Wednesday, August 31, 2005

Are we the last living souls?

We are here to mourn the dearly departed.

The Cuddlefish

Beloved Truck and Gas-sucker and Hill-Hopper



That's right, everyone, the Cuddlefish has...



No, I'm not kidding. The engine exploded.

On my way to classes, too, good thing I didn't die. Heh.

Here are your two quotes for the day:

"Writing is not necessarily something to be ashamed of, but do it privately and wash your hands afterwards."
-Robert Heinlein

"All that is good will be called evil, and all that is evil will be called good."

Tuesday, August 30, 2005

I want to be where soul meets body

Oh my god, I hate homework.

But at the same time I'm thrilled by this "get a move on, go, go, go" attitude.

I was remembering two things today that have really stuck out in my day. They go as thus;

Tia, and how much I dearly, dearly miss her. I was pulling into my driveway today after Algebra and keeping a lookout for my cat and realizing that someone had just rolled on over her and didn't even bother to really see if she was okay. I remembered how she growled at me when I tried to move her away from my pillow and how scared I was because I didn't realize what was happening. And that she and I had just started getting along so well and I loved her so much and she died and I started crying. And yeah, thinking about that and writing about it now has made me cry again. Some sonofabitch just rolled over her and didn't even bother to do shit. The son of a bitch.

The day that I really fell so head over heels for Eddie. I lusted after him since about January 2004-ish when I first met him and filed him in my "hot guys to have lusty fantasies after when I'm doing the nasty" folder. And then I realized that it may spiral into something else when my mother got off the phone with David last summer (2004) and said, "So Dave is bringing Brian and Eddie with him" and I was happy about that, and I couldn't figure out why. But I think the real killer was a day that we spent in the city. We went to the Nelson Atkins Museum of Art, and then wandered down to the Plaza and went into Barnes & Noble and at that point we were on hair-petting terms. We were still "just friends", but GOD damn, I wanted him so bad. But that wasn't it, that really wasn't it. It was wandering towards Dave's cousin Dan's house (close to the Plaza), and not finding him at home and then going up a hill with the books we bought and the bottled juice and sitting there next to each other and eventually his head finding its way into my lap and me just petting his hair.

And then, by god, I looked down at him and we spent the longest time just staring at each other, and I wanted to kiss him and he wanted to kiss me, but we didn't. We didn't do a god damn thing for the entire trip.

But I fell so in love with him at that moment. I had feelings for him for sure, but they didn't solidify until that moment. Didn't turn into something really REAL.

And this is so real...

*le sigh (le good sigh)*

Alright, that tis' all my dearest darling readers of goodness, here are your two quotes for the day:

"There was never a good war or a bad peace."
Benjamin Franklin

"Joy is not in things, it is in us."
-Richard Wagner

Monday, August 29, 2005

Well and far away...

I don't have time for a proper entry, so I'll give you a little narrative piece I wrote in my Comp & Reading class today. It's non-fiction.

The Cowardly Dreamer

Mountain tops are colored like rip orange fruits by the setting sun. The air isn’t that thick, warm feeling that it is back home, back towards the East Coast but short of it—right there in the middle. Home. I want this to be home, I want to hang on a swing strung between two trees with a drink in my hand and a fan in another. I hear and crave the constant opening and closing of a sliding glass door. A blast of cool air conditioning and the sounds of video games and laughter hits me. I want this; I need these arms that are wrapped around me. I need this scent that fills my nose and the mountains in the horizon and the sea salt in the air.

I have dreamed that dream so long. Since almost exactly eleven months ago. But I still wake up in a room decorated by a child that no longer exists. A room that used to contain fire and passion, but now only contains the dull blue glow of someone beaten down and forced into a shell. A woman trapped, a wild animal caged until the spark leaves it eyes and leaves them flat and shiny like buttons. And I am reminded of the words of one of my trusted friends; we as people know more in dreams then in real life.

Sometimes I find ways to absorb myself into nonessential activities; web-surfing, channel-flipping. Everyone should—but don’t seem to—know that if I’ve only picked up one book in a month something is desperately wrong with me. But those people I surround myself with, and the general population, don’t pay attention to these things. We tend to just see what has changed, and now why, and we then tend to overlook someone’s subtle cry for help when they’re choking on reality.

I need those orange colored mountains right now. I need to see them and sense them at my back, so horribly that it is an ache in my chest. I crave so much the salty taste of the ocean on the air. I have sometimes had dreams of this place so vivid that I wake up with the smells, the sounds and the tastes all around me, crowding my stuffy little children’s room with a place I haven’t visited in years.

I turn up my stereo and drown in music, sound and lyrics.

When I surface again, time has passed. Hours and—as I notice a calendar—weeks. It is so very easy to live without living—to see without seeing and… you get the picture. I have lost weeks of my live that I will never remember but I am glad, for surely if I were to actually live them I would go mad.

