tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-147878812024-03-14T03:04:25.221-07:00Making sense of the senseless"We live at a moment when our relationships to each other, and to all other beings with whom we share this planet, are up for grabs." -Carl SaganTeigrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06950936535300713389noreply@blogger.comBlogger107125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14787881.post-65366734506351066462009-07-17T23:36:00.000-07:002009-07-17T23:40:41.906-07:00Death star canteneBlah blah blah.<br /><br />Life is a lot of blah blah blah.<br /><br />You do some blah which will result in blah and get some more blah. Then you blah until you can't stand any more blah. Blah will rain from the sky and blah blah blah. Get a blah and a blah until you can pop out a blah. Live in a blah until you can afford a blah. Then you pay off the blah until you blah, and then you wait with blah until death comes and blah blah blah.<br /><br />I totally mangled the Weeds quote...<br /><br />But I hope the point comes across or something.<br /><br />I'm on twitter now.<br /><br />http://twitter.com/ladyteigra<br /><br />Check it out and crap<br /><br />I just sent a small note to my grandfather who I haven't spoken to in ten years. Just to say hello. Just to make that connection again.<br /><br />My intestines have turned into slush which does nothing for my mood.<br /><br />I. Hate. Everything.<br /><br />Blah. Blah. Blah.Teigrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06950936535300713389noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14787881.post-3239246166422956742009-05-30T01:34:00.001-07:002009-05-30T02:05:40.304-07:00A million voices crying out in the wildernessI've been in a mood recently. Just the past 36 hours kind of recently.<br /><br />I've been feeling that strange, detached, looking at my hand and not really connecting to the idea that it's actually MY hand kind of mood.<br /><br />I just started my second job at the pet shop, and it's going pretty well save for the massive amounts of reading that is required of me. Still, after reading a massive amount of BS at the pet shop all day, I come home to clean and read massive amounts of Terry Moore's "Strangers in Paradise".<br /><br />Which is, by the way, one of the better comic book series that I have read. Previously I have stuck to the bizarre, the supernatural, paranormal and standard super-hero issue comic books. This is the only series that I have read that focuses on a more real-life situation. It's the only comic book I have read beside "Blankets" that is based on real life.<br /><br />Blankets, by the way, is beautiful. Go out and read it. I cried for days.<br /><br />Okay, if you're not in the head space to cry for days, don't read it, but I was in the mood and it did. It was beautiful.<br /><br />Aside from that I have been playing with kittens, organizing my room for post-schooling, and riffling through the archives of Suicide Girls now that I renewed my membership.<br /><br />I'm still recovering from being rather ill, and I have not returned to the gym yet, though I desperately want to. I need to find a schedule to stick to, something that does not hinder my usual day to day stuff, rather streamlines it.<br /><br />Somehow, though, amongst all these normal thoughts and feelings, new and old feelings have been rising in me. This odd detachment is quite familiar to me. But there comes this new sensation of living as I have before, stepping in steps set out, that I have been here, done this, and I know the outcome. There is an intense feeling of... destiny? I'm not sure.<br /><br />Of course, now I've multi-tasked enough to forget what I came here to write in the first place. Instead, here's a picture of one of my foster kittens, chilling out in our tiki mask.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTm3GAEdueWN2Lu0o3TaycfPQ-hwXsWy_UYD60024TKuVWKEJ1mrelB6ZuDAwxgo5ZE7H8BKPfGGPiTZkjDhlNw__hs_uPKayTg0cA2wkqm2O9OHhgK0NORPDVFxqf9J_dWMtc/s1600-h/FosterCats+019+Altered.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTm3GAEdueWN2Lu0o3TaycfPQ-hwXsWy_UYD60024TKuVWKEJ1mrelB6ZuDAwxgo5ZE7H8BKPfGGPiTZkjDhlNw__hs_uPKayTg0cA2wkqm2O9OHhgK0NORPDVFxqf9J_dWMtc/s400/FosterCats+019+Altered.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341540000071881314" border="0" /></a>Yeah, they sleep there often. Sometimes in a big pile. It's one of the cuter things that they do.<br /><br />You can also see videos of them by going to my YouTube channel:<br /><br />http://www.youtube.com/user/ladyteigra <br /><br />Super-cute stuff.<br /><br />Buona notte i miei amori,<br /><br />~LadyTeigra~Teigrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06950936535300713389noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14787881.post-21403837982706459762009-05-21T00:39:00.000-07:002009-05-21T00:59:37.961-07:00She doesn't existI've been out, I've been in, I've been sick to my stomach physically and mentally, but I think I have finally pulled myself out of this god farted funk.<br /><br />I said "fuck it" to two of my finals. This entire semester has been shit. I've been stressed and I have, for the first time in my life, been very ill for a good long time. Not really ill as in physically ill, though it did manifest itself as such every so often, but sick in the mind. I have been intolerably down in the dumps. I think I'm getting out of it.<br /><br />There are still moments, though, when I'm falling asleep that I wonder if I will wake up. My therapist tells me that feelings of impending death are normal amongst those that suffer from depression. <br /><br />I also know that this is the first time I have fully accepted that I <span style="font-style: italic;">am</span> suffering from depression. Something rather serious that really puts me into a bad state every here and again. <br /><br />I am taking next semester off of school, so I will not be attending for either summer (my usual time off) or fall semester. I don't mind this. It's not that I am tired of school, not really. OK, so, I'm feeling a little under-challenged... but that's to be expected in a community college with someone like me. I mean, I honestly wish that my teachers would call bullshit on me once in a while. I cannot even count the times that I have done homework or "term papers" in a matter of hours, with no real prior research, and received full marks. I wish a teacher would read the paper and go, "Teigra, this is obviously not researched thoroughly enough. Sorry, but I'll have to give you a C."<br /><br />I would honestly feel almost relieved.<br /><br />I don't feel like I'm learning much right now. But I know that, given this tremendous break I'm giving myself, I will miss school by the time I re-enroll next spring.<br /><br />I also really want to read what I want to read, and I want to write. I want to feel like I can paint, draw, and do what I will without going, "Ah, lord, I have homework to do and papers to write." Even when I'm bullshitting, it still takes a while. Especially when I'm going to school full time.<br /><br />I have accepted a second job and a local pet shop, but I'm already feeling that it's a bad fit even though I have not had a single day on the job. The manager is dropping big, stinky hints that she wishes I would quit my job at the bookstore so I could be their wage-bitch. Tough luck, I get paid more at the bookstore and I love it more than I ever would working at a corporate hell-hole. <br /><br />The second job is to help save up some money. I have a necessity to either rent a small art studio or move into a two-bedroom with the boyfriend so that I can have an office. I desperately need my own space to be creative. Sharing a room is not conductive a creative atmosphere.<br /><br />Yet, I have found myself within the last few hours, amidst the huge sigh of relief that I am finally <span style="font-style: italic;">almost</span> over with this semester (one more easy paper to write!), with words floating in my head begging to be written.<br /><br />Whenever I'm in my writers mood, I get words and phrases stuck in my head, in the same fashion as having a song playing over and over in my mind. The words tickle, they feel all bubbly and pressing, like first blushes and first loves. They want to be written down, they are innocent of the direction, intent, that I may give them.<br /><br />I've been thinking a lot about death, as I mentioned briefly a moment ago. One of these things is the person looking upon the corpse of their dead lover. What is that like? Do they remember all those times that they held each other? All the times that she or he whispered "fuck me" or "love me" or "hold me"? Do they want to reach out and touch the cold, hard flesh, or do they know that this motion would be wrong, for it would steal away the memory of their warmth? <br /><br />I've been thinking of my characters and my stories. As always, in the first blush of a new story, I'm thinking of new ways to torment them. I have also been thinking about what this says about me as a person. Do I torment my characters, who are like my only beloved children, because I myself have been tormented as a child? Do I want to give them a hard life to overcome so that I can satisfy my need to overcome my own demons? Are they the embodiments of my psyche to fret and worry about the pages in my stead? <br /><br />But always in my stories there is love, there is hope after the hard storm, there is the joy in simple and pure things. There is always some lingering reason to go on and to keep fighting, no matter how small it may seem to be at first.