The Girl in Black

Well, maybe it's time to give up the ghost

2006-05-26T00:50:00.000-05:00

I haven't been posting all that much, as I'm finding less and less that I want to blog about with the rest of the known world. I have my LJ account, and that is enough. If you are a friend of mine that has my email address, you are invited to hop over to LJ and read all about my daily adventures. Just email me and I'll give you the name.

I don't think I'll be deleting anything just yet, there's a significant chunk of my life in here, but I'll be redirecting www.thegirlinblack.com to something else. Archives, if you care, are still at http://thefabulousmissrose.blogspot.com.

Happy thoughts: People whom I don't know have actually read and commented on my posts! The nice ones are awesome, and the fact that someone took the time out of their busy life to post a negative comment is kinda cool too.

PS - I quit my job and moved all the way from Orlando, Florida to Colorado. I've been here about a month, and it's quite awesome. I am happy. :-) I hope you're happy wherever you are too.

Thank you, Sarah

2006-03-17T12:49:00.000-05:00

Sarah commented on my last post, and I found her charity called LifeSIGNS, a UK based awareness group that gives information about what I have always called Self Mutilation, but is also called Self Harm. I've added LifeSIGNS to my blogroll, and I will be looking for other online resources to add (hopefully on this side of the Atlantic).

Also, there's a LifeSIGNS blog that you can read for information and updates.

If you want to understand why anyone does it, here's a good answer:
http://www.selfharm.org/what/invalidation.html

Thanks to anyone who has read my previous post and given it honest thought.

What the hell kind of idiotic survey question is this!?

2006-03-15T12:30:00.000-05:00

So I'm looking at a friend's MySpace profile, and she put up one of those convenient surveys to tell everyone a bit about herself. Everything's pretty silly and benign, except the last question. The last question, casual as "Have you ever kissed someone?" is "Do you cut yourself?"

Pardon my French, but WHAT THE MOTHERFUCKING FUCK!?!?!?!?!?!?!?

This is a subject that has become more and more irritable to me, and today it is the last straw.

CUTTING YOURSELF IS NOT "COOL" AND IS NOT A QUESTION TO BE CONSIDERED CASUAL INFORMATION ABOUT YOURSELF.

Why is this pissing me off so much? Because I've done it. I still think of doing it sometimes. At twenty-six. I didn't grow out of it. It's still a gut reaction to many forms of stress, and I'm having to retrain my thinking.

I don't know what's worse, the fact that now that it's being talked about by adults it's considered so disturbing that any coverage about it in the media barely scrapes the surface of the subject, or that apparently it's now considered some sort of teenage fad.

Shall we add other questions to these surveys now? "Are you an alcoholic?" "Do you have an eating disorder?" "Have you attempted suicide?" "Do you shoot up smack?"

It makes me laugh, this public wringing of the hands. "Oh, what's to be done?" The fact that our children are doing this is disturbing enough, eh? Do you know what it's like? Do you want to know?

The disturbing thing isn't that it's done. The disturbing thing is how it feels when you're doing it. It's not the physical act. The pain, the blood, all of it is part of the fact that when you're doing it, it feels good. Good in a way I can hardly describe. It's not a high. It's not a positive, happy feeling. It comes from a dark place that only those who have been there really understand.

It's about wanting control over something when you think that you can't have control over anything else in your life. It's about expressing emotions that you don't feel you can express any other way. It's a want for attention. It's a want for self destruction. It's something you do when you don't know what else to do. And instead of acting out on others (like a school shooting) it's acting out on yourself.

And hey, maybe I should be glad that people are finally talking about it, huh? Maybe I'm upset because no one was concerned about it when I needed people to be concerned. Not that my mother wasn't. It sickens me how she won't say that I was cutting myself. She would always say I was "cutting on myself." She couldn't ever bring herself to say exactly what it was.

Heh, it's even got a new term now. It's not "self mutilation." You're a "cutter." How fucking quaint.

This isn't a tattoo, or a piercing, or even something connected to the spiritual. This comes from a bad place, and while it needs to be seriously talked about, it should be seen for what it is. Not some "inhuman act." Not something all the other kids are doing. It's a silent pleading for the bad things to go away.

You're concerned? Get over your fear. Get over your "that's so cool" mentality. This is not a rebellious act to be proud of, and this is not something unspeakable to gloss over in hopes that it'll stop.

You don't know the disgusting shame that you're left with after the fact either. For me it wasn't just the sense of having to hide it rather than explain myself and fear becoming a pariah. The worry of having to explain it to boyfriends and lovers and be forever shunned. It was the self-criticism that it was all an immature cry for attention. Attention I didn't deserve. I knew it while I was doing it. The good feeling never lasted.

The deepest and most permanent of my scars I have are on my left arm in full view. Scars that I've had since I was nineteen, when I woke up the next day and realized that I couldn't hide them under long sleeves forever. I think about how proud I was of my perfect, pale skin, and how it'll never be so perfect again. I'll have these scars my whole life, no matter how much better I get. They're always there. A constant reminder of darker days. A slight panic of having to explain it to people who notice. The concern with noticing the signs of others doing it, and knowing that they don't feel safe talking to me about it. How do you bring that up in conversation? "By the by, I used to cut myself. Is that what you did/have been doing too?"

Few people ever seem to notice, though. It's easier to look the other way when you don't understand something. People often see what they want to see. And somedays even I forget that they're there.

But they are. I'll show them to you. Just ask me. How cool is that?

Oh. My. God.

2006-03-14T20:25:00.000-05:00

I. Am so. Embarassed.

But first, backstory: I have left my job and am moving to Colorado Springs. In the interum between job disruption and vacating Orlando, I am sorting through all of the stuff I've carried around with me for aeons. This is the third night of my work.

And yes, now I'm embarassed.

I finally sorted through a box innocently labeled "papers" so as to hopefully throw off anyone who might want to go through its contents. Obviously, this box contained "art" and writing (a.k.a. teenage poetry) that dated all the way back to middle school.

Oh, there is no way in hell anyone is going to look at this stuff. I'm the only person in my apartment and I'm blushing! Gods.

I actually threw some of the poetry most offensive to me away, as well as a few drawings that were remnants of my habit of copying other people's art. (I kept some of it. Fond memories and all.)

I could've thrown everything away I suppose, except for the little voice telling me to hang onto it all "for posterity."

Okay. Stop.

How could anyone look at this stuff and think me a credible person ever afterwards? I was no "budding genius." Just another misunderstood and angsty kid who tried to vent through sappy poetry and bad drawings (and I knew it at the time too). Although, I suppose it could possibly be of interest to the psychological community as examples of ways that angst-ridden teens act out?

*laughs* Okay, so yeah, I'm embarassed. But I'm keeping all the important and special stuff. And only I will know exactly what is actually important and special.

And no, you can't see.

A Brief History Of All Things Miss Rose - Chapter One

2006-03-11T15:16:00.000-05:00

Well, not so brief. A conversation with a friend of mine has caused me to actually break down and analyze the path that has led me to my current way of processing reality, and my choice in spiritual thinking. What follows is the first installment, which outlines some of my background. There will be more to follow...

I'd like to make mention of my earliest days, because it is a part of my background after all. It's so far removed from me now, but I suppose at one point you could have called me a Christian. I don't consider myself "raised Christian" so much as immersed in an environment where it was constantly around me. I don't remember where I first heard of God and Jesus, it was always something I knew of. I wasn't exposed to anything else for a long time. My parents never took me to church unless I wanted to go. I had no denomination, and didn't even understand the differences between churches until I was a teenager. The only "evil" I learned from Christianity was a sense of being self-effacingly humble. How could I know better than God? How could I do better than him? How could I be so audacious to tout myself as a good person when I should be asking God constantly how I can be better? These thoughts fit in well with my personality, and exacerbated an already flailing sense of self-esteem and self-confidence.

Ironically, it was this same lack of self-esteem that caused me to stop attending the church that I had been. Due to a bad experience with some of the kids my own age at the church's summer camp (who actually weren't a part of the regular youth group), I became paranoid and thought that everyone in the youth group hated me. So why bother going? Since sin wasn't so much a part of my world, there was little sin in not attending church. But I still considered myself "Christian." There was still God and Jesus. What else could there be? I didn't ever really think anyone was wrong for having different beliefs, and I didn't think much on it at all. It's entirely illogical to think that someone born into a different culture who would have no possible way of knowing what the "right" religion is should be punished.

Another amusing aside is that the idea of reincarnation made sense to me ever since I heard of it in childhood. Eternity just didn't make sense. There's no balance to living a mortal life for eighty-odd years and then living in heaven or hell forever after.

So for the record I suppose I can state that I have always been open to some sort of spiritual thinking, and have always had an open mind to different concepts. I just didn't know the history or culture of anything but the small swatch that I had been exposed to until high school. Education opened my world even further. And beacuse of this, I know well the tragedy of people trapped in a narrow-minded culture. When you aren't exposed to anything but what those around you "know," it can be difficult to break out of the frame of reference you have developed.

This is why I believe in good education for all, and am absolutely horrified by fundamentalists who insist that their way of thinking be taught in schools. Schools should teach us how to think, not necessarily what to think. The exposure to as many different ideas as possible is paramount. In all facets of life, not just religion. Science, math, history, english, music, art, etc. When we are taught how to form our own opinions, rather than rely on dogmatic thought, we have so much more of an ability to get along in the world. And I suspect there would be a significant decrease in the amount of fundamentalist thought running rampant these days.

The Fallout From Introspection

2006-02-25T17:19:00.000-05:00

It has been suggested to me by a certain person (who is very silly and refuses to be a part of the online community) that I shouldn't be nearly so introspective because it leads to a lifetime of being nothing but an angst-ridden individual. I find this to be true at times, and very prudent advice. However, I know better than to apply this philosophy to my behavior at all times.

The only problem is that there are side effects. Namely a wish to share my newfound revelations with just about anyone who will listen, and an anxiety that honestly no one really wants to hear it.

Fuck you, voices in my head. I want to share. But I will try to keep this brief. It seems that most people become uncomfortable when someone wants to share what's on the inside, because they don't know what to say and quite possibly don't want to hold up the dark mirror to their own selves.

All of the words I have just written are a defense.

In fact, most of how I am with other people is a defense. Not everything. There is honest laughter, excitement, and joy that is shared between myself and my friends. There are honest moments late at night where we tell each other what we really think and what is really going on. There is teasing that is honestly good-natured. But therein lies a conundrum.

How much of joking around with others, talking about other people's problems, and bitching about life in general is just a defense against what's there that we don't want to see? Myself, I am constantly talking. Explaining, defending, stating negative or absolute opinions. "You can't tell me anything that I don't already know, so fuck off." This is how I have learned to get by.

The truth of the matter is that I am a sensitive, caring soul. I never understood why others around me were so mean. Or why they could never take the time to ask why I was crying when I was younger. I've been telling concerned and curious friends that I have been going through "childhood issues," but I honestly abhor that term. It's quite cliche, and doesn't really express the catharsis that I have recently had.

The truth of the matter is that I have been a passive aggressive person for most of my life. The truth is that I was taught how to be this way. In one aspect, there is the argument that I chose to continue this behavior. But in thinking about it more, this is not something I can blame myself for in the past. Now that I have held up the dark mirror to my own soul and seen myself for what I am, and seen why I have been the way that I have, now in this moment if I choose to continue with this behavior I only have myself to blame.

My formative years were frought with misunderstanding, lonliness, and a lack of emotional support from those whom I depended upon for it. Frankly, it was a really shitty way to grow up. And that's not okay. It never was, and it never will be. What is "okay" about it is that I can recognize now that it was not intentional, and that I'm not that person anymore, and I am safe to be myself.

I've lived with this pain for so long that it became an underlying part of my every waking moment. Even when I thought I was "fine" I found people to reinforce the negative experiences that I had. Even if the people I found really weren't reinforcing my negative experiences, my mind made sure that I thought they were. I built up a lot of walls. So much so that I thought these walls were myself.

Despite my intelligence, I never learned how to think. I submerged myself in the personalities and thoughts of others. I never knew what to do until someone told me what to do. In the back of my head I had my own opinions and thoughts, but because of a constant reinforcement that these thoughts and opinions didn't matter. I held my tongue to the people that I needed to say things to, and instead said things to "safe" people who had no stake in my situation.

I knew I was doing this the whole time, but I didn't know how to stop until now. So now I'm stopping.

I'm laying all of this out for two reasons. The first and most important one is that I am saying this for myself, taking responsibility for all that has transgressed by my own hand regardless of blame. Not that many people would notice, but I am writing with a different voice than usual. I am being as honest as possible, and the words are coming from a different place within me.

The second reason is that I have a hope that my insights and my experiences will help others in the same situation. Not that I can help them completely, or force others to "wake up" when they would rather not. But I want to tell others that it's okay to admit these things, and that it's possible to deal with them. I want to hear from others who have been through what I am going through, so that I can learn and feel accepted myself. I can't stand to go along in life with things left unsaid, especially when I feel that they should be.

And if no one else is going to say anything, you can bet your ass that I will.

YESSSSS!

2006-02-17T07:13:00.000-05:00

News so awesome, I had to get out of bed early:

Dada comes to America

Just in time for the road trip I have planned up to D.C.! I am sooo excited!

*does happy dance*

We should all write intelligent quotes in glitter text

2006-02-05T13:51:00.000-05:00

-Manic Street Preachers

I made this with the Glitter Word Generator. You should go there and make your own intelligent glitter quotes. I quoted Neitzsche earlier on MySpace. I wonder if they'll get annoyed with all of these long quotes...

carcasherdotcom seocontest - watch Google work!

2006-02-02T10:20:00.000-05:00

So what the hell does "carcasherdotcom seocontest" mean?

To you? Nothing. Unless you're into SEO. (That's Search Engine Optimization btw.)

To me? Mild interest and amusement. Except for this:

The Lactivist is involved, and "lactivism" is cool.

The Lactivist is a hot mamma on a mission! She's a donator to and an advocate for milk banking, a process wherein nursing mothers donate their breast milk to organizations that give it to babies that need it. It sounds strange, true, but this is apparently real. Sometimes there really are babies out there who aren't getting breast milk from their moms, and I'm not all that down with the idea of "baby formula" myself. If I were ever to be a mom, I wouldn't want to use formula unless I absolutely had to.

But this is where the cool factor comes in. She has some of the funniest shirts about breastfeeding! This is why I give the woman props. Anyone who has a sense of humor as irreverent as my own earns my admiration and respect.

So I want to help out her cause. This is where carcasherdotcom seocontest comes in. See, there's this silly little SEO pissing contest out there to find out who's Kung-Fu is better. There are prizes involved, including cash offerings and an iPod, and The Lactivist (whose "day job" is SEO) has vowed to enter the contest and donate the winnings to milk banks. And as we all know, the best way to mess with the search engines is to link to web pages using certain phrases.

So here's the deal. If you wanna help her win, link to this page: http://thelactivist.blogspot.com/2006/02/carcasherdotcom-seocontest.html.

Use one of these eight phrases:

"carcasherdotcom seocontest"

"carcasherdotcom seocontest for milk banks"

"carcasherdotcom seocontest for milk bank awareness"

"carcasherdotcom seocontest milk bank fundraiser"

"how carcasherdotcom seocontest helps babies"

"carcasherdotcom seocontest for premature babies"

"carcasherdotcom seocontest funding mother's milk"

"carcasherdotcom seocontest helps breast milk banking"

Leave the link on your site for the whole year. Post about it, add it to your blogroll if you have one, put a link somewhere on your personal site, whatever. (If you follow the "carcasherdotcom" link that I have in this post, or the link above my blogroll, you'll find more details about the contest.) If you know anybody else who wants to help out, get them to put a link on their website too. And then occasionally you can type the phrase into Google (or Yahoo or MSN) to see how she and everyone else in the contest is doing.

Or if you're really bored you can hit some SEO forums and read people talking about a) the contest b) SEO stuff. I happen to think it's really neat (aside from the fact that it's a good thing to know for my job).

PS - ***removed because I think this is cool and other people don't so whatever.***

PPS - Hey Carpetblogger, I keep meaning to put the Jooglebomb link on my site. Wouldya remind me if it doesn't happen today? Danke. :-)

Warning: Silly, girly rant to blow off some steam

2006-01-27T20:40:00.000-05:00

So everybody who knows me knows that I ♥ Lush. A lot. So much that I was willing to drive to the Orlando International Airport (that's MCO for those who aren't in the know) to shop in the only Lush store in Orlando (as shipping from Canada is a bitch). It wasn't so much trouble really. It's about 10-15 minutes away from work, so I'm already out there every weekday. Plus there's the added benefit of inside knowledge about "Terminal Top Parking" which makes it a lot easier to get into the terminal than than regular parking garage parking. Sure airport parking costs a buck or two when you're in there over 30 minutes. *shrugs* Big deal. I'm already spending money, what's a buck or two more?

But then, Lush got smart.

They opened another store (finally!) in one of the malls in Orlando. Unfortunately, the mall they chose (or got stuck with, I'm not sure) is the Florida Mall. Have you ever been in the Florida Mall? It's dark, claustrophobic, sprawling, hermetically designed to keep you lost and wandering, and is full of tourists and people who apparently have nothing better to do with their lives than dress in what passes for urban fashion these days and be seen at this mall.

This mall has a hotel in it. A hotel.

What, is that your "Orlando Vacation?" Rather than be encouraged to spend money on trinkets and souvenirs at the theme parks, you'd prefer to be barraged by the crass consumerism marketing techniques of all kinds of retailers from high-falootin' department stores down to the cheesiest of kiosks? Well, I don't suppose I'd blame you. Theme parks overcharge you on the pretense of giving you "happiness" rather than a tangible product. At least in shopping malls you know that all they really want is your money, and they're not going to pretend otherwise.

But then again, if you're staying in the Florida Mall hotel, you're probably spending money at the theme parks anyway, and are expecting a lot of shopping to be done over your vacation no matter what. A hotel in a mall. It just doesn't make sense...

But I digress.

Anyway, after the "claim my new glasses on Black Friday" fiasco last year (the parking lot is perfectly laid out to ensure the same driving experience one gets when departing a concert or sports event in a motor vehicle - I have been to other malls on Black Friday and I have seen much better) I had sworn off of this mall for the most part. I deigned to only visit Nordstroms, as I don't care about the other department stores and can go in and out without having to set foot on the rest of the premises. (Although I did come to the important realization that Nordstroms doesn't sell a damn thing I want to buy.)

A guy friend of mine knew of this chink in my anti-Florida-Mall armor when he told me about the Lush store that had recently opened there. "It's by Nordstroms," he said. "And it's in the nice part of the mall. It's not that hard to get to." I was wary at first, but on the day I needed to go I was tired and wanted to get home faster. By prevailing logic, the Florida Mall is actually fairly directly on my way home, as opposed to 10-15 minutes out of my way. So I said "what the hell" and decided to give it a shot.

He lied.

He lied deliberately and maliciously to get me to wander around the mall. And I'll even go so far as to suspect that he knew I'd be walking by the Ann Taylor Loft right when they had a huge "sale" sign in the window. He made me buy those clothes that I absolutely adore. I know he did.

But all in all it wasn't the worst experience in the world. Once I figured out which department store Lush is actually close to I thought that perhaps getting in and out would be much easier. Until today when I went back. I had my game plan. I was focused on my mission. No Ann Taylor Loft would distract me today. In, to Lush, and out. It would be a piece of cake. And in a sense, you could say that. But from the department store I entered all the way through the corridors with the claustrophibically close ceilings and the pathways crammed to the gills with tacky, gaudy, ritzy stores and kiosks which caused the drooling hordes to stop and slow down wherever I wanted to get to until I finally reached my destination, my only thought was "God I hate shopping malls." But then I thought of other places that I do like to go to on occasion and I realized: I don't hate malls. I hate this mall. It represents everything that I feel is wrong with capitalism today, and has facilitated some of the most abysmal shopping experiences I have ever had (sometimes just by the effect on my psyche alone) and drains my spirit of the will to live.

By contrast, the Lush store in the mall is laid out a little nicer than the Lush store in the airport. It's a little brighter and less cluttered. It doesn't matter so much to me though, the aesthetics of both stores work just fine, and the products are so cool that I don't really care. And you know what? After the soul-dirtying experience of having to wade through a sea of psychic sewage of information overload and too many people, and having to fend off inescapeable, overly large and brightly lit attacks to my eyes of "BUY NOW," I think I'd rather take the extra 10-15 minutes, pay the 1-2 bucks in parking, and have a much quieter and more pleasant experience in the airport.

A quiet and pleasant shopping experience in an airport? I think that says a lot.

Feeling sad and powerless

2006-01-25T13:06:00.000-05:00

Alito confirmaiton seems all but assured.

There was talk of a filibuster. They said that they could. But They're not going to.

He wants an up or down vote, because He knows He will win. He doesn't care.

Does anyone?

The people who are supposed to represent Me are failing Me. If They had teeth and balls They would put up a fight. They would at least try. They aren't.

We created systems to keep any one person from becoming an emporer. We were supposed to be fair and balanced. No one is to be above the law.

But He doesn't care. He wants to play Jesus and Cowboys. And so He will.

I am but one, and small in large matters. I set My charge upon Them to protect Me, My rights, My freedom. That is My power, the power to ask of Them to do good for Me. And with a smile and a lie He and His people moved in, telling Us They care from one side of Their mouths, and damning Us with the other.

What does "Pro-Life" mean save that a child must be born whether a mother can give it a good life or not?

What are checks and balances of power in government if not a farce to keep Us quiet?

What is "fair" and what is "balanced" save empty rhetoric on a one sided ruse of objectivity?

And who will stand up for Me now? If You will not go to battle for Me, than who will You go to battle for? If You will not stand by the principles You say You have, what principles will You stand by?

I am but one, and My voice feels so silent.

Do You feel as powerless as I?

Yay! I learned stuff about Canada today!

2006-01-23T21:03:00.000-05:00

Okay, yeah, so I got caught up in someone else's election hijinx, but this is really funny.

Note: All links in this post will open in a new window unless you're using Firefox and select the "open in a new browser" option when you right click.