I realize in these moments when the veil lifts and I become proper again that I am a true coward. If I am to actually escape this hell-hole then I need to just Go, and be damned the consequences. But I am a coward trying to make right decisions that end up making me and my life more miserable. That the only one possibly to be blamed for any and all of this is ME. Me for not leaving when I had all those chances.

I have had impure thoughts this last week. I thought that maybe I could stay until the summer, finish up another semester of college. I thought that this would be the wise and mature thing for me to do.

Bless me father for I have sinned. It has been many years since my last confession and I am long overdue. I confess to being a cowardly dreamer, and I am sorry.


Your two quotes of the day:

"Love is the difficult realization that something other then oneself is real."
Iris Murdoch

"We do not write because we want to, we write because we have to."
W. Somerset Maughan

I don't believe in fairytales

I will eat your brains for nourishment.


AFTER sleepy time.

But you have been warned. O.O

Two quotes for the day:

"You must be the change you wish to see in the world."

"Happiness is when what you do and what you say and what you think are in harmony."

Wednesday, August 24, 2005

There's no hope for you in me.


I feel like preaching the joy of "The Devils Panties", but you can just go check them out here:

No, it's not Satanic Porn.

However, I now feel like the epitome of every college student. Wandering around my house in a bathrobe and sweat pants and jogging shoes with a half-empty mug of cold coffee and makeup from yesterday still on my face. No brushing of the hair, or the teeth, and God Help You if you remark on my hygiene.

And it's only the third day.


I took my algebra class last night and--TWELVE PAGES OF NOTES--so now I have some 70-odd algebra questions due tomorrow, a reading of sixty pages due on monday for art, a general look-around of the blackboard website and see if I can get any advanced homework done for my English class, and then tonight I have my NEW class--Philosophy 100. Which should be FUN.


Next Monday I start work at 9 AM. I'm going to get up at around 6 am so I can take my two classes--English and Art--and get home by around 8 to maybe MAYBE get some homework done and--what was that? Food? What's food?

Besides the box of cheez-its that I have held captive in my Cuddlefish (the monster truck).

I manage to munch on a couple of those between classes to keep up the energy. Hey, maybe I should start carrying sugar tabs around with me and passing them off as X or something. Heh.

Well, they'd probably work just the same with these deprived college students.

Speaking of which, has anyone ever heard of basic black? I had thought there would be more Goths, but I'm pretty funky for the most part. None of them even wear just a black shirt with blue jeans or anything. Or black pants. I went to school with my bondage pants and poet shirt today and everyone was looking at me funny. Well, I enjoyed the attention for the most part, but I don't have that many killer outfits to keep up the act. Damn it.

Then again... winter is coming and then I'll break out those clothes.


I need my big boots back from my dear Jackie. She borrowed them for WichCon (Wichita Anime Convention) and I haven't seen her since. Mar. At least I got to see her outfit.

Oh god...

Okay, okay, that's all you're getting out of me--I AM NOT YOUR SLAVE!!!

Here are your quotes for the day:

"We cannot become what we need to be by remaining what we are."
-Max Depree

"Philosophy are questions that can never be answered and religions are answers that can never be questioned."

Tuesday, August 23, 2005

I see all the young believers

Yay! I have a deviantart gallery! Wooting.

I've had it for a long, long time, but I just couldn't figure out the stupid thing until now.


Go visit it and leave comments because I am kick ass. Yes, I am.

I woke up this morning kind of strangely. I could have sworn someone was screaming in my ear. This place is really getting to me and in a really bad way. Talking to Eddie last night really helped, but... meh, I just want to go to class right now.

Speaking of class, I had a kickass art class. However, it amazed me how many people seemed really dead in the water. I mean... wow. Talk about no class participation. I thought it would have been more interesting. I felt kind of sorry for the insturcter. He seemed kind of anxious that there were no good responces from the general student bod. Except for me, in the back of the class...

But I think I'll do okay in that class. More then okay, I think I'll ace it.

Two hours until my english class and then I have algebra tonight until sometime around ten-ish.

I keep calling the guy with my truck, too. He says he's going to deliver it to my house but said it'd be by noon, so I'm a little antsy. I can't stress enough how much I need to get there... you know.

You know, I did the math, and with all the gas that the truck is sucking up at the current price, we'd be better off to sell the truck, buy a compact car with better mileage and rent a pickup when we needed one. How'a bout that? Considering I'm now going to start taking up about 3 tanks of gas a week--which adds up to about $150. Oh yeah. That's how much.

I really need to talk about this to mom. I CANNOT make enough to support this much gas use. And ten miles to the gallon is ridiculous.

Mer... grumble, grumble, rar.

Alright, that's it. Here's your two quotes for the day:

"Learn from the mistakes of others. You can't live long enough to make them all yourself."

"If you hate someone, you hate something in them that is a part of yourself. What isn't part of us does not disturb us."
-Hermann Hessa

Monday, August 22, 2005

This is necessary

Ho hum.