<br /><br />Sometimes I think that if these stories ever make their way to print, it will be very hard for the average reader to sympathize with my characters. For who has really gone through this hard of a life? Who wants to put themselves in these shoes for any length of time? I have found through hard experience that most do not wish to hear about my life, that it makes them uncomfortable. I've also heard people say that when they read a book, they often dream of it and imagine it while they are reading. Would people really want to dream these dark lives? Would I make them so uncomfortable that they would put my book down and recommend to their friends never to pick it up? <br /><br />These things flick their way across my conscience sometimes, these doubts. Then the words and phrases get stuck in my head again and I realize that the stories, my stories, do not care for the world at large. I need and want to write what I have to. <br /><br />My mind keeps going back to what people are like in the face of death. A part of me wishes that I had already experienced a death of someone close to me. Then that part of me turns to look at my boyfriend, whom I love. I have imagined him dead many times, imagined the pit that it would leave in my life, and I realize that I may be closer to experiencing a death then I want to admit. He is, after all, short for this world.<br /><br />Not that I like to think on it much. Only that I do.<br /><br />...<br /><br />....<br /><br />Suddenly a loss for words. Damn it all.<br /><br />-Teigra-Teigrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06950936535300713389noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14787881.post-7717650976954547562009-05-14T01:55:00.000-07:002009-05-14T01:58:54.582-07:00I'm not caving, and I have not forgotten that this blog exists.<br /><br />It's finals week -- I'm not only studying, I'm trying to make some extra cash and managing the ridiculous amounts of questions on the stuff I'm selling... really, how many questions can you ask about Sailor Moon DVD's???... as well as studying a zombie RPG book to memorize the rules and then create a scenario for my game that I'll be running at KublaCon over the weekend of the 22nd. <br /><br />Also, I may soon be a foster for some kittens. <br /><br />And my boyfriend and I are going between love/sex/passion/cuddles and hate/annoyed/frustrated/growling. <br /><br />I'm also looking for a second job.<br /><br />And I'm trying to finish reading the "just for fun" books.<br /><br />And I'm so very, very behind on my homework.<br /><br />Expect to hear from me more after the 26th. <br /><br />Always, and in much general duress,<br /><br />TeigraTeigrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06950936535300713389noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14787881.post-83598677102181030282009-04-25T21:10:00.000-07:002009-04-25T22:01:44.392-07:00Depression, cigarettes and apologiesI've started and stopped a lot of these. I think I have about seven draft posts saved on my computer from some point or another in these last few months. I cannot honestly come up with a good and valid reason why I have neglected writing, both recreational and for my "higher purpose", for so long.<br /><br />I think, and this is a tentative idea, that I am finally rising out of the depression that has been encompassing me for the last few months. I am honestly unsure of what started it, or why it lasted so god damned long. I can say that it was (is?) one of the hardest depressions I've gone through since I was fourteen, and then seventeen, both during deeply traumatic times in my life. Nothing really traumatic has happened. I'm still living with my boyfriend, school and work are going as well as they can go, and there's no new argument with loved ones to spark such a thing.<br /><br />Still, I found myself detached, crying, and just in a generally down and out mood for the last... ever, it seems. It felt like I was some kind of mechanical version of myself, going through all the motions while my actual self looked on in an emotional null. I was drifting, I wasn't all here, and the worst part about it is that I still don't quite understand why.<br /><br />I continue, have continued, to go to therapy for these reasons, among others. The last three sessions have been devoted to trying to pull myself out of this slump and back into reality. It seems to have succeeded, for the most part.<br /><br />Of course, somewhere in here, near the end when I stopped being depressed and started to break down emotionally, that I started to crave cigarettes. Crave them badly. Worse then ever, and it had been about 15 months since going cold turkey. I had not touched a single, solitary cigarette in fifteen long months, and though there were sometimes cravings, sometimes really bad ones, there had been nothing like this.<br /><br />So, yeah, I did buy a pack of cigarettes last week. I took two drags off of one Marlboro Red and started coughing up a lung and wondering what the fuck I was doing. Of course, that wasn't the end. I did end up giving the pack of cigarettes to the boyfriend, who doused them in water, crumbled them up, and then threw them away. I did, however, purchase myself a fancy new e-cigarette (google it) which I am currently "smoking" away. So I'm back being a nicotine addict, but... I'm writing again. Here and in other places (not blogs), and my mood has improved drastically within the last week.<br /><br />I will not attribute this all to the nicotine. Extensive therapy and a very understanding boyfriend have also played their (large) roles. <br /><br />So I'm back again. Maybe on a more regular basis, though due to school and work I cannot promise a whole hell of a lot. I'm still trying to recover, I'm still trying to "find myself", I'm still trying to figure out how the hell to be a writer in the midst of having a real life.<br /><br />While I was in this depression, though, I brooded on all of my past wrong doings. My therapist says this is perfectly normal for anyone suffering from depression to do, but I felt it would be even more therapeutic to spill my emotional guts to the internet community at large. Hey, you guys haven't let me down yet, right? :-)<br /><br />Hrm, here goes:<br /><br />- I'm sorry to all of those people and places that I used to steal things from. Among these are;<br /><ul><li>The middle and high school cafeteria, who kept me up in little debbie snacks and cheeseburgers without knowing it</li><li>My first job, where I constantly snagged those Lindt truffles from</li><li>My second job... there are about six packs of cigarettes that I owe you. Sorry.</li><li>The booths at the Ren Faire in Kansas City. I realize now how hard you worked to create the things that I stole. You guys are amazing, and because of people like me, you don't get everything that you deserve out of your craft.</li><li>My family-- perhaps the easiest to steal from because you don't really expect it. I've stolen (and kept) much from all of you. Someday I'll come clean in person and hope that you can forgive me.</li><li>Other, many forgotten, retailers. Now that I work in retail I realize how shitty it is to have someone walk into your store and steal something from you, when the product you have in stock goes to pay wages and overhead cost.</li></ul>- To all of my friends and loved ones that I have lied to repeatedly. Sometimes I lie without really meaning to. Sometimes I lie and definately mean to. No matter what, most of these lies serve no purpose-- they are meaningless, petty lies designed to make me feel better about myself by fabricating a better life. But all that they do is harm our relationship, and that's really shitty of me.<br /><br />- To Dixie (my first dog) and Maxwell (my cat), I'm sorry that I have raised fists in anger towards you. Animals are like children in that they are supposed to be loved and sheltered completely by their caregivers, and never be betrayed by them with feelings of hate. I am afraid that, once for Dixie and about four times with Maxwell, I have lost my temper and struck them. All of these times I was very young and did not know how to handle my anger, but that is not a fair excuse. I'm always going to feel sorry for the look they have cast on me, and for the way they have flinched afterward when I have tried to pet them. You can never really explain to an animal, or ask forgiveness, but I will say... I'm so sorry.<br /><br />Lastly, on a very personalized note-- I'm very sorry to a certain blogger on here. You know who you are. I know that I should have the strength to just e-mail you, or even call or send a letter since I also have that information, but I'm kind of a wimp. I know that I must have hurt you, that I mistreated your kindness. Thoughts of you came up more frequently than any of the above apologies during this depression-- and don't think that I think about it just because I was depressed, I have though about it otherwise.<br /><br />Anyway, I'm very sorry. You are a very kind, very loving person, and I hope that experiences with people like me will not change those traits. Sometimes I still have imaginings of us meeting and making a real friendship in person, but I'm almost ashamed to because of my behavior. Please know that I think of you and regret not treating you with the courtesy and respect that you deserve. You're a very kind and unique individual, and I am sorry for any pain that I may have caused you.<br /><br />...<br /><br />*le sigh*<br /><br />So, there you go, 'internet community at large'. Just another rant from another anonymous person, trying to make sense of the senseless.<br /><br />Yours always,<br /><br />-Teigra-Teigrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06950936535300713389noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14787881.post-4692437552750228772009-01-17T23:38:00.000-08:002009-01-17T23:47:45.694-08:00And that white dress she's wearing, you haven't seen her for a while...I downloaded OpenOffice today so that I could finally re-access some of my old files that were in that format. I transferred the documents over to Microsoft Word--since I <span style="font-style: italic;">paid</span> for that software--and in so doing stumbled across an old poem. <br /><br />I re-read the poem a few times and made some "corrections". The poem was initially in a different direction, but feeling as I did then, with a combination of how I feel now, I changed a bit. I still prefer the first stanza to anything else, but I don't feel I can share just that with you without showing the rest of the poem. And I'm feeling the need to share. <br /><br />So, here goes:<br /><br />No Title<br /><br /><br />The pillow cover is stiff and smells of detergent still,<br />Fresh from the wash as of yesterday,<br />And it reminds my young mind how the scent of a person--<br />The scent of me--<br />Can be washed clean in an instant,<br />As though I were never there,<br />Sterilized, fragrant, pressed and folded, tucked into the cupboard,<br />Just another token from someone's sordid life.