So I finally got around with tweaking a lot of the stuff Dreamhost gives us that we never look at — good times, and hey, gmail-based email. I thought that was awesome since I’ve never been a big fan of squirrel mail, so I switched.

Having a separate branch for docs/calendar/sites/email is kind of awesome. Even though I’ll probably never use them more than once or twice (well, beyond email), it pleases me, so hey. Honestly, I’m kind of having a lot of fun getting back into the swing of things; I need to start thinking about redoing some other layouts across the collective, most notably karaoke-soul.net — and maybe Spindizzy (though I blame most of that on just finishing troublechecking my part for TFL.org tonight.)

Also added iBegin’s Lifestream plugin, which is that obnoxious thing in the sidebar there that integrates plurk/twitter/flickr/pretty much any social network site you can think of into yet another place no one cares about. Except me, because it’s a good way to Feel Important About Oneself. (Or, alas, a half-assed way to prove that yes, I do exist online more than once or twice a year. orz)

And that’s that, honestly.

Except for the fact that for some reason, I’ve been really craving some old-fashioned Dir en grey. Which has been assaulting my playlist for the last few hours. It’s kinda glorious, really — I feel about eight years younger AND INEXPLICABLY ANGRYYY, hee.

Finally,  finally, after two years of dicking around, I’ve finally set aside everything else and finished the long-overdue theme update for electricangels.net. And here it is!

Lots of firsts for me, but I won’t get into them here. I’m mostly pleased with it, and that’s what matters.

Recently returned from a trip back home to Montana as well (pictures available at flickr). It was good to see the family again, and doubly pleasing to finally have actual conversations with my step-father, something neither of us seem to have been any good at previously. A benefit of growing up, right?

I’m twenty-six in four days. Birthdays haven’t really felt like birthdays in a long time — or, at least, not as we remembered them to be when we were children. Still, there’s a tiny voice in my head complaining that I’m getting older, and what is there to show for it?

I can’t say I’m unhappy. Maybe, maybe, that’s what really matters.