Today's Random Thing
My horoscope at Astrocenter.com:
Mars and Venus continue to move along together in your sign, which is making you star of the show all round. No matter where you are, whether at a party, cooking in the kitchen, or out shopping, you seem to have the ability to turn heads. If you have a lot to organize to make Christmas fun and enjoyable for your family and friends you will certainly not lack helpers. One glance from those hypnotic eyes will get you everything you require and more. Mars and Venus also square Jupiter, which places you very firmly in the limelight. You are not going to hide away, and do not intend to be secretive about anything, which your usual friends might find confusing. At parties or community affairs you really shine at this time, which is doing wonderful things for your image all round. Jupiter continues to trine Pluto in your house of money and personal finances, and this is allowing you to be extravagant, knowing that there is plenty more cash in the pipeline. Lovers flock around you and sing to your tune. You are going to feel wonderful, just as though Christmas has been put on especially for your pleasure. You are in for a tremendous amount of happiness - spread it around.
I don't have anything to say about this, except I hope it's all true.
Sunday, December 22, 2002
Saturday, December 21, 2002
Random
![[If I were an online test, I would be The James Bond Villain Personality Test]](http://homepage.ntlworld.com/paulspeller/onlinetest/bond.gif "Click to find out which test you are")
I'm The James Bond Villain Personality Test!
I live in a fictional world of spies and blonde women with ridiculous names, and I like to give people plenty of options. Although whether they're villainous is not optional.
Problems
When you feel the sunset, when you feel the rain, when you feel the wind, then you will know. When you feel the seething hatred drip off a person and puddle on the ground, then you will know. When you feel the euphoria of a small child's joy, then you will know. Until then, I remain alone in my world. I remain alone in a place where the wind whispers secrets and the wisened trees talk. I remain alone in a realm where thoughts are not expressed but felt, the brain laid bare for firing thoughts. Your concious is nothing but electrical impulses that can be heard and felt with enough concentration. To think you're alone in this world is to ignore the fact that someone in the room can feel what you're thinking. To think you have a tough time is to ignore those long passed, those who are but a shallow memory in the world, those who know the true value of living since they lack it. Whatever your life is now, it won't always be and whatever your past was is what you think you were feeling at that time. Thought is fluid, expanding, contracting, dissapating, coagulating. Here or there, it matters not where it ends up. But by alone I mean that The Secrets are given to me one by one and while I am alone on one level, there's others I'm not. Something creepy, something seen, what remains of the energy, is there and will always be. To the normal person I am a loner and will always be so until the day that my brain is wiped clean of this gift or the whole world suddenly opens their minds. But alas, it is just a dream I have, to be me, to be poet, to be free, to put pen to paper and wish you a dream come true. I imagine it all for it's crazy to think that I am intimate with every molecule of rain, every particle of wind, that seething hatred covers them with layer of slick mucousy slime that drips off their body and leaves a horrible stench in the air. What if we all kept our child's imagaination and grew up to be imaginative adults? Until that day I am alone....
When you feel the sunset, when you feel the rain, when you feel the wind, then you will know. When you feel the seething hatred drip off a person and puddle on the ground, then you will know. When you feel the euphoria of a small child's joy, then you will know. Until then, I remain alone in my world. I remain alone in a place where the wind whispers secrets and the wisened trees talk. I remain alone in a realm where thoughts are not expressed but felt, the brain laid bare for firing thoughts. Your concious is nothing but electrical impulses that can be heard and felt with enough concentration. To think you're alone in this world is to ignore the fact that someone in the room can feel what you're thinking. To think you have a tough time is to ignore those long passed, those who are but a shallow memory in the world, those who know the true value of living since they lack it. Whatever your life is now, it won't always be and whatever your past was is what you think you were feeling at that time. Thought is fluid, expanding, contracting, dissapating, coagulating. Here or there, it matters not where it ends up. But by alone I mean that The Secrets are given to me one by one and while I am alone on one level, there's others I'm not. Something creepy, something seen, what remains of the energy, is there and will always be. To the normal person I am a loner and will always be so until the day that my brain is wiped clean of this gift or the whole world suddenly opens their minds. But alas, it is just a dream I have, to be me, to be poet, to be free, to put pen to paper and wish you a dream come true. I imagine it all for it's crazy to think that I am intimate with every molecule of rain, every particle of wind, that seething hatred covers them with layer of slick mucousy slime that drips off their body and leaves a horrible stench in the air. What if we all kept our child's imagaination and grew up to be imaginative adults? Until that day I am alone....