<br />And here I am, again, as a young girl,<br />Thinking about the death-feeling, close at hand,<br />Blankets are no comfort here against the coldness of mortality.<br />Darkness whispers and pulls me into its shadowy thoughts,<br />Until I cry bitter tears at the thought of my own life,<br />So lonely and broken and scared, even as a child,<br />Realizing how cold and empty is the world.</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><o:p></o:p>Somewhere amidst the dark there comes the sense of hope,<br />It is small, it is a fragile pinprick of light,<br />And even though my eyes pass over it occasionally, I see it,<br />And in it I found the scent of <i>you</i>--<br />Suddenly the night was full of deep mystery,<br />The warm wrap of primitive musk and sea salt,<br />Fallen, dreaming, past my mortal fears,<br />A smile flickering at the corners of my lips, so oft in the hard set of a frown,<br />That pinprick of light widens to a tunnel,<br />So that in my dreams I am upon a vast landscape of adventures,<br />Often returned to, often longed for, in waking times<br />And here I finally glimpse his face,<br />The hard set of jaw, darkness of eye and brow,<br />That lips curl upwards in the most beautiful expression of,<br />Openness, honesty, casual lust and a mind full of wonder,<br />Hopelessly I fall in love—with this dream.</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><o:p></o:p>This beauty I see is less physical, more a feel from deep within,<br />Settling my fears until they become a low hum,<br />Until I finally smile without reason to smile, just to feel happy--<br />Giddy with my dark-faced lover in dreams--<br />Whom I name, in my mind, after a god of love and passion,<br />Even though I know nothing of him, being a mysterious smiling face,<br />That brings me much joy even during the waking times,<br />And through torments, trials and tribulations that the world brings upon me,<br />I hold a secret inside of my mind which I pass into,<br />Each time my eyelids shut to the darkness of night,<br />In this I form the courage and the ability to love myself,<br />Mirrored in the blatant truth of his smile, the bond that I feel within me for him,<br />Though I may never know his name,<br />Or the real reason he smiles,<br />Still I can spin tales about him in my mind,<br />Wondering—as I have always done…<br />If he is real.</p> <br />----------------<br /><br />I also wish to share a song. Since I'm unfamiliar with the linking actual video to this site, I'll share the link to the youtube video of Airborne Toxic Event's "Sometime After Midnight". I quoted part of their song in my title for this post. As my step-father said, "I wanted to curl up into a ball in the corner for hours. How dare they. How dare they invade my life."<br /><br />I don't have quite the same intense feelings as he did, but I do feel that this is a nice new piece of artistry. Please give it a try.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E2YnDlEMXiU">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E2YnDlEMXiU</a><br /><br />Today was a great day at work again. My new shoes are giving me pains, but that's to be expected. Otherwise, life is peachy.<br /><br />I'm also thinking of going vegetarian. I'm reading "Skinny Bitch". It may be corrupting me...<br /><br />-Teigra-Teigrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06950936535300713389noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14787881.post-8782426521747499892009-01-12T17:27:00.000-08:002009-01-12T17:37:17.953-08:00Oh lord, please don't let me be misunderstoodWorking at a bookstore is marvelous. I don't suppose that I've mentioned that before.<br /><br />A lot of people that come into our store think that it is a lot like Powells books in Portland, but we're nowhere near the size. Powell's takes up an entire city block! Hard to imagine. I asked my co-worker about it today and he said that their mathematics and engineering section alone is about the size of our store--and our store is <span style="font-style: italic;">not small</span>.<br /><br />Today went by like a dream. I entered books, entertained, helped customers, talked about books, shelved books, talked a little politics and dream interpretation with my co-workers, and generally had a good time. I can't believe I worked a full shift and I barely feel it.<br /><br />...<br /><br />Last night I spent about two hours working on my story. Being alone has helped the process along.<br /><br />I came to the realization that I'm not, for a long time--perhaps never again--going to get the solitary lifestyle I have been accustomed to for so long. I need to find a way to fit in my writing time without other people being a problem. So I've told myself that, ok, even if you can't write every night, you can at least have one or two nights a week when the boyfriend is not around and you can just go at it. And I need to abolish the "only at nighttime" trend I've been going through. Yeah, night is a really nice time to write for me, but there are going to be a lot more opportunities if I just take the time, any time, that is available to me.<br /><br />... and it was bloody lovely, by the way. I forget. I always forget. I don't know how I do, but I can't seem to hold onto the memory of how great it feels when I'm writing, the keyboard under my fingertips or the pen in my hand, and just streaking across the page with words. Fully going at it, delving into it, half in this world, half in that one. There is absolutely no experience that I have yet had that can compare.<br /><br />It's a lot like falling in love for the first time. Like spending time with your oldest, closest, most comforting friend. Like being somewhere new for the first time, but feeling like you've been there before. Like a dream.<br /><br />I know that later it will get worse and I'll become agitated, but for right now it's bloody marvelous. I wish I could go on feeling like this for forever. This is what heaven would be like.<br /><br />All my love,<br /><br />-Teigra-Teigrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06950936535300713389noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14787881.post-46362871130288731402009-01-09T21:21:00.000-08:002009-01-09T21:22:47.986-08:00Everyone is watching T.V.Yay, today my first textbook arrived, and it was my Anatomy text book, which is the class I'm most worried about. I just spent the last two hours reading through the first chapter and taking notes. School does not start until the 23rd, but I want to make sure I'm more prepared than usual since I'm taking on a course load of 14 units plus the part-time job. <br /><br />Today is the second day of the boyfriend's week-long vacation to go visit his dad. I have to say, I don't miss him as much as I thought I would. Probably hasn't been long enough. <br /><br />I forgot how much I enjoy solitude. There's something very satisfying in having no one to announce to, and to do as you will, whenever you will, as loud as you will.<br /><br />Of course today, yesterday and the day before were all spent cleaning and organizing the apartment. We were still in the "just moved in" stage, and I've spent this time to find a place for everything after fixing the bookshelves to the walls so that--FINALLY--we were able to put up the books, DVD's, and video games that have been floating around the living room in piles and boxes for the last month. The place actually looks like a place now, all right and proper. It's a very nice feeling. <br /><br />I'm beginning to feel the writing tingle again. I haven't really been feeling it for the last full year. Something about <i>having a life</i> interferes with ones dreams and ambitions. I mean, I'm very proud of myself for still going to school and actually getting off my feet after all the horrible things that have gone awry in my life, but I can't help feel that I've lost touch with what I <i>really want</i> this last year.<br /><br />However, I'll allow myself a year off, so to speak, if that's what is required. This was a very hectic year, though not at all unpleasant... for the most part. Just a lot of moving around and changes in scenery, what with the boyfriend and all. Tuesday we celebrated our one year, looked at each other, and both said, "<i>How is it</i> that we've only known each other this long and we're living together??"<br /><br />*shrug* I guess things happen. Not altogether mysteriously, but they happen.<br /><br />I am getting a little bored of the "normal" stuff though. I prefer bitching about having writers block and not sure what color hair to make a character rather than bitching about AT&T and roommates. It all seems so <i>dull</i> when I look back at all the "problems" I was having compared to what I was actually <i>doing. </i>I do have an immense satisfaction and pleasure with just sitting down and pounding out on the keyboard, despite how distracted I'll get, and that there are "issues" within writing, and all that.<br /><br />I forget--until I feel the writing urge again--how much it feels like the <i>real me</i>. That all this other stuff is a farce simply so that I can live a semi-decent life outside of my true calling. But I'm not sure... I am young, and I feel as though my maturity level is (unfortunately?) catching up with my age. <br /><br />Sometimes I doubt my convictions. When I feel the swell and the need to write as I am now, though, I doubt nothing at all. It's as though a lens has been put in front of my eyes that lets me see clearer than ever before, and my senses become hyper-aware of smell, sound, feeling. I get <i>loads</i> of goose bumps.<br /><br />Hrm. We'll see, won't we? If I succeed, I succeed, and perhaps people will hear about me outside of my immediate life and this little blog (with its cricket audience). Maybe, perhaps, maybe.<br /><br />--Teigra--</p>Teigrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06950936535300713389noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14787881.post-5176594221978593772008-12-29T21:34:00.000-08:002008-12-29T22:07:05.811-08:00We are in love, we are at warHello hello.