I heard this on All Things Considered today. Go here, scroll down a little, and on the left look for the link that says "liberal attack ad about Harper and military presence." Watch it. Doesn't it make your skin crawl? Attack ads suck.

Okay, now go here, and watch Rick Mercer's parody of the Liberal attack ad about Harper and military presence (courtesy of cbc.ca, who is nice enough to put up clips from the Rick Mercer Report).

Now that is funny. At least, to me it is. It made me laugh more than anything else today, and that's what counts.

And to be fair, Mercer did a parody for the Conservative Party too. At least, that's all that I found in my little bit of Googling. Well, that and The Subliminal Party, who have a very well written note about how voter apathy and television has shaped politics (and then you can watch some more parody ads. They're all over the net). Yeah, they're talking about Canada, but in relation to America I couldn't have said it better myself. Guys, you go with your bad selves!

What I learned today:

Canada's House of Commons is cool. There are 308 seats that can get split up between four parties:

The Liberal Party - They've been in charge for the past 13 years, and are more slightly-to-the-left of moderate than what I think we would classify as "liberal" in the States. (And no, the Democratic party doesn't really count as "liberal" like the right-wing propoganda machine wants you to think.)

The Conservative Party - The guys jockeying for power right now. An American living in Canada told me that they're more moderate than the "conservatives" that we have down here. Apparently in a recent poll about 90% of them would have voted for Kerry?

The New Democratic Party - Socialists. Dirty, pinko socialists.*

Bloc Québécois - Quebec. You know, the province in Canada that speaks French and wants to be its own country? Yeah, apparently this is the party of Quebec, by Quebec, and for Quebec. People running for the entire country's Parliament campaign and get votes only in Quebec, a party that exists only in Quebec, and yet it gets 75 seats out of the 308 in Parliament. Sure, they're left-wing like the NDP. They're labor-friendly and all that stuff. But their main focus? Sovereignty for Quebec. So, um, why do they want to participate in the government of a country they don't want to be a part of?

The neat thing about all of this is that since your party needs 155 seats to make up a majority, which can be tricky, you wind up with "Minority Governments." Rick Mercer explained it best today when he said "Okay, so imagine if George W. Bush is president and can do whatever he wants...so long as Ralph Nader agrees."

Some people argue that in a multi-party political system (where more than two parties have actual power in the government) nothing would ever get done because the government would be constantly overthrown by votes of no confidence and the like.

Um, what did I just say about the Liberal party being in power for 13 years?

I would have to say that in Canada, things have gotten done. Am I wrong? I mean, you know, there's a country up there that seems to be doing pretty well for itself. They make policies, they meet with other foreign officials in a "hey, our countries should be buddies" sense instead of an "oh god, please help us" sense. They've got plenty of laws and policies. And they've only been on the continent as long as we have. I wish we had more than two dominant political parties too.

I know I'm glossing over a lot here, so if anyone has a dissenting opinion or wants to point out anything I've missed by all means have at it. I'm just a person who uses Google and Wikipedia to do backup research on the fly while writing posts. In the immortal words of Radiohead, "I might be wrong."

* PS- I mean no disrespect to socialists of any stripe. I believe I have some socialist leanings myself, and would definitely place myself left of the middle.

I...I'm writing comic strips again?

2006-01-18T12:56:00.000-05:00

Don't get your hopes up, but I got a jolt of inspiration last night, and realized that my life really is funny enough to make comic strips out of. This was fueled by looking at my old strips and going "You know what? I was pretty good after all." (Curious? They're over here.) And a random writer/stranger making the effort to contact me didn't help 'neither. (Which reminds me, I need to write him back...)

And now, instead of having an amusing boyfriend, I have a whole group of amusing friends to write about. I may even branch out to four panels instead of three... Woah. I'm gettin' kinda crazy here. Maybe I should settle down. *grins* I still wish other people thought that they were as funny as I do. That whole "Cathy" comment from a few years back still bugs me. And it's very frustrating to get "they're so cute" comments more than anything. Grr.

I also got myself a sketchbook like I used to have years ago. It feels good. I've even done some drawings in it! I didn't realize how much I missed it, and I have the Batgirl Meme to thank for all of it.

Thank you, Batgirl Meme, for giving me the inspiration to draw again.

Is there anybody out there to tell me what went wrong?

2006-01-17T13:00:00.000-05:00

So I've been listening to the news on NPR a lot lately. I even finally became a public radio supporter during the last drive. I saved public radio! Yes!

I've always preferred the NPR news shows to any other format. I found it refreshing to not be constantly bombarded by television's talking heads and advertisements. I rarely find reading the paper to be interesting. And I've always felt that most of the media has some sort of agenda. But more often than not I've found that NPR is just good background noise. It's better "company" than television, and occasionally I can pay attention and learn something about what's going on.

The "background noise" concept has bugged me on and off, though. It's important stuff they're telling me (usually), and I just let it float through my head half the time. Why didn't I get as drawn in as I had with television?

This morning it hit me. Public Radio isn't telling me what to think. There aren't any adjectives describing how "horrible" or "wonderful" something is. Judgement and opinion are reserved for editorials and interviews. The anchors let the stories and the guests do the talking. They do run little music clips in between stories that sometimes reflect the mood of the piece, but unless it's a particularly and obviously sad story the clips tend to be more amusing to me than anything else. Their listeners respond with their opinions on the news coverage, and these opinions get voiced on the air! NPR wants me to decide what I think about what's going on!

Only, I've been so used to the usual flash and trash of the television news media that I don't know what to think about anything anymore.

Did I ever? Does anyone anymore? How many people really make up their own minds? Most of us succumb to suggestion. Just look at how many people honestly believe that Fox News is "fair and balanced" simply because they tell us so. Look at how any television news anchor throws in opinions and descriptions for the sake of having a personality on the air. It has the same effect as canned laughter in bad sitcoms.

I don't think we don't know anything anymore unless someone tells us what to know, and this is a travesty of human accomplishment. It's the blind leading the blind for the sake of a little more entertainment and excitement to compete with all of the rest of the razzle dazzle media out there. It's become a mental prison of our own making, and I'm making a break for it.

And just to make it clear, "liberals" aren't the only ones getting their news from NPR either. Two of my respected family members are Republicans, and they listen avidly to not just the news, but a lot of the other shows as well. They donate money too, more than I have. I don't think it's just the "liberals" listening, I think it's really the "smart people" listening. The people tired of all the rest of the crap out there, the ones tired of being beaten over the head. So you know what? I'm going to sit back with my french press coffee (because we don't all drink lattes you know), and I'm going to listen to my public radio, and I'm going to start thinking for myself again.

The Batgirl heard 'round the world!

2006-01-15T01:13:00.000-05:00

I dunno if you heard, but everybody's been drawing Batgirl! :-D

I already did it and stuff, but I'm gonna share it here too, 'cause I'm proud of it and this has been a fun thing to be a part of. So there! *grins*

It's Batgirl! Yay!

Unsolveable Philosophical Quandires

2006-01-12T19:41:00.000-05:00

I was talking with a friend of mine last night about gaming. He was telling me of a myriad of political systems (or somesuch) that could be involved in their setting, and how their characters would relate to them all. Ultimately, it got so complicated that they said "Screw it, we'll make our own damn political system."

To which I replied "Sometimes the most complicated things are ultimately simple."

He paused for a minute, and then said "That's a very Buddhist thought."

Amused by this, I then painted a visual picture for him that I have had in my mind's eye for many, many years (as I am wont to do with people on occasion).

"Take a dot," I said. "Put a few more next to it, and then add more. It doesn't matter, maybe horizontally, maybe vertically, maybe diagonally." My eyes lit up, my expressions went manic and wild. "But keep adding dot after dot after dot and suddenly you don't have dots anymore, but you have a line. And then you take that line..."

I finished it there, but it's how I see things a lot of the time. Infinite complexities leading to infinite simplicities leading to infinite complexities again and so on. And when I apply it to human existance, things get very complicated indeed.

The talk of "feminism" yesterday and my apparently Buddhist thought patterns have conicided in my thoughts again, and I am reminded of the difficulties of reforming society. We as "women" want to be seen as "just people," you see. And if I expand that thought further, to encompass all other cultures and demographics, when it comes down to it we're all "just people." We have a lot in common, and we all want to be treated with respect (however we tend to define it).

To me respect means nothing short of being seen as an equal, and being given no special or restrictive social treatment on the mere basis of gender, skin color, immediate cultural/class background, etc. Now, granted, respect must be maintained. If an individual wants to take out a loan on a house, for instance, and they have an absolutely horrid credit record of their own making, they should be treated as someone who could be termed a "deadbeat bum." And conversely, if an individual has been a loyal and stellar customer with a meticulously spotless credit rating, they should be given the best terms on a loan possible.

But everyone should be given a fair chance at the start.

However, the problem with everyone being "just people" is that we have the potential to lose certain important parts of our identities. Diversity is the spice of life, and such a wonderful thing to have. And certain "just people" have grouped together over time to form little divisions of identity separate from the whole of all the other "just people" people. I have mentioned before, I think, how poignantly this hit home when I began to learn more about Jewish culture from my ex boyfriend. I was completely flabbergasted at how there was an entirely different culture and way of life living conicidally with my own, and that the general way I was raised (with a somewhat Christian backing) was very much not the way that this other culture existing comfortably in our society raised their children. I felt terrible that I had never truly understood what it is to be Jewish until then. At times it's a very special thing.

And how could I expect anyone to give up the culture that they have been born with, that has shaped them in some way whether they went with it or against? Or the societal subculture that they identify with? More than that, there are certain inherent differences in gender that I fully believe are naturally occuring (only unfortunately exploited and exacerbated by societal conditioning). There are things that make me different from men both physically and psychologically that I want to be recognized, not ignored.

If we take away the larger structures that we identify with, then who exactly are we?

But back to the infinite complexities again, each culture is made up of lots and lots of "dots." And each overlaps with gender, causing so many other complex patterns of dots. And sometimes these larger cultures and genders want to define other entire categories of people as inferior. Women are placed on pedestals. "Minority" cultures in every country have to deal with debilitating prejudices against them. Misunderstood subcultures are sneered at by the mainstream, and vice-versa. Why can't we just forget about all of that and be people?

But some people don't want us all to be "just people." When women fought for the Equal Rights Amendment in the 1980's, those who were against it started making statements of "Oh, women won't get any separate treatment at all! You'll have to share bathrooms with men and everything!" And like most of us raised in American society, we recoiled at the thought. Surely, because of the differences of our genders we should have "separate but equal" bathrooms!

But now I look at it, and I find that I think that because of how this culture brought me up. "Men and women are different. We should not have to deal with each other's basic bodily drainings/excretings, because that involves 'private parts,' and 'private parts' are bad." Why did we have to think this in the first place? What's so wrong about men and women pissing and shitting in the same public restroom? And yet, because it's been twenty six years that I've held this conditioning, I am loathe to change it midstream. (This also brings into question many, many notions and definitions of "privacy," which I won't get into here.)

If I am not a "woman," what am I?

If I am not a "single woman living in a one bedroom apartment with two cats," what am I?

If I am not an "artist," what am I?

If I am not a "Marketing and Media Coordinator," what am I?

If I am not an "American," what am I?

If I am not "mainly from Florida," what am I?

If I am not "forced to live in Orlando," what am I?

If I am not a "regular patron at a certain local coffee shop," what am I?

But if I am not a "person given the same equal treatment and basic opportunities that every other human being on the planet deserves," what am I then?

Where does it stop? Where does it begin? What point on the moebius strip did I come in on? At what point to I get off? And does it just keep going on and on like that? All that exists has always existed. All that is born has always been there and has always ceased to be. And yet we have taught ourselves to see time as linear, that our actions have purpose and are means to an end. The segments we see are framed with "start" and "finish." But in reality we're all just the same amalgum of energy, forever moving and still, doing what it does constantly, no linear purpose in sight, simply there.

And with a philosophical view of existance like that, it's really hard to get anything done at work.

"Feminism" yet again...

2006-01-11T18:16:00.000-05:00

I put that word in quotes because all at the same time I find it both limiting and empowering. But anyway...

Thanks to Scott McCloud's LJ feed I read about a recent sexual harassment issue in the comics industry. He chose to link to a thoughtful summation of the discussions that followed, rather than any news itself, and I find that somewhat interesting.

Heidi MacDonald links to many takes on women in comics, and women's portrayal in comics, and the outrage and disillusionment therein. She makes comments on it, but then she takes it to a much larger scale and makes the valid point that it's not just an industry specific problem, but an underlying societal problem.

Still, I wonder how productive it is to disperse a group's focused outrage and spread it out over the whole of modern culture?

The problem is indeed overwhelming, and it's gone underground.

"I've been reading a lot lately about the 'failures' of feminism. A New York Times article on women who got a top-notch education just so they could to be homemakers raised many questions, including this long round-up that suggests that in some ways, women are going backwards. Maureen Dowd actually has a point, I fear."

The "long round-up" is a link to a column by Linda Hirshman about how many well-educated women are making a choice to be a mother rather than a professional. It touches on a lot of things that I look at and shudder in my own life, and ultimately feel bad for. All the girls I know who are around my age who are married and/or have children. Something about them, what they chose...it bothers me. Something about any woman my age who has a child bothers me. "I'm too young to have children!" I think to myself. And yet, my "childbearing years" are getting into full swing.

But MacDonald's linking is a blessing and a curse to me. On the one hand, Hirshman's column is important. It has outlined in sharper detail some of the things that have been bothering me about being a woman lately. But it also distracts me from thinking about the apparent lack of respect for women in comics.

But even that apparent lack is something I've not witnessed firsthand. The closest I have come is reading a book by Dave Sim that rants and rails against women and portrays them as evil things who eat the brains of men. It disgusted me, filled me with rage, made me question the motives of my male friends who enjoyed Sim's work after having read the book in question. But I never met the man in person.

I could use the example of my college professors' advice when I mentioned that I wanted to put together an anthology of female sequential work. They suggested that asserting myself and others as "women in comics" made us just that, "women in comics" not cartoonists devoid of any special treatment due to gender. In a way it made sense. I didn't want to be a "woman cartoonist" I wanted to be a "cartoonist that is a woman." And despite my current lack of productivity, that's still how I see it. I don't want to be a "woman doing something" I want to be a "person doing something."

But thinking on it, their argument diluted mine. I gave up on asserting myself through my gender, and that is a very fine line to walk. If I assert my "minority" status too much I risk being a zealot. But if I don't stand up for what's right, I risk losing all respect from my peers.
The internal argument became too much for me, and I got down off of that specific soapbox.

And now I must ask again, by taking a specific problem and widening it to encompass more than the initial focus, will these injustices get the attention they deserve? Or is this a holistic problem that must be attacked from all angles?

The war for my individuality is still being waged from without and within...

So this is the new year...

2005-12-31T15:05:00.000-05:00

And I don't feel any different
The clanking of crystal
Explosions off in the distance

In the distance...

So this is the new year
And I have no resolution
For self assigned penance
For problems with easy solutions

So everybody put your best suit or dress on
Let's make believe that we are wealthy for just this once
Lighting firecrackers off on the front lawn
As thirty dialogues bleed into one

I wish the world was flat like the old days
And I could travel just by folding a map
No more airplanes or speedtrains or freeways
There'd be no distance that could hold us back

There'd be no distance that could hold us back...

So this is the new year...

"The New Year" - Death Cab For Cutie

It's been one hell of a wild ride. Here's to hoping the next one's a good one for us all.

Cheers. :-)

exasperated sigh

2005-12-26T01:21:00.000-05:00

Okay, so I finally found out why the sudden fuss over the semantics of saying Merry Christmas vs. Happy Holidays.

Jesus Christ on a crutch people! WTF???

By raising a stink and insisting that one must say Happy Holidays? I know, I know. The "Jesus is the reason for the season" stuff bugs me too, but come on! Can't we show a little more tolerance than insisting on empty, blanket statements?

It makes me happy to say "Merry Christmas" to people who celebrate it, just like it makes me happy to say "Happy Chanukah" to people who celebrate it, just like it would make me happy to say "Happy Kwanzaa" to people who celebrate it (if I knew any), just like it makes me happy when people wish me a "Happy Winter Solstice."

Atheists? I dunno what to say to them, so I guess maybe "Happy Holidays?" Or I could go the ThinkGeek route and say Have a satisfactory Non-Denominational Capitalist Wintertime Gift Giving Season.

If they even celebrate, that is.

But this goes with my earlier sentiment. It's dark, it's fucking cold, why not throw a party? Does it have to matter who "owns" it? It's not entirely about Jesus, or a tiny bit of oil lasting far longer than expected, or the Seven Principles, or the rebirth of the sun. It's about people getting together and enjoying each other's company. Family, friends, the community. Sheesh.

So, in honor of this, I'm reviving my old line:

That's it, I'm moving to France.

And how was your morning?

2005-12-23T12:21:00.000-05:00

I've only been up for two hours and have already been having adventures...

Well, I suppose the adventures began last night. I invited myself to see King Kong with a friend (I'll maybe review it later, but holy hell that movie is over three hours long! Doesn't anyone know what editing is for anymore?). I got home quite tired and went online before bed to check the status of the ThinkGeek package that should have arrived at my apartment yesterday. (It's an Xmas present for my dad from both myself and my brother. If it didn't show up on time, we'd both be screwed.) I looked up the tracking number only to find that for some reason ThinkGeek let me update my billing address, not my shipping address, and the package was delivered to my old apartment from two years ago! Christ on a crutch! WTF??

I sent a frantic email to customer service (Um, if I can't get this package from wherever the hell it went, would you send me another one? Pretty please?) and went to bed knowing I would probably have to knock on some stranger's door the next day. But the thing most worrying me was that DSL claimed that someone "signed" for it, so all kinds of worst-case-scenarios were running through my head. "They sent it to the post office, and is the post office even open today... They just took it for themselves and won't give it to me... They sent it to the complex office and is the office even open today... They just sent it back to where it came from and there's no hope of getting it in time..."

Since I have today off, though, I decided not to wake myself up early. However, my cats decided to try, licking my nose, pawing at me with just a hint of claw. I fended them off until about 9:30, when I dragged myself out of bed, groggy, sinuses clogged, and into the kitchen to make coffee. I was greeted to the sight of black ants throwing themselves a little ant party all over my sink, counter, wall, and wherever else they were hiding. Why, out of all times, did they choose last night to launch their offensive? I had just cleaned all of my dishes, mopped my floor, and didn't have any chocolate slivers or jam stains lying about. Why??? Why now??? But I had to do something, my home was being invaded.

And thus began what I have termed "The Great Ant Massacre of 2005."

Did you know that 409 Orange Clean kills ants instantly when you spray it on them? Plus it's already a kitchen surface cleaner, so it's not like you're spraying Raid everywhere. As the orange-ish chemical rain fell upon them, I could hear tiny shrieks in my head. "Oh god noooo! It burns! Mommy!" I spent the better part of an hour battling these little beasts; spraying, wiping, putting away the clean dishes so as not to get 409 on them, cleaning up the other half of the sink which never gets clean because the dish drainer lives in it, hunting and squishing lone survivors with my fingers and washing them off... I had finally gotten around to getting water boiling for coffee when it hit me. "I need to go find my package. Now."

I threw on some clothes, tied back my hair, and ran out the door, sleep/sinus fuzziness still plaguing me, the inklings of a caffeine headache creeping into my head. Fortunately this apartment is five minutes away from my current one, which was enough time to hear the entirety of "Until the End of the World" by U2 and not entirely enough time to smoke a cigarette. I pulled into the parking lot and seemed to get some funny looks from a guy on a golf cart, but I ignored it. As I got out, I saw a piece of paper in the window with passages highlighted in pink. "Oh god," I thought "something's wrong..." I walked closer, my breathing getting tense, not knowing what to expect...

The paper was a little "For sale by owner" notice. (The apartments went condo last year. I found out when I tried to move back into them after I left the two bedroom my ex and I shared.) It was uninhabited! And there, in the little garden by the door, secluded from the parking lot view by the little wall out front, was my package! It had stayed there all of yesterday, and overnight, and was waiting for me to claim it, unharmed! My brother and I were saved!

I grabbed it and hurried back home, wondering if anyone had a) noticed me running off with it or b) noticed it was even there in the first place. But it didn't matter, I had my father's Xmas gift safely in my minivan, and I was speeding home to finally have my precious coffee.

Now I just have to finish waking up and get ready for the rest of the day...

On the longest night of the year...

2005-12-22T16:50:00.000-05:00

the sun is reborn!

Only I had to go to bed early last night, because I wasn't feeling well after eating two holiday meals in one day (company lunch, dinner with friends).

Anyway, happy Solstice everybody! :-D

And merry Xmas, merry Christmas, happy Kwanza, happy Chanukah, happy non-denominational commercial winter holiday, and happy Christmahanukwanzakah too!

Little lights in the darkness

2005-12-12T13:32:00.000-05:00

Over the years, my taste in holiday lighting decorations has changed.

When I was a child, I loved all different kinds of lights. The simple, elegant "gingerbread" houses. The gaudy, tacky "as many lights as possible" houses. The trees and candy canes on lamp posts. The oversized toyland decorations in the shopping malls. Christmas was wondrous and magical to me. I wanted it to last every day.

This childlike wonder lasted through high school, but throughout my college years I became disenchanted. Christmas Day with my family was suddenly something more to be endured than cherished. I was all at the same time depressed, and establishing myself as a person separate from my family, and realizing that I didn't really care for my grandparents all that much. Holiday decorating lost its charm. Christmas became empty and commercial. I wasn't even a Christian anymore, and the "festive" displays seemed more like a desperate ploy to distract people from the hopelessness of their everyday lives.

Goodwill shouldn't just be seasonal, should it? And why spend so much time and money on decorating trees and houses and wrapping presents if it's all just taken down or wripped apart and thrown away later anyway? What's the point?

At the same time, though, I learned of other, older holidays. The ones the idea of Christmas is based on. There's a common thread of a celebration in the wintertime, and of a birth (or rebirth) of a "god-type person." The ones I know of are Mithras, and the sun itself. I'm sure there are more.