Tuesday, December 17, 2002
A Strange Rambling
Maybe I just hold other people to the same irrational and too-high expectations that I hold myself to. Or maybe when you live in a world where people always say one thing and do another, you tend to be skeptical about everything someone says. How nice to be ignorant of actions and see only words. Or maybe it's just time to stop pretending like I'm normal. I've always fantasized about doing that but actually have never done so. It's so hard for me to admit for anything abnormal about myself. I am normal...don't you see it? C'mon, believe me, I'm normal. Really, I am. I am so normal...that I'm not normal. Most times I feel like I'm just taking the parts that people consider normal and shape my personality around that. What do you think is normal? Well, I'm that....
Your head is like a chest -- some are ornate, hand-carved and lovely looking, others are just simple trunks with nothing fancy. That never matters though. It's what's inside that counts. Once the chest is opened, there's no telling what you'll find. At the top is loose papers, a myriad of daily, weekly, monthly thoughts. Some papers have the same things written on them, over and over again. Others are unique in some way. But they're just loose papers. Once those are removed, there's notebooks and journals, maybe even papers in folders, somehow bound together, the things that are thought of and upon regularily but not part of the common thoughts. Small memories, jovial stories, jokes, embarassing moments, that kind of thing. Once you've gone through those and set them aside, you're ready for the really important things. These are trinkets, photo albums, lock boxes, jewelery boxes...the things that one may or may not think about, may or may not realize that they think about, concious and unconcious thoughts. Someone with a lock box usually has secrets that they don't even know they have, things that they've bundled up so tight that to even admit to themselves that it's there will freak them out. And as life goes on, those objects get shuffled around, some papers get lost, some trinkets are given away. The items change with experience.
Every chest can be opened. Most have no locks. Every lock box can be opened too -- it just depends on the amount of prying you're willing to do. Some lock boxes come with keys taped to the lid. Others are made out of expensive locks that take longer to break into. But it can be done.
I have this problem that I only go by someone's actions rather than their words. I don't assume people are my friends unless they treat me friendly. I don't assume someone's my enemy unless they've given me reason to think so. I don't assume anyone loves me unless their actions support their words. Otherwise, how am I to know? I am normal, right? Isn't that what normal people do? Isn't that what normal people are supposed to do? It doesn't happen like that from what I've observed. Or, at least, it doesn't seem to work that way. It doesn't matter that you truly mean the sentiment that you're saying at the moment, it's in your actions, isn't it?
Or am I just crazy that way? I guess I'll never know....
Maybe I just hold other people to the same irrational and too-high expectations that I hold myself to. Or maybe when you live in a world where people always say one thing and do another, you tend to be skeptical about everything someone says. How nice to be ignorant of actions and see only words. Or maybe it's just time to stop pretending like I'm normal. I've always fantasized about doing that but actually have never done so. It's so hard for me to admit for anything abnormal about myself. I am normal...don't you see it? C'mon, believe me, I'm normal. Really, I am. I am so normal...that I'm not normal. Most times I feel like I'm just taking the parts that people consider normal and shape my personality around that. What do you think is normal? Well, I'm that....
Your head is like a chest -- some are ornate, hand-carved and lovely looking, others are just simple trunks with nothing fancy. That never matters though. It's what's inside that counts. Once the chest is opened, there's no telling what you'll find. At the top is loose papers, a myriad of daily, weekly, monthly thoughts. Some papers have the same things written on them, over and over again. Others are unique in some way. But they're just loose papers. Once those are removed, there's notebooks and journals, maybe even papers in folders, somehow bound together, the things that are thought of and upon regularily but not part of the common thoughts. Small memories, jovial stories, jokes, embarassing moments, that kind of thing. Once you've gone through those and set them aside, you're ready for the really important things. These are trinkets, photo albums, lock boxes, jewelery boxes...the things that one may or may not think about, may or may not realize that they think about, concious and unconcious thoughts. Someone with a lock box usually has secrets that they don't even know they have, things that they've bundled up so tight that to even admit to themselves that it's there will freak them out. And as life goes on, those objects get shuffled around, some papers get lost, some trinkets are given away. The items change with experience.
