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everyday: joy
joy, everyday
01 January 2020 @ 08:02 pm
09 July 2009 @ 05:24 pm
Just did a tiny friends list trim of duplicate journals or people who seem to have disappeared from LJ-land.
If you are still here, albeit silently, and want to be added back, just say the word. I think you're all super, so don't be shy. I simply like to know who's reading, that's all.
(And this can be my deviously underhanded way of getting you to say hi.)
If you are still here, albeit silently, and want to be added back, just say the word. I think you're all super, so don't be shy. I simply like to know who's reading, that's all.
(And this can be my deviously underhanded way of getting you to say hi.)
10 February 2009 @ 09:58 am
Poll #1346577 The Pleased-to-Sorta-Meet-You Poll
Open to: All, detailed results viewable to: All
Open to: All, detailed results viewable to: All
It doesn't matter who you are, where you're from, or whether I even know you, but if your eyes are passing over this, CLICK.
46 (100.0%)18 November 2008 @ 10:53 am
[because I am feeling unwell, and silly, and a dork: a story with friends' livejournal usernames hidden here and there. There are twelve; find them!]
Every day, Joy set out to prove that she wasn't so in name only, but that she truly dreamed of being a source of joy to those around her. She would awaken each morning wearing a smile born of stars, and throw open her bedroom window -- and her soul -- to the wind and the rain and whatever else might come, welcoming it all with the joyful melody of a happy heart. When the busyness of each day would become too much, she'd escape to the vacant basement and sit a while on her own, a wistful maid, thinking thoughts with a book in one hand and a chocolate eclair in the other. Her two great failings were that she refused to eat the olives her mother offered her each night for hors d'eouvres, and when prompted on any sort of form to provide more details, she'd write, "Ask me yourself." And that is the tale of the lass called Joy.
Every day, Joy set out to prove that she wasn't so in name only, but that she truly dreamed of being a source of joy to those around her. She would awaken each morning wearing a smile born of stars, and throw open her bedroom window -- and her soul -- to the wind and the rain and whatever else might come, welcoming it all with the joyful melody of a happy heart. When the busyness of each day would become too much, she'd escape to the vacant basement and sit a while on her own, a wistful maid, thinking thoughts with a book in one hand and a chocolate eclair in the other. Her two great failings were that she refused to eat the olives her mother offered her each night for hors d'eouvres, and when prompted on any sort of form to provide more details, she'd write, "Ask me yourself." And that is the tale of the lass called Joy.