"Christmas" with my family has gotten better. We meet my grandparents for dinner the night before, and I've come to appreciate the time I spend with my parents and brother. And I've always loved gift giving. And wrapping presents is something fun and creative to do. We always play little "guessing games" with some of the tags we put on our presents. It's cute.

But a lot of the "magic" is still absent for me. All-day Christmas music-a-thons on the radio just aren't my taste. And "Jesus is the reason for the season?" *sigh* Actually, Jesus wasn't born in December, it was a ploy by the catholic church to stop the "pagan" festivities that the people in England insisted on having. Before they made it official, the church really wasn't into an all out bash to celebrate the birth of the messiah.

So I went out to run some errands last night, and I drove by city hall (or what I'm fairly certain is city hall. It's the building that the infamous "giant asparagus" is in front of). All of the trees in the plaza were lit with cheerful, white lights. In the lobby of the building, which you can see through huge plate glass windows, was a giant tree just as tastefully lit and decorated. The entire scene looked so warm and inviting. And it hit me.

People need to celebrate in the winter. The days just keep getting darker, colder. Whether it's religious, spiritual, natural...whatever explanation you want, that's what's happening. And on one specific day, the darkest day, it all reverses. The sun is "born" again, and we all know everything's going to be alright.

But in those dark, lonely nights, when the world is dying for a time, we need light. We need people, good cheer, and hope. Some people get that through the Jesus connection. Some people get it through some other spiritual means. Some people choose to ignore it altogether. (And interestingly enough, Chanukah is apparently the least important Jewish holiday, and is mainly celebrated so that the Jewish kids don't feel left out when their goyish counterparts are a partying.)

But I think that there's a common, subconscious thread.

Or maybe just that all those Western Europeans got it right. It's dark, it's fucking cold, why not? And although I still don't go for the tacky displays as much, or the crass manipulation of the emotional reasons behind giving of gifts and family togetherness, I feel a little bit warmer inside. For me, there's a light in the darkness. There's always hope that the sun will come back. Everything's going to be alright.

So I say unto you: light your lights, your luminary bags, your gaudy blinkers, your candles! Let's celebrate.

Okay okay!

2005-12-10T22:14:00.000-05:00

So I did more than just "toss in a few graphics." I were having fun!

Anyway, it has come to my attention that some of the nifty nifties about the Blogger CSS template don't seem to work as well in Internet Explorer.

See, I don't use Internet Explorer. After converting to Firefox (which, by the by, is a much cooler name for a browser, isn't it?) I haven't looked back. If you don't have it, you should try it. Seriously! It's free, there are less pop-ups, and you get tabbed browsing!

Just what is tabbed browsing you ask?

Suppose you are browsing the 'net and you want to look at another web page, but you want to keep the page you're on open. Normally, if you were using IE, you would have to open up another window. Open up enough windows, and after a while your computer slows down and all kinds of icky, bothersome things.

But thanks to Firefox's tabbed browsing system, you have the option of opening a new window or a new tab, which stays in the window you already have open.

It totally changes the way you get around the internet!

Think about it! You can keep multiple tabs open in the same window, so, like, if you're paying bills or something, and want to keep an eye on your bank statement at the same time, you open a tab for your bank website, and tabs for the sites of whatever bills you're going to pay.

Or:

You want to comparison shop between Barnes & Noble and Amazon. Simple! Open tabs for each one. Hell, open tabs for each product you want to look at and click between them that way!

Last scenario:

You're doing a Google search (everyone here does use Google mostly, right?) for a topic, and you don't want to lose the results page. Open new tabs for each result you want to check out and you're gold!

Tabbed browsing is the best thing ever!

And Firefox has a bunch of other apparently cool features that I haven't really messed around with.

Drawbacks:

Not everything works correctly in Firefox. I myself have trouble viewing Quicktime movies, and I hear tell that some sites designed to look good on IE end up being unreadable on Firefox (but I don't go to these sites, so I haven't encountered any problems).

But still!!! This is such a cooler browser!

And you'd see my blog's site all pretty pretty like I mean it to be if you use Firefox. I have to figure out how to get Explorer to allow cookies so I can log into Blogger from Explorer and try to figure out what's wrong with the code. And frankly, I really don't feel like going through all that trouble.

It's much easier if you'll just download Firefox. ;-)

Fun with graphics

2005-12-10T20:19:00.000-05:00

So I'm messing around with graphics on the site, trying to make my template a little more "personal." Mostly I'm just having fun digging up little things I've got lying around on my computer and turning them into things that fit in here. Eventually I'll probably do something more streamlined. But anyway...

What d'you guys think?

A manifesto for living my life

2005-12-06T13:50:00.000-05:00

Explanation: This hasn't come out of the blue. This is something I've been kicking around in my head for a while, and recent personal events have inspired me to put it into writing. This is just a personal statement on behalf of myself, and I say why not share it with the masses?

I choose positivity.

I choose to no longer believe anyone's perceptions of myself or what they think I should be if these perceptions hold me down. I choose to let go of my own preconceived notions of who I think I should be in accordance to what society deems "appropriate."

I choose to make decisions for myself. To no longer weep over a life lived "alone." I choose to stand up for myself and be heard, no matter who the person is who is not listening. And I choose to disregard those who refuse to listen to me, or see me as I truly am.

I choose respect.

I choose to align myself with my highest potential. To walk the sometimes difficult path to discovering what that potential is, regardless of how "strange" others may deem it. I choose to set my own terms for how I see the world, and give myself the ability to still look and listen to reality, and adjust my thinking when necessary.

I choose to learn.

I choose to believe in a greater good for all. To help those who ask, whenever they are ready. I choose to no longer give energy to those who refuse to change for the better, no matter their reason. When they are ready, I will be there for them.

I choose to walk the lighter path.

I choose a love for myself that is honest. I choose to have friends who are supportive. I will always choose the better path for myself, and I am willing to let go of those who will follow me no longer. I will do what must be done, go where I need to, and I will not wait for those who are not willing to go with me.

I choose to live.

And so now my question is, are you with me?

So I let disgust get the better of me...

2005-11-28T20:29:00.000-05:00

...aaaaaand I deleted someone's comment.

But, because I was going to let amusement get the better of me and write some kind of "holier than thou" post in response, I realized that perhaps I should let the comment stand on its own merits. Thank heaven for comment delivery to my inbox.

Here's what IHateYou had to say:

"You are a dumb bitch, no one cares about how you feel or your stupid blogs, I just got dumber from reading that load of crap about how "I want to be someone else, but still myself". Your not Ghandi, your not Buddha, astrology is load of bullshit and so are you."

Bravo! My hat goes off to you, sir or madam, for actually taking the time to read my blog, thereby making your uninspired and insipid comments that much more targeted. I trust that the intelligence you lost from reading the one post wasn't too much for you?

I am also assuming that you mean to tell me that I am not Ghandi nor Buddha, instead of the other option, being a statement that I own the negative of them. Clever. However, if you really want to shatter my psyche for some reason, I suggest you try actually ripping my writings to shreds, rather than just pissing all over them. Trounce me with your intellectual prowess! Engage me in a heated debate! Come on lad/lass! Show some spirit! If you're going to take such unbridled glee in spreading negative thoughts about the internet, at least make it some kind of art or sport or something.

Oh, but what if it's true, and reading that post really did sap your intelligence? I suppose then you wouldn't be able to ridicule me with cutting jibes and witty repartees quite so well, would you...

Damn, I'm my own enemy's undoing.

At any rate, thank you for the distraction, IHateYou. Despite my initial displeasure with your blunt commentary, I've had quite a bit of fun because of it. I am sorry I deleted your words prior to this response. I hope you shall forgive me.

And now for something completely different,

2005-11-28T13:21:00.000-05:00

A man with three buttocks.

Okay, so I've always wanted to say that. So sue me. ;-p

Anyway, it occurred to me today that part of this whole "lonliness" schtick of mine, and other slightly angsty thoughts I have been having (they're getting annoying, but more like a mosquito bite than an open wound, thank The Goddess) are occurring because part of me wants to feel this way. Seriously.

It reminds me of one of the many astrological "reports" that tarot.com sucks me into on occasion (the tarot readings are great, but the astrology reports can be hit or miss). It was analyzing how I am in relationships, and various other related things, and pointed out something that keeps popping into my mind.

"You associate close relationships with both longing and loneliness and may be unclear about roles."

There were a couple of other statements that seem to hit the nail on the head, but that really doesn't matter. What does matter is that I don't have to be the person my natal chart says I am.

What!? Miss Rose The Astrology Nut saying that astrology doesn't have to define a person?

There's a "secret truth" about astrology, actually. Most astrology is just a suggestion of how things probably are. Nothing is ever set in stone. And that goes for the personality defining stuff too. Sure, it's fun, and can be helpful in getting to know yourself and others (if you're into that kind of thing), but there are just as many good things as bad in anyone's chart.

And nobody has to be anybody forever.

So maybe there's something more I can be. But not just with that silly relationship crap. Maybe I can be better in lots of ways. I've worked through so much baggage already, maybe I can work through some more. Maybe I can be a "different" person entirely. The best "me" ever, even.

I can't shake the feeling that there's something more out there for me than what I have, and what I'm doing. Just because I don't know what it is doesn't mean it's not true or real. Maybe part of finding it is in further transforming myself into someone I want to be even more than I am.

But still me, of course. I'll never be anyone else, but I couldn't be anyone better. :-)

To everything there is a season...

2005-11-22T13:30:00.000-05:00

I suppose it's inevitable. Feeling good for a while, and then feeling not-so-good for a while.

I mean, I'm okay. But it feels like something is missing and I've been trying to put my finger on it. Maybe it's just the season. Darker days, colder weather. Winter can do that to you. But I feel kind of lonely again. The kind that seeing friends alleviates a little. While you're hanging out with them.

But the rest of the time I feel empty.

Like, I hang out with people, but for some reason they're not exactly the right people. As if there's some sort of fullfilling connection I'm missing.

Normally I would denote this feeling as a want for "love." But I don't think I really know what "love" is. I know what "being in love" is. And I've had enough experience with not-so-good relationships to know that I don't need or want someone else to "complete" me or anything. I like my life the way it is thank you very much. And while having someone to live with is nice at times, I really value living on my own.

I don't even think a "relationship" is what I want, with ideas of "commitment" and "long term potential" and such. I don't even think it's a matter of getting laid. It's all well and good at times, but the act in and of itself is not entirely the feeling that I'm looking for.

And I know I'm beautiful/sexy/whatever. I really do. I don't need someone to make me feel that way.

There's something else I feel like I want at the moment. Like the feeling of having a "best friend" or something. Someone close, someone to feel connected to. I guess I'm missing that right now. But it's not something you can come by easily. And you can "fall in love" with a new friend just as surely as a new beaux.

Upon pondering all of this I had a funny thought. I want to feel like I'm "real." And I think what my subconscious means by that is that I want to be more mature. I'm tired of feeling like a little girl inside so much. And while I was so busy with work for those two or three weeks, I felt different. Mature. Competent. "Grown-up." Like people respected me, and my thoughts and actions mattered. And when I felt that way, I didn't need anyone at all. Which was strange, and probably wouldn't last in the long run, but it was nice all the same.

I can see why people become workaholics.

News from the front...

2005-11-18T22:40:00.000-05:00

So I took today off of work to help with my mother's garage sale out at the lake house.

I had a lot of different things running through my head that I wanted to write about, and now that I am writing I've drawn a complete blank. I suppose the main thing is just the slight anxiety I've noticed I've had ever since I got here last night. I feel slightly trapped, as there's really not a lot to do out here, and I had to be outside with my mother and her neighbor, Trish, all day today. I drank coffee like a fiend (a whole pot of it to myself, strong) and ended up gorging myself on chinese food for dinner.

These are some of the signs of what I have come to term as "Uncomfortable Rose."

I never realized so clearly how much my own space is important to me. Which can really be anywhere, and translates to "alone time." Sometimes it can even involve other people (like when I took smoke breaks at LDI last weekend), but it usually requires me leaving my current circumstance and running off to acquire either a) coffee b) at least one cigarette or c) both. But even then I don't need to run off after my vices. I just need a change of scene, a chance to breathe, or something.

I used to think there was something wrong with me because of this, sort of. I can't really describe it except that today I've looked at it in a different light. It makes sense. And it doesn't mean I love my mother any less or anything.

*shrugs* I dunno.

The fun thing from today is that Trish makes really cool cigar box purses and swarovski crystal jewelry. (And yes, I am linking to her by these specific words to help spread the SEO love.) I got one with a picture of the Eiffel Tower on one side and the Arc de Triumph on the other. I love it muchly, and it is one of a kind. :-D

And I unwound by watching The Man In the Iron Mask. It's just an all-around fun movie with action, honor, romance, etc. that really isn't a brilliant cinematic work nor was it made to be. And I am a sucker for Gerard Depardieu. I think he was really funny as Porthos. (I pretty much ignore Leo DiCaprio's performance as Louis XIV. He made a better Phillipe, his Louis seemed forced. So much for the "Sun King.")

At last! I feel like I am understood!

2005-11-17T13:30:00.000-05:00

Well, kind of.

I was checking out one of my exs' blogs (Carpetblogger), and in his commentary about the emotional value of music and how he's upset that one of his favorite bands' songs is being used in a car commercial he mentioned how he can see why I would always get so upset about it. (I still do, but I just don't watch television anymore really.)

It's a good post. Check it out. The Soundtrack of our Lives...

"One of my exs'..." God that sounds so weird to say...

So I've been thinking...

2005-11-16T13:30:00.000-05:00

I've been thinking it might be fun to write a "self-help book for people who don't like self-help books." I dunno, something more for people my age, maybe even a little younger. It's really alienating to read books written by and for people ten to twenty years older. I'm also well aware that not everyone is down with the touchy-feely talk.

What do you guys think? I want to make all us "young people" stand up and say "We're not dumb. We're not slackers. We're not powerless. And we're not going to let anyone else decide who we are and who we're gonna be. We're intelligent, capable human beings that demand respect." I want us all to feel empowered to do things like vote, and to change the system for real.

Except for the people who already think this way. They don't really need much help. ;-)

It's finally over...

2005-11-14T13:30:00.000-05:00

And my feet still hurt.

Well, not all that much anymore. But I did do a number on my heels yesterday, having opted to switch to the cheap shoes I had opted not to wear for the other two days of the show. I threw in some Dr. Scholl's, so the bottoms of my feet were comfy. Unfortunately the backs of the shoes rubbed my heels raw, and no band-aid could solve the problem. It was rather amusing to be limping around during the load-out, only to remove my shoes in the parking lot on the way to the car and be able to zip along.

We waited four hours for all of our empty boxes to be delivered to the booth so we could pack everything up. Yeesh. One of our neighboring booths was playing loud music, and I couldn't help it, I had to dance. So I went over to the booth next door, who were wise enough to have comfy floor padding installed under their little square of carpet, and I started to dance. I definitely got some attention. *blush* But it was fun, and I really didn't care.

The funny thing about it was that normally I wouldn't have the balls to do anything like that. And here's the other thing; I didn't have a single shred of anxiety throughout the whole show. It didn't even occur to me until last night. This is amazing, because most times I am forced to be in circumstances where I talk to lots and lots of people, some of them important, I get anxious as hell. It wears me out. And now? None! I do believe the meds are working. This is simply amazing!

I'll be posting pictures, and probably giving more insightful commentary later.

In other news, I've taken to listening to NPR in the mornings now before work. It's kind of nice, and I can still listen to music in my car without worrying about missing much news. And I've been hearing a lot about the riots that have been going on in Paris in the last few weeks.

This is rather disappointing to me. My usual statement upon getting overly fed up with living in America is "That's it, I'm moving to France." But now the glamorous sheen has been taken off of my beloved "Gay Paree."

Call it self-centeredness? I hadn't realized that any "Western" country other than America had a problem with racial integration. I mean, yeah, there's going to be some sort of prejudice everywhere you go. But enough of a problem to cause riots for 18 days so far?? They use the number of cars set on fire every night as a standard of how bad things are. This is really sad. I guess European countries aren't as cool as I thought they were. Although I hear Denmark is nice...

Okay, so sometimes working in the lighting industry is pretty cool.

2005-11-09T13:30:00.000-05:00

Especially when you get to do things like go to Wet 'n Wild for free, at night, with free food 'n soda (and ice cream!), and no one in the park except for you, your cool coworkers, some of your friends, and a bunch of other people that you don't have to schmooze with at all.

And then you get to ride the awesomest water slide ever over and over and over and over and...

Well, you get the idea. OMG! I had such a great time! Two other rides were open at the park, "The Surge" and "The Black Hole." I rode all three. And yes, I was wary at first (know me long enough and know my dislike of heading downwards at an alarming pace of acceleration), but I realized that part of it was that I tend to shriek like a bain-sidhe ("banshee"), which embarasses me highly.

Or at least it used to.

All the shrieking was worth it. I rode Disco H20 about 5 times all told, The Surge twice, and the Black Hole once. Which was funny, because out of all of the water slides that I refused to ride as a child (all of them, basically), the Black Hole was my arch-nemesis. Other kids' accounts of it frightened me to death, and I vowed to stay away forever. Until some of my cohorts told me tonight that it wasn't nearly as intense as the ride that I'd been spending the most time on in the first place. So I gave it a shot.

Boy howdy, it was a lazy tubing run ride compared to Disco H20. What a surprise! In fact, the only ride I repeatedly wanted to go on was that one. Wow. I think I've come a long way.

Shame returning to the park in the heat of the Florida sun and having to wait in line would just spoil things now. But perhaps I shall return. I need to spread the love. And the best part is, in a way I'm connected to this, a water slide that people will willingly wait in line for repeatedly (sometimes even up to an hour or two). Not directly, but more than most of the people invited to this event. And that's pretty neat, y'know? How many other people get to talk about stuff like this?

And driving home on I-4, I felt the need for speed. Crusing along with my windows down, "Until The End Of The World" blaring from my speakers, the wind in my hair. I felt like that daring, wild, rebellious person that I've known I could be if I wasn't so afraid of things all the time.

But, no. I will not ride Splash Mountain again. And skiing is right out. ;-)

When do you start feeling like a grown up?

2005-11-01T13:30:00.000-05:00

I review my life accomplishments from time to time, trying to find some sort of feeling of pride and self-sufficiency. Something to say "I've arrived at 'maturity'" (which isn't necessarily being a mundane "adult" type individual).

To review:

I am living entirely on my own with no financial support from family, roommates, or boyfriends.

I have purchased my own computer, and various computer accessories. (My brother's assistance with the latest acquisitions doesn't count, as I had purchased the initial computer myself beforehand.)

I have the experience of two art shows featuring all of my own works.

I lost a fuckton of weight, and have actually been keeping it off for the most part.

I have a college degree.

I have a full time "real" job with a salary and everything.

I have acknowledged that a) I have had a lifelong struggle with mood disorder and b) I have been getting help with that (again, all on my own)

I have a life

And yet, none of these things has made me feel like the mature person I think I should be feeling like. Self-sufficient, somewhat accomplished, able to make big life decisions. Until recently, that is.

For some reason, my recent little clothing shopping spree excursion has made me feel more mature and responsible than anything else on the list. It sounds a little shallow perhaps, but I've been breaking it down and it makes sense. I am making important decisions about how I will present myself to the rest of the world (at least at work). Decisions that balance out my personal style vs. a "professional" look. Investment decisions in well-made clothing that will last and help me look my best vs. cheap clothing that will stretch and wrinkle and ultimately make me feel horrid.

There's also the satisfaction of being able to tell the neurotic penny pincher in myself that I not only need these clothes (honestly, I have needed better clothing for a while now), but by spending a little more on the right things I won't be unhappy later and want to buy more things. (And I do still look for sales, although "sale" seems to hardly be such anymore.)

And now that I look like I want to, in clothes that make me look good (and that actually fit again) I feel better. I honestly do. It's amazing!

I suppose it's mainly because this is something tangible to me, something that I know and understand. It's not playing "dress-up" anymore, as opposed to the feeling I have had of "playing house" in my own apartment. That has gone away as well, but I've done the living-out-of-my-parents'-house-and-payi

ng-the-bills thing for so long that it doesn't seem to be that much of an accomplishment. (Taking pride in my apartment and cleaning it and stuff actually does give me a sense of maturity and responsibility, however.)

So here's to becoming mature, and not just playing "grown up."

A formal shout out to all of my Pagan/Wiccan peeps out there

2005-10-31T13:30:00.000-05:00

Blessed Samhain everybody!

Gosh I feel lonley. It's hard being the only witch on Halloween. (Yes, I know how silly that sounds.) Everybody else is running around to parties in costumes and hunting for candy and decorating with webs and spiders and skeletons and things and I...

I'm just not feelin' it anymore.

I used to love Halloween and all the spooky trappings. Skeletons were my big thing. And witch's hats too. Loved 'em. Loved it all. And then something changed. I don't know what happened exactly, but the magic just wasn't there anymore. Maybe it's the fact that kids don't trick or treat like they used to. Maybe it was just a natural outgrowth as I left the "cute spooky girl" phase of my goth days behind. Maybe it's just a part of how my interests shifted from fantastical fantasies to profound mysteries. I don't know.

I just wish that I had my old circle back, and that we were celebrating Samhain like we used to. I've been to some awesome Samhain rituals. Children with costumes and candy mixed in with their parents contemplating the deeper meanings of the season. Stories told around bonfires of Persephone's descent into Hades, and her return to the surface. Sharing cakes and wine with friends, blessing them saying "May you never hunger or thirst." Calling on The Crone, honoring her presence in our lives.

To me, it's not about dressing up anymore. It's about remembering and honoring the dead. Respecting the fact that death happens to us all in many ways, and many times over our lives and other lives. It's the end of the harvest season, the last one before the winter, when the earth grows cold and we withdraw into our homes and ourselves, awaiting rebirth the next spring. It's a time to give thanks to what our mother earth has given us over the spring and summer and autumn.

It's remembering those who have passed on, communing with our ancestors, lifting the veil between the worlds for one night and getting glimpses of faeries and spirits. Looking into our futures to see what the coming year has in store. Celebrating the wheel of life, the spiral path that we all tread.