Every chest can be opened. Most have no locks. Every lock box can be opened too -- it just depends on the amount of prying you're willing to do. Some lock boxes come with keys taped to the lid. Others are made out of expensive locks that take longer to break into. But it can be done.
I have this problem that I only go by someone's actions rather than their words. I don't assume people are my friends unless they treat me friendly. I don't assume someone's my enemy unless they've given me reason to think so. I don't assume anyone loves me unless their actions support their words. Otherwise, how am I to know? I am normal, right? Isn't that what normal people do? Isn't that what normal people are supposed to do? It doesn't happen like that from what I've observed. Or, at least, it doesn't seem to work that way. It doesn't matter that you truly mean the sentiment that you're saying at the moment, it's in your actions, isn't it?
Or am I just crazy that way? I guess I'll never know....
Sunday, December 15, 2002
Randomness
My horoscope from Astrocenter.com:
You continue to be in top form in many ways. You have a certain something that is very attractive, and makes others want to engage with you, whether this is in terms of business, pleasure, or merely to strike up a conversation. Mercury aspects both Mars and Venus in your own sign, and this helps you to focus on saying the right things at the right time. If you need to get your message across, do so over the course of this week, when you will have maximum impact. This goes for any kind of message, whether a sales presentation, a speech or lecture or perhaps a necessary talk that you need to have with another. If you have some persuading to do, you will be at your best, charming, ever so charming, but forceful enough to get your point home. Your love life revolves around 'your' plans, ideas, and your ego. If you don't like the way the game is played, then you will be more than happy to say so, in no uncertain terms. On the one hand, if you find things very pleasing, there is no end to the amount of trouble you will go through, to continue to have a good time. A Full Moon in your house of passion and intensity brings an interesting decision your way.
Hmmm. This is a rather interesting horoscope...because I'm already feeling this way. There's a few things I want to say to people, especially since I'm getting sick of "I'll say one thing but do another" tactic. If there's ever one piece of good advice an asshole friend ever gave me, it was "be honest with yourself". And that makes sense. It really doesn't matter if you're honest with other people or not, just know who/what you are and don't be afraid to admit it to yourself. But sometimes a person will come along and call you on it; don't be afraid to admit it to them either. I am not a nice person. I can be downright cruel if I expend any energy for it. Sometimes I say mean things in a joking way but I'm really not kidding because I'm annoyed by it. And I hate to be ignored. I have this problem with people constantly obsessing over their distractions and then apologizing for ignoring me, because, you see, they really wanted to spend time with me. Forget it. A long, long time ago I decided -- no, vowed -- that I would do my best to entertain myself and not be dependant upon others for my amusement. And if someone was going to be distracted by things -- books, computers, video games, drugs -- then I didn't have to put up with that. And throughout my life, it's always been one of those things that make people ignore me. In fact, I know people that have done more than one of those things. There's no sense in wasting my time when it's valuable. So then I distract myself, and if suddenly then you want to pay attention to me, well, you're going to have to wait until I am done. There's a proper time for doing things. I'm not an attention hog; there are times where I don't care if someone's doing something other than paying attention to me. It's just when I want attention, I would like to recieve it. Especially since I don't ask for it often. I guess that's what bugs me; I don't ask for someone to pay attention to me very often so when I want attention, apparently they think it can wait. Oh, well, does it really matter anymore? I guess not. I guess it never matters, one of those things I just have to expect and get over. I just can't help feeling hurt, but I really should get over that too. Maybe I'm the one with the fault....