<br /><br />Today was a very good day. It's been a very good last couple of weeks.<br /><br />Moving out of the duplex with the roommate situation is like living in a place where you can actually breathe, and I feel like a tremendous weight has been lifted from my chest. The boyfriend and I both reflected that, despite only being here a short time, we have become more comfortable with our new one-bedroom then we ever did with the duplex. We already refer to this place rather fondly as "home", and I know that I yearn to come back here after work far more then I did when I lived with the other folks.<br /><br />I keep looking about me recently and realizing how much of my current situation is exactly what I wished for when I was a little girl and a teenager. All those times that I ranted that I wanted some place of my own, fully my own, and my own freedom to eat, speak, spend, watch, play and be what I wanted. To not have to ask permission all the time.<br /><br />I don't remember if I have mentioned this before, but I've been seeing a therapist now for about a year and a half. She's someone that's out of school and getting her internship requirements filled, so not a full-on psychologist, but it's still nice. And cheap. The cheap bit helps a lot.<br /><br />My therapist told me a couple of months ago when I referred to my childhood in a negative sense (like I do... 90% of the time) that I didn't really have a childhood. That most of the time I was growing up, I already had experienced many of the full responsibilities of an adult or at least a much older child.<br /><br />And I've said it a couple of times that I feel that my mother and I grew up together. She was far too young and, even still, I feel more her equal than her protege.<br /><br />Woah, wow, before I go down the whole "and my mother this, and my mother that" road, I should...<br /><br />POST PICTURES OF PINK HAIR.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXK59A31GaWwvDC9pr4rnSde0uJ0y5A5OjwxLw6wJ1G5Lq0mr5vte13fI6n60mURntK4oZHCdoPoYKDD1xMgyDtjoKNiLQu_kvSRntPZjFctIfiWZQW_9K0r2X7ktI1qfZ-bTf/s1600-h/00657.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 307px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXK59A31GaWwvDC9pr4rnSde0uJ0y5A5OjwxLw6wJ1G5Lq0mr5vte13fI6n60mURntK4oZHCdoPoYKDD1xMgyDtjoKNiLQu_kvSRntPZjFctIfiWZQW_9K0r2X7ktI1qfZ-bTf/s320/00657.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285459283360548962" border="0" /></a><br />Okay, okay, the biggest problem I have with this photo is:<br />A. I'm not smiling very well.<br />B. Explanation below (long winded, as usual)<br /><br />Okay, so last Monday, not this Monday, was my one year anniversary of putting down cigarettes for well and good (... maybe, they say you never quit). It's been a full year, and I've been super good. I did not balk once, not one cigarette has touched my lips, no matter how much I wanted it... and there were times that I really, really wanted it. <br /><br />The one large, large drawback--for me--of quitting smoking is that this last year I went from my slimmest-getting-slimmer 155 pounds to about 180. I'm not back over the 200 scale, which is good--I promised myself never again--but I'm still far larger then I really want to be.<br /><br />So that's why there were no pictures. I'm have self-esteem issues again. The boyfriend does not help. Having cycstic fybrosis, he <span style="font-style: italic;">has to</span> consume something like 6,000 calories a day, and his diet has been heavily influencing <span style="font-style: italic;">my</span> diet, which had been so good and full of low-calorie but quiet filling meals before him. I eat more then I did before I met him now, and my meals are nowhere near as good as they used to be.<br /><br />So that my shtick. I'm going to go back to playing a MMORPG and sucking on some Werther's Original caramel candies. <br /><br />Mmmm... stocking stuffers...<br /><br />-Teigra-Teigrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06950936535300713389noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14787881.post-867490601090608882008-12-25T11:58:00.001-08:002008-12-26T13:39:05.486-08:00Cthulhu's time has come!Remember, remember, the fifth of November?<br /><br />I certainly do. It's the day that my internet was shut down. Why? Because my roommates are tards. Despite the fact that the boyfriend and I had never been late paying PG&E, and that we always gave them our share of the rent, and that we were constantly cleaning up after them, and getting things for the house--they couldn't do one. simple. thing. Pay the friggin internet bill!<br /><br />I am happy to announce that the boyfriend and I have moved out of the roommate situation and into our own one-bedroom apartment. It's about $980 a month, so only about $150 more a month then the roommate duplex--and we don't have roommates! We decided we could cinch our belts on the unneeded expenditures if we really, really wanted to live alone--and we do!<br /><br />So that's what happened <span style="font-style: italic;">this time</span>. Good god, will I ever just stick around? I'm completely unsure on that.<br /><br />Good news though--Fall semester is over, Spring semester does not begin for another month, and until then I got things to do. Like lay in bed because I'm miserably sick.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Why does this always happen to me around this time of year???<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"></span></span></span>And as a last note: <br /><br />Pictures of pink hair are to come! Be patient--for you're working with a very, very lazy person.<br /><br />Love one and all on this most festive of years (and pardon me while I hack up a lung),<br /><br />Teigra.<span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"></span></span><br /></span>Teigrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06950936535300713389noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14787881.post-85621432001743462452008-11-04T23:12:00.000-08:002008-11-04T23:18:32.878-08:00OH MY GOD WE WON!Well, today was the first time I've voted in a Presidential election. I also voted for the California stuff.<br /><br />I voted:<br /><br />-For Obama/Biden<br />-No on Prop 8 (write in state constitution banning gay marriage)<br />-No on Prop 4 (Underage women need to wait 48 hours after parental notification to have an abortion)<br />-Yes on Prop 2 (Animals for human consumption should have the right to stand up, turn around, and spread their wings/arms/legs daily)<br />-Yes on Prop 1 (budget for a state bullet train)<br /><br />I voted for renewable energy Props and for hospital spending bills so our county and city hospitals are not condemned. I voted for Democrat except when there was a good libertarian candidate instead. <br /><br />And, holy hell on wheels...<br /><br />OBAMA FRIGGEN WON!<br /><br />I've been celebrating. Which is to say, I've been jumping up and down, doing "white girl dances", and drinking Baily's. I'm making my roommates and the boyfriend laugh, but everyone's happy.<br /><br />Go Obama! Hell YES WE CAN!<br /><br />-Teigra-<br /><br />P.S. - Honestly... I wasn't even sure this was possible. If someone said to me, "Obama's going to win" nine months ago, I'd have replied, "I really, really hope so, but I'm not sure." Oh my god I'm so freaking happy!Teigrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06950936535300713389noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14787881.post-17239791822839727582008-10-16T00:14:00.000-07:002008-10-16T00:33:36.262-07:00Got to got to get away.<meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"><meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 12"><meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 12"><link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CUsers%5CDanielle%5CAppData%5CLocal%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"><link rel="themeData" href="file:///C:%5CUsers%5CDanielle%5CAppData%5CLocal%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_themedata.thmx"><link rel="colorSchemeMapping" href="file:///C:%5CUsers%5CDanielle%5CAppData%5CLocal%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_colorschememapping.xml"><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:trackmoves/> <w:trackformatting/> <w:punctuationkerning/> 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<w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="33" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="Book Title"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="37" name="Bibliography"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="39" qformat="true" name="TOC Heading"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><style> <!-- /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:"Cambria Math"; panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4; mso-font-charset:1; mso-generic-font-family:roman; mso-font-format:other; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:0 0 0 0 0 0;} @font-face {font-family:Calibri; panose-1:2 15 5 2 2 2 4 3 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:swiss; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:-1610611985 1073750139 0 0 159 0;} /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-unhide:no; mso-style-qformat:yes; mso-style-parent:""; margin-top:0in; margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:10.0pt; margin-left:0in; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} .MsoChpDefault {mso-style-type:export-only; mso-default-props:yes; mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} .MsoPapDefault {mso-style-type:export-only; margin-bottom:10.0pt;} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.0in 1.0in 1.0in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-priority:99; mso-style-qformat:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin-top:0in; mso-para-margin-right:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:10.0pt; mso-para-margin-left:0in; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;} </style> <![endif]--> <p class="MsoNormal">Well, hi there!