And I haven't had any friends that I have shared this with since I left Savannah. Good Pagans are hard to find. And by "good" I mean ones that you mesh with, that you feel comfortable practicing with. I have a few Pagan friends, but I haven't felt the call to be in circle with them (and many prefer to be solitary anyway). I had something rare and special, and it's gone now and I feel very alone.

So I'll go home after work, light my solitary candle, and reflect on these things myself. I may be alone, but She is with me, and sometimes that can be enough.

Happy new year everyone. May you never hunger, may you never thirst, and may the next year be as good or better than the last.

Radical, political musings for the day

2005-10-26T12:30:00.000-05:00

Be sure your sins will find you out...

I've been hearing the word "indictment" thrown around a lot recently, and for the first time since last December (or perhaps this past January) I decided to poke my head out of my little hidey-hole and see what's been going on in the world of politics.

I didn't find out anything that I didn't already know.

And basically what I already know is that in politics, when you lie you get caught. When I had heard the supposition that Valerie Plame's name had been leaked to the press by the Bush administration as revenge for her husband stating that there were, in fact, no plans for Iraq to purchase uranium and that the Bush administration twisted his words to say that there were, I figured it was true. And whether or not what happened was legal, the fact that all parties involved have been trying to cover it up is what is going to be their downfall. (Read a little bit about the possible indictment of Libby and Rove, and a little bit of backstory on why it's happening if you wish.) You see, I believe that the high-muckey-mucks in the White House right now are dirty, rotten scoundrels (and not the kind played on broadway by John Lithgow and Norbert Leo Butz).

I also believe that paying attention to political intrigue on a daily basis is bad for your health.

A year ago, I was caught up in the presidential race in a unique way. I was in a long term relationship with a Kerry staffer here in Orlando. In our apartment, CNN was on television 24/7. There were many alternately stressful and passionate late nights, several parties and meet and greets, lots and lots of beer and pizza, and a general disdain for all things Republican. But I ignored most of it, because I wanted to make a difference. I wanted to believe.

I had been somewhat blissfully unaware of what was in store for America when Dubya was first sworn in after the 2000 election, but slowly I realized that something was rotten in Denmark (and for all you people who don't get the Shakespeare reference, I'm talking about America)... And since I didn't vote in the 2000 election (the resulting electoral college farce made me realize that maybe my vote did make a difference after all) I had vowed to be more alert in 2004, and actually give a damn. But after all the useless frustration, the hopeless anger, the crushing depression from defeat (trust me, you did not want to be in the "victory party" room on election night), I had to stop caring. What did it get me? Squat.

I have found that the miasma we call politics is rife with lip-service, double-talk, saving face, and media spin. Just like I've always thought. And, just as I've always thought, the media facilitates a lot of this. None of this is new knowledge. It's such a part of common thought these days that the media itself will actually comment openly about it, while they're doing it. It gives me that same sick feeling that I got when I went into Urban Outfitters and saw the trucker-style hat with the phrase "Insert Paul Frank Logo Here" printed on the front. *shudder*

And, in my opinion, the Democrats are no worse than the Republicans when it comes to playing political and media games. Only the current incarnation of the Republican party figured out the ingredients of the secret sauce that causes people to believe what they say, while the current incarnation of the Democratic party have been playing out the part of the wannabe kids that go and buy whatever outfit is on the mannequin at Express. Instead of setting themselves up to be the hip, alternative choice to the neo-Republican machine, they fish around for a platform to stand on based on what the neocons deem fashionable.

But honestly, I haven't been paying attention to them recently, so if anything's changed, please let me know.

I do know that there are always going to be people who claim that they have your best interests at heart when, in fact, they're just out to fullfill their own agenda and will tell you whatever you want to hear so you will let them do just that. We must accept this fact if we are to deal with politics on a realistic level. But I'll admit, it certainly seems like there are more "faces" than people out there right now, aren't there? And all the good people, the really good people (in both of the major parties) seem to get dragged through the mud time and time again.

Ultimately the solution isn't to "play the game." That's like giving aspirin to someone with a broken arm, merely treating a symptom and not healing the cause of the problem. Instead, I propose a radical solution that not everyone is going to understand: heal the minds of the people, and the country will heal itself.

It's the same idea behind solving the overcrowded prison problem. Figure out what makes the majority of criminals become such (social issues, educational issues, etc.), and eradicate those problems instead of just building more prisons to house the growing number of criminals.

Figure out why the voting eligible population is swayed to vote for people without their best interests at heart (or conversely are apathetic to the voting process), and fix those problems instead of trying to manipulate a system that isn't working anymore. The problem with being the loudest voice in the room is that someone else will eventually be louder, which leads to a room full of noisy conversations.

My theory is that most Americans are unhappy and feeling unfullfilled in life and trying to fill the void (as the media suggests that they do) with various opiates; entertainment, food, religion, shiny objects. Deep inside, they know they're unhappy, but they don't know why. And then a loud voice comes along and tells some of them why. Since they haven't figured it out themselves, and this voice is speaking very loudly and with much authority, they go along with the voice.

Or they don't believe any voice at all, and feel overwhelmed by all of those who do, so they give up altogether.

What has made America so unhappy? We, as a nation, are so unhappy with ourselves that we project our problems onto other nations, trying to "fix" them instead of taking care of ourselves. And we have been taught to be so wrapped up in ourselves that we refuse to see the larger effects our actions have on life as a whole.

The smallest thing can end up affecting the whole of society. For example, there are a lot of high-speed car crashes in cities and residential areas. Most people tend to drive only as fast as they deem "safe" subconsciously. But roads are built wide enough these days that 30MPH is really just an unheeded recommendation. So wider roads lead to more high-speed car crashes. But why are the roads so wide? Because of a mandate that all roads need to be built so that a large firetruck can turn around on them, and all firetrucks are now large. But why the large firetrucks? Because the firefighter's union claims that they must have a certain number of men on each truck, and this number reqires the large truck rather than a smaller one. (I got this example from Suburban Nation by the way. It's more specific than what I have given here.)

Because of short-sighted and selfish decisions caused by our various thoughts and beliefs, our mental, social, and physical environments are deteriorating, which causes fear, anger, and despair, which causes more short-sightedness and selfishness, which deteriorates our lives further...

Plots and plans to overthrow a government that were scrapped and caused an enlisted group of foreigners to be left hanging in an unfriendly climate ultimately led to the destruction of the World Trade Towers.

Be sure your sins will find you out.

And the smallest thing can affect the entire world.

I choose to first understand and improve myself, to get my life on an even keel. (I think I've been making tremendous progress.) And then I will fully be able to do good things for the world. And by these actions, perhaps those whose lives I touch will begin to improve themselves and their surroundings, and then they, too, will do good in the world. And the next people whose lives are touched will continue the cycle.

This is my current modus operandi, and this is why I don't do much in the way of political commentary in my blog, or even pay attention at the moment. Why say things that everyone else is already saying? Why speak the obvious problems when I would rather speak my mind about social issues I feel need to be addressed, or present unique solutions to my own life's issues that others might find interesting. (And yes, I enjoy posting about "mundane" matters as well. Can't be serious all the time.) But I would rather people take away the message that they can find genuine happiness and fullfillment, that they are not alone or unusual or "broken" just because of who they are. That things we consider common in life are actually problematic and/or serious.

And if I can reach out to at least one soul and inspire them somehow for the better, then I've accomplished something incredible.

That's my hope anyway. Writing for an hour or so during my lunch break doesn't lead to much in the way of focused, well-thought-out posting. (This post has actually been written over two days, and taken a little more time than it should have...) I suppose I'll have to back to college for something other than a BFA eventually...

Last night,

2005-10-23T19:59:00.000-05:00

I dreamed my whole house was clean...

And so it is! Well, almost. My brother and his girlfriend (I wish I could just identify her as my friend, because she is...) came over today and helped me clean up the massive undertaking that was my living room. Gone is the coffee table and the useless vaccuum cleaner! They gave me use of their wonderful Dyson vac again (I had used it to clean my bedroom) and helped me rearrange my living room in a better format.

Wow, it's like, I have some fucking space in here for once! :-D

In other news, I am such an SNES RPG dork! Not only am I rockin' out old school with Chrono Trigger at the moment, I remembered that part of why I liked the game was that I had fallen in love with some of the music.

Has that happened to anyone else? You play some video game or other, with an 8-bit or MIDI soundtrack, and you get at least one song stuck in your head because you think it's just so damn beautiful? And then you think, "but...but...it's a video game!!! I'm not supposed to think highly of music from a video game!" This has happened to me with a few. I was such a dork in my formative years that I actually put a tape recorder up to the television to record parts of the soundtracks of my favorite RPGs. (Lagoon - OMG the music was amazing, Final Fantasy II - obvious, Arcana - again, fucking amazing!!!) But by the time I hit Final Fantasy III and Chrono Trigger, I was no longer inspired to do such silly things.

But then there was Secret of Mana.

There is some fucking beautiful music in this game. It was easy as hell to beat (I rented it and beat it over a weekend. Granted, I stayed up fairly late to do so, and didn't do much of anything else that weekend...) but it just stuck in my mind. It's one of those games that I'd play again, just to experience it. Kinda like Illusion of Gaia now that I think about it... (That water palace...OMG, I would play that game and save it just at that spot, it was so beautiful!)

Anyway, I found the greatest and bestest website ever! Here you can download MP3s of the entire Secret of Mana soundtrack, as it is now out of print.

Personal favorites (the only ones really worth downloading IMO):

"A Wish"
"Close Your Eyelids"
"A Bell is Tolling"
"The Oracle"
"Eternal Recurrence"
"A Conclusion"
"Prophecy"
"The Curse"
"The Legend"
"Still of the Night"
"Ceremony" note: this is a must have piece of music. There is nothing else like it anywhere, and seems way ahead of its time for a video game. This is the song that caused me to look for the SoM soundtrack in the first place.

So yeah, anyone know where I can get a used SNES and these RPGs again? Cuz IMO, the RPG genre took a turn for the worse once polygon graphics and complicated renderings came into play... (Except for Legend of Dragoon. That is a stellar game with actual plot and a fun way of doing battle. Highly recommended.)

Okay, I'm going back to Chrono Trigger now. I just hit a really sad scene that they actually made a little anime clip for in the re-release. It was very beautiful and sad, it made me vechlempt... Must...continue...game...

PS - No worky for me tomorrow! Yay! Thank you Wilma!

Random, girlish thoughts

2005-10-21T12:30:00.000-05:00

Well, first off, my mother sent me one of those annoying "women need to protect themselves" emails with big bold type and all the "important" bits in red. The entire thing screams "BE AFRAID! THE WORLD IS DANGEROUS! STAY HOME!" or some such.

Emails like this bother me tremendously.

I do agree that there is cause for caution and common sense. Lock your doors at night, stay in well-lit areas, stick to public places with people in them, etc. etc. And if this email had a different tone to it, one that offered safety tips in a calm, practical manner, I probably wouldn't be so upset about it. In fact, I would read it and go "Ah. This is good information to know." But when I am being told with type that is the equivalent of wide, frightened eyes that because I am a woman the world is a more dangerous place, I can't help but send back a rant of a reply.

You see, my philosohy is very simple: If we as women act and feel like we are vulnerable because of our gender, then we will be treated as if we are vulnerable because of it, and we will be victimized. Oh yes.

This falls into a similar vein of various conversations I've had with random women and girls who tell me the same thing. Because I am a woman, I have to be doubly cautious when venturing out into the world alone.

My only thought is "Why should I consider myself any different from anyone else when my safety is an issue?"

It just gives me the feeling that these women are acting like crabs in a bucket, trying to pull me back down into realms of fear and distrust. I have never felt that the world at large is a dangerous place for me to be in, and so I have rarely encountered situations that made me feel uncomfortable to be in. There are a few exceptions, but I handled them in such a way as to protect myself.

So, to me, the bottom line is to be smart, just like everyone else, and to not let your gender stop you.

In other news, I have decided to act upon a compulsion I have had since my first relationship.

Ever since the idea of marriage has been presented to me, I have had this compulsion to wear some kind of ring on the appropriate finger. I haven't been able to understand it completely. I know it ties in to being with someone I absolutely adore, and a want of commitment and security, but these desires trouble me. They tend to lead me into a life I honestly don't want. So yesterday when I went to buy myself a new pentacle (my last one vanished, which was very appropriate actually) I spotted a ring that I knew I must have. The minute I put it on my finger, I didn't want to take it off.

And now that I have my very own "engaged to myself" ring, I feel somehow more secure. I feel like I won't have a desire for a committed partnership in the same exact way as I have in the past, for now that I am committed to myself, I can fall in love freely and without the need for something "more" from the person of my affections. This feels good. And the ring has a beautiful blue glowing moonstone set in it. A stone sacred to the Goddess herself. How fitting!

The funny thing about your "ring finger" is that it corresponds to a meridian in your engergy system that functions as a protector. It is the source of our "fight or flight" response. How odd that we have chosen this finger as the one to place a ring of commitment to another on.

Of course, now the ring finger on my right hand feels naked. I suppose I shall need another...

Meat Hangover

2005-10-20T12:30:00.000-05:00

Brazilian style steakhouses rock.

Well, at least Texas de Brazil does. From the moment you walk in, and realize that this is one classy joint, to the moment you realize you can't possibly eat any more deliciously prepared steak/lamb/pork/chicken and then they bring out the desserts, you know you've had a good time. Well, pricey, but definitely good.

For those unfamiliar with the concept, this style of restaurant charges you simply per plate. You sit at your table with a little card that has a green side and a red side. There are lots of boys running around with various meats on huge skewers. If your card is flipped to the green side, these boys come over to you and offer you whatever meat they are carrying. If your card is flipped to red, they will leave you alone, unless you make eye contact with them or something.

Did I mention that Texas de Brazil (I have been to other restaurants of this ilk before) has some of the most delicious, tender, juciy meats I have ever tasted???

My friend Tony had recommended the place to me. And as I sat in my chair with my little tiara on (hey, it was my birthday after all) being offered tasty cut of meat after tasty cut of meat, I had to text message him. My note to him read "Hands down, bacon-wrapped filet mignon!!!" His response? "Meat coma."

Priceless.

Introspection...

2005-10-19T12:30:00.000-05:00

Behind our building at work is a concrete staircase leading to the back parking lot. It is separated by a metal pipe railing that has been rusting at the base for some small time, looseing the rail to the point of being able to lift it out of the ground. Recently, maintenance re-attached it to the concrete with some sort of strange, ugly adhesive that basically looks like a temporary fix. One of my coworkers commented that perhaps it would last until the rest of the pipe rusted away.

It caused me to contemplate the quandry between using temporary solutions vs. outright replacement, and which situations call for what action. I know, it doesn't come off as deep on the surface, but for some reason I found it a profound thought. When it's time to press on, continue, keep something up vs. when it's time to let go, move on, replace. I dunno, it just seems like a good brain munching thought.

Another brain munching thought I've had today revolves around this pervasive feeling of emptiness and lonliness that has been hitting me periodically. Certain events outside myself give me a reason to be happy, and seeing my friends often makes me feel connected to the world, but too often when I am left to my own devices these days I feel restless and hollow. Until it occurred to me that when one has been going through stressful events where one's mind must be constantly working, it is difficult to switch out of said mode of thinking and rest.

Perhaps all I have needed to do is change my perception of things. Tell my brain that it doesn't need to be in hyperactivity mode, constantly looking for the next thing to do, another person to see. I don't even know how I got into this mode of thinking in the first place. Having quiet time to oneself can be one of the greatest pleasures of life.

*shrugs* One of life's mysteries I suppose...

Old Florida

2005-10-13T12:29:00.000-05:00

Despite having hated where I spent the majority of my childhood (Ormond Beach, for those who don't know), I have realized over the years something important. Florida is in my blood, and will always be so.

I have been lucky enough to have been taken away from the shoddy tourist traps that are easily accessible from the major interstates, and into the wilds of true Florida. Old Florida. Forests of oak, underbrush of palmetto, beaches unsullied by cars and condominiums. The way Florida was before people got it into their heads that this was a premiere vacatoin paradise.

Florida is not Disney World. Or Universal. Or any other reason why most people flock here. (Well, I'm speaking mainly of Central Florida. South Florida is another kettle of fish entirely, as are the Keys.)

I can't explain it properly, but there's just something about seeing the unspoiled nature of the state that I have called home for far too long. There's also something about the older towns, the ones that never grew into the monstrosities of air-conditioned stucco that so many developers are attempting to create. Finding little out-of-the-way places with a mishmosh of Victorian and 1920's architecture, with a dash of 60's modernism thrown in for spice. Places that my parents have their memories attached to. Summerhaven. Palatka. Lulu. Interlachen. The Ichetucknee River. Places that some of my own memories are attached to.

My parents have a house on a lake in Interlachen. It's one of the most peaceful places you could retreat to. To get there, you drive through either a forest or along a highway sprinkled with some of these small towns. But some of these towns are showing the telltale signs of development. There is construction all along highway 20, roads being widened, a 24-hour Wal-Mart added. When Starbucks shows up then I'll know it's all over. (Don't get me wrong, I love Starbucks, but it is a sign of "progress.")

I don't mind growth. Civilizations expand, it's inevitable. But what developers in Florida have a tendency to do is to buy up huge quantities of this unsullied land on the cheap, raze it of any distinguishing characteristics, and then pollute it with cheap, cookie-cutter housing. They then sell these "McMansions" for entirely too much money, and run off with the profits.

Only sometimes they build in flood zones which buyers aren't aware of.

And sometimes these houses aren't built to properly withstand hurricanes.

And did I mention the landscape being razed of distinguishing characteristics? They prefer to work from a "clean slate" so all of the flora and fauna is wiped away, never to be replaced. Soon there won't be any of Old Florida left. Just an endless sea of identical houses with perfectly landscaped and mulched yards, mind-numbing cul-de-sacs, labyrinth-like street layouts leading to clogged "collector roads." No one will ever think of my Florida as anything but suburbs and amusement parks.

But the memories I have of how things were will whisper to my heart, and I will remember.

The Memory Palace

2005-10-12T12:22:00.000-05:00

So a friend of mine was telling me last night about how people are able to memorize and recall vast amounts of information quickly. One such method is a "memory palace." It's a place you create in your head, however you want, that you walk through constantly, enough to cement it in your mind. And then, when you want to remember things, you place things that bring whatever you want to remember to mind in your palace, and when you want to recall them you walk through your memory palace and find them.

That is, if I'm explaining it right.

The whole idea of this is fascinating. He was telling me about how the mind actually remembers better by movement and location, rather than just raw data. It's part of our oft-forgotten animalistic nature. Another piece of the puzzle is that the more we repeat something, the stronger the memory becomes, and once we have a strong enough memory of something, we can lay a short-term memory over the stronger long-term memory, and it will be that much easier to recall, because you are using a well-traveled neural pathway (how memories are formed) instead of creating a new one.

Pretty neat, huh?

Of course, the romantic in me just loves the term "Memory Palace." It sounds beautiful. Perhaps I shall make my own...

Woohoo!

2005-10-06T18:24:00.000-05:00

I have just narrowly avoided overdraft fees! I rule!

I ended up spending a smidge more than I should have (breakups seem to do this to me), and when I went to check my finances yesterday I discovered that I had the exact amount of my rent available plus thirty five cents extra. I sweated it out through the rest of yesterday and today, but hey! The banks are done transacting for the day, and I get paid by direct deposit at midnight!

*I dance with a soldier's glee*

Tee hee. The check hasn't even been processed yet! But I shan't tempt my luck by spending what I most certainly do not have, even if it is just until midnight.

What a long, strange week it has been...

2005-10-04T12:30:00.000-05:00

So yeah, I um broke up with my boyfriend at about 3:30 last Wednesday morning. I realized I wouldn't be able to wake up for work, or even wake up in time to call in, so I ran off to Denny's with a friend until the designated call-in time. Took Wednesday off, felt frustrated and remorseful. Felt the same on Thursday, and sent an email to him on Friday. His response irked me, so I was rather miffed all of Saturday, and sent him a more tense email in reply. Got a response on Sunday that made me even more agitated, to the point of outright bitching. So then Monday morning I find an email that makes me so royally pissed I had to write a very long, angry email full of cheap shots that I had to edit before I could send off. This pissed him off, and he sent an angry response back, repeating the thing to me that had set me off in the first place. I get it Monday night, fly into a blind rage, send back a response where I type so hard that I nearly break my keyboard in half, and run off crying to my friends.

And then in talking to my friends I gained perspective, let go of the anger, went back home, and found him online. We talked some things through, and made up as best we could for the moment.

Now I'm just back to being sad, but we're friends.

Was this the fastest break-up/make-up ever, or am I just delusional?

Same problem, different language (or, why feminists are stereotyped as being so damn bitchy.)

2005-09-22T21:16:00.000-05:00

Somehow I think I've commented on this before...

So this little issue has been popping up in my life more and more lately, and it came to a head this week at work. I mentioned at our weekly Tuesday morning meeting that I was trying to calibrate the colors of my printer, because I was sick of our lovely company shade of blue coming out of the printer as this icky dark teal.

I had mentioned this previously to various co-workers, with different levels of response.

The Operations Manager (Goddess bless him) stayed pretty mum, letting me try to figure things out on my own. My boss told me that it had been done before by the previous Marketing Girl, but he didn't know how to do it, so again I got to try to figure it out for myself. One of the guys in sales suggested that I call the tech support of the company that makes the printer, but I kept insisting that I wanted to fix the problem on my own.

Then the Tech Support guy hears that I'm having a problem, and sure enough on Wednesday morning both the Operations Manager and the Tech Support guy are sitting in front of my computer, trying to fix my problem for me.

And between this, and the aforementioned sales guy trying to do various things for me to "fix" my problems (he's been helping me with my Zippo, another little saga, but he went too far when he threatened to clean out my car), suddenly I feel like I'm seen as this totally helpless person who doesn't have her shit together and needs other people (men) to take care of me because I can't take care of myself. It makes me feel like...

It makes me feel like a girl.

