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unprotected entry for those without LJ

my grandfather Harris just died yesterday. i never met him, even though he lived close by. don’t know how to feel about that. of course, there’s a lot more history/nonfiction to it, but that’s the basic gist of the sitch.

if i owe you an email or a drink or something (like maybe a proofreading/critique, hm? sorry Jackie!), please forgive me, but i’ll be retreating into my shell for a bit, until this complicated weirdness settles in, like a disease that i can at least live with, if not understand.

peace out.

don’t forget about opposing the war while i’m away.

good bye.

By jae

jae lethe (he/she/they) is a blogger, musician, artist, poet, web developer/designer, armchair philosophizer, teller of tales, and gadabout. Also, something he calls a "behavioral artist." (Not sure.) She has plans. BIG plans.

Among the things that he has done for a laugh are minor fractures, cuts, scrapes, and various scabs. Though she's quick to point out that they're no imbecile, we're fairly certain that he thinks the word means some kind of medieval pharmacist.

This is her latest home on teh internets - where jae stores their swear words, when they're not hurling them at the sun in vain.