I just got back last night from a weekend trip to St. Louis with my grand-ma-ma. It was fun except for the part where I have this nasty habit of thinking of nothing but sex and Eddie while I'm driving a car. Which I was. So when my grandmother says, "You've been awful quiet, what are you thinking about?" ... yeah, I can't really say, can I? So let's say that though this weekend was VERY fun (going up in the arch and all that), it got a little tiresome to keep making up things to be thinking about. I usually just stuck to college and my mom.

Speaking of which, I don't know what the hell is going on with those two. I called up Eddie pretty much sobbing on Wednesday night because I figured they were going to split, cause they were both saying that there was going to be a kicking of the butt out of the house, and I didn't know who was doing the kicking and who was going to be the one going. So I was totally freaking out.

Which ended me in a couple-day binge of drinking and smoking some pot and generally passing out on the floor of my friends basement room and waking up with a pillow shoved under my head and a cover thrown over me. My friends are so nice.

But I just seriously wanted to get out of here. I was so close to leaving. SO CLOSE. Like... Topeka close. Or something like that.

But ye gods, if they go at this BULLSHIT again, then I don't know if I'll be able to handle it.

Oh, and I got a job.

But I felt really shitty last night. I called up Eddie and I had just gotten back from St. Louis and I had smoked some of Dave's pot and DAMN, he has some strong stuff. So I was very out of it. I wish I hadn't done that.

I'm calling him back today though, hopefully. We had to cut off the conversation at the half-hour mark because he had to hang with the family. I really want to talk with him. I feel like I really let him down calling him up high as hell. Now I just feel like crap. A big pile of crap.

I was thinking about Roz a lot this weekend. Not like I used to in a, "She may be a threat" kind of way, but a "wonder what she's like" kind of way. I'm always mistaken for Roz when I call up Eddie and I get his siblings or respective parental figures. Eddie says that he doesn't understand why since I don't sound like her (he says).

Yeah, but I "got over" Roz about two weeks ago. I completely flipped out when there were some issues accruing, and I was a little steamy about it for a while. I had to consol myself with my girlfriend for a while, and ask her over and over what she would do if she was faced with a "me or her" situation. I got the results I wanted the first time I asked and I healed slowly. Still, not being able to nuzzle at my girls neck as often as I want has kind of put me in a bad



Le sigh.

yeah, I've actually started carrying condoms around in my purse. Just in case, you know, Eddie materializes or else I find someone utterly screwable.

Or, hey, a girl works too. It's just harder to protect against that sort of thing then it is with men, so I'm more looking around for a male companion at the moment.

Scoff. That reminds me. This weekend I had a waiter at a restaurant totally hitting on me, and he was black and my grandmother said, once he had walked away, "Are you actually OKAY with inter-racial dating?"

I know I shouldn't have been surprised. I know I shouldn’t have been, but I was. "Of course I'm okay with it," I said, "They're just as good"--in the sack--"as the rest of us." Hey, you know, I've seen some FINE specimens. I'm good with everything under the sun.

but then she continued on to ask about Eddie's ethnic background, and when I told her the general bit I know (and it's not that I didn't pay attention, it's that I don't hold these things in my head very well. Hell, I only know that I'm Irish/German... and I don't know what else) about him, she scowled and said that I better not have children with him, because they would be "colored strangely".

Can I say, "FUCK YOU" any louder?

*grumble*. I hate racism. It was one of the 10 things that really got under my skin when I was with grandma. I'm not going to get into the rest of it.

Instead, here are your two quotes for the day:

"Men are not prisoners of fate, only the prisoners of their own minds."
-Franklin D. Roosevelt

"If you don't have the time to read, you don't have the time or the tools to write."
-Stephen King, "On Writing"

Tuesday, August 16, 2005

Sometimes this place gets kind of empty.

Hello everyone. I just spent a glorious twenty-four hours in the company of my friends. Got a little drunk, got a little high, and just had a wonderful time in general. There was some emotional stuff that went down that my friend would NOT be happy about me disclosing, so I won't. Forget I mentioned it.

Oh, and, Hannibal Lecter is teh sexay.

Here's your two quotes for the day:

"There are two kinds of people in this world; people that do what they're told, no matter what's right, and people that do what's right, no matter what they're told."

"Every society needs some evil to make the popular things look glittery good."

Monday, August 15, 2005

If you think growing up is tough, then you're just not grown up enough.

Okay, ladies and gents, this is the first installment in a series of rants/long tyrades on different subjects. I hope to expand next onto religion, gay marriage, sex, drugs, alcohol and other nifty-ness. I'm trying to make these as civilized as possible, but remember, they're titled RANTS first, so they may spiral into a bottomless goo of jibbering and cursing.

You have been warned.

So here you are, the first installment.

Age Discrimination

There have been many times when I’ve thought to myself that the only thing holding me back from taking in my full potential is my age. Sometimes, I feel like I am an older twenty-something person stuffed into a sixteen-year-olds body. Sometimes I feel hopeless in that I will never reach my true age when I can be free. And I’m sometimes scared that even when I reach this age, I will still not be treated with the respect that I deserve.

And then I think—do I really deserve it?

