"They call me The Glue"

At the beginning of the month I set out on my ninth journey to "The Animation Exposition". I had some ulterior motives to the trip and took notes passim with the intention of transforming them into a convention log. That write-up has ballooned into something longer than expected, and I wanted to post it sooner than I'm going to be able to, so I polished up the first half and present it now.

The second half will be finished soon.

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I started my birthday opening a present from a friend. Behold, my new hoodie:

Most of the day did not belong to me. By cosmic coincidence, the I spent the majority of it with family from across the country visiting my great grandma after her interment on Friday. She died in December at the unhinged age of 105, so the occasion was sad but not exactly tragic. I haven't visited great grandpa in a long time; I'm glad they've finally reunited.

Someone read a weak poem about angels and sunshine and I privately couldn't resist the dark thought that I want someone to read The Worms at Heaven's Gate at my own funeral in 750 years.

The Worms at Heaven's Gate
Out of the tomb, we bring Badroulbadour,
Within our bellies, we her chariot.
Here is an eye. And here are, one by one,
The lashes of that eye and its white lid.
Here is the cheek on which that lid declined,
And, finger after finger, here, the hand,
The genius of that cheek. Here are the lips,
The bundle of the body and the feet.
. . . . . . . . . . .
Out of the tomb we bring Badroulbadour.
- Wallace Stevens

Everything I like should be in the public domain.

Had a quiet four hour celebration after getting home. My (seems to be turning into a ritual) birthday milkshake put me over the limit and I'm going to have a sugar hangover tomorrow. Predictable behavior!

2026.07.12