My horoscope from Astrocenter.com:
You continue to be in top form in many ways. You have a certain something that is very attractive, and makes others want to engage with you, whether this is in terms of business, pleasure, or merely to strike up a conversation. Mercury aspects both Mars and Venus in your own sign, and this helps you to focus on saying the right things at the right time. If you need to get your message across, do so over the course of this week, when you will have maximum impact. This goes for any kind of message, whether a sales presentation, a speech or lecture or perhaps a necessary talk that you need to have with another. If you have some persuading to do, you will be at your best, charming, ever so charming, but forceful enough to get your point home. Your love life revolves around 'your' plans, ideas, and your ego. If you don't like the way the game is played, then you will be more than happy to say so, in no uncertain terms. On the one hand, if you find things very pleasing, there is no end to the amount of trouble you will go through, to continue to have a good time. A Full Moon in your house of passion and intensity brings an interesting decision your way.
Hmmm. This is a rather interesting horoscope...because I'm already feeling this way. There's a few things I want to say to people, especially since I'm getting sick of "I'll say one thing but do another" tactic. If there's ever one piece of good advice an asshole friend ever gave me, it was "be honest with yourself". And that makes sense. It really doesn't matter if you're honest with other people or not, just know who/what you are and don't be afraid to admit it to yourself. But sometimes a person will come along and call you on it; don't be afraid to admit it to them either. I am not a nice person. I can be downright cruel if I expend any energy for it. Sometimes I say mean things in a joking way but I'm really not kidding because I'm annoyed by it. And I hate to be ignored. I have this problem with people constantly obsessing over their distractions and then apologizing for ignoring me, because, you see, they really wanted to spend time with me. Forget it. A long, long time ago I decided -- no, vowed -- that I would do my best to entertain myself and not be dependant upon others for my amusement. And if someone was going to be distracted by things -- books, computers, video games, drugs -- then I didn't have to put up with that. And throughout my life, it's always been one of those things that make people ignore me. In fact, I know people that have done more than one of those things. There's no sense in wasting my time when it's valuable. So then I distract myself, and if suddenly then you want to pay attention to me, well, you're going to have to wait until I am done. There's a proper time for doing things. I'm not an attention hog; there are times where I don't care if someone's doing something other than paying attention to me. It's just when I want attention, I would like to recieve it. Especially since I don't ask for it often. I guess that's what bugs me; I don't ask for someone to pay attention to me very often so when I want attention, apparently they think it can wait. Oh, well, does it really matter anymore? I guess not. I guess it never matters, one of those things I just have to expect and get over. I just can't help feeling hurt, but I really should get over that too. Maybe I'm the one with the fault....
Saturday, December 07, 2002
And Now For Something Random...
How To Be Bar Mouse Without Really Trying
A typical conversation in The Palace Of Rock:
"So...what's your name?"
"Mouse."
"Mouse?...Aww, c'mon, what's your real name?"
"I do have a real name. Here I'm 'Mouse'. You can call me Mouse."
Always pay. Always be jovial. And don't heckle the band too much. Be pleasant, don't barf on the floor, and never spill your beer. It always helps to have writing and/or reading inplements. Keep to yourself, but don't be afraid to join in conversations or reject anyone who talks to you (with the exception of creepy dirty old men...and young, cute men who act like dirty old men don't count!). Never raise a stink at last call. Leave at last call and attempt to get everyone to go with you.
Work Can Be Amusing
Over the loudspeaker: "Paging Rob, your cat is here..." At least, that's what it sounded like. I sat there for a moment, and not wanting to really work and share the amusement, I turned to my coworker and said, "Did you just hear that announcement? It sounded like he said 'cat'." He said, "Yeah, that's what I thought he said too..." and then we cracked enough jokes until we were in stitches. I laughed so hard I had tears in my eyes. Like, the cat's pacing around the lobby and saying, "You better get him down here RIGHT NOW." It has to be one pissed off cat to come to work to bother his owner. This poor Rob guy's coworkers are trying not to laugh, and as he walks by, they're like, "It's your cat again, isn't it, Rob?" and Rob replies "Yes" as he tries to slink out of the office to go see what his cat wants while his coworkers are giggling in his wake and saying, "Man, that's really pussywhipped...."
How To Have Too Much Fun
Programs that let you draw, even better if there's more than one person doodling. I have a picture that two of my friends and I worked on...it was pretty funny. You can get some interesting results. A friend and I were doodling and came up with some of the most interesting depictions of Christmas symbols lit on fire. Because it just isn't Christmas unless it's lit on fire.