We all do it. We all judge each other on age, even if it is separated by a year or a month or a decade. I know that I have looked at twelve-year-olds and thought, “My god, was I ever that young and that naïve?” And then I remember that that was only four years ago. Only four years. That is not a long time between a here and now, and it seems kind of ridiculous that that time has changed me so much.

And so sometimes I think, if I have changed so much in the last four years, where will the next four years take me? Into an age where I can vote and smoke and sign up for the military and rent porn if I want. Is that going to change me that much or am I going to remain unchanged?

And so I think and I realize that even though sometimes we think of ourselves in an age where we will not grow any more—cannot possibly grow any more for all the growing we have been doing—that we grow the most. Perhaps.

Recently I went onto one of my much-haunted forums and I read a post that inspired me to think about this particular topic. A sixteen-year-old—the same age as I—started to complain on how she makes a dollar less then those working the same job as her, doing the same work as her, and their difference to her is not their experience but their age. She wonders how it can be fair that there can be such a gap between the two years of sixteen and eighteen, and I replied with this:

You bring up many good points and as a sixteen year old, I really sympathize. And I believe that, yes, age discrimination is real and that it can be a major problem. However, I will point out a few things;

While there may be a few prime examples of teenagers that can be competent and mature even for their age, this is not the general standing. No matter how many intelligent friends of your age you surround yourself with, you must realize that we as an age group are NOT smart.

I will also say that though some of us may be intelligent, intelligent people make stupid mistakes. And as younger people with less worldly experience, we are prone to make more mistakes then those twice or three times our age. Certainly.

And yes, it is unfair. Yes, this discrimination can be completely irrational under certain circumstances, but it exists, and we have to learn to be patient. If we do not have the patients to wait until the ages that permit us our freedom, then we are not meant to have it.

I know that I have gone on my rants once in a while about the injustice of it all, and sometimes the feeling of helplessness and hopelessness of a higher standard of living washes over me, but we must learn to overcome these obstacles. Just think, if you are so smart and brilliant now, how wonderful of an adult you will turn out to be. Just be patient, and do not let it consume you. Learn to be at peace with the world as it is.

I don’t know where I got the thought to be so diplomatic to an idea to which I have been subject to many feelings of furry and senseless depression, but I found it. And I wrote that, I wrote that incredibly encouraging piece of a “live and let live” ideal. And after I read it over, I could barely believe that it came out of my own fingertips.

I have growing to do as a sixteen going-on-seventeen year old. I think that I grow in small bursts, in large burst, in a slow pull like a piece of taffy. I think that I can become a greater person by the time of my legal stature, and even though I can and will continue to be prone to fits of impatience to it all, I think that I’ve finally realized that anything worth having does not come easily, and this is definitely a prime example.

Sunday, August 14, 2005

I dont care how you get to me, just get to me.

David is back home and already things are looking a little better. It's nice to be able to talk through problems with someone else that I consider pretty much a parent. Someone that I complain about my mother with that will sympathize, and at the same time will be able to throw some actual sense into the equation. I know that I usually lead myself by my emotions, and he's able to calm that down a bit. It's very nice.

I had a long talk with Eddie last night which was quite lovely. We talked about all sorts of things, namely the relationship thing, and I told him about some of my recent self-quests into my mind and workings of what I think of relationships and love, and how I've been able to see past many of the stereotypes and feelings that I "think I should have" that things like the television and books and people tell me is what I should feel. It's onto a self-discovery of how I feel about relationships and love.

Something to that affect.

But we got off the phone right as David came home with mom and David gave me Eddie's present. Which ended up giving me almost instant inspiration and crazy dreams. It looks almost exactly like that rock I was showing Eddie, my little "soul rock" as I consider it, that the lady gave me in San Francisco. Except that this was much more special, and I ended up rolling it around in my hands and examining every aspect of it and thinking some strange and choppy inspirational lines in my head.

Plus the letter was just sweet as anything, and I ended up reading it a couple times over. It's the first actual letter from a lover I've gotten, so it was very special to me.

When I woke up this morning, early this morning around 6 o' clock, I picked up his gift and held it and went to bed again and ended up falling asleep holding it. Waking up again holding it. Miraculously. Usually I loose even my pillows if I end up clutching them, I'm a very restless sleeper.

David found out about my plans, and he told me he has plans of his own, though I haven't pried yet. Later, when mother isn't hanging all over him--which is already going away--we'll have a talk.

I think that's it.

Your two quotes for the day:

"Laughter gives us distance. It allows us to step back from an event, deal with it, and then walk away."
-Bob Newhart

"A good scare is worth more to a man then good advice."

Saturday, August 13, 2005

Happy Birthday, Eddie!

Yay... Eddie is fifteen today! Woot! Goodness and celebritory digital birthday cake to you, sweetheart!

That's really been all that's been all on my mind recently. And for a usual-occasion on a very special occasion, the two quotes of the day:

"A positive attitude may not solve all your problems, but it'll annoy enough people to make it worth the effort."
-Herm Albright

"Anger makes you smaller while forgiveness forces you to grow beyond what you were."
-Cherie Carter-Scott

Love you, baby, have a very happy birthday. *kissess*

Thursday, August 11, 2005

I know the pieces fit...