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<br />The search continues for a good writers club or book club within the silicon valley that would suit my need for some kind of cultural interaction. I need to check out the clubs at school.
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<br />Book reviews to follow, folks, not my normal entries.
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<br />I just finished Philippa Gregory's The Queens Fool, the book after The Other Boleyn Girl, and before The Virgins Lover. Man, I hate that the last title there sounds so much like a romance novel, but what can you do?
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<br />I did like in The Queens Fool that Philippa used a sort of peasant/middle class girl as the narrator instead of a noble. Plus I had just read an article in the most recent Smithsonian about the Jews fleeing Spain during the time of the inquisition and all of it tied in nicely. It was a nice read, though not as compelling as The Other Boleyn Girl. I have the feeling that parts of it were purely in the interest of having an avenue between The Other Boleyn Girl and The Virgins Lover.
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<br />I have just begun reading George R. Martin's A Game Of Thrones. I'm not very used to reading strictly fantasy novels, so I'm having some fun re-acquainting myself with the way that these plots tend to flow. Also, for a fantasy novel, the book has been pretty good so far with names--something I've always found rather irritating. I can't generally enjoy a book if I'm having trouble figuring out how to pronounce everyone's name. This is a good reason why I've drifted more towards Science Fiction, Horror and straight Fiction for a long time now.
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<br />I also recently read the DC comic Kingdom Come, which I highly recommend both for the superb artwork and the very serious tone of the story. I read as well the DC comic Batman Night Cries, which was good, definitely had some amazing art, but I'm pretty torn on the story. Probably strikes a little too close to home.
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<br />Kingdom come is about the mainstream DC heroes having a sort of comeback, or reunion, after the next generation of superheroes has dominated the scene. The "classic heroes" have come back to teach the new kids a thing or two about respect, especially with powers as hazardous as theirs. After a rather serious incident, the classic heroes are finding themselves facing down a political nightmare, not to mention what could be the fate of much of the world and superheroes all together. It was a page turner.
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<br />Batman - Night Cries, is based on a string of murders following abusive parents. There are none of the usual bad guys as suspect, and the plot takes many dark and sinister turns into territory that is all too real for many of us. These are bad things that we normal people will generally hear about on our news channels and on blogs, not something that would usually grace the pages of a comic strip. It's kind of up to you whether you find the change a good thing or bad. Personally, I like comic books as an escape from the real nightmares of the world, and though Batman usually cuts it pretty close, this was just a little too much for me. I'm thinking of re-selling it back to the store.
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<br />As for The Queens Fool, it follows a renegade Jewish girl and her father fleeing Spain to England during the end of King Edwards reign and into Queen Mary's. The girl is begged as a fool first to the King and then to the Queen, and is used as a spy between Queen Mary, Princess Elizabeth, and several other noted historical figures. This gives a nice perspective on the time, while in the same moment showing some of the cultural heritage of Jew's fleeing the Inquisition and how they would have to hid in plain sight. The fool, the Jewish girl, is the daughter of a printer and is very brazen for a woman of the time, as female heroines in fiction books tend to be. She also has the gift of sight, which plays some integral roles in her being a spy, as everyone wants to put her to their work.<span style=""> </span>The pull between court life, her betrothed, her family and her heritage is very tangible throughout the narrative. It's a very compelling story, and I highly recommend it. Of course, I recommend you read The Other Boleyn Girl first.
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<br />....
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<br />I think that I may post reviews of books as I read them from now on, and perhaps reviews of movies as I see them as well. There's no particular reason for this, lord knows there are thousands upon thousands of the same out there and my audience is so small that I am nary to be noticed, but I want some semblance of consistency to this blog. I'm not political enough, even though I like politics, and I certainly don't have many other hobbies or opinions that are very interesting to speak on at the moment.
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<br />All in all, I think this blog is doomed to randomness. But all is well, I am at peace, and so I hope you be.