And now I must go. I've been listening to music and I think I have to go make a CD. I hate this utter addiction to music. (Well, not really....)
How To Be Bar Mouse Without Really Trying
A typical conversation in The Palace Of Rock:
"So...what's your name?"
"Mouse."
"Mouse?...Aww, c'mon, what's your real name?"
"I do have a real name. Here I'm 'Mouse'. You can call me Mouse."
Always pay. Always be jovial. And don't heckle the band too much. Be pleasant, don't barf on the floor, and never spill your beer. It always helps to have writing and/or reading inplements. Keep to yourself, but don't be afraid to join in conversations or reject anyone who talks to you (with the exception of creepy dirty old men...and young, cute men who act like dirty old men don't count!). Never raise a stink at last call. Leave at last call and attempt to get everyone to go with you.
Work Can Be Amusing
Over the loudspeaker: "Paging Rob, your cat is here..." At least, that's what it sounded like. I sat there for a moment, and not wanting to really work and share the amusement, I turned to my coworker and said, "Did you just hear that announcement? It sounded like he said 'cat'." He said, "Yeah, that's what I thought he said too..." and then we cracked enough jokes until we were in stitches. I laughed so hard I had tears in my eyes. Like, the cat's pacing around the lobby and saying, "You better get him down here RIGHT NOW." It has to be one pissed off cat to come to work to bother his owner. This poor Rob guy's coworkers are trying not to laugh, and as he walks by, they're like, "It's your cat again, isn't it, Rob?" and Rob replies "Yes" as he tries to slink out of the office to go see what his cat wants while his coworkers are giggling in his wake and saying, "Man, that's really pussywhipped...."
How To Have Too Much Fun
Programs that let you draw, even better if there's more than one person doodling. I have a picture that two of my friends and I worked on...it was pretty funny. You can get some interesting results. A friend and I were doodling and came up with some of the most interesting depictions of Christmas symbols lit on fire. Because it just isn't Christmas unless it's lit on fire.
And now I must go. I've been listening to music and I think I have to go make a CD. I hate this utter addiction to music. (Well, not really....)
Friday, November 29, 2002
The Weirdest Dream Of All
I was in a church. Well, not a church exactly...it was more like a stadium, with rows and rows of seats. The church was packed and down near the...well...stage, I guess, that's what it looked like, was someone preaching. He was talking about how all of us were sinners and other things about religion. I was up near the top, behind some glass, listening to his sermon from small speakers. I forgot what he said, but then he asked the congregation to do something, like confess sins or whatever. And as they were thinking about it, the screen switched on with a bible quote or a question or something and little keypads popped out from the backs of the chairs. The people were entering in something, like numbers or letters. The screen was remarkable though; the quotation or whatever on the screen had a red background, with a Coca-Cola symbol on the top middle of it. Like an endorsement. I crept closer, right down an aisle, not believing what I saw and wondering if anyone had the same slow sinking feeling I had. Then the screen went blank and the preacher called on a man. "I am a sinner," he began, "I can see things, like into the future and I know what people are thinking and a whole bunch of things like that. I can't help it, it just happens. I am so sorry to God and everyone else that these things happen." He gave an example of something that he did. Then the preacher started saying, "You see, there's a sinner. The Devil is working through him, confusing him...." and on and on he went. Suddenly I noticed the people. They were all nodding in agreement. But the looks on their faces...they were blank looks. Like everything he said they'd agree with no matter what it was. Suddenly I couldn't take it anymore. "NO!" I shouted. "That's NOT what it is. If God bestows a gift upon someone, who are you to say that it is evil? If you use it manipualte other people, get them to do what you want, then it is evil. But if you use it to help someone, it isn't evil. And if God didn't want him to have it, God wouldn't have given it to him." I looked around, and the people just sat there in silence. The person who had "confessed" their "sins" looked at me horror. "Don't you see?" I yelled. "It isn't evil. It's what you do with it that counts...."
And I then I woke up.