Now, I've been raised in one of those blessing/curse kind of ways, where I never for one second had the inkling that there was something I couldn't do because of my gender. I saw the world as gender neutral, that anyone could do anything. It was a great way of growing up (although it led me to put a lot of pressure on myself to excel, but that would have happened anyway). But the older I get, and the more "girly" I come off as, the more I am smacked in the face with this whole "girls need help and protection" bullshit.

Have you ever wondered why so many women got so pissed off when the feminist movement really got underway? Imagine living a lifetime of familial, cultural, and social reinforcement that you can't do anything on your own. And then, when you get over your issues, get some self confidence, and actually try to do something, you're met with constant criticism and condescension. You are not respected for who you are and what you want to do. You are not taken seriously. Yeah, that's reason enough to get pissed off, huh?

Okay okay. Now for the flipside of the coin. Anyone who knows me knows that I swear by "Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus" and here's why. It identifies communication problems, and gives you advice on how to fix them and understand the other gender. And one thing I have learned that is deathly important is that sometimes guys just gotta "fix" stuff.

I was talking to a friend of mine about this last night, and he referred to it as the Galahad Syndrome. And it really has a place. Whether it's by nature or nurture, guys just have to be able to do things to help girls out sometimes. It's a core part of their personality, to be able to protect, defend, be a hero. And women don't usually get this, so what ends up happening is that they get bitchy when a guy solves their problems for them without them asking for help, or they offer advice thinking that it will help facilitate whatever the guy is doing. This is a deathblow to the guy's ego, because here he is, thinking "Hey, I'm solving a problem for her. This will make her happy, and that makes me feel good." And instead she gets upset, or makes him feel like he's not doing a good job by offering advice not asked for.

This is how a lot of fights start between men and women.

I know because I've experienced it. My poor ex. One night he was doing the dishes for me, and I couldn't help it. I could see that he was doing it in a way I considered inefficient, and I started saying things like "You know, if you load everything in the dishwasher this way, you can fit more stuff in." It did not make him feel good.

But then, he did things to me like solving my computer problems by just having me step aside and fixing everything without teaching me how. This was slightly frustrating while we were together, and proved a problem when we broke up. He had our computers networked together so we could share the cable modem. When he left, he forgot to change the settings on my computer so that I could connect to the internet directly. I couldn't get online. I had to ask him how to change it back. I'm really lucky that he wasn't letting any hurt feelings get in the way of solving my problem.

So here we all go, 'round and 'round the same prickly pear, trying to help each other out and failing miserably. Yeesh. How's a girl supposed to stand up for herself when the way she wants to go about it ends up honestly offending and hurting someone else's feelings?

How the hell can I get some respect around here?

Guys, I tell you what. If you're gonna help me out for whatever reason, will you help me help myself instead of just jumping right in? In return, I'll hold my tongue on the "helpful comments" and make sure that you feel honestly appreciated. Sound fair?

Pfeh! No wonder I have such an aversion to the business world...

2005-09-19T17:53:00.000-05:00

Psychopaths could be best financial traders?

Hee hee. Put that in your pipe and smoke it.

Of course, I have also heard that some people with mild autism end up being phenomenal mathemeticians and whatnot, only their relations with others are sorely lacking. Since the autism is mild, it goes unnoticed.

Ho. Lee. Shit.

2005-09-15T23:46:00.000-05:00

Steamboy. Is. Awesome.

If you haven't seen it yet, rent and watch.

Steam powered machines destroying Victorian London in a battle of good vs. science directed by Katsuhiro Ôtomo.

You know, the guy who directed Akira.

Yes. You remember.

Now go watch.

I did a Blar homage for Drew's birthday...

2005-09-14T12:11:00.000-05:00

So I thought I'd share with the rest of the class. Unfortunately, I have to shrink it a tad to get it to fit properly into Blogger.

And I'll link to Blar again, just in case you didn't see it the first time...

I know now what I must do...

2005-09-08T12:14:00.000-05:00

Last night a friend of mine told me that there is a bar in the French Quarter of New Orleans that, since the first day it opened for business, has never closed.

This bar was apparently open during Katrina, and those who stayed in the French Quarter went and hung out there.

This bar was also apparently acting for a short time as both a hospital and a point of communication for those who needed it.

I must visit this bar before I die. This is my new life mission.

In other news: Blar!

This isn'f funny anymore

2005-09-04T02:08:00.000-05:00

Really big tragedies happen. This is a given.

I remember when the planes hit the towers, I was distanced from it. I was able to make jokes. I refused to follow along with a lot of the sentimental crap that arose because of the incident. (You know, the collages of flags and eagles and images of the tower. I thought and still think they were rather hokey.) What the hell did I care? I didn't have friends or family up there, or at the Pentagon. I only gave reflective pause when I discovered that my then soon-to-be boyfriend had friends and family in both of the affected areas, and then I felt somewhat more sad. But it never completely touched me.

This time it's different.

At first I didn't think about it except in the sense that New Orleans was thoroughly fucked. And dammit, I rather liked that city and wanted to go back. But I wasn't thinking about the size of the storm. It didn't register with me that Mississippi was affected too. Until someone mentioned it to me at one point. And then it hit me that some family friends, my godparents, who are more family to me than most of my blood relatives lived in Mississippi.

I called my mother immediately, asking how they were. She forwarded me the "we're okay" email sent out by my godmother, and I just about lost it. They live in Vicksburg, which is further inland, and so they seem to have suffered damage similar to what Florida went through last year. Downed trees, power outages, boil water alerts, etc. So I know that they'll be okay.

Only my godmother works at the local VA clinic. And she was going to work.

She mentioned how she wouldn't be going home for a while, what with gas prices being sky high, a general shortage of fuel in general, and the fact that she would be very, very busy. A lot of people from Biloxi got shipped up there. Biloxi has been pretty much wiped off the map. She's going to be helping these people.

I don't know why exactly I've been getting so emotional about all of this. I think it's a mix of relief that they're okay combined with sadness that they had to go through it combined with the fact that someone that I know is directly dealing with a lot of the fallout of the areas that were hit much harder.

And I think about all of those people without a home. Not just a home, a fucking city. No relocation, no rebuilding, no going back anymore.

I also think about the person that I did know who was from New Orleans. My second year roommate in college, Caprica. She's pretty damn awesome. I had met her first year, and she led a very amusing Samhain ritual where we all broke up laughing when she blessed the rice cake for us to pass around. And then when I filled out the little card to help the powers that be find me a new roommate, I wrote in large letters "I'm a PAGAN!" And guess who ended up living with me?

She was a painting major, and that girl had skillz. OMG. I had held on to a few of her leftover class assignments for quite a while, but they had been lost in subsequent moving escapades. She was also a quirky and amusing person to know. She and her boyfriend would take incredibly long showers, and come out in the middle of them for grape juice. She would rent what I considered to be cheesy anime, and she would have to watch everything twice. She has a really funny story about a really bad acid trip, where the line "And I turned to the Goddess, because she was sitting right next to me..." is heard. She gave me a copy of "Wicca for the Solitary Practitioner" with the address of her favorite occult store stamped on the inside cover. She lamented not being home for Mardi Gras. She got a pet bunny rabbit, and kept it in the dorm room. (Pets weren't allowed.) It chewed through one of the cords of my Nintendo controller. (She replaced it.) The bunny went to live with her mother.

And now I think about her mother, her pet rabbit, and her. New Orleans was such a part of who she was to me. And now she can't live there anymore. She can't go home anymore. So many people can't go home anymore.

And I'm so fucking broke right now that I can't afford to donate any money to the Red Cross or anyone else to help. My godmother is doing something to help. I wish I could help too. But I'm sure everyone at work would love it if I just packed up and headed to the bayou.

If you can help somehow: money, time, anything. Please do. These are real people. These are somebody's friends, family, happy memories. This could have been you, or someone you care about.

But I'm sure you're doing what you can to help without needing me to prod you.

I think I'm gonna go through all of my old clothes and shoes and see about donating it all to those who need it.

Epilogue

2005-09-03T01:33:00.000-05:00

Or is it more of a denouement?

Anyway, I wasn't thinking about posting about this until he mentioned it to me (see, you have put ideas in my head), but I've had a pretty decent conversation with my ex. We've made up, and are friends for the most part.

I'm really happy about this. There were apologies on both sides, the good ones that we have both needed to hear from each other. Also, there were comments about the perspective gained by both of us, and I've found the ability to laugh (in a good way) about some of what has happened.

I feel really good.

There have been other things going on that have been dragging me down a lot, but I had a revelation about it last night. I had recently uncovered this old issue I have been carrying around for Goddess knows how long. It's so old that I forget about it and bury it and it still drives me subconciously to this day.

Somewhere along the way, someone somehow convinced me that I am a worthless piece of crap.

The sad thing is that I still believe this deep down, and it's yet another thing that has tainted my entire life. I suddenly realized very clearly that a lot of uncertainty about my career choices are because of this, not to mention the damage done to my friendships and relationships because of this. My friends may not see as much of it, because I can keep them at some kind of distance. But the closer someone gets to me (like, oh, say, a boyfriend?), the more I either convince myself that they don't like me, or I subconsciously try to convince them that they don't want to like me.

This can really put a damper on a girl's social life.

To his credit, my ex understood this, and in his way tried to snap me out of it. But ha! My will to dislike myself is much stronger. And now my new boy is now attempting to do the same. How many boys do I need to go through before I stop? I think I'm going to try to change this pattern now. For really real. I've done a lot more than let friendships go and make people frustrated with me. This dislike of myself has been so strong that to deal with it I spent a lot of time in my head. I would have visions in my head of how I felt I really was on the inside. It was fucking with my intuition, too, and I couldn't trust what was real and what wasn't.

The minute I uncovered this little treasure of a core belief, my daydreams of myself went away. It's been difficult to deal with the loss, but my intuitive abilities are intact, and I have the sneaking suspicion that I'll be able to trust myself a little more after I get this resolved. And I'm sure I'll still have visions and daydreams and other inspiring things. It all just has to change a little first.

I'm actually looking forward to what lies ahead.

gasp I want!

2005-08-26T12:22:00.000-05:00

http://asofterworld.com/prints.html

I've always meant to buy one of these prints when they go on sale, but I can never decide which one (cuz I could never afford more than one).

But this time, I'm not missing the boat. I love them all, but I'm trying to decide between "Truth and Beauty Bombs" and "Being In Love Is Totally Punk Rock." And tied for second is "Scuba Kittens" and "My Parents" and... oh hell, I want them all!

*looks out at everyone reading, assumes a cute facial expression and bats eyes*

Anyone and everyone who's my friend and who loves me will buy me one for my birthday, right?

*does cute little girl giggle*

You do know that my birthday is October 19th, correct?

I will be 26.

Swallowing my pride.

2005-08-24T12:30:00.000-05:00

So for the past few days I've been taking a long, hard look at myself. And some of the things that I've seen haven't made me very happy.

I started reading a book my Melody Beattie called "Codependent No More." And some of the things I've read in it apply very directly to my relationships with friends and loved ones. Especially with my ex.

And I realize now that what I had thought was my acceptance and assumption of responsibility in how things went wrong didn't cover the larger picture at all, just the symptoms. And although I really did need to vent a lot of anger, hurt, and resentment towards him (I fully believe that emotions should be expressed), a lot of it was what I had brought on myself.

This isn't about blaming him, and this isn't about beating myself up. This is about really taking responsibility for my actions. This is about admitting that I was wrong.

We played into each other incredibly well. To use terms from the book, we "rescued" each other. We were "caretakers" for each other. We let that grow into resentment towards each other, and then into persecution of each other. And I don't know how much he did this, but I know that I would constantly turn it around so that I ended up being the "victim." I constantly became a martyr. And neither one of us saw it for what it really was.

And we kept it up for three years.

And now that I can see the big picture, I can't be so angry at him anymore. Certainly there are things that I still hurt about, things that I'm still bitter over. But they're trivial now. I can let them go.

Ever since I figured all this out, I've wanted to email him and tell him. Not to apologize, so much as to indeed say that I was wrong. I was wrong about being resistant to getting on mood medications. I was wrong about thinking I didn't need therapy. I was wrong about thinking that the big problems were only his, and that he was using me as an excuse to not focus on them.

But I don't know if it's the best time to contact him, really. It's been pointed out to me that I did just create a boundary between myself and my ex, and this would be breaking it down to an extent.

Honestly, though, I don't think emailing my ex would change anything, or fix anything. I don't know how he would respond. And it's not like I want to re-establish communication completely. I just hit that moment of revelation that happens when you realize and understand completely how you fucked up. The kind of revelation that makes you go back to people you've stopped talking to, to admit what you really did. The kind of revelation I was waiting for him to have.

But I had one instead.

So I might wait a little while, or not. But I think I really need to do this, mostly for myself. And yeah, part of me wants to warn him. Wants to suggest that he look this stuff up too, that he really look at himself. But I don't know if that's my business anymore. I don't even know how much of a part he would have played if I had acted differently.

So I just want to let him know that I was wrong, and that I'm sorry.

Nostalgia and a birthday party...

2005-08-21T12:39:00.000-05:00

My coworker friend and his wife are two of several awesome people I have met through my ex, and people I considered "my friends" just as much as I considered them my ex's. I've spent plenty of time at their house, by this point, and have even been to a party of theirs before without my ex.

But yesterday was their son's second birthday party, and an occasion for the entire circle to show up for a shindig that only this couple can throw. And I had a really great time! I stayed way later than I had originally intended, and enjoyed the company of many nifty people.

And yet, it seemed strange at times.

It just hit me that, on an occasion such as this, my ex would and should have been there. I didn't feel quite like I had taken his place, but it seemed funny to me that he was gone and I was accepted into this group on my own merit.

It was a mere seven months ago that the two of us were celebrating New Years' eve in much the same fashion. But it seems like a lifetime ago sometimes. And I had met all these people because of my ex, in my ex's presence, and usually seen them in tow with my ex. And now I am alone.

I suppose sometimes I still miss him, but a lot of it is just habit. How things used to be. I feel a lot more comfortable being myself now without him around. I had mentioned some of what went on to my therapist the other day. Her comment was "He sounds very controlling." It was just a little bit more validation, but something I needed.

And I recounted the whole sordid breakup story to her (an epic that spanned over two months, so much so that I can barely remember when it began and when exactly it ended), with little details thrown in that most people don't get to hear. And as I reached the end of it I felt that much stronger, that much prouder of myself. Instead of being passive, or elusive, I stood up for myself. Remembering this feels good.

And in a way I'm greatful for what I went through, because if I hadn't learned what wasn't good for me, I wouldn't be able to appreciate the sweetness of what I have now.

Love is really a funny little thing. I won't ever say that I didn't truly love my ex. It just seems like such a paradox, to say that I honestly loved and on some level still care about someone who wasn't good for me, and makes me terribly angry and bitter at times. But then, I tend to be quite the contradiction. And I have the habit of seeing the beauty of people's insides, ignoring certain outward traits that are more negative. Once I make that connection with a person, more often than not all else is forgiveable, because I know that person's soul. Things like being constantly late, or forgetting to call, or being a womanizer, or rough around the edges, etc. That's just who these people are, it's part of what makes them them. (The thing for me to remember is how much of who these people are affects me. Something I can get into the habit of forgetting.)

We really are all beautiful and perfect, exactly as we are, "warts" and all. If only I could convince others to see in themselves what I see in them. And even as I say that, others say it of me.

"Healer, heal thyself."

Heh.

Zen and the art of personal maintenance...

2005-08-19T12:30:00.000-05:00

I can't remember if this was told to me as a joke, or if it was explained as allegory, but I do find it amusing.

A Confucianist, a Buddhist, and a Zen monk are all standing around a bowl of vinegar. Each dips their finger into the bowl, and tastes the vinegar. The Confucianist and the Buddhist both grimace at the taste, and proclaim that the vinegar tastes terrible, and isn't it oh so awful. (or something. my memory is lacking, please forgive)

But the Zen monk tastes the vinegar and smiles, because it tastes exactly as it should.

I like that. It's harder to apply in real life, but once you get it, you get it. I just don't always get it. What I'm trying to figure out is how to allow the old bitternesses in my life to be as they are, and not grimace at the taste anymore. I won't say it's ridiculous to carry around a hurt that I've had since I was six years old, but I will say that it's probably about time to let it go.

I suppose that if what had happened hadn't happened, there would still be suffering in my life. It's silly to think otherwise. And my path may not have even been realized like I think it would have been, if things hadn't happened the way they did.

But dammit, a girl can dream, can't she?

*sigh* The thing that makes me sad is that it's time to find a new dream. It's been time for a long time. So, maybe one last hurrah of angst, and then? Well, I couldn't really say. I haven't had a real dream in a long, long time. Most people who know me now know a girl without one. And it's also funny, all of my secrets are really things that are just common knowledge to people who don't know me anymore.

It's all just stuff that no one knows anymore.

Where the heck have I been?

2005-08-18T19:39:00.000-05:00

It's been far too long, hasn't it?
So, let's recap:

1) I have been dutifully taking a mood stabilizer twice a day every day for the past two weeks. I'm not completely evened out, but the mood swings are somewhat gentler. I think I was so positive when I started taking them because I went into a shift of euphoria overdrive. I fell into a slight depression last weekend, but without most of the wishes to do bad things to myself that has been accompanying such. This is good.

2) My dad's birthday was last weekend. Yay! He is still alive, and as well as can be expected, and we didn't get into an argument about the minivan or nuthin'! We also feasted on mussels, clams, paella, cheesecake and coconut flan! (We are an ecclectic group, my family.)

3) My aunt gave me a haircut over the weekend as well. 'Bout friggin' time!

4) I hooked up the PS2!!! That's mostly where I have been, aside from the being more anti-social because of the depression thing. I forgot how much fun it is to immerse yourself in a really cool video game for several hours. Almost like reading a good book, 'cept there's repetetive musical accompanyment that keeps playing along in the game. And there are more monsters to fight. Definitely more monsters.

Oh, right, I should mention that I have been playing Chrono Trigger, one of the bestest ever RPGs of all time!!! In fact, I came online merely to get some advice from a walk-through on something (it may be wussy, but it really saves some time when you're not sure what you're doing). And now I'm going to go back to looking up my walkthrough. I just thought I'd pop in and say hi.

Hi.

I see my psychiatrist for a follow-up appointment tomorrow, btw. It's funny, he wrote my diagnosis codes on my receipt/next appointment sheet of paper. There was a key for a lot of the diagnoses, but mine weren't on it! So my clever, resourceful boy looked them up for me. Apparently so far I am labeled as "general mood disorder" and "general personality disorder."

My personality is in disorder? Hmph.

Yeah, I really do find this amusing at the moment. Although I'm suspicious that I might get labeled as "borderline." It'll take a little time to make peace with that thought, if it's the case. My limited experience with borderline people hasn't been pleasant, and I'd hate to think myself as such. Although another discussion with the boy has led me to remember to be open minded about things, and not have an absolute negative or positive opinion about certain personality traits and whatnot. *sigh* My apologies to anyone I've thought wrongly about, whether we know it or not.

Alive and kicking!

2005-08-09T12:30:00.000-05:00

And without all the caffeine of that last post.

Spent some good quality time with my boy this weekend. We laughed, we cried, we did naughty things. Time with boy is always well spent.

Did I mention that he got me a random present?

It was quite the surprise! The first thing he did when we got back to his place was pull me into his bedroom to give me this surprise he'd been hinting at for the past month or so. (I got him good with a really nice Zippo from Japan, and apparently he just couldn't be outdone...) He handed me the dual disc "Greatest Hits" PS1 version of ChronoTrigger and Final Fantasy 4 (which, I realized later, is my beloved "Final Fantasy 2," which was how they released it in the U.S.). "How sweet! Now I don't have to go hunt it down when I finally get that PS2 that I've been meaning to get!" I thought.

And then he says "Oh yeah, you're going to need something to save your game with too." And he comes back with, yup, a PS2!

Color me surprised! OMG! He even got me other things I'd need, like memory cards for both systems and a warranty! In't he so sweet? I got in too late to hook it up last night, but I think that's on the agenda for this evening, after I finally do something about the wreck that is my kitchen.

No, really. It's a total wreck. So bad that the friend who watched my cats had to threaten to thwap me with a rolled up newspaper upon my return. My defense is that that's what depression does to people. And it's honestly true. I just stopped caring about things like knocked over plants and dishes and stains covering the counters. It gets worse, but I'll spare you the details.

However, I have an ace up my sleeve now. I made the leap, and am actually taking a mood stabilizer! The first meds I've ever been on, and it's about damn time.

I lucked into an awesome Psychiatrist who had an opening Thursday morning before I left for DC. He narrowed down all of my life's complicated problems to one specific, simple solution, and wrote me a prescription that I filled the same afternoon. I started taking them that night, and immediately noticed a difference.

Kinda like the first time I got stoned during a major depression, actually.

But the loopiness went away very quickly, and I just feel more...grounded? It's hard to describe without going into all of the backstory, but there are so many little things I've noticed. So far I've had plenty of opportunities to sink into these terribly black moods, only I haven't sunk so far, and I've come back out of them rather easily. I've had a few flashes of wanting to cut myself, but not as strong, and not for too long, and they haven't been around at all the past few days. (I may go into detail about all of this in some other post.) I don't pick at my skin the way that I used to. And now, my first day back at work, I feel more focused than I have in a long while.

I'm really hoping this keeps up. I feel like I'm not ruled by my emotions as much anymore. I feel like I can get stuff done for once. Wow. Please, Goddess, please let this keep up.

Here's to hope, y'all. May it keep us all alive.

What a strange 24 hours it has been so far...

2005-08-03T12:30:00.000-05:00

So I went out to this club called Pulse last night with my friend Matty and proceeded to both rock the mic at karaoke (although another girl beat me in the contest *pout*) and get fairly drunk off of cheap martinis. Nuthin' weird about all that.

So we're driving home when Matty's car stalls for no reason a little ways from my house. It was very amusing to deal with car problems while drunk. (No, really!) I don't drink that often, so when I do I like to have enough time to enjoy it, even if I'm waiting for AAA.