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<br />-Teigra</p> Teigrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06950936535300713389noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14787881.post-62446460490393554042008-10-08T23:38:00.000-07:002008-10-08T23:46:44.737-07:00So easy...This has been one of those days where I'm seeing strange things and symbolism all over the place.<br /><br />I guess it's always something I'm on the watch for, being that I write and all, but recently it has been especially prevalent. I think it has something to do, also, with reading a recent article in the Smithsonian magazine about ARG's--Alternate Reality Games--that a few thousand people play via the internet, mostly, but using clues and plot that are based in real life. <br /><br />The things that are getting to me are--there's an underpass (overpass, but I'm under it) where each of the several dozen pillars has something spray-painted on it with stenciled letters. Things like; "Sun", "Up", "Around Again", "Celestial", "Right Here", "Lucky". I'm making most of those up because I can't remember it specifically, but it's really bizarre, and you can only see them if you face one certain direction. <br /><br />Also, there's several chairs in my boyfriends work place, a library, that have strange two by two inch symbols carved into the corner of the wood. Some of them I almost want to say are astrology signs or else Greek letters. I've studied both of these things, and so far as I know the symbols do not match either astrology or the Greek alphabet.<br /><br />And, recently, many, many, many copies of the Necronomican coming into work. Dunno why, but it seems like I'm handing one to three copies a day.<br /><br />Weird shit.<br /><br />Otherwise, it's business as usual. I work, I go to school, I try to have a life. I'm tired most of the time. I love the boyfriend and I still have pink hair that I've yet to show ya'll.<br /><br />Much love,<br /><br />-Teigra-Teigrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06950936535300713389noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14787881.post-74087893226073060322008-10-06T00:06:00.000-07:002008-10-06T00:12:27.028-07:00If I had a $1,000,000If someone today gave me one million dollars, I'd...<br /><br />Probably straight-up buy a house. Somewhere more south of where I am now, closer to country, closer to the stars. Something with a yard. I'd get a dog and a good-quality used car, and I'd go to school as I am now, and work as I am now. I'd also still commute with my bike more then anything.<br /><br />I'd have a room specifically for writing, and paint the walls whatever hell color I wanted to. I'd get my furniture from Ikea. I'd have a surround-sound speaker system hooked up to my computer. I would have a lock on the door.<br /><br />I'd get my cat a cat-tree, like I've always wanted, or construct some shelves and nooks for him to climb on througout the house. You know, build the cat-tree into the house. <br /><br />My dog would be a Siberian Husky, because they're beautiful and loyal and sweet.<br /><br />I would learn how to invest the rest of the money--pretending in this million dollar fantasy that the economy is not the toilet-bowl it seems to be right now--and live mostly off what I make at work. I'd be as economical and frugal as I could be. I'd only eat out once a week. Probably Chinese food.<br /><br />I'd keep going, keep striving, keep growing and learning. Life would just be a little easier then it is right now.<br /><br />-Teigra-Teigrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06950936535300713389noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14787881.post-11720351539785246182008-10-02T20:08:00.000-07:002008-10-02T20:13:57.291-07:00We live in a beautiful world.I think I've come up with a solution to my lack of privacy issue I've been feeling recently. <br /><br />Since the garage has been emptied of our metal-heads, and now that we only have Roommate A's mother renting out half of it for storage, I'm thinking of making a "corner". Something that I can wall off with curtains or dark colored sheets with a small desk and perhaps my easel and paints. Somewhere near one of the outlets so that I can plug in my ancient laptop and get to writing. <br /><br />I really want somewhere where I can close a door and a curtain and be virtually alone. Sometimes people go into the garage, but it's much more rare then when people are in the rest of the rooms of the house, including my own (the boyfriend is in here all the bloody time, gr). So I'm thinking of going to Goodwill, finding a cheap desk and a cheap (comfortable) chair, and some curtains, and setting this up. Once I get approval from the roomies of course. <br /><br />The thing is, I need to get back to writing again. I miss writing, I haven't been writing as much as I should any more. I can feel it like a wellspring inside of me right now, bubbling and near to overflowing, but with little area to go. <br /><br />Plus, there's something about basement or warehouse-esque areas that really get my creative juices going.<br /><br />That's all I can think of to write for now. I've got some stressy things going on, but I really don't want to elaborate. Nothing earth-shattering. Not that any of it ever is. Just random, petty shit.<br /><br />Stay sane, everyone,<br /><br />-Teigra-Teigrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06950936535300713389noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14787881.post-73059887887309174312008-10-01T23:28:00.000-07:002008-10-01T23:45:42.515-07:00Swinging in the rainI just watched 'The Other Boleyn Girl' after having read the Philippa Gregory novel. <br /><br />I must say, if it comes down to it, I will much rather watch a bad movie set in pre-nineteenth century ("period pieces" if you will) then something set in modern times. However, it's still a bad movie, just with prettier clothes.<br /><br />This movie would not have stood on its own two feet if not for the book, and even with book knowledge the movie was pretty bad. I guess it had its moments of good, but the book was really a much better piece of entertainment. Considering that it does so for several days instead of two and a half hours is also a plus. I'll take three days of a good book over two and a half of a bad movie.<br /><br />Perhaps more in-depth criticisms later. For now I'm still kind of steaming over the roommates, who are really annoying me right now. I'm perfectly understandable to the fact that Roommate A works forty hours a week and goes to school full time, but Roommate B has no job and no school. So why the hell is the living room overflowing with their shit and the kitchen is never clean?<br /><br />I know that I am slightly unrealistic in my expectations of people, but I truly base it off of how I would act in their given situation. If I were in Roommate B's shoes, which I have been, I would--and have--clean up after both myself, Roommate A (partner) and anyone else that was out and about more than me on actual business. But now, he's out hanging with his friends all the time. I wonder how the hell Roommate A stands for it.<br /><br />I also hate that I come home from work or school and the T.V. is always on at loud volume, and the two of them will be sitting there staring at their laptop and not paying attention to the program. Or else they won't even be in the room, or say, "I was watching that" when you change the program when they've been gone for ten minutes. <br /><br />Reminds me why I hate T.V.<br /><br />So I've been holing up in my room again. I really don't mind very much, I have a complete multimedia center. It's mostly the kitchen that gets me more than the living room, because there's already limited counter space and there's always dishes in the sink and overflowing. Plus we've had a -very- minor roach problem since moving in, and one of the deterrents is to not leave the bloody food out. I do not. They do.<br /><br />So does the boyfriend, but I can work on him.<br /><br />And so I've adopted the title, begrudgingly, of "the bitch". I'm the one that asks people to do things like clean. Oooh, my.<br /><br />Honestly though, it's not much to ask.<br /><br />-Teigra-Teigrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06950936535300713389noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14787881.post-16212363334534620432008-09-28T20:13:00.001-07:002008-09-28T20:26:39.627-07:00All the men here have a priceToday has been fairly uneventful. I got up this morning, showered, and then called Uncle D to tell him he could come over. We went on a five-seven mile bike ride, in which I've concluded that biking to school and work may save me enough money to make it worth my while. The ride from my house to my work is short enough in minutes (about forty) that I would leave around the same time. The bike ride from my work to school is not much at all. It's just a matter of plotting the most bike-friendly and fastest routes to take. Most of the time those two criteria do not go hand in hand.<br /><br />After I got home from this ride with Uncle D, which included him treating me to breakfast at a mighty fine establishment, I took a nap. A nap with the boyfriend which did not, in this particular case, include cuddling. Because it's still BLOODY HOT.<br /><br />Every time we'd move in to snuggle each other we'd move away really quickly because we were both already sweating just from lying there.<br /><br />After that I played City of Heroes for about two hours, while listening to the Presidential Debates. Which annoyed me. Really annoyed me. More on that later. After that, I helped edit the boyfriends paper for Philosophy class, which is titled "The Substitution Theorem, Frege, And Pizza". Now he's making me dinner. Delicious stir fry.<br /><br />So! The debates. <br /><br />In a nut shell, since I'm not one of those analytical people, I'll say this;<br /><br />-Fuck McCain<br /><br />-They both sounded like silly, arguing adolescents at some points, which was frustrating. The constant interrupting was both immature and disruptive since the person being interrupted would both rise up in retaliation and you could barely hear either of them.<br /><br />-Fuck McCain! Obviously using scare-tactics through a lot of the debates, calling Obama on casting votes that he never did, dancing around questions instead of answering them straight up, taking comments out of context and just generally being a Republican asshole.