Alright, everyone, I completley forgot some totally KICKASS news (I have even more kickass news besides this but I'm not talking about it cause that wouldn't be smart)!!! I GOT MY CUDDLEFISH BACK!!!


So here are your before/after pictures:

Before (after I crashed the cuddlefish):

After (when I got it back yesterday) :

And as you can see, I already added a "Les Claypool for President" bumper sticker and--you probably can't see them, but they're there--two window stickers for "Tool" and "A Perfect Circle".

Personality Profile.

I did a personality profile of myself on (why, I was bored). Figures that I'm one of the 20% or "one in 5 people" that is not compatible with ANYONE on their site because I'm... too sexual and not religious, I guess. I read a bit into this guys book and he's very religious and all about marriage, marriage, marriage. It's annoying. But I was there just to see what a profile would say about me so here we go:


- You have to be with people. This extends into the need to gain popularity, achieve social recognition and influence those people around you. The "bottom-line" is a strong people orientation.

(I agree with that above on a certain level, except that it sounded like I was being very dependent and manipulative. And I'm not. rar.)

- You have a strong sense of humor. You usually know when to lighten a difficult situation, amuse and entertain people.

- You have a strong feeling of optimism, considered favorably by most people around you. Your perception is that the bottle is half-full rather than half-empty.


- You show sympathy to the feelings and needs of others. Your natural empathy style may draw others to you.

- You can generate enthusiasm in yourself and in other people. Your enthusiasm, often contagious, involves many people in a social activity who might not ordinarily become involved.

- You are a natural communicator. You love to talk, offer jokes and make sure that everyone is having a good time. This trait is especially evident at functions and outings.

- You have a natural, outgoing style that some have labeled as the "natural salesperson." You are generally likable, talkative and socially assertive. Your primary intent is convincing or persuading people.

- One of your great strengths is your ability to communicate and talk readily. Since all strengths may be overused at times, you may sometimes talk too much.

Improving Communication:

- Take time during explanations.

- Plan sufficient time to talk and listen.

- Be stimulating, fun-loving, and fast-moving.

- Be prepared to listen to many stories.

- Support ideas for change with facts, figures and logic.

- Leave plenty of time for socializing and relating.

- Plan interactions which support dreams and goals.

- Be sincere and use a tone of voice that shows sincerity.

- Take time to be certain that you reach an agreement.

- Share specific ideas to carry out an action.

- Keep the conversation at the discussion level, rather than confrontation.


- You are skilled at finding "win-win" solutions when conflicts arise.

- You are usually enthusiastic about activities and planning.

- You are very respectful of the needs and wants of other people.

- You tend to bring feelings of security and stability to a relationship.

- You are excellent at listening to your partner.

- You tend to enjoy life and share that enjoyment with others.

- You have an excellent sense of humor and tend to see humor in events spontaneously.

- You are generally good at cooling down tense situations in a relationship.

- You are optimistic and tend to make others feel good about themselves.

- You like to gather facts and think things over before offering a strong opinion.


- Sound relationships which form naturally, and are not contriving or scheming.

- Protection or insulation from aggression or confrontation.

- A support system to help you get things done.

- Acceptance in a variety of groups.

- Peace and harmony.

- An environment free from conflict or hostility.

- Activities involving contact with many people.

- Partners who practice listening and participation.

- Equal relations with others.

Meh. Well that was alright, but it's interesting to think what "others" (if some computer thing can be defined as an other) think of me.

And while I'm at it, here's your two quotes for the day:

"Don't walk behind me, I may not lead. Don't walk in front of me, I may not follow. Just walk beside me, and be my friend."
-Albert Camus

"Only enemies speak the truth. Friends and lovers lie endlessly, caught in the web of duty."
-Roland, the last Gunslinger. Stephen King

Wednesday, August 10, 2005

Be my reminder that I am not alone in this body.

Well, things have been going. Not necessarily well and not necessarily horrid. I've filled out some applications for jobs, I went to an interview yesterday at the CVS Pharmacy. The lady likes me, but she's scared of too many restrictions if she hires a sixteen year old, so she said she would call me back. I'm not really holding my breath, but it was still a very good interview.

Maybe one of the other places will call me back. Who knows? I've filled out a lot of those "80 Questions" survey things. Like, "Is it OK for a good employee to steal a few dollars from the company once in a while?"

I hate those questions. They're so degrading.

And since there has been nothing more of significance in my life that I can think of, I'll just give you the two quotes of the day:

"It is our choices that show what we truly are far more then our abilities."
-J.K. Rowling

"The greatest mistake you can make in life is to be continually fearing you will make one."
-Elbert Hubbard

Monday, August 08, 2005

You won't fool the children of the revolution.