I go home to sleep it off, though, and whilst lying in bed awaiting my transition to dreamland I suddenly remembered this really really creepy story from the Creepshow movie. Usually movies don't freak me out, but oh my god this just messes with my head.

Creepshow is a movie of four separate horror/sci-fi-ish stories, and the last one... *shudder* Okay, so like, there's this guy who's not too bright who lives on this farm, right? And this meteor crash lands in his backyard one night. And for some reason (maybe it's setting things on fire?) it's too hot, so he dumps water on it, but by doing that it causes all these weird, super-thin blades of grass to spring up everywhere. And it gets worse and worse, and he can't figure out that water is what causes it to spread, so it, like, ends up on his hands and his tongue and stuff. And it makes him itch, so he goes and sits in a bathtub of water to stop the itching! The next thing you see is this human form lumbering around, covered in grass, with all the creepy sounding breathing effects of someone with grass growing in their lungs *shudders again* and he goes and gets a shotgun and blows his head off! And the last scene is montages of how this grass just grows and grows and grows until the whole farm is covered....

I am getting all kinds of creeped out just by writing about it. *shudders even more*

And so I can't get that out of my head for a bit (and I even tried of thinking of cute puppies and sunbeams and stuff).

Then at the same time I suddenly started remembering the feeling of visiting Reston for the first time with my ex (which was a September). This is harder to explain, but there are memories for me that are just feelings of stuff, and sometimes they tie into the feelings of the seasons and other stuff. Usually I get some feeling of September and autumn in late summer (which is funny because there are no outward signs that autumn is coming, and September is really just as hot as summer down here).

So the feeling of fall approaching has been with me today as well.

And then this morning there was mad crazy traffic congestion, about a million cops (just cops, no firemen or ambulances) headed in the opposite direction of me, all of them in undercover vehicles (some of which are actually given normal paint jobs, so Orlando residents beware! They're not all white!), and then this guy in front of me slows down to avoid a hubcap rolling out into the street. I look over to see that somehow a woman had turned off of the road, up onto the curb, over about 10 feet of sidewalk, and smashed into the side of a parked semi-truck trailer (that was right next to a chain link fence, which she also drove through). It must have just happened, I could still see her in the car.

And yet, with all the traffic and diversions, I made it to work on time!

WTF??? This is most definitely a weird day...

Who would have thought?

2005-08-01T12:30:00.000-05:00

So first thing this morning, I get a phone call. From a headhunter. Telling me about how this other lighting company in South Florida would offer me a lot of money to relocate and be in charge of people and make decisions and stuff.

My first thought was, how the hell does anyone think that I'm good enough at what I do to try to steal me away from where I am?

To be honest, I was curious, but there are a lot of reasons why I politely declined, including the fact that I really don't want to live in South Florida.

But more than that, I'm kinda happy where I am right now. On days when I'm not severely depressed I feel pretty good about my job, and the people I work with. All my coworkers are pretty awesome people, I get a lot of freedom to do stuff that I might not get anywhere else, and I can be pretty loyal. There's a lot that I'm trying to do right now that I want to see through. If I ever did leave, I would want to leave the place in much better shape than when I came in, and in a place where someone could easily take over without having to start all over again.

And as my coworker confidante says, it's really not all about the money.

Of course, this has never happened to me before, so I went into his office, wide eyed, asking if he could keep a secret. He grinned and basically explained that it happens a lot, and I don't need to worry about whether our boss knows or not. "Feels pretty good, doesn't it?" he asked.

Um, yeah, I guess so...

I can't help but feel oftentimes that I'm living some kind of lie. That I put on a good face, but it's really all just makeup and lighting tricks. And a lot of that comes from my tendency to see the ideal of what needs to be done, think of grand ideas and plans, and barely follow through on any of them.

In my mind, I know I should be so much greater than what I actually am.

And, of course, another friend of mine basically told me last night that I need to stop living in my head. Well, duh.

But just because I know that doesn't mean I know how to stop. Somewhere along the way I learned to only look outward for positive response that what I am doing is okay. It's been so bad for me lately that I can be happy and fine when I am around most people, when it behooves me to put on my pretty face. But when I'm left alone I crumble. It's like I can barely keep myself together.

Hopefully this will pass. Hopefully there is a psychiatrist who can help me. Drugs are never a complete answer to anything, but if I really do have a chemical problem (which I think there's a good chance of), then there's probably something out there that can help me function better.

It's just hanging on until then that's the hard part.

It's the little things, really...

2005-08-01T12:26:00.000-05:00

I think I made the best sammich ever Sunday morning.

Peanut butter and ice cream!

OMG this was some good stuff! To really make it work well you want a sweeter bread (I opted for Whole Foods brand 12 grain), and peanut butter that isn't too salty (again, Whole Foods brand crunchy, with a smidge of salt mixed in). But I think I'm onto something here.

This is even better than the leftover Thanksgiving turkey and whipped cream sammich I used to make. (You can only do it at Thanksgiving, and the whipped cream has to be that heavy whipping cream that you make yourself.)

The Illusion of Permanence, the Reality of the Ephemeral

2005-07-29T12:24:00.000-05:00

Apparently there really is very little that lasts forever.

I go back and forth on this, knowing the truth and being alternately okay with it and depressed by it. (It used to depress me a lot more when I was younger, I think.)

And yet, sometimes I still have this little hope that maybe someday I'll find something permanent. Something good and real that lasts. (And I'm talking very broadly here.) Usually I tend to slant towards the bad things being the constant, and the good things being ever so fleeting.

A lot of times, when I am in a good mood, I start thinking "Maybe I can always be this way." And, of course, when I think about it I am immediately met with another thought of "I'm just going to get unhappy again. This won't last." I rarely think the opposite when I am glum.

But I recognize the spiral of life. We go around and around, experiencing something for a time, moving on to something else, coming back sort-of full circle. That's life, and it can be an amazing thing.

But more and more I think that the way my moods cycle, it's a little bit more intense than the rest of the world. I'm not just happy and sad, I'm ecstatic and depressed, teetering wildly on this seesaw between madness and sanity. And no matter how many times I reach some form of happiness, it seems I just go right back down again.

And even though I know that it doesn't seem to matter much, I find that I am afraid of ecstacy.

If I reach these dizzying heights, it won't last. I burn out, I fly too close to the sun. And perhaps the disappointment of having to fall back to earth is why. But I still think it's a sad thing.

But that's just stuff going on in my life. There are a lot of changes going on with the people around me right now. It can be sometimes unsettling for myself, or even more so for the others who are going through it.

Why can't we ever just find the jello-mold of in between?

Everything you know is wrong...

2005-07-27T12:30:00.000-05:00

I seem to have trouble focusing and staying on task.

Even on days like today, where I feel pretty good in the morning, and say to myself "Okay, today I'm gonna accomplish stuff. No dicking around." After a few hours, my motivation really turns to shit.

I kinda noticed it before. I'm really good at thinking up artistic projects for myself, only to lose interest in them in varying degrees of time. I'll get interested in lots of things, and then they fall by the wayside. I didn't think it was a problem, per se, I just thought I was incredibly slack.

The things I'm interested in, I feel driven in accomplishing. If I have a set time schedule, I can focus to no end, forgoing sleep and food and anything else. Or, at least, I used to be able to do so, when I was younger and able to push my body harder.

Now that I'm a little older, it's getting harder to stay the course. And because of this, I think I'm able to see that this may actually be a problem for me.

What got me thinking about this is the little bit of research I did yesterday on cyclothymia, a sort-of form of bipolar disorder (or manic depression, to those not in the know). My therapist had suggested I research it, to see if it made sense to my life. Not everything seemed to ring true, but it raised some questions for me.

A lot of the more fleshed out descriptions (such and such person feels this way, does this, etc.) sounded like descriptions of completely "normal" people to me. And that either means that I am not "normal," or there is a lot of making up of problems that aren't there.

And I do think that a lot of times people come up with problems that simply aren't problems.

But that's an attitude that I get from my mother, I think. Which is another frustration. She just doesn't seem to want to see when anything's wrong with me unless it's rubbed directly in her face. (You should see the look on her face whenever she encounters the fact that I cut myself. Yeah. I do that sometimes.)

And the really funny thing is, to me, that's "normal." I could never admit that my depressions were ever some sort of problem that could be treated by professionals, I just thought it was me giving in to being a crybaby. I just thought I was slack. And I used to think that I only cut myself because I learned it from other "normal" people around me, that I was a wannabe (as if one could only hope to be authentic in the practice).

Okay, say it with me everybody:

"Gee, Rose. That's pretty fucked up."

Well, maybe for some people out there. "Normal" perhaps? I don't know. One of the other reasons I have been so reluctant to seek help is the very real knowledge that what I deal with is only the tip of a large and complicated iceberg, that there are others with problems far worse.

And yet, there's a vast and open sky of people who don't get it. Who expect productivity and results. Who expect me to fit into their world, when maybe the expectation should be that there's a world that fits into me.

And I haven't even begun to comment on how I worry about my bouts of supposed "euphoria" and how exactly they tie in to my spirituality.

Sometimes life most definitely sucks.

I am a big boy and I will swallow it all...

2005-07-19T12:30:00.000-05:00

So I'm probably the last Nine Inch Nails fan on earth to pick up the latest album, With Teeth. I didn't even opt for the dual disc Dolby surround sound version, just the plain ol' regular version. (Honestly, I don't have the surround sound setup to appreciate it. That's what boyfriends are for! ;-) ) And I've only had the album since last night, so bear with my half-baked review.

But again I remember my deep and long lasting love for Trent Reznor.

Well, actually at this point it's more like a profound admiration with some adoration and affection thrown in the mix. Not only is Trent an astounding businessperson, the man is an incredible musician! (A great combination if you want to get anywhere in the music industry, and one that always commands my respect.) The sounds he creates are like none anyone else could ever hope to make. If you do hear something similar, it is only because Trent did it first. And actually, the only time I can think of that I have heard a signature NIN sound is in "Seven Years In Tibet," a David Bowie song from Earthling, the album that Trent worked on with him. The man must have some kind of crazy mad intellectual property copyrights going on behind the scenes or something. Nobody copies NIN's sound (or at least, not well). Few people cover them. They only remix, and probably only at Trent's behest. (Not like I know any of this for certain.)

With Teeth is a good, solid album. It does feel a tad short to me, as if it's filler between more important projects, and it definitely doesn't have the all encompassing musical themes that showed up on The Downward Spiral and were cemented on The Fragile, which made it the masterpiece that it is. (That album is fucking artistic genius, and anyone who doesn't hear that must be deaf.) However, it's not out of line in the grand scheme of things.

At first listen, I almost want to say that Trent's suffering what a lot of brilliant artists who've been around quite a while suffer from. The songs sound a little tired, a little less original. It's as if everything he did built up to The Fragile, and once he hit that pinnacle he fell into a denoument. But it seems more like what happened to Radiohead with Hail To The Theif, which followed up such previous groundbreakings as OK Computer, Kid A, and Amnesiac. But it's still a really good, solid album. I suppose these plateaus have to happen every once in a while. (Let's hope he doesn't go the way of Depeche Mode. Did you listen to Exiter? Yeesh...)

The music itself reminds me a lot of The Fragile for the most part. A mix of electonic/industrial/rock with softer instruments like the piano. And I absolutely love how he uses the piano. Guitars and drums are great for the angry, crunchy sound that NIN can be known for, but when he places those soft piano bits into his compositions it adds this extra depth, this quiet introspection that comes with maturity.

And I think that he's definitely maturing. His lyrics touch on the same old NIN themes that he's always touched on. Lonliness, isolation, etc. etc. (Geez, does he have to break up with a girlfriend before he does every album?) And the man is quite the angst factory. I'm not sure how much of his lyrics are based off of personal experience anymore and how much is just what he think he needs to write. Stuff like "The Collector" sounds a little forced. (Does he really still feel like that?) But there's an older sensibility to other songs, like "Right Where It Belongs," "The Hand That Feeds," and "Every Day Is Exactly The Same." This isn't the fucked-up youth angry and confused by the world. He's played the game, seen the world, and it's still the same goddam mess that it was ten years ago.

I'm not sure whether he's actually writing about himself, or commenting on the desperate lives of people as a whole, but I hear a lot of complexity in what he's saying. "What if everything around you / Isn't quite as it seems / What if all the world you think you know / Is an elaborate dream / And if you look at your reflection / Is it all you wanted to be? / What if you could look right through the cracks / Would you find yourself / Find yourself afriad to see?" I hear the thoughts of someone who has lived their life in one specific way for so long, and senses a need to change, but doesn't know how to do it. Or perhaps is afraid. Or both. And I can definitely relate to that.

It's kind of scary to admit, but NIN has been an integral part of my life as I have grown up. For a significant amount of the black moods I have been in since the age of fifteen, Trent Reznor has come up with a musical idea that expressed perfectly how I was feeling. He's usually pretty good at summing everything up into one perfect, catchy little phrase. "Tried to save myself but myself keeps slipping away" is so perfect! Unfortunately, "Why do you get all the love in the world?" sounds a tad more whiny. But it's okay, I can forgive. The complexity of the music he's making more than makes up for the less-than-profound lyrics. And there's something deeper going on under the surface, I am sure of it.

And I can't wait to hear what he comes out with next.

Time Travel, Blogger Style

2005-07-17T19:27:00.000-05:00

So in a valiant attempt at procrastinating on leaving my apartment today, I let myself get sucked into reading old blog posts.

Have I changed?

I think I have. A whole lot has happened in what I suppose is a short amount of time and yet feels like forever ago.

The two things that seem to have noticeably changed are the jaunty semi-comedic writing voice that I had been using for a while, and the lenth of my posts in general. These may or may not be bad things.

It's funny, reading what I was thinking when my ex and I had first broken up. I used to miss him, I really did. And I was trying to be friends with him, I really was. And now?

Now the only thing I really miss is the convenience of having another person sharing my apartment. And I've found that I just can't be friends with him. I don't think I really mentioned it, did I? After a few random IM conversations and phone calls that all resulted in my further misery (and yes, I did bring some of that onto myself), I realized that I just needed to not hear from him. Ever. I've got enough going on in life as is, I uncovered a lot of anger towards him that I refused to admit was there initially, and I'm never going to hear him acknowledge that he ever did anything wrong.

And he's not changing.

Or, rather, he started changing for the worse, and he isn't getting better. And frankly, it's none of my business anymore. He doesn't listen to me anyway. Why should I bother? And I most definitely don't ever want him back.

I'm really writing a lot of this now because I haven't made much mention of it here. (I've done a lot of spleen venting in LiveJournal, and only if you are one of my "friends" will you ever know the full extent of it.) I figured it might be good for continuity's sake.

I don't think my ex is reading this anymore either.

But enough about him. I haven't really talked to him in two weeks, and I feel like maybe now I can finally let go and heal.

A lot of other things have changed. Living on my own is interesting. I feel a lot closer now to the girl I was in college, only I have a little bit more life experience and a "real job" to help me pay the bills. For the most part it's really great! There are, however, unfortunate things, like being sick on my own and having to do the dishes and laundry and cook for myself.

But my cats can sleep in bed with me every night, and I don't have to feel guilty that my place is still a mess.

It's my own space. It's something I've been wanting for a long time. It's peaceful, and comfy, and quiet, and sometimes lonely, but it's mine. All mine! If I can throw off the shackles of employment obligation in my mind, I even feel totally free! Lots of nights I just come home and tune out, or I go out to Stardust and hang out. I feel tired, or purposeless sometimes. But it's okay. Life is happening. It's going on. And everything is real.

There was this terrible effect my ex had on me, to put a pretty face on everything, say everything's just fine. When anyone does that, it invalidates them. There's honest, genuine stuff happening in people's lives, and even if it's messy it feels so much better to actually be honest about it.

And I've said this to my new boy (who has been with me through the thick and the thin of my unexpected depression), even though I've been depressed I'm still happy because I'm feeling something. I feel alive again.

Therapy's going pretty well too. I think my psychologist finally hit "pay dirt" in my inner workings yesterday. What started as a discussion about something current in life led to a lot of other things that have happened in the past, and a running theme with the way I see myself. She may just figure out who I am after all.

The best part is, she doesn't make me feel like anything I do is bad or wrong, she just observes. At first I thought this was strange, but I've found it very helpful. I don't feel guilty for anything I'm doing or not doing. I don't feel like I'm a "fucked up" person. I just am. It's amazing.

I've let go of the idea that my parents have control over my life (although things feel a little off between us now). And I've just let go of a lot of pressure on myself in general. I'm just getting by, day to day. And suddenly I'm having more "good" days than "bad" ones. And if I have a bad day, it's just a bad day. There will be other days to follow.

And the more people I talk to about the symptoms that my problems produce, the more I find that it really doesn't change their opinion of me one way or the other. (And if it does, "eff 'em.")

I suppose I should wrap up, this is probably a very long post by now. But I want to publicly acknowledge my boy (sweet, wonderful boy that he is). I thank him all the time, but I think I'm going to keep thanking him. He's given me a lot of support that I never thought I'd get from anyone. Everyone should buy him chocolate, because he's so wonderful. (Good, dark chocolate too. Not that paltry milk chocolate crap. ;-) )

OMG, can I really be this excited about comics?

2005-07-16T11:43:00.000-05:00

You all have to check this out:

You Ain't No Dancer

Sure, I looked at it because one of my friends' stories is in it, and I know some of the other people involved. But that's not the point.

The point is that I haven't been this excited about an anthology, to the point that I want to actually buy the damn thing in a really long time. (Since Flight, actually. And whaddya know, some of the Flight contributors have contributed to this one too.)

Lots of neat little stories, although the theme is "The Worst of Times"...

But check it out. Now. All of you! Come on, this is good stuff! *bounce bounce*

Ladies and gentlemen, I submit for your approval...

2005-07-15T20:52:00.000-05:00

Photographic proof of my geekiness... (View the picture posts below.)

2005-07-15T20:50:00.000-05:00

Old and busted.

2005-07-15T20:49:00.000-05:00

The new hotness.

A slight rant on gender equality...

2005-07-12T12:30:00.000-05:00

So yes, the subject has come up a couple of times recently, and I must say that I am getting a little frustrated.

If you are a white male, you are obviously going to see the world a little differently than if you are a white woman. (Same goes for black men, black women, hispanics, asians, etc. etc.) But come on people!

I had a well-educated black man from New York tell me that he thinks that women have more power than they realize.

I had two transient white gentlemen from Philly remark upon how it sucks being a white male because they're the butt of all jokes momentarily, and basically get no respect.

I read a cute little column in Oprah magazine (supposedly written by a male psychologist) which repeated the fact over and over again that apparently all men really want is sex.

True, women are not powerless, but the ones who succeed more often in not are the ones who fit into the roles created for them through the "male" paradigm. (I put "male" in quotes because it's really a societal structure at this point favoring one viewpoint traditionally associated with one gender rather than the other.) How many average looking women are rock stars? How many successful businesswomen are "bitchy?" Men honestly do think differently than women. When I stated this to the gentleman from New York, he was baffled. "Men are really simple! We like things simple! There's nothing to figure out!" Which completely circumvented the initial statement.

"Simple" vs. "Complicated" is most definitely different. Just because men think one way doesn't mean women think the same.

And it's not even down to a matter of "men" vs. "women" so much as "those who think like engineers" and "those who think like artists." Not even that really. There are so many different variations on thought, it can boggle the mind.

But I digress.

My point (which seemed to be ignored at the time) is that society is still based on the way most men (and some women) tend to think. I am trying to go into details about this, but I only have a vague perception of it based on memories from reading The Feminine Mystique (which I highly reccommend to anyone, just for the sense of history alone). So you'll just have to look for it yourself. But believe me, it's there. Work for a workaholic and you'll understand.

And as for men wanting to have sex all the time, this can't possibly be true, can it? Don't get me wrong, I love sex, and I love being considered beautiful and sexy, but I personally feel rather empty if this is the entirety of others' perceptions of me. I am so much more than my naughty bits, and I would venture to extend the same courtesy to my counterparts.

I see it as an insult to men everywhere that they are simplified to such an extent that all they really want is to have sex. How do the men in the house feel about this? Honestly, I want to know. I am confused.

Magick is everywhere...

2005-07-09T22:53:00.000-05:00

For being mostly Floridian, and definitely southern for most of my life, I thought I'd been doing pretty well. I've been around a little, seen cities and countryside, seen a clear and starry sky in the middle of the country night, and even snow on multiple occasions (complete with ill-fated skiing attempts).

And yet, I've never been to Virginia in the summer.

What makes this so special? One word. Fireflies.

I've seen them before, gazing out the window on a road trip in Missouri. There were a few of them closer to the ground on the side of the road. I thought they were pretty cool. But here, here they light up the trees! I didn't know the night could sparkle like it does. No man made anything can compare to this wonderfully beautiful, simple act of nature that's been going on throughout all of the history of time.

I look up at these tiny little lights, and I can't help but be amazed. And I think about how they've been around since before electric light, and I wonder what the people alive back then thought of them.

How can anyone look at the natural world around us and not believe for at least a split second that there is truly magick in the world?

Happy Fireworks!

2005-07-05T12:30:00.000-05:00

Had an interesting weekend dragging my two college chums around Orlando. We feasted on sushi (Fuji Sushi is the way to go!) and Mexican food (PR's - you haven't had good Mexican food until you've been to a good hole-in-the-wall restaurant). We made a trek to the Virgin Megastore (they don't got those fancy stores in Savannah). We hung out. I tried to introduce them to my O-Town pals with mixed success (although the 4th of July barbecue seemed to be a rousing success). I made Drew show me his unfinished artwork. Antar sang for us (and very well too!). We played with my cats. Good times. :-)

And I mused about what it meant to me to be American.

I've been trying to write this little essay about it all weekend, but it never seemed to gel. And it's funny, thinking about it while in the midst of revelers lighting off as many pyrotechnics as they can afford (technically legal or no).

How many of us just think about Independence Day as the night we all get to light fireworks?

Now, I've never been one to be terribly patriotic. When my ex was working on the Kerry campaign, I would put on a pretty face and smile. "Go America! I'm a patriotic liberal! It's our country too!" But inside I felt a little hollow. I've been ashamed of my country for quite a long time, and rarely see hope of progress to the idealistic society I was taught about in school.

