one more miracle

So for the first time in a long time, I'm doing some flist trimming. I think it's a bad sign when I view reading my flist as an obligation, I'm reading it on filters, and when I leave it for a day, the two big filters get to skip=200... each. It's just this huge burden, so I'm lightening it a little. Some decisions were easy, some were harder, and I'm likely to be doing a bit more trimming in the near future. I do apologize if I've hurt anyone's feelings, but the sad truth is that I have a horrible memory, and in this context it's even worse. There are people who changed their names a year ago and I still have not fully made the mental connection with the old name. There are way too many people whose basic lives just elude me - where do you live? How old are you? Are you married? Have kids? Are you in school? These are things you should know about your friends, but in way too many instances I don't. And it's not your fault, it's mine. Obviously. So I think it's rather unfair to keep some of you on my flist when I'm not absorbing anything from your posts. I wish you all the very best. And as usual, feel more than free to defriend me back. There seem to be a million people who have me friended, but I can't imagine any of them are actually reading this journal... so that means they won't see this post. Whatever! Defriend at will, I promise I won't get touchy.

I watched episode 5x10 of Six Feet Under tonight. Not the famously traumatic finale, but fucking traumatic all on its own, thank you. I spent the whole hour crying. So now I'm all quiet and headachey and pensive. I love it when good TV, good storytelling, does that to me. But I think I'm going to go watch a Bones episode to heal.