So it looks like mom is planning an entire home makeover. Not only have we painted the entire kitchen and most of the cabinets (there's still some 16 doors left over to paint and install), but we're planning on re-tiling it so that it's not this ugly county laminated crap and something more "red" apparently. Then there's the living room which I've said we've needed to paint for the last couple of months and only when her mother chimed in did she actually consider. So that'll be painted. And then there's the carpet. Oh ho... the carpet.

Mother decided to rip up the carpet. Yes, she did.

Well, it was the cheapest, ugliest carpet (apparently, these are moms words) that God ever made, but still... now we have bare wood on the ground. And not the nice kind of wood, either. The kind where you can see the spit stains from the tobacco-chewing construction workers that built our house.

Apparently we're going to paint the floor. Or something. I'm not sure. She's making all the big decisions now.

Which makes me wonder... if I pulled up the carpet in my room, and painted the floor the same red we're using on the cabinets, I could buy some stamps of Japanese or Chinese symbols and go about stamping a border or lines (like a hardwood floor) in yellow. I think that'd look pretty damn spiffy.

But I'll have to pass it by mom. She's the "ultimate god" around here.

And hey, if my room goes under construction again maybe I can paint that bloody ceiling. I hate white things. It needs to be a very, very light yellow so it's not always glaring at me. That and I need to make better curtains then the ones I have now. And a better curtain rod.

Actually, that's a pretty interesting project. I'm going to use a Chinese satin pattern that I found at Hancock Fabrics and sew it onto the back of two of the red velvet curtain panels. I'll then add some bullion to it--yellow probably--so that my curtains are reversible. The satin pattern for fall and winter and the red for summer and spring. I know it should be reversed (the satin pattern is lighter), but... light in winter and dark in summer suites me.

So I need to rip the seems of the curtains between the two holes it has for the curtain rods and then reinforce it closer to the top. I bought those things at Wal-Mart (for a bloody $25 a panel) and they really like this style where you have two holes for the rod to go through and you use the bottom one so that there's a bit of "fringe" hanging off the top. I think it looks tacky, but I can work with it. I need to make a cornice board for above my window and then I think everything will be peachy.

With the leftover panel I plan to make more pillows.

Oh, and I think I'm finally going to get a new fan from my grandmother for my birthday. One that matches my room. I had the choice to go without a fan blade, but for certain reasons I chose not to.

Alright, so those are the current projects. I'm going to have to use our U-HAUL thing to get some of my furniture out of my room (a lot of it is very heavy) and then... man, hundreds of books I'll need to pack up...

But first I need permission.

*crosses fingers*

Come on, I need something to do until school starts.


The Two Quotes of the Day:

"There are some defeats more triumphant than victories."
-Michel de Montaigne

"To be nobody but yourself, in a world that's doing its best night and day to make you everbody else, means to fight the hardest battle anyone can fight, and never stop fighting."
-Edward Estlin Cummings

Sunday, August 07, 2005

Gravity plays favorites

Since I don't have time for anything else (still painting, painting, painting the kitchen), I bring you the two quotes of the day:

"Maybe I want to hear it so badly, that my ears betray my mind in order to secure my heart."
-Margaret Cho

"It is impossible to discourage the real writers--they don't give a damn what you say; they're going to write."
-Sinclair Lewis

Saturday, August 06, 2005

I don't know what came before this precious moment...

Oh holy mother of god, there is a huge hornet outside. Stalking me. I mean, size of my pinky and bigger round. This guy is NOT KIDDING. I looked him up on the internet and he goes by the nick-name "The Cow Killer". Not a nice thing to think about. Not a nice thing.

I'm slightly grounded for disobeying my mother for the first time in a century and staying out an hour later then I should of. Of course she had to spaz the major spaz of all spaz's cause she's like that. She even went out looking for me. I mean, come one. Start thinking I'll end up in a ditch after some four hours, maybe five. But not one. So I'm grounded for a week from being able to go out at my whim. I have to tell her where I'm going, how long I'll be there, who I'll be with and what I'll be doing. Fun.

But at least it's only for a week. Figures it's when I get David's Taurus for a week.

But I was feeling all rebellious and annoyed so I stayed out past my usual time.

Okay, and, since I've got to go, here's your TWO QUOTES FOR THE DAY:

"All paid jobs absorb and degrade the mind."

"You have to know how to accept rejection and reject acceptance."
-Ray Bradbury

Friday, August 05, 2005

God I miss waking up beside you...

Oh, I forgot to add today that as of... today... I will be starting the "Two quote of the day". I always hated it when someone did just ONE quote for the day, I always wanted more.

I figure these out by shuffling my big stack of index cards full of quotes that I write down. I have over 150, so this'll last for a while. I take out the ones I choose for the day, so there will be no repeats.


"The Two Quotes of the Day":

"If you limit your choices only to what seems possible or reasonable, you disconnect yourself from what you truly want... and all that is left is a compromise."
-Robert Fritz

"The weak can never forgive. Forgiveness is the attribute of the strong."

On my back and tumbling...