I was in a church. Well, not a church exactly...it was more like a stadium, with rows and rows of seats. The church was packed and down near the...well...stage, I guess, that's what it looked like, was someone preaching. He was talking about how all of us were sinners and other things about religion. I was up near the top, behind some glass, listening to his sermon from small speakers. I forgot what he said, but then he asked the congregation to do something, like confess sins or whatever. And as they were thinking about it, the screen switched on with a bible quote or a question or something and little keypads popped out from the backs of the chairs. The people were entering in something, like numbers or letters. The screen was remarkable though; the quotation or whatever on the screen had a red background, with a Coca-Cola symbol on the top middle of it. Like an endorsement. I crept closer, right down an aisle, not believing what I saw and wondering if anyone had the same slow sinking feeling I had. Then the screen went blank and the preacher called on a man. "I am a sinner," he began, "I can see things, like into the future and I know what people are thinking and a whole bunch of things like that. I can't help it, it just happens. I am so sorry to God and everyone else that these things happen." He gave an example of something that he did. Then the preacher started saying, "You see, there's a sinner. The Devil is working through him, confusing him...." and on and on he went. Suddenly I noticed the people. They were all nodding in agreement. But the looks on their faces...they were blank looks. Like everything he said they'd agree with no matter what it was. Suddenly I couldn't take it anymore. "NO!" I shouted. "That's NOT what it is. If God bestows a gift upon someone, who are you to say that it is evil? If you use it manipualte other people, get them to do what you want, then it is evil. But if you use it to help someone, it isn't evil. And if God didn't want him to have it, God wouldn't have given it to him." I looked around, and the people just sat there in silence. The person who had "confessed" their "sins" looked at me horror. "Don't you see?" I yelled. "It isn't evil. It's what you do with it that counts...."
And I then I woke up.
And Just Something
So I'm doing all of this writing. And my mom comes into the room, stands there for no apparent reason, is silent for a moment before she says, "Well. Someone did change the calendar to December.", and continues to stand there for a moment. Actually, for several long moments. And I wait for her to leave. Finally she does.
Just that final thought of the hell I have to live with this month. Now I'll be off to bed and cry myself to sleep with the hopelessness of it all. I love Christmas.
So I'm doing all of this writing. And my mom comes into the room, stands there for no apparent reason, is silent for a moment before she says, "Well. Someone did change the calendar to December.", and continues to stand there for a moment. Actually, for several long moments. And I wait for her to leave. Finally she does.
Just that final thought of the hell I have to live with this month. Now I'll be off to bed and cry myself to sleep with the hopelessness of it all. I love Christmas.
Something Thought
Mr. Blond says that he hasn't kept up with reading my blogs. Which is just as well for me. I wouldn't want anyone getting too close again. After all, there's a lot that I don't tell him. I'm being cautious, I know, but it's out of habit and protection for myself. I don't want to have a pattern of the same kind of relationships that boarder on the "honky tonk". (Go listen to some classic country.) Especially since I pay for a lot of things. Really, I've heard the "when I get a job, I'll buy you [insert whatever item here]" thing too many times to really believe it. The proof is when those people actually get a job. And there's been enough times that someone has and has never shown the same kind of generousity that I've shown them. I'm a skeptic. I can't help it. Or maybe it's a defense. The thing is, it's not a bad defense. Really, it isn't.
And he tries so hard to get me to tell him what's wrong. I just won't; I can't tell him because I don't trust him to know how much anything really hurts me. I feel too close in some ways and to make up for it, I have to not be close in others. I'm good at distance. Distraction is another good one too. If he's too busy, then he won't pay attention in those single moments where I feel the chasm of lonliness. Or he'll forget about them. At least, I hope that's what happens. At the same time, I don't want it to. I want to say how I feel. But I can't. And then people tell me I'll get married one day. I laugh at that. No, I won't. I can barely live with myself, how is anyone really going to able to live with me? There are times even I don't want to be around myself so I can only imagine the tourture other people have to go through because I'm there. I don't even know why he's interested in me; I'm the daffy sort, and it really must be frustrating to hang around someone so not apparently as smart as he is. I know people who are smarter than me. And I'm not all that interesting either. All I ever do is write or read a book. And I can be very annoying. Very, very annoying. Ask any of my friends, they'll tell you. I don't claim to be a nice person because I'm not.
Or maybe I'm just feeling this way now because I live in a house with two crazy people who play games with me....
Mr. Blond says that he hasn't kept up