Mr. Bitter, it's your 6 am wakeup call. Meow

Okay, so Snra Bitter & I are in bed at six yesterday, doing what we do best, which is sleep the sleep of the just.

When out in the hall there arose such a clatter I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter. No, literally. Sprang. Within 80 picoseconds of the sound, I was standing afore the marriage bed in the Iron Horse stance.

I am a master of Groggy Style kung fu. While snapping from unconsciousness to conscious, I possess the capacity to turn a full grown man into a quivering pile of pudding.

eyebeams and mr_weasel can attest to this. Truly. They tried to wake me up in Indy. Baaaad idea.

Khem Kat awoke too, attempting to find her way from the window sill to the floor while ignoring anything inbetween (curtain included). All I saw was a black shape snap into the air, four legs and a tail attempting to travel in different directions.

Snra. Bitter had sat up in bed with a look of mild concern on her face.

When we finally entered the hall to discover the source of the racket, all was relaxed as it turned out to be Ra Kitten knocking a selection of books (Playah's Guide to the Garou and Forbidden Kingdoms) off the bannister upstairs.

So we went back to bed, where we snuggled for a while until the CBC came on.

Things seem to have settled slightly at Snra. Bitter's Collegiate Academy. Il Duce has made it clear someone must go, and someone must teach grade 2. One of the junior instructors has taken it upon herself to be declared redundant, and the school nun will be doing grade 2. Huzzah for the brides of Christ!

I'm adoring the ongoing flamewar between Jews and Jews for Jesus in the Star. First rate!

10 years? Fuck

Okay. Ten years ago.

You're probably not gonna care about this, so go checkout show_your_boobs or something until I'm done.

Yeah, so. Ten year anniversaries are tough. Because, you know, that's how many years you have on your hands in fingers, unless you're a high school gym teacher or some kind of flipper baby or something.

Anyway. Ten years ago, I'd just been politely requested by Carleton's administration to not take up that space and please, come back in a couple years. I'd applied to Algonquin, and gotten in for the test (I was #3 to get in; they had two spaces open up).

So, there I was. Stranded in my Parents Basement.

Amusingly enough, it didn't suck. I did some writing (although the crushing disappointment of being denied the chance to do Golden Age of Champions still stung), but it was all crap. Good enough that hard drive imploded.

What did happen that year was I got to meet a few very good friends (and a few creeps. I'm looking at Jeff, folks, not tall n' skinny n' beardy).

I discovered the proto net that was FidoNet and the BBS universe. And New Dimensions (of the people I knew then, I know exactly three right now; RickJ is, thankfully, not the same one, although I stalked him for a while back then).

Ten years is a lot of time to go by. Met a LOT of people since then. Buried a half dozen publications (one before I could even START).

But ten years ago seems so ancient. And I'm feeling old. There's the whole 'potential squandered thingy floating in front of my eyes.

...

Fuck that shit.

Look, while we can't all be annoying teenagers like adamjury or mindrobber, I'm starting to get a bit sick of my semi-nostalgic/mostly pathetic whining for 'days gone by'.

Criminy, I was pretty much an idiot in that phase. Hell, I got kicked out of fucking CARLETON (should have studied. Should Have STUDIED). Manage to talk myself out of sweet, hot, passionate lust-making at least twice (and there was some hott there in each case, so it was no act of self-preservation), and continued to let TSB walk over me like a doormat.

Of course, I was in my inter-wrestling stage, not watching anything (it all sucked in the early 90s, didn't it?), and I hadn't discovered Tanya Huff yet (props to msdemandypants for that heads up, btw) and Werewolf was only beginning to come into its own. I did enjoy playing Magic for a while, and The Golden Age was just coming out.

Regrets, while I may have had a few, were then again, too few to mention.

I Did What I Had to Do, and SAW IT THROUGH. Without Exemption.

Now: Well respected member of community that's feared across the world. Master of Groggy Style kung fu. Loving Husband. Good Friend. Perpetually frustrated worker (hell, they've got to promote everyone else who's qualified EVENTUALY!). Wrathful freelancer (fuckin' pwca).

Now, I go to bed. It's ten years later, sure. But I got plenty of time left.

(please, God, don't let this be one of those horribly ironic posts where someone posts tomorrow of how I was decapitated in a traffic accident. I hate irony).

This has been 'dark night of the soul lite'. Please stop looking at the boobs now.

In lighter news

We're gonna celebrate Evil leaving TO with a game of Baron Munchausen. pyat will be Dr. Von Boots, and I will be Pasha Ozgur Ozakin. The part of Vasco De Gama will be played by mr_weasel.