God damn it, I'm reminded why I like David here so much. He left today for California for a week. But let me explain something...
David's plane leaves at 6:30 a.m. So we have to be up by 3-3:30 in the morning and out the door by 4:00. I then have to drive for an hour after I've just been waken up, drop off David, and then drive another hour home to be there by about 6:00. Unfortunately, I'm a night owl. And we night owls like to sleep in, therefore we like to stay up late. I was up until nearly 1:30 last night and so I only had an hour and a half of sleep. Now I've woken up at around 10:30--so let's say six accumulative hours of sleep when I'm used to more like nine--and start getting dressed and ready to go job hunting. I'm so tired I have to go to waffle house to get myself some coffee cause my mother only keeps decaf in the house. Then I get distracted by a call from my friend who's in emotional duress--something of which I am NOT going to discuss here. So by the time I get home, nearly 2 in the afternoon, I discover my mother has called three times and is very agitated by the fact that she thinks I've slept in until one in the afternoon.

Okay, for one--do NOT expect me to do a favor for you and take your boyfriend to the airport at FOUR IN THE MORNING and NOT expect me to sleep in. Consider it your payment. Grant me this one thing. But since I got up, I'm okay with getting up, since I did it naturally. However, her presuming that I've slept in and then being agitated is completely out of hand.

And then she starts complaining about David being up for an hour before he left this morning. I explained that the dog pulled one of the infa-red collar's loose and it is now lost so she can't go through the dog door and he was looking for it. As soon as she heard this, she started getting angry. "Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't he tell me? I could have been searching, you could have been searching. This is a fucking nightmare! I want you to search, and I want you to actually SEARCH. I don't want you to wander around and just be a puts and not find it. Find it. If you don't I'm going to mad. I'm so mad. Why didn't he tell me?"

You wanna know why he didn't tell you? Because you react like that. You are a bitch. Get over it.

Errr. Now I have stuff to do. I have to clean my bedroom and bathroom (both total disaster zones), clean the kitchen again, vacuum and then sweep the kitchen. I mean, for fucks sake, we are PAINTING. She's stressed about her mother getting here and making a comment about us having a messy house. But we're in the middle of a huge project. When she's in the middle of a SMALL project her house is a mess. And shit, why can't you just point that out to her? That'll shut her up. God, mom hates her mother and I hate mine. How'a bout that? I mean, fuck. If you're not even going to say, "Thanks for getting up so early to take my boyfriend to the airport", then how do you think I'm going to react to this? I'll do the best I can with the things that have highest priority to me, but if I don't get them done then DEAL WITH IT.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

You know, to hell with college right now. I just want out.

Thursday, August 04, 2005

As below so above and beyond I imagine, drawn beyond the lines of reason.

Mother and I are making plans for next weeks farmer's market. We plan to sell a bunch of stuff, namely the iris that we harvested (five to a pack for $10 or 2 packs for $17), the cookies that I make, sugar and chocolate chip for something like $1 each, the water lettuce from our pond (I'm not sure what that'll go for), probably some zucchini nut bread that my mom makes and then perhaps some regular stuff from our garden. Peppers and asparagus and tomatoes I think. we have some other stuff, peas and strawberries and others, but I think the peas and green beans have passed harvest time and the strawberries are always eaten by those bloody rabbits.

My friend Nikki needs to make some extra cash to scrounge up rent so I'm taking her job hunting and she's also coming to the farmers market with us to sell some jewelry that she makes. Mom is also going to sell some of the jewelry that she made way back when I was a little kid. Just some earrings and the like. Nikki's jewelry is mainly Celtic, but a very female-oriented Celtic instead of the usual male-oriented stuff. She really does make beautiful things.

I'm thinking of taking back some of my paintings from the Opera House and bringing them as well. Show off my work and say that I also offer commissioned work. Maybe I'll get some business.

For the most part I'll get 50% of the sales minus the five dollars for a lot and excluding things that are only mom and Nikki--the jewelry and the nut bread for instance. Hey, pocket money. It works.

I've been writing like mad. I've gotten up to 10,500 words and the stories going great. Right now I'm just getting a very basic outline because my mind just wants to go from one event to another really quickly, so later I'll put in "filler". Some more explanation so things don't keep surprising the reader. It's really in the roughest of ways right now, but I'm so in love with this story.

The characters I'm writing about--Dorian Bien and Jennifer Mason (Jennifer being the main and Dorian being the supporting)--are really taking to me. They're brand new characters so I've never worked with them before. It's kind of like a director working with actors and actresses that he's never worked with before. I love them to death and they keep surprising me and it's all very dramatic and interesting. And so fucking cool.

Really, once you sooth my emotional turmoil (which is never good in my whole writing mindset, cause all I'll think about is the current stress/issue) and get me feeling all loved and secure, I'll just start writing like a machine. It's quite fascinating.

So I started out this story smack-dab in the "middle beginning". When I go back for filler I'll add in more background and more detail to the beginning of the story. It just starts out with her leaving a party her friends had gone to and left her at and her being peeved and then--boom. Attacked by a werewolf. How'a bout that? But in the first page and a half it's really not going to do well and looks a little juvenile, so I'll be editing through that and making it a lot smoother.