<br /><br />I'm going to listen to the debates again since multi-tasking is not one of my strong suits. I plan on listening again tonight to the debates, and then perhaps reading up on both of the candidates websites what their responses have been. So hopefully I'll have further, more intellectual insights into the debate. Possibly tomorrow.<br /><br />Oh, and that whole $3 million dollars on a bear... Jesus. Where does McCain think we get the technology for so many life-saving innovations (as well as mind-numbing ones)?? Scientific research sometimes will not accomplish the goal that it set out to do, but it finds other interesting and mind-blowing things in the process. Obviously he doesn't do his research. And never, ever try and joke (I think he was joking? I hope?) when the audience isn't even supposed to respond to you. Makes you look like an ass. McCain; You looked like an ass. <br /><br />That's all for now. Food has been cooked. I shall consume it.<br /><br />-Teigra-Teigrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06950936535300713389noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14787881.post-40430823715642094602008-09-27T21:58:00.000-07:002008-09-27T22:06:36.959-07:00Millions of peaches, peaches for meSo today I had work for eight hours and as I was coming home on my bike ran into my friend James and his new girlfriend, who I'd never met before. They were on their way to my place for a pre-scheduled visit, and bearing three unreasonably large pizzas.<br /><br />Aside from the fact that I had just got off from work and was therefore already weary of people and the heat, I put on a happy face and got to socializing. Mainly it's been the heat that is killing my mood to do much of anything. For two weeks I was able to wear a light jacket and long sleeves, but now I'm scouring my closet for shorts and spaghetti-straps, and wishing that I could get out of my very skin. It's somewhere between eighty and ninety every day, and it's consistent from about ten am to twelve am. In the early morning/morning hours, there is some reprive, but only by about fifteen degrees.<br /><br />I want to go out driving with the windows down in the nighttime and look out the boyfriend's moonroof at the stars. We've found a road that seems to lead into a deep wilderness (for out here) up in the hills. It's frightening. When it comes to being scared in the dark in a car, I can rather enjoy myself. It's relaxing. Refreshing.<br /><br />My friend James and his girlfriend left about ten minutes ago and now I'm browsing the internet looking for something to entertain me but not strain me. I'm even considering my game City Of Heroes to be too much activity at the moment.<br /><br />So I'm off. My brain wants to stop working. I'm going to let it. Perhaps watch something that is not an idiotic movie*...<br /><br />Since reading the Phillipa Gregory novel I've been craving a "pre-18th century" movie. I love the clothing and the general setting, and the stories tend to be good. I can only think of two that are in my collection, but... I'm going to stop talking about it since I don't wish to bore anyone. I already have. I can tell by that look on your face. :)<br /><br />Toodles,<br /><br />-Teigra-<br /><br />*Roommates put in "Superhero Movie". Yech.Teigrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06950936535300713389noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14787881.post-59697719364278836752008-09-26T21:19:00.000-07:002008-09-26T21:36:18.031-07:00I stole this from my 4th grade English class...Ah, the stories of roommates, and the toils of moving in truckload after truckload... when the truckloads come one week apart.<br /><br />We still do not have everything set up in our new place, though we've been here three weeks. Roommate #1 has a lot of furniture and other goodies at her old apartment, but she goes to work and school full time. The boyfriend and I have all of our things over, though we occasionally make trips to his parents house to pick up miscellaneous things. Stud finders, sheets, super glue, that sort of thing.<br /><br />I'm still worried and fret over finances. I'm still telling myself "be calm". I'm reciting that prayer over and over in my head even though I have long since shed many of my Christian values, "God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change..." etc. <br /><br />I am in love with my bookstore job, and I adore my new home. The home is more of a home then I've had in many, many years. The job is one that I look forward to spending time, though I have to check myself of the temptation to buy... oh, so many books.<br /><br />I've already expanded my collection by approximately 9-12 books, though I get 50% off of an already discounted price, so my per-book total is usually something between $2-6, depending if I'm getting paperback or hardcover. That's less then your average meal, you know.<br /><br />Ah, but it'll add up, and I know it will. I've only been able to fully justify about three of them. One is a coloring book (not colored in) that I had when I was a child, and two are books that are for and by writers/editors with advice to writers. I've been having what might be called, "A shit-storm level writers block". <br /><br />The cats have settled in, I've settled in, the boyfriend and the roommates have settled in. We're having some growing pains, some, "Who the hell messed up the kitchen and didn't clean it up" pains. Some, "Why is there a trail of underwear down the hallway" pains, and some, "God damn it, I'm tired of eating Rice-a-Roni" pains.<br /><br />Ah, all’s well. I'm reminding myself many times over that instant gratification is something of a myth, at least in this context. And that, also, this is a time in my life that I should and will be living much simpler then I really want to. Anyway, if I am given a load of extravagance and everything now, I don't think I'll ever learn to appreciate it later. Or some other mumbo-jumbo Zen-Buddhist crap.<br /><br />No offense to the Zen-Buddhist people out there. Full respect to the Zen-Buddhists, yo.<br /><br />Sigh.<br /><br />I'm glad to have internet back as well. I feel more connected to the world, but I'm having trouble incorporating it into my life just now. I've gotten very used to curling up with a book for several hours. Now I'm questioning if what I was doing on the internet was so much more important than curling up with a book was.<br /><br />I just finished reading, "The Other Boleyn Girl" by Phillipa Gregory. I really enjoyed it, and would like to read more by the author. I've told myself to limit the books to one a month, getting the next one mid to late October, and so on. While I was reading it was I was deaf to much else that was going on, and such heady distractions I must space out, so that an entire week of my life does not get sucked into the binding of those pages.<br /><br />For now I'm not reading anything, though I keep picking up and playing with "The Audacity Of Hope" by Barack Obama, as well as "Contact" by Carl Sagan. Both I have found to be rather dry near the middle, and so I'm picking through them rather slowly right now. I would not generally have found Obama's book to be so, only that I've been following the campaign so closely (minus this last month) that I've heard most of what he speaks of in the book.<br /><br />Tis all for now, I think. I can't think of anything else to write about save...<br /><br />I've died my hair. Florescent pink.<br /><br />-Teigra-<br /><br />P.S.- Pictures of hair later.Teigrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06950936535300713389noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14787881.post-34397487308559889592008-09-25T14:01:00.001-07:002008-09-25T14:03:21.396-07:00I'm back! Kind of.Hi there.<br /><br />Wondered if I'd forgotten about you or forgotten to post?<br /><br />No.<br /><br />Been in the process of moving, and I have been without internet connection for what seems like a year, but has only been... a month? Three weeks? An awfully long time.<br /><br />Currently I'm having to drag the modem from the office down the hall into my room to hook up my computer to the interwebs, but I don't mind doing that for the sake of all involved, and so I can grasp my sanity yet again. I forget how much I use the internet until it is gone, and I feel<em> </em>like I'm living in a cave.<br /><br />So here's to posting! Daily! Again.<br /><br />-Teigra-Teigrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06950936535300713389noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14787881.post-82131825682880285462008-08-28T20:12:00.000-07:002008-08-28T20:43:43.198-07:00Carry on, we'll carry onHi all,<br /><br />Good god I'm exhausted.<br /><br />I didn't get to sleep until sometime around 2-3 am last night and got up at 7:30. Working on top of that has be completely pooped, though I'm sure the recently devoured large meal has something to do with my fatigue.<br /><br />I'm really upset with the roommates. Especially Michele. I've tried to contact her about the key (which I was supposed to get yesterday but didn't, so I was supposed to get today... and haven't). Now I'm asking if I can get the name/number of the manager, whom I've met but not exchanged contact information with. I've left three messages, two text and one voice, asking for the information and have been calling since 3, but she hasn't responded. It is making me increasingly worried and agitated. <br /><br />Mostly because I just handed her a shit-ton of money, and she's off out of town until Sunday. <br /><br />Now she's ignored my repeated attempts to contact her before, but she's always apologized and reassured me that's she's just really lazy. I believe her mainly because I've done the same, but I can't help but feel jittery right now. <br /><br />What's happening is that tomorrow I can work, and then Saturday-Monday all I have to do is... nothing. I really want to move in that time, before Tuesday when full school and work schedule start up. Right now I'm going, "There's nothing to do!" but by Tuesday I'll be going, "Shit! There's too much to do!" I'm going to really be pissed if she doesn't get back to me until Sunday and I find that I have to start school, start moving, and work all in the same deal.