I never really had much school spirit either.

Why should I pledge my allegiance to an entity merely because that's where I wound up? Certainly I chose my college, and I did ultimately choose my high school. I even believe that on a spiritual level I chose to be born in America. But why cheer on a "team" that I don't feel like I'm a part of? I have never felt like an "American." It was never explained to me why I should pledge my allegiance to the flag. It was never explained to me what it even meant until I was a freshman in high school. And when someone finally prompted me to think about it, I was all at once ashamed that I had never thought about the words I was saying every morning and offended that no one else had ever before explained to me the promise I was making to my country.

I don't like professing blind allegiance unless it is a conscious decision on my part. (Yes, I get lazy, so I'll sometimes make the choice to go along with someone else's thinking. But I fully accept it as my choice.) So I stopped.

Thinking about it now, however, I realize that there are two faces to this country. There's the pretty, idealistic face we try to put on for everyone (including ourselves), the face of makeup, concealing creme, mascara, lipstick. A lot of us wear this face of national identity religiously. We cannot be seen without it. We try to make it our identity. We forget who we really are underneath.

And then there's the other face. The one that the rest of us wear. The one we're all born with. The one that doesn't need makeup.

This is my American face. My American identity. No matter how much I look to other cultures and countries for something to relate to, for some other part of my identity, I was born American. I grew up American. I didn't buy into the capitalist bullshit. I never went out for the cheerleading squad. But I was involved in the theater. I learned the history, good and bad. My American heritage is that of Hunter S. Thompson, the Hippy movement, the Feminist movement, the Beat Generation, the Lost Generation, Mark Twain, the conductors of the Underground Railroad. The people who knew the pretty face, but also saw what was behind it, and ultimately choose their own direction, for the good of all or not.

I am uniquely American in my outlook, only my uniqueness comes from the other side of that pretty face. And no matter where I go, this will always be a part of me.

Happy Independence Day (belated).

Where the party's at...

2005-06-29T12:30:00.000-05:00

Hello everyone. Sorry I haven't been posting the good, quality content that brings you back again and again like all the marketing magazines tell me I need to make my blog a successful business venture. (Aren't I clever? I'm applying sarcastic comments about my profession to my personal life!)

I've obviously been terribly introspective as of late, as well as pretty fucked up in the head. But I'm learning things about myself and other people, and I'm still alive, so I guess that's okay then. And I have been writing about it all, only, I have a confession to make.

I have been seduced by LiveJournal.

The privacy options are what got me. I can write stuff and let only certain people read it if I want to, which is a big plus for a secretive person like me. And they also provide you with nifty little text boxes that you can put whatever mood you're in and what music you're listening to (not to mention the cute little icons that go with it!). And it's a lot easier to network with my friends.

But fear not, I haven't abandoned the Girl in Black completely. I think I may start simultaneously posting all the news about me that's fit to show the masses, and I do enjoy writing thoughtful essay-like musings about life and my experiences on occasion. I think Blogger is perfect for that. So ultimately, I may turn this into a semi-respectable blog in the long run.

Of course, I'm in one of those moods right now where I feel confident that I can make all these big plans and promises, only to fall flat later on when major depression strikes.

Ah well, c'est la vie. I'm honestly just taking things one day at a time. And today, I think I'm doing pretty good...

The cute wars begin...

2005-06-21T18:52:00.000-05:00

Drew and Eleanor found a kitten.

It needs a home.

It is terribly cute.

-End Transmission

I want to give a formal shout out

2005-06-16T21:23:00.000-05:00

to this guy Praveen, who makes the most beautiful ambient music. Throughout my darkest days and nights, this cd has been with me to calm my troubled spirit.

Yeah, I know it sounds pretty flowery, but honestly, this is good stuff and it really did help me through my recent depression. Plus he is a friend of a friend, so it's, like, he's a real person! Support him, so that he might make more pretty sounds with things.

In other news, I think I'm going to sell the Volvo.

...

Did I hear an audible gasp from the crowd? Yeah, I, um, haven't really gone about cleaning it up or figuring out if this is even feasible, but when my coworker friend suggested Craig's List, I remembered my wicked idea to market Stella as an authentic "Liberalmobile" actually used by a Kerry staffer during the '04 election and it even comes complete with a slew of liberal, feminist, and old-school local Orlando scenester bumper stickers.

Do ya think it might work?

2005-06-13T12:30:00.000-05:00

So despite all of the familial drama on Friday (more about that in a second), I had a pretty nice weekend.

Ah yes, familial drama. So I mentioned I was getting a minivan? Only the terms of the arrangement were unknown? Well, apparently my parents didn't really discuss amongst themselves what exactly they wanted from me. So, in a sense, the minivan is a loan. How long of a loan? I'm not sure. See, my car still works. It just needs service, and I was getting really stressed about having to take it in.

Did I mention my mother worries too much?

I asked her for some helpful, grounded advice, because I was getting too overwhelmed with everything, and her response was "take the van, your car is too dangerous, we'll sell it."

Now, I don't think there are many people out there who would want my car. The leather seats have been "gently loved", the plastic in the interior falls off every now and again like limbs off of a leper, and the pain job is wearing away enough to allow the metal to become slightly rusty in spots.

So yeah, Stella needs some work.

What I was thinking was to just take her in to the Volvo mechanics we've been using as long as we've lived in The City Beautiful and say "Need parts? How much will you give me for her?" Simple, clean, a situation I could handle. But no.

*sighs* No, that's not good enough for my father. I mean, his heart's in the right place and all, but his preferred life lesson method equates to throwing a small child into a swimming pool so they'll learn how to swim. (And yes, for a time I had a swimming instructor who did just that. My comrades from the daycare center and I would huddle in shivering groups after it was over, congratulating ourselves if we didn't cry that day. But I digress...)

Not only is selling my car for parts a bad idea, but the minivan that they're lending me apparently isn't good enough for me either. (It does need work. The AC is busted, and the left rear speaker is blown. Plus there are other things going wrong with it that I probably don't know about yet.)

So basically, I am not allowed to drive the car that I actually own, I am not allowed to own the car that actually drives, and I have to magically pull enough money out of my ass to either buy someone else's hunk 'o junk or put myself into massive debt. All on my own. I have no say in the matter.

You see, my parents really do care. (Actually they do. My dad was really sweet and bought me a little fan that plugs into the cigarette lighter, to help with the airflow in the van.)

But I do have the minivan for the moment, and despite the lack of air conditioning it's not so bad. (The blown speaker is very annoying though.) It's so nice to smoothly glide down the road, the engine responding gracefully to the small amount of pressure I need to actually make the thing accelerate. On-ramps are no longer an obstacle to my merging onto I-4. I can pass those intimidating semis (and other large vehicles) with ease. I may become incredibly spoiled by this.

Plus, a little miracle of nature showed up this morning. As I looked behind me to make sure I wasn't hitting anything/anyone whilst backing out of my space, I noticed a perfectly made spider's web hung between the backseat and the floor of the trunk, gleaming in the morning sun.

Unfortunately, there was a semi-large, slightly intimidating looking spider sitting smack dab in the middle of it.

Now, I love nature, and I'm happy seeing little bits of it attempting to take back the land from the iron grasp of humainty, just not in my car. I was a jumble of nerves on the way to work, imagining spider legs crawling over me whilst helpless to do anything about it. I checked behind me frequently. The little guy hung on pretty well until I hit about 70 with all the windows cracked. But sure enough, once I slowed down and parked, I saw him sitting in the middle of his web again, waiting for all of the other tasty insects that lived in the trunk to come along.

My coworkers found my neurosis amusing, and refused to give me straight, reassuring answers about anything. I tried to identify my spider online, and found enough information to think that perhaps my fellow passenger was a brown widow. I compulsively searched Google on and off, finding out only just before lunch that perhaps I had only a mere garden spider trying to catch flies in my trunk. But I just couldn't be certain...

To make matters worse, at lunch we all went outside to see if he was still there, and he had vanished. Hopefully he got out of my car the same way he got in (no idea) and I won't see him again. I pray he didn't try to find a shady spot of the car to rest in...waiting until dark to come back out...

Hmm? Oh, right, the rest of my weekend.

My brother is being the awesomest sibling ever and is helping me acquire the pieces of my new computer. The parts will be ordered Friday, and I should have them Monday. Hooray! The only snag being that I may have to figure out how to reinstall XP...Uh oh...

I ran into an old acquaintance on Sunday, and ended up spending the evening with him and his friends. We went for lackluster Thai food (the company was great, the food was okay, the restaurant experience was off), and then I finally went to the famous Southern Nights, the gay club down the street from my apartment. We drank, we danced, we made merry. I was made deaf my speakers that were cranked to a level appropriate for a Saturday night dancefloor packed with people, not a Sunday night dancefloor sprinkled with myself and my companions.

I was very flattered when the lighting guy came out of the booth to (I am assuming) compliment my dancing abilities. Such a sweetie! I told him I work for the company that sold his club the lights, and we had a nice little bonding moment. I think I will have to return. Plus there is something so wonderful about being able to drink as many vodka tonics as I can afford, only to drunkenly stumble home later. Single girl walking home drunk? Dangerous? Nah...

Where is My Mind?

2005-06-10T12:30:00.000-05:00

Waaaaaaaay out in the water.

See it swimming.

So it has been brought to my attention by one of my "fans" (cleverly disguised as my boyfriend) that it has been a rather long time since I've posted here. And since I am always out to please my fans, I've come back.

There's just been a lot going on, both on the inside and the out, and I've been caught up in the malestrom of it all. So where to begin?

Well, for starters, I should remark that it has also been pointed out to me by another avid reader that there are those amongst you that might not understand 1337sp34k (or "leetspeak"), and therefore did not get my clever little joke about the Yakov Smirnoff theater. For those who didn't get it, "pwn3d" translates to "owned" which the Microsoft Parent's Primer to Computer Slang defines thusly:

"pwn": A typo-deliberate version of own, a slang term often used to express superiority over others that can be used maliciously, depending on the situation. This could also be spelled "0\/\/n3d" or "pwn3d," among other variations. Online video game bullies or "griefers" often use this term.

You can see how I would find a lot of amusement out of this, as I am one of the last people on the planet who would even remotely consider myself "1337."

In other news, my motherboard apparently became a casualty of one of our typical Florida afternoon thunderstorms, despite my surge protector's best efforts. At home I now have no internet, no iTunes, no way to create art digitally, no way to make music, no way to watch Robot Chicken. I am suffering withdrawl, and I believe this qualifies me for honorary geek status.

And if internet withdrwal doesn't do it, the fact that I am now on a mission to piece together my own modded out machine definitely does. My training is almost complete. Soon I will be a padawan no more! In the meantime I'll probably be borrowing an old and busted hand-me-down system from my parents, to get me re-connected to my little online world. Oh the agony! The frustration! Well, y'know, I could, like, always draw or something... But what would be the fun in that?

Speaking of old and busted, I think I may be losing my car soon. I've clung to her desperately for years. How could I ever betray my beloved Stella? She has been with me through thick and thin, hauling around theatrical supplies, friends, art, and the contents of my various dorm rooms and apartments for nearly ten years. I have had wild delusions of keeping her and rebuilding her (better, faster, stronger), making her the most badass Volvo around. But my parents have gently suggested to me that this can never happen, and I must take on another, more reliable vehicle in the meantime. They've even offered an old vehicle of theirs to get me by. It's not bad. It's got way better pickup, a decent stereo, loads of room. The catch?

It's a minivan.

Can I stress that word enough? Make it drip blood even? Iesus Christo! A muthafuckin' 1995 Honda Odyssey!? *weary sigh* I can feel my bohemian, "indy-rock-cool" self draining slowly away... However, if it does become mine outright the first thing I am going to do is plaster a NIN sticker very prominently on the back, followed by various other stickers to assert my dominance of personality over my vehicle. By the by, have I mentioned that I'm actually a punk sixteen-year-old masquerading as a mature young woman of twenty-five?

And before I get back to work, an update on the therapy front. I have found a psychologist, and I see her this Saturday afternoon. Hopefully she's down with the fact that I am Pagan and psychic. (For real yo! Bitch, I'll read your tarot cards somethin' good!) If not, the hunt continues...

And yeah, if you live in the Orlando area (or talk to me online or over the phone), I really will read your cards for you if you ask. 'S no trouble. Honest.

So did I tell you?

2005-06-06T12:30:00.000-05:00

Hooray! I got paid today!

Okay, so did I tell you that my checkbook got stolen last weekend? (Well, perhaps it just mysteriously disappeared...) Oh yeah, I didn't.

Well, anyway, in keeping up with a yearly tradition (three years running now) something happened to apparently compromise my bank information and I have had to switch my account number. I was really sweating the weekend as I was counting on getting paid on Friday, but due to the nature of direct deposit and having to redirect numbers and whatnot, I was told I would not get paid until Tuesday.

It's Christmas come early! Woohoo! Now I get to pay my credit card bill! (This actually gives me pleasure, believe it or not.)

As part of this yearly tradition, what seems to follow my bank info being compromised is some sort of huge personal change in my life. The first time, I quit smoking. (Hey, I lasted two years. That's more than a lot of people.) The second time, I got the job at Techni-Lux and left the world of part-time retail far behind me. This time? That remains to be seen.

I am, however, hopeful for the best.

Speaking of funny dreams (yeah, I know, I wasn't...)

Last night I dreamed I was sort of dating Robin Williams. Now, I don't know how this actually came about, as from what I remember it was just fact at that point, but it was rather amusing to have my family know, and to call him by his first name and whatnot. There was some issue with me about making sure that he knew that I was interested in him still (for some reason. I think I was dating other people at the same time?), and that I wanted to make time for him. But my efforts were all in vain, for the next night I discovered he blew me off for two blonde bimbos.

I was a little hurt.

I ended up yelling at the talking statue of Bush (W., not H.W.) that stood in the security area (don't ask), so when my unknown friend showed up to hang out, we had to sneak through other floors of the building. (Dream logic is fun!)

So, how was your day?

"T" is for Therapy

2005-06-03T12:30:00.000-05:00

That's right boys and girls, I'm gonna go try to get my head shrunk yet again. Maybe something will stick this time?

I dunno, I've been feeling pretty cruddy lately (except for vacation time with the boy). It's started to bounce around in my head that maybe I need actual professional help. Not like I haven't had it before, but this time I'm going to an actual "psychologist" instead of just a "therapist." (No, no psychiatrist. Hopefully I won't need one of those.)

I know all about the difference. I researched it on Google yesterday. This makes me a smart person.

Perhaps I'll update with "progress" from time to time, but for the moment, laugh at this person's silly typo!

Nobody thought my Photoshopping was funny!?

2005-06-01T12:30:00.000-05:00

*pouts*

And I know that six of you are now zombies. But no one posted a comment about it. Even the undead can post a comment on a blog!

Aaaaand I know that the majority of you seem to be using Internet Exploder instead of Firefox.

What is up with you people???? (After all, tabbed browsing is most definitely where it's at.)

Ah, no, I'm not all that upset honestly. But I am terribly disappointed. I thought "surely, surely someone will make a comment about my funny things while I am away for the weekend." But noooo. Y'all have to be all quiet and stuff. I see how it is...

Speaking of the weekend, yay I got to see my boy! *claps hands repeatedly* Hee hee, that was the funnest most bestest weekend I've had in a long time, and very close to the "romantic getaway of my dreams." We played Katamari Damacy and Midnight Club 3, and went to a really (really) nice sushi restaurant (you can tell how good the sushi joint is by the quality of their miso, and OMG it was good), and met up with several friends from the area that I thought I'd never get to see again, and watched a few movies. Upon the discovery that I had never seen Predator, it was immediately decided by all that this anomaly must be remedied. (Now I too wish to be a sexual Tyrannosaurus...) And then I demanded to see Secratary and Unleashed (both quite awesome in their own way. Ass thumpings all around actually.). We also tried to catch what's-his-face's Metropolis (the creator of Astro-Boy, not Fritz Lang, although the anime was inspired by stills from the movie), but unfortunately it ran longer than the dvr's allotted recording time, so it cut out just when things were getting really really good (dammit).

We also got in lots of quality touchy-feely time, something I am sorely lacking at home. I could say it's amazing how important touch is to me, but I don't find it amazing, just profound. Not even sex, just touching someone. Basic human contact. (Well, yes, sex is profoundly important too...) I recall the more affectionate days of my youth, and sometimes I wonder what happened.

But any way, I had a really wonderful time. The boy is quite a pleasure to spend time with, physical contact or no, and adorably geeky. (I think I helped convince him to spend a theoretically ungodly sum on a really wicked sick new video card.) He also has a taste for hip hop, and happily gave me a collection of NWA tracks to listen to, which I did on the flight back.

Appropriately enough, it rained when I left, and the vocalizations of Ice Cube, Dr. Dre, and Easy E carried me home, where I encountered a tremendous thunderstorm in the sky. Huge billowing clouds barely visible save for the little dances of lighting between them.

My flight was delayed about 20 minutes as a result.

And, as always, the humidity was there to greet me as I stepped off the plane. I'm not sure if "home" is what I think when I breathe it in, but it's familiar, and I find that I've usually missed it while I was gone.

2005-05-25T19:49:00.000-05:00

So, a little while back we sold some lights to Yakov Smirnoff in Branson, MO to light the outside of his theater. They were such a hit that apparently everyone in Branson wanted them. Which gave me this awesome idea...

2005-05-25T19:48:00.000-05:00

Hee hee.

My backpack's got jets!

2005-05-25T12:30:00.000-05:00

How cool am I? I'm Boba Fett cool, that's how cool I am. Nevermind where I got this information, I just know it's true. (Okay okay, my super special boy told me. Tee hee. I love geeky compliments.)

Speaking of geeky, I got to see Revenge of the Sith this weekend. Not bad, if you look past the wooden performances from most of the actors. My brother and I looked at each other after it was all over and agreed that Lucas really just can't direct people. What's the first rule of storytelling? Show people, don't just tell them, dammit!

But oh well.

In other news, I've really been wanting to make my own music again lately. I felt inspired after I rediscovered the song I had written with a friend a few years ago... All I need now is a keyboard, a microphone, and a music studio in my apartment. But I am promised a copy of Fruity Loops, which will have to suffice for the moment...

Now the only thing I need to make my life complete is a time machine to make it Friday, so that I might be speeding on an airplane to my lover's waiting arms. (Better yet, skip the plane trip and just fast forward to the lover's arms part...)

Dear Goddess please hear my prayer...

2005-05-19T12:30:00.000-05:00

I found this out from Drew, and all I ask of you now is... Please please please make this movie not suck.

Every so often somebody creates something amazingly beautiful and wonderful and special that will last forever and ever and ever in the hearts and minds of all it has touched. I've seen the documentary, the amount of love and creativity that went into the original Dark Crystal movie is amazing. Talk about a meeting of minds.

And now... They want to make a sequel now!? I am relieved that a lot of the original people who worked on it are being brought back on board, but I wonder how much time and age have changed things? (And yet part of me is chiding myself for my lack of faith in Brian Froud. Tsk tsk.) Not only that, the marketingspeak that I read in the little press release is disturbing to me. "...they want to work to bring back many of their existing productions and franchises." What!? That's all this was to them, a product? A franchise? To make a cartoon series and a videogame out of??

No no no no. This doesn't add up at all.

To me, The Dark Crystal has always been one of those rare treasures of sheer artistry, done for it's own sake. But as I write this I am suddenly remembering all of the marketing they did and products they made for the 1982 release. Just look on eBay, it's all there. (And Drew owns most of it. I've seen his collection, it's impressive.) So I suppose this was really part of their initial intention all along. *sigh*

Is there not one pure, beautiful, untouched thing in this world? I suppose not. I often find myself thinking of ways to market and sell some of my own existing ideas. The Force may be strong within me, but the Dark Side is oh so tempting. How can I hold others to standards I can barely keep myself? And we all hopefully know now that there is no shame in an artist wanting to make a living with their talents. But still...

The only peaceful thought I have of this is that actually, behind all the marketing glitz and sales promotions, the good things really do shine through on their own. And I can see it, and other people can see it. So I guess it's really all okay.

Exit music: "Float On" - Modest Mouse

Fun Linkage

2005-05-18T12:15:00.000-05:00

Sometimes Blogger gets distracting. They have this little "blogs of note" list in the dashboard, and every now and again I can't help clicking on some of them. They have the some of the coolest names and themes! So for all you non-Blogger users (and the ones who just don't pay attention), here are some distractions...

The Four Ninja Foodgroups (Eggroll, Bagel, Cookie, Vengeance)

Comments: Kinda interesting to read, but really just kinda odd. It took me a minute to realize that there are four distinct individuals posting, and the marsupial definitely threw me. I am also amused that there is a 25-year-old Libran Goat named Muffin posting, whose curtains apparently do not match his drapes. Hmm...

The Darth Side (does this need an explanation?)

Comments: I only read the first (last?) post, but it is very very well written, and suddenly I am quite excited to attempt to go see Episode III tomorrow...

Gmail is pretty distracting too. At the top of my inbox I get little links to news items, and every so often it's news of the weird:

I wanna be the Piano Man...

Tattooing is now mainstream? How ironic.

Random stuff:

My favorite Hedonism Bot quote: "An Opera about a man in love with a woman? How delicious!" No, I don't know if I'm quoting it accurately, but the episode is called "The Devil's Hands are Idle Playthings."

"I apologize for nothing!" - Hedonism Bot (again) Yeah, you kinda had to be there for that one...

Just for the record

2005-05-17T19:07:00.000-05:00

I still have my Kerry '04 bumper sticker on my car. And my Howard Dean sticker too.

I only had the Kerry sticker leading up to the election, but someone decided they knew better than me about a week afterwards and peeled it off, leaving it in a crumpled heap by my back tire. What else could I do but put another one right back up? My then boyfriend had tons of extras, plus a few leftover Dean stickers. So up they both went.

And up they will stay until I see the last "W" sticker peeled off of the SUV's, minivans, and other vehicles about town.

