.
Me: Okay. If I see him.
Sleepy Seebs: I'm entitled to kitten by right of conquest. I stepped on it, it's mine.

He likes to be tucked in. I usually sleep on a futon in my studio; I thrash around, snore loudly, and wake up at every little thing, so we both get better rest alone. However, bedtime spouse cuddles are important. Therefore I often tuck him in before I go to bed myself. This happens so regularly that 'put me to bed' has been shortened to 'put!' He likes to have his hair skritched; likes it so much, in fact, that if I listened to all his pleas of 'just a little more' I'd be at it all night, and then my hands would fall off. A successful 'putting' of the Seebs is judged by how incoherent he is when I finally pick the hair off my hands and go to bed. Some nights his request for 'foot cat' is spelled entirely with the letter M.

My boy is so cute. So cute! I just had to tell y'all how ridiculously cute he is.

That is all. I go sleep now.

Me: Donuts. DONUTS!
Seebs: I bet I can pick up the vending machines.
Me: Dude, your sumo's got a bale of rice stuck up his --
Seebs: Look, the alligator's bouncing, that means I'm almost big enough.
Me: Did you just eat a cop?
Seebs: Hey, there's meat up on that thing.
Me: Waitasec. I came down here to say goodnight. I was gonna go to bed.
Seebs: Almost big enough...
Me: Goodnight...
Seebs: Got the alligator!


...Damn you, Katamari.

Seebs: O,O You have french toast!
Me: Luka made it for me. If you ask nice I bet you can have some too.
Seebs: I don't want to be a bother. I just want to sulk.
Me: You have fun with that.
Seebs: I do!

WAAAAH IT'S SEEBS!!!!!

Yes, I changed the text. :D

Another panel from 'Ichigenme wa yaruki no minpou' by Yoshinaga Fumi.

I also made an icon of the Seebs-looking guy, but of course I utterly forgot to upload it before posting this. Ptht. I really should've been asleep four hours ago. HAHAHA edited to put the icon yesses. Oh my so schmappy. When will I ever sleep.

One of my friends posted an adorable little scrolling banner love-letter to his boyfriend today. I love seeing things like that. We all complain too much; it's better to laugh and dance and sing about the good things in our worlds. Why do we only do that when love is new? I think we old folks (yes, here's me ancient and decrepit at 32) should do it too. So even though this isn't our anniversary, or any kind of memorable day, here's my open love letter to my husband. Let the years roll by, decade after decade, I'll only love him more with each one that passes.

( I love Seebs. )

( He doesn't pose for pictures very often, but here's what I've managed to hoard. )