<br /><br />I don't know. When I'm engaged in business transactions I tend to be overly-communicative, so when someone is silent I get generally paranoid. What if they're stealing the money, what if this is a scam, what if she's pissed at me for sending so many damned texts, etc. <br /><br />I'm also worried because I do have packages that are being sent to the new address. Mostly to do with AT&T, and a birthday package from my mother. I've done this because I've been assured multiple times that we were to be in the process of moving by now at the latest. Well, I'm starting to get peeved.<br /><br />I really hope I'm just worrying over this too much and things will be smoothed over tomorrow, but I can't help but think the worst. My entire life I've been given the worse, and when people assure me, "Don't worry, things will be great," I can't help but not believe them.<br /><br />... and that's what my counselor would call "trust issues".<br /><br />Anyway, I'm very tired and I've been on and off the phone with different people all day. I really hope I can get the ball rolling for this weekend. Talk to ya'll later.<br /><br />-Teigra-Teigrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06950936535300713389noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14787881.post-28657360455593101572008-08-28T08:07:00.001-07:002008-08-28T08:11:17.985-07:00...Holy fucking shit all,<br /><br />On an off chance, I put down on my AIM buddy list my stepbrothers long ago s/n. And I mean from more then ten years ago long time ago. I figured that it was a lost cause, that I wouldn't find him or anything...<br /><br />BUT LO AND FUCKING BEHOLD, there he is. <br /><br />So on the morning before my first day of work I'm trembling in little bare feet, barely able to type, catching up with a brother I haven't talked to in over two years.<br /><br />...<br /><br />And as an FYI, my "brother" is mostly terminology at this point. We do not have a blood or marital tie that binds us. I still think of him as a brother though. <br /><br />Yay!<br /><br />I cannot begin to describe how much I've missed him.<br /><br />And sorry for not posting yesterday, I really should have, but I felt like there was nothing to say. I may make up for it by two posts today. Who knows?<br /><br />-Teigra-Teigrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06950936535300713389noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14787881.post-43493880861920096222008-08-26T22:09:00.000-07:002008-08-26T22:10:20.166-07:00Fly with meHi all,<br /><br />Packing today. Lots and lots and lots of packing. <br /><br />Yup. That's about it. Gave over a check for Rent/Deposit. Should be getting the keys tomorrow and be able to move in... tomorrow. <br /><br />I start work at the bookstore on Thursday. Yay. Will be definatley moving by then.<br /><br />-Teigra-Teigrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06950936535300713389noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14787881.post-18755682791258694122008-08-25T20:04:00.000-07:002008-08-25T20:49:41.189-07:00I think about loveless fascinationHi all,<br /><br />Well, today was a very good day. Not only did I get a call from University Art, I also got a call from the local used/new bookstore, and a call from about two gazillion other places that I've heard not a peep from until now. I did go and interview at the bookstore and I was offered a job starting at $10/hour and 25 hours a week. I told him--and he took it VERY well--that I was considering other offers at the moment as well, but that I'd definitely get back to him by early Wednesday.<br /><br />Tomorrow I go to the pet store and back to the art store. Uncle D is helping me out by giving me a ride to places.<br /><br />I'm very happy that I have a solid job offer now. Yes, he still was offering even after I said I was considering new positions. Speaking of--I'd never thought I'd tell an employer that I'd call them, instead of the other way around!<br /><br />University Art has promised me about 30-35 hours a week at $8.50/hour. This about equal out to the bookstore, but the bookstore is closer to light rail and easier to get to--plus has no dress code. And it has book cats.<br /><br />Well, cat. I was sad to hear that the large long-haired gray kitty recently passed away, which made me sad.<br /><br />In case you haven't put two and two together, I've shopped at this bookstore for a long time. I've also shopped at the art store for a long time. As long as I can shop at any store considering I've only been in the area a little over two years.<br /><br />... yeah, it has been that long, hasn't it?<br /><br />I am leaning towards the bookstore job. Mostly for the lack of dress code, the cats, the higher pay, the less hours, the books... the everything about it. I really like that it's a small local business. University Art has many locations and a hell of a lot more employees and all. Plus there's going to be a much more diversified and interesting crowd coming into the crowded, musty, cat-occupied bookstore on one of the valley's most trafficked road then into the art supply store. Apparently they see mostly students.<br /><br />I really liked it when I worked at Borders and the guy that was interviewing me seemed to like it as well.<br /><br />And I think it would be really nice to work around my passion again.<br /><br />I've been reading a lot more recently, the last two weeks, then in the last five or six months. I finished Angels & Demons by Dan Brown, Black House by Stephen King and Peter Straub, Garden Spells by Sarah Addison Allen (Kind of Practical-Magic-esque), and am part of the way through Contact by Carl Sagan.<br /><br />I'm also reading the Players Handbook for D&D, the new fourth edition. I usually read that before I go to sleep and it has a strange effect on my dreams, though not entirely fantasy-submerged. Mostly dreams about role-playing, creating and playing characters... etc, etc.<br /><br />Apparently the boyfriend finds it quite hot for me to be reading that book whilst I am nekkid in bed.<br /><br />One thing I did not inquire upon was if I received any discounts. I did ask about benefits packages and such, but the response was that they're mostly for management.<br /><br />... mm, no dress code...<br /><br />I could finally dye my hair white with purple streaks like I've always wanted to. And wear jeans to work. And wear comfortable shoes. Wear band t-shirts and batman t-shirts and all. "Nothing offensive," he said, "And I'd say nothing torn up, but I have a skater employee that comes in all the time in those clothes. If he offends anyone, he can usually charm them out of it just as quick, so that's OK, too."<br /><br />Not that I'd want to wear my ripped pants. They've ripped down the seat now too. If it were just the three holes in front I'd be OK, but it's not anymore.<br /><br />Ho hum. So, tonight is the last night I'll spent with the boyfriend before he goes to PAX. He's crashing at a friend’s tomorrow night to make an 8am flight on Wednesday. My roommates plan on having the first months and deposit ready before they head out to a LARP weekend event starting Thursday and going to Sunday. I'm probably going to be the one and only moving stuff this week. I've already decided not to go to the LARP because A. I don't have the cash and B. I may be needed for moving/working.<br /><br />No problem, though. I really wanted to go, but I don't mind. Camping brings up bad memories of unspeakable times. I figure that even if it doesn't get me for the first two days, it will eventually. Plus, I still don't know the crowd very well. I figure, let them all have fun and come back to a mostly unpacked home.<br /><br />Then, Tuesday is my birthday. I'll be twenty! No longer a teenager--booyah!<br /><br />Wish me luck on the close of my second decade and into the start of my third. I feel like I can actually be proud to say my age because I'm no longer, "Just a teenager".<br /><br />Though I assume I'll still be getting, "Lord, you're just a kid!" for a while to come...<br /><br />Toodles, take care, love,<br /><br />-Teigra-Teigrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06950936535300713389noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14787881.post-4961532951465279232008-08-24T18:00:00.000-07:002008-08-24T20:40:45.861-07:00I've got to know, know, know youHey all.<br /><br />Today I went with the Uncle D. to San Francisco and went fishing off the wharf. You don't need a fishing license to fish there, so it was very fun. We didn't catch anything, but we did lose 6 hooks and 3 weights. I'd consider that a successful day.<br /><br />We then went to eat on the wharf, after dropping supplies off at the car. The food where we went was really good, but the service was god-awful. The kid that was helping us was more interested in chatting with his coworkers (mostly women) then actually giving service. Uncle D. had to walk up to him to ask for refills on our drinks, and when he came back with them, neither had ice and Uncle D. didn't even get a new lemon in his iced tea. Not only that, but he spent several minutes with both our glasses full at the bar talking to another coworker.<br /><br />I don't know about all you people, but I'd have been damned embarrassed to have a customer come up to me when I was supposed to be paying attention to point out their glasses were empty. I would then make sure to QUICKLY serve them and apologize, probably 2-3 times.<br /><br />But no, he went and talked with his coworker for a while and shot the shit. Which is total BS.<br /><br />Hm, but it was a good day. Every time I go to San Francisco I say, "Man, I really really want to live here." I can persuade myself I don't when I'm away, but as soon as I'm there, I get this reckless urge to check into employment and living opportunities and just move my butt over there. I mean, the place is chock full of good public transit, nice places to go, good colleges, plenty of job opportunities. The only problem is high rent, so I'd have to have multiple roommates (like I do now). <br /><br />IF I could find a situation like I have here out there, I'd move. I'd have to convince the boyfriend, but even if he didn't want to... I think I'd move. I feel a draw to that city that is really hard to explain.<br /><br />See ya'll later, happy trails and all. Oh, by the way, wish me luck. Tomorrow I'm hoping to receive a phone call from the art store that I interviewed at. If I get hired, it's--<br /><br />Happy, happy, happy,<br />-Teigra-Teigrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06950936535300713389noreply@blogger.com2