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  <title>domesticat.net</title>
  <subtitle>Much ado about the usual nothing.</subtitle>
  <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://domesticat.net/2005/10/planetary-action"/>
  <link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://domesticat.net/node/1257/atom/feed"/>
  <id>http://domesticat.net/node/1257/atom/feed</id>
  <updated>2007-12-26T16:23:25+00:00</updated>
  <entry>
    <title>planetary action</title>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://domesticat.net/2005/10/planetary-action" />
    <id>http://domesticat.net/2005/10/planetary-action</id>
    <published>2005-10-24T03:16:55+00:00</published>
    <updated>2007-12-26T16:23:25+00:00</updated>
    <author>
      <name>domesticat</name>
    </author>
    <category term="birthdaybash" />
    <category term="friendship" />
    <category term="party" />
    <summary type="html"><![CDATA[<p>I could think that maybe I dreamed one of you, but not all of you; the carnage of my kitchen proves that you were here, really here, and that this house bore witness to a party the likes of which I haven't seen in many years.  You were here, and I remember sitting in my favorite spot in the the reading room, far-cornered on the thirdhand couch with a drink in my hand, looking from one face to another and smiling to myself as I clutched my drink. "You said you wanted a birthday party!" was exclaimed to me over and over, as Yet Another Geek came here with proffered alcohol and food.</p>
    ]]></summary>
    <content type="html"><![CDATA[<p>I could think that maybe I dreamed one of you, but not all of you; the carnage of my kitchen proves that you were here, really here, and that this house bore witness to a party the likes of which I haven't seen in many years.  You were here, and I remember sitting in my favorite spot in the the reading room, far-cornered on the thirdhand couch with a drink in my hand, looking from one face to another and smiling to myself as I clutched my drink. "You said you wanted a birthday party!" was exclaimed to me over and over, as Yet Another Geek came here with proffered alcohol and food.</p>
<p>You sat on my couches and snored away in virtually every room.  I tiptoed over and around you each morning, amused to see you all here, gathered together in one place for the express purpose of throwing a good little bash.</p>
<p>The day before you all arrived, I stood watch over my stand mixer as I made four batches of cookie dough.  I watched the paddle attachment circle and spin through the dough and wondered what you would all make of this house, of my quiet little life, of each other.</p>
<p>In the end, past the cleaning and the tidying and the labeled cabinets and the FAQ in the bathroom, I wanted something very simple: to surround myself with my geek family.  Between drinks and food and private little conversations I studied your faces, each and every one, so that on days quieter than these I could savor these moments on my own time.</p>
<p>My house is quiet without you, but my heart is so full it aches.</p>
<p>Thank you.</p>
    ]]></content>
  </entry>
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