It's like seeing a diamond before it's cut and polished. It's still beautiful in a lot of ways, that raw beauty, but only after some hard work will it really shine.

But right now I'm just focusing on what comes next. Every time I think I got this whole story figured out, it's like my fingers move of their own accord and I've put in another twist, another hurtle to jump over. I'm not going to give any examples because I've already shared a lot more then I think is necessary, I'll get into it a little more once I'm comfortably in the 20-30 K regions. Though I have a sneaking suspicion that this story is going to out-do "Dark Wings" in coolness.

And dark wings only reached 32 K words, and that was after about four weeks of working on it.

Makes me wonder what this'll get to. I'm pegging it around 50-60 K before the fill in and polish and maybe 65-70 K after it's "finished". And then there's the editing. Blarg. Yeah, lots of work to "look forward to", but right now I'm very happy with this. Extremely happy.

Oh and my mother was very generous and gave me $50 for helping her paint the cabinets. She said she wouldn't have if she had asked me to do it, but since I just volunteered and did it, she was so impressed that she couldn't let it slide without some sort of reward. It was really cool seeing the look on her face when she came home and all the basic cabinetry had a third (final) coat on it and all the doors had a coat of primer. She was so happy.

But yeah, that's been life lately. Have a happy time, everyone, I'm off to go make magic...

Wednesday, August 03, 2005

I stick my hand into his shadow, to pull the pieces from the sand.

This is so totally KICK ASS. I've been using the word way too much lately. But I love it. It fits. Anyway, I've written 6,000 words in my story!!! Holy mother of God! And that's hardly in the last twenty hours. Including the ten hours it usually takes me to sleep, the hour for exercising, the general puttering and television watching and everything else. I've spent a total of three hours on this story and it's just blooming like crazy.

I talked to Jackie yesterday and it was really nice. We went to--you guessed it--Waffle House. Hey, free coffee for an hour and they don't skimp on real creamer and sugar. No packets that I have to deal with. Makes me happy.

Anyway, we talked mainly of our other intimates. She talked about Kevin and I talked about Eddie. I also talked about my family, and how I have been really depressed recently--though I told her that it was mostly last week. How I just want to get the hell out of here. When she heard what Eddie did she... well, she wasn't happy. No one really is, but I told her what I've told all of them and that's that I'm happy with the situation as it stands and since I have no reason to be angry with him right now, neither should they. She wasn't exactly thrilled with the idea but hey, you can lead a horse to water...

That was a very, very good day though. The night before that I had a little get-together with my demi-god and we talked about some things. I got to put some of its advice to use when I was with Jackie and that ended up taking me into a place I was hoping to get to again soon and did. A very fantabulous experience.

If you doubt something too much, you doubt it into nonexistence. Do not doubt what you know, fall into it, hold it, and embrace it. Let it roll into you but do not try and control it, just let it do what it wants to you. But if you doubt that it's there, it will go away.


So we're not outlaws and I don't feel like the dirty mistress anymore. This is a good thing.

Oh, and a jug of mead exploded in the mud room today. Glass and alcohol has gone everywhere and now it smells like some frat boys took over our house for a party. Yech. And guess who gets to clean it up? Yeah, you know.

Tuesday, August 02, 2005

Please keep your hands down and stop raising your voice.

Wow. Totally kickass. I just wrote 2,022 words in my latest story. Like, the FIRST 2,022 words of my story. I know that it's not exactly "up to par", but considering I only spent 45 minutes to an hour on it and it's the most I've written in one sitting in about eleven months, I'm pretty bloody happy with it.

That is so kickASS.

More later. Still painting. Busy, busy, busy...

Monday, August 01, 2005

Broken hearts and broken bones.

My god in heaven... it really smells in here. Primer. Really disgustingly smelly stuff. Bleh.

I'm listening to a combination of The Postal Service, Tool (Aenima, Lateralus and Undertow), A Perfect Circle (Mer De Noms, 13th Step and eMOTIVE), The Dresden Dolls and Primus (Sailing the Seas of Cheese and Tales From the Punchbowl). I think I'm going to add in some Jewel soon. Maybe. Or some David Bowie. Or Placebo...

Good painting music.

Well then, I think I have had a pretty good day. Made a phonecall to Eddie last night since the weekends is usually when I call him. We talked. I cried. I was a bit of a mess. I was doing all this while painting cabinets, too. I'm ridiculous sometimes.

We agreed to a time for him to call me today and we had a talk. It was mostly a "hi, how're you doing? Anything new in the last fourteen hours?" We reminisced a bit, which was nice.

And then the goodness of all great goodness and wonderfulness happened. After I got off the phone with him and was painting for another hour or so, I got another call from Eddie. A very, very happy Eddie and, my god, the news he gave me was just A-fucking-spectacular. It was like all the crap I had been feeling in the last week and some change just got washed away.

Really wonderful, and I can't talk about it too much right now cause I'm still painting. I'll enter another entry sometime in the new future.