I'm just sayin...

Just another Manic Monday...

2005-05-16T12:27:00.000-05:00

But I'm alright. No really!

I actually got some much needed rest this weekend (sleep doesn't help when there are things going on in the back of your head), and as a result I put together my aparmtent a little more. Hooray! (You still can only sit on about half of the couch, but who will really use the other half anyway?)

Of course, today I have to make it through all of work without a single cigarette (I cheated on Friday and snuck out at lunch). I mean it, no smoking at work, or in my car (except for a very limited amount on the commute to and from). If I can achieve that goal then I will feel that I have made good progress for the time being.

Of course, for some reason, whenever I am making a point not to smoke, and then I have food, I end up feeling really fat. Which causes me to panic, and sometimes this panic leads to even more food consumption. This could seriously put a dent in my zen-like outlook on things. Hmm...

And my mother emailed me today. Goddess love her, (because I do) but I can always tell when she's trying to find out things I don't want to tell her. Sometimes it's a very uncomfortable feeling, like she's pushing me, or digging into me or something. I don't think she realizes it feels quite like that to me, but when I'm in a mood to be left alone it's just plain old annoying.

And I've really been in a mood to be left alone lately.

"Tell me a story about your new boy," she says, which instantly causes my mind to draw a blank. A story? Like what kind? Does it have to involve me, or can it just be something he's told me? I don't know, the possibilities are infinite and unreachable at the same time. Plus there are just things that I don't think my mother really wants me to share, as they'd definitely be going into TMI territory. (Do you really want to know what kinds of kinky things your daughter is doing?)

But it's more than just keeping mum about the boy. Lots of things are going on that I just don't want to say. Sometimes things are just better left in my head, divulged only to the most carefully selected confidantes. Mostly because knowledge is power, and when other people know what you know, they have power over you.

...Okay, that sounds really cryptic. But it's true to an extent. Do you know how many times I've revealed some flight of fancy in my head, only to have it be accidentally crushed underfoot by an obtuse mind? Plus there's the nagging thought that, although my friends seem to love me dearly, they think I'm quite the flake. There's no need to reinforce that, is there?

*sigh* I know, excuses excuses. And my mom doesn't think I'm a flake. (And I know my friends don't care.) But come on! She's my mom! She's the only woman in the world who can command me to do something, and half the time I actually do it. (The other half of the time I rebel against it, but definitely feel guilty for doing so.) Despite what she says, that yes I am a grown woman with my own life, I still feel this pull to seek out her approval sometimes. I don't think this is unique to me, but it's frustrating as hell.

Which is why I just want to be left alone.

But I love her, and she deserves to hear something directly from me about my life rather than secondhand. So what will I tell her about my boy? *dreamy sigh* He does have the most beautiful eyes...

Okay okay! Baby steps!

2005-05-13T12:30:00.000-05:00

So, um, yeah. I was a little overambitious in announcing my plans to quit smoking. I met up with a smoker friend to go see Kung Fu Hustle (such an awesome flick. Go see it!), and I so caved.

He was very kind and bummed me smokes throughout the evening, and then I decided to make my goal of the moment be to not smoke during the day (at work). Which does bug me, because I start out innocent enough with a cigarette here, and then another there, and then before I know it I'm wanting smoke breaks every hour or something. Not very conducive to a productive workplace environment. I mean, I don't care, because I am slack, but I think my employers would care. Plus, the accounting girl commented yesterday on it already. "Are you stressing? You've been smoking a lot more lately."

Of course, I have been stressing, but I didn't really feel like going into it. Fortunately I was able to bring up the "I'm trying to quit" line of dialogue, so it was all good. And I really do intend on quitting in the long run. I just think it'll work better if I take it a little bit at a time.

Oh, and thanks go out, by the way, to all the wonderful boys who have been telling me that I didn't really need to lose the weight/have always been attractive. You are all doing wonders for my self esteem. If only clothing stores would be so accomodating...

Speaking of weight loss, my ex is completely smitten with a new girl. He's very cute about it, and I'm really hoping that things work out. From what he says it sounds like she's exactly his type.

The flip side of this is that she seems to be all of the things that he wanted from me that I never was. This makes me sad, and I can't quite put my finger on why yet, or what I can do about it. I guess it's just the consequence of spending so long with someone. Of course, it hasn't exactly made him feel entirely warm and fuzzy that I have a new boy myself (that I get to go visit for Memorial Day weekend. Yay!).

All things heal with time I suppose. At least I'm not so angry and bitter about it anymore. We even had a nice talk the other day, and seemed to say some things to each other that needed to be said, including apologies on my part. (Have I mentioned this already?) I feel a lot better about talking to him now too, which is good. Progress...

...Goddess I want a cigarette.

So yeah, like, no big hurrahs or anything...

2005-05-12T12:18:00.000-05:00

...but I'm going to try to quit smoking again.

Why? Oh, I'm not sure exactly. Why not? Originally I was going to start out this post with some humorous, witty dialogue such as:

So I said to myself, "Self" I said "you sure seem to be spending a lot of money on cigarettes."

"Why yes, yes I do," I replied back.

I continued on. "Perhaps this isn't the wisest course of action, seeing as there are all other sorts of wonderful things you can get and do with that money."

I pondered it for a moment. "Well yes, I suppose that's true..."

And the conversation could go on and on ad nauseum if I wanted it to. But I don't really want it to. And the money isn't really the reason either. It's more of a side-effect. No, really I think it's just a really random, silly thing for me to do. Why? Seriously, why not? Why not start? Why not stop? Ideally I'd like to be a social smoker, causally gesturing with lit cigarettes in clubs, bars, and coffeehouses, taking on this aspect to my personality only when I feel like it. (And there is also the fact that my new boy is quite handy with a zippo, a talent that I'd hate to squander so soon.)

But for now, for today, no smoking. Just the Nicorette gum. It's really not so bad, because you're not supposed to really chew it (so you don't taste it all that much, but the taste isn't that nasty to begin with IMO), and it does help for a little while. Thanks again to my ex, who not only left behind that first pack that helped get me back in the habit, but who also left behind the means to quit in the form of the Nicorette gum he barely used. (Why he felt the need to try to be so cold turkey about it I'll never know. Did he think he would appear weak if he used such a crutch? Of course he started popping the Wellbutrin as soon as he could... Ah, memories...)

And of course, all sorts of thoughts and fears are running through my head, but a lot of it is "what if I just substitute junk food for smoking again?" I don't really want to do that. It doesn't matter whether it's chemical or mental or what have you, addictions are only a means of hiding yourself from the world (hell, it I'm sure you could even be addicted to ikebana if you wanted to be). You really have to do some self analysis to notice this, because the shifts are subtle at first, so you don't think about it until you are perhaps in the thick of your new self and you don't even know how you got there. But I've definitely noticed the difference.

Which leads me to ask myself (and I may have posed this question to the audience before) if, for most of my life, behind the t.v. watching, the book reading, the ice-cream eating, the smoking, I was ever even really "there" at all?

Poking my nose out of my hidey-hole

2005-05-10T12:15:00.000-05:00

I sometimes wonder how many people are actually checking my blog every day. Probably not many. But for those of you who do miss a daily posting from me, I apologize. My attentions have been focused elsewhere at the moment, and although I have been making a point of being more openly Pagan, there are some things it's still best not to talk about.

Anywho, visiting my grandparents was quite civil, especially since I ignored the little gibes my grandma threw out every now and again. She gave me some jewelry, and although I really don't wear gold (and I get the feeling that even if I told her this she would still think gold is the better metal), I thought it was sweet. She does think of me, and she does care in her way. Perhaps that's enough for now.

I even got to bum around my childhood neighborhood with my brother and his girlfriend. We scoped out our old street, drove past several former schools, took a long walk on the beach of our youth, and pretty much just had a good time. So much has changed, and yet so much has remained the same. It was the experience I had wanted to have with my ex, but he was never inclined to do so, he always just wanted to go back home. Just another thing to be sad about for a spell I suppose.

And, of course, now that my finances are getting back into shape, I had to make my regular pilgrimage to Lush. I have become an ideal marketing statistic, and I couldn't be happier. I love this company, both because their products are simply amazing and because of the way they sell me things. Case in point, I make a bee line for my favorite conditioner, and one of the girls working there walks up to me and starts talking to me about how awesome it is as she uses it herself, and then starts telling me about how awesome the shampoo she uses is.

That's the thing, all of these girls use and love the products they sell. But not every single product, and not always the most expensive products either. They each have their own honest opinions, based on honest experiences, and all they have to do is share them with you. How easy of a sales position is that? For a brief moment, you're not being sold on a product, you're making a connection with a friendly person of similar interests. The marketing strategy practically writes itself. Would that all retail experiences could be so honest and trustworthy. (And yes, I'll bet these girls get commissions and are actually very good at what they do. I am not that naive, but I do love being sold to when I want to be.)

So I spent more money than I planned, but oh my hair smells so good!

Tomorrow I go to Ormond Beach...

2005-05-06T12:25:00.000-05:00

It's not exactly over the river and through the woods, but yes, I go to my Grandma's house tomorrow for Mother's Day. This should be interesting.

Yes, I know it's "interesting", but how can I put it in perspective for those who might not know? When my father (these are his parents we will be seeing) asked my brother and I to join them all, he used the incentive of "it's a free meal" to try to persuade us. That's how "interesting" things can get.

Not that I don't love my grandparents on some level, but I prefer that level to be at a somewhat safe distance. Our ability to communicate and understand each other is such a strained thing. Past any anger I may hold towards them, mostly they just make me sad. They isolate themselves from the rest of the world, and from us. My father cares for them both deeply, and wants to help them (their health is not what it used to be), but still they push him away.

What really gets to me is this past Christmas, they went through a lot of trouble to go shopping for gifts, even braving the mall during the holiday season. They meant so well, but so many of their gifts were off center. My mother (and my ex, has he was there) says that it really is the thought that counted, and I know this somehow. I had thought perhaps my guilt and sadness stemmed from selfishness, but upon reflection it's really that their giving makes the lack of relationship with them all the more poignant to me. I don't need things from them. I never wanted things, just them. And to know that we're not close, and probably never will be, breaks my heart.

And then there's the fact that they listen to Rush Limbaugh religiously... *sigh* At least my wonderfully, antagonistically liberal ex-boyfriend won't be there to incite an argument again, for the sake of everyone else but me. (Sorry honey, but I think that was one of the more amusing Thanksgivings I've spent with them. I really appreciated it, and I always will.)

In the immortal words of Kurt Vonnegut: "So it goes."

A daring proposal

2005-05-03T12:13:00.000-05:00

I was looking at jewelry online the other day, as I am wont to do (I do so have a sweet tooth for pretty things), and randomly decided to look at diamonds. (Blue Nile makes them look absolutely gorgeous. Mad props to them on their creative and copy, from a purely professional standpoint.) After filtering out all of the "Every woman needs a diamond" crap to get to the sparklies, I had a bold idea.

Most jewelry companies' bread and butter is engagement and wedding rings. People who normally can't afford to spend ridiculous amounts of money, or just need an excuse to do so, will buy a fancy engagement ring for their sweetheart. Not only this, but a lot more of a jewelry store's marketing message is simply that "a diamond is the ultimate gift for a lady." How else could a man be more macho than by going out and plunking down his hard earned wages on a special trinket for his beloved? You almost never see women being targeted to buy expensive jewelry for themselves. They're mostly targeted to think that this is something they really want, and that their man should buy it for them. The perfect romantic gift.

So what if all of the women of the world said "fuck you" to conventional thought and went out and bought their own diamond? Or one even better, what if every woman in the world bought herself an engagement ring, and proclaimed herself betrothed to none but herself? It would be a stunning breakthrough in independent thinking, every woman married to herself.

Unfortunately, it would still put a lot of money into the hands of the master manipulators themselves, perhaps ultimately teaching no one any lessons at all. Oh! But the idea behind it! The statement against social convention!

Perhaps someday I shall.

Being a part of popular culture...

2005-05-02T12:16:00.000-05:00

So yes, every single person I know loves Family Guy, and because of this I have given up ranting about it so. I even went to my brother's apartment to watch the premiere.

Don't get me wrong, some of the jokes are quite funny, the show is well animated and well written, I just have issues with a few things that other people don't really seem to notice or care about.

Anyway, it was a decent episode. Not their best, but a good comeback. And it was very amusing to spot all of the liberal touches in the background. (Brian, the dog, was reading "Dude, Where's My Country?" by Michael Moore, and the family's car had a "Kucinich '04" bumper sticker on it. These are not the trappings of a well balanced Democrat, these are the markings of the way to the left liberals, and it makes me wonder how much of it is them just trying to push the envelope on the most Republican station I know, Fox? Hmm...)

Best joke of the evening IMO was the G.I. Joe moment. There is not a person out there in my generation who will not hear the phrase "Now we know!" and not automatically think/reply in response "And knowing is half the battle!" (See? You were thinking it before you even read that I had typed it. I'll bet you even have the voices singing "G.I. Joooe" in your head right now.)

And of course, discussing this later with my special boy prompted further delving into our respective childhoods, where I discovered some geek cred long dormant. How could I ever forget my youthful days playing games on my dad's Amiga (Commodore 64) playing such awesome games as Bubble Ghost and Marble Madness? I even beat both of them, and well before the NES versions came out (which, out of some early form of pretention I suppose, I had thought were inferior). How we even got these games I don't know, but I recall so many moments of frustration, anticipation, triumph (oooh, my face would turn as red as that little ghost's when my bubbles popped). Good times, definitely good times.

And somedays I wish I could still group all of those little lemmings into one spot and blow them to smithereens. Hey, maybe I still can...

Things have been happening...

2005-04-29T12:10:00.000-05:00

I just haven't really felt like writing about them.

On Wednesday I went over to my brother's house, and helped bake a cheesecake for my mother's surprise birthday party. Everything went great until we put on an episode of Law & Order, at which point my energy level dropped at I passed out on the couch. Television will do that to me...

The cheesecake turned out brilliantly, and I did have a tiny piece of it, to sample my work. Hopefully I won't end up feeling too sick, but Gods it was worth it. Mmmm....

Mom's surprise party was last night, and we almost pulled it off completely. Had my brother not shown up too early and stumbled a bit when he encountered my mother still home (he made a nice recovery though), and had I actually made it to their house before my parents showed back up the surprise would have been completely perfect. (I had to recover the lobsters hidden in my fridge, and then book it across town during rush hour. Not an easy feat.) As it was, my mother was still happily surprised, we feasted on lobster, filet mignon, and cheesecake, and we all just enjoyed each others' company. Something we do rather well.

Of course, my brother's girlfriend was there, and his best friend from forever ago who is part of the family and calls me "sis." And of course I got grilled about my new boy. I really don't come up with answers well when put on the spot, but I did my best to offer up a few bits of information.

The funny thing to me was that everyone kept commenting on how thin I have become. "You're so skinny!" They all said. Am I? Has it been that long since I've seen anyone? Or perhaps it was just that I was wearing clothes that were my proper size and not too large for me. I'm not sure, but it was slightly disconcerting. My body image is such that I don't often know how I really look to others, and I will think myself one way when I am actually another.

Perhaps it's only bothersome because people don't make a big fuss when you've gained weight.

How many U-Turns does it take?

2005-04-27T12:21:00.000-05:00

Honestly, I ask you!

You never realize how important a road is to traffic flow until they shut it down for repair. A simple trip to the gas station over lunch turns into a nightmare of maneuvering around semi-trucks, delivery vans, and souped-up racers (those impatient bastards).

Long, endless lines of automotive vehicles stretching down the one lane of the two-lane road that you need to be on. It's enough to make a girl want to walk.

Not that walking is an option in Florida, what with the lack of trees and the suburban sprawl stretching out for miles on end.

-End rant

Back In Black

2005-04-25T12:30:00.000-05:00

Hee hee. My boy made the comment this weekend that I was a little AC/DC, and once I got it I found it rather amusing. It really fit as I was clomping through the Dulles airport to go home in my boots and my "Classic Rose" era Long Black Skirttm (which I had brought with me for shits and giggles). I smiled as my boots clicked on the tile floor and heavy black fabric swirled around my ankles, and definitely thought "I'm back." I felt like I was the old Rose again, only better, the way I always wanted to be.

My weekend away went quite swimmingly, and a good time was had by all. It's interesting switching over to a nocturnal schedule. There's the same amount of daylight upon waking, only it goes away instead of increases. And then there's the odd experience of meeting up with people for a while only to have them say "let's call it a night" when your own night is just beginning. But I fared pretty well. Not looking at the clock too much helped. And not being ready to pass out when I got home was a great boon. (Yeah, you try making it through baggage claim at 11:30pm and getting home around 1am on a diurnal schedule and see how you feel.)

I did have such a sense of deja vu, though. It seemed like everyone I met I had met before, and I was retreading familiar ground, only with someone new. It was slightly disorienting perhaps, but only if I stopped to think hard on it.

Seeing my ex again was interesting. (I was returning to him things he forgot at the apartment.) He's still the same boy I knew, both in good and bad ways, and I got him to do his wicked Smeagol/Gollum impression for everyone we were out with. (He's frighteningly good at it.) Things got tense only for a moment, and I am certain that I did something accidentally to provoke it, but I didn't really think about it until later. At any rate, he seems to be moving on with his life and I am happy to see that.

*sighs* And now I am back home to my cats, my job, and my messy apartment.

Faster, stronger, more organized

2005-04-21T11:50:00.000-05:00

My apartment is taking shape rather nicely. Things are being put away, boxes are being unpacked and broken down. I can even sit on about half of my couch now! Hooray!

It seems to be the time for Libran friends to come calling. My friend in Texas called out of the blue the other night (and it was quite lovely to hear from her), and then another friend of mine called last night. It seems we are all in places of thoughtfulness and transition. Interesting...

And in other news, Drew looks silly.

"Habeus Papum" they say...

2005-04-20T11:51:00.000-05:00

The new pope is from Germany? Uh oh.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/europe/4463519.stm

Yes, in the eternal words of Triumph "I keed!" But do I really? Prejudice compels my instincts to tell me that a German pope does not bode well for us, and I know that this may be folly on my part. However, hearing that he is quite conservative on the same old issues that have plagued the Catholic church for decades, and the suggestion that this is what helped get him elected cause me sincere worry.

And yet, when I think on it, I know that the Catholic church's power is waning. If they continue to cling to their outdated traditions, they will continue to lose followers to newer, prettier, shinier versions of Christianity that promise easy salvation. What worked to control the masses in the 11th century may not necessarily work today.

Jewish culture understsood this, and despite the opinions of some of the Orthodox and Hasidics, there is room for many different ways to celebrate Jewish faith and culture. You have to adapt if you want to survive. Especially now, in this rapidly-paced age of Aquarius. (There has been some debate and speculation as to whether we actually are in the Age of Aquarius, but I say how could we not be? Computers are a tool of the water bearer, connecting the world at large through a fine, rapidly growing and changing network akin to our own nervous systems. Aquarius and Uranus, its ruling planet, influence technology. I highly doubt the internet would have been born in Pisces.)

Still, the pseudo-death throes of Catholicism may yet send spasms of strife throughout the world. One clings most to life when one is near death. And what of the new converts to a more addictive version of Christianity? (In my reflections that religion, especially Christianity, is yet another addictive "substance" one could compare the Catholic church to cocaine, wheras the megachurch phenomenon would be crack.)

We shall indeed see where this new pope leads his flock...

One of my friends turned into a boy!

2005-04-19T12:02:00.000-05:00

And a rather cute one at that, tee hee.

I am, of course, all smiles and giggles, and my brain keeps coming up with countless unladylike thoughts best not disclosed to the general public. I will say, though, that he is totally my type (geeky and "interesting"), and I get to visit him very soon on a much needed vacation pour moi.

Visit you say? Well, yes, there is the unfortunate side effect of life that he lives several states up the coast from me, but I say "Feh! Minor detail." After all, this is what AIM and "nights & weekends" minutes were made for. (And webcams. Maybe.)

In other news, my parents are being totally cool and buying me tons of meat as a housewarming gift. Yay for not having to stock up on my own groceries! Parents rock. Now all I need is to find someone who will buy me a pair of shoes that fit...

Call me smitten and we'll chalk this up to a good day.

I'm watching you...

2005-04-18T12:14:00.000-05:00

Well, sort of.

Wow, apparently there are, like, five more of you out there than I thought.

Yeah, I went and got a free website stat counter, as my nagging curiosity got the better of me. Hey, it's a little piece of mind. Kind of like my cell phone. I carry it with me so I have undisputed proof that no one has called me.

*sigh* It's been a lonely, but productive weekend. I stayed home and unpacked/rearranged some more. It's starting to look like a person lives in my apartment, rather than uses it for storage space! The highlight of this was finally getting around to doing my little Feng Shui analysis of my apartment. Turns out it's almost perfect! How cool is that? The only area I might want to stay away from that I can't is my bedroom, but other than that everything seems to balance out pretty nicely.

I have also realized how much more time I seem to have when I am not watching television. Now that I'm not glued to a glowing box for hour long chunks of time I find that I am getting more done, and still am able to take little cat naps throughout the day. (There is nothing sweeter on this earth than having a tiny little tabby cat curl up next to you on your bed and rest her precious head on your arm. Nothing.)

Thomas, my other cat, finally escaped for an evening though. He'd been threatening to for a while, and he finally made a break for it today. I had to just let him go off and do his thing. What else was I going to do? He was gone for most of the evening, and came back late last night, howling at the door, wanting my dinner. *sighs and shakes head* What am I gonna do with him?

Voulez vous coucher avec moi ce soir?

2005-04-15T12:18:00.000-05:00

I was looking at a friend of mine's myspace thingie and found a whole bunch of quiz results telling me everything from which "Sex and the City vixen" she is to which Bjork song she is. So I couldn't resist, I just had to find out...

You're Brigitte Bardot!
What Classic Pin-Up Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

Oui oui mon cher! I am obviously quite tickled. I suppose I had better make good on those threats of re-learning French now...

(The link to the quiz seems to be broken now, though. I suppose there are a lot of girls who want to find out whether they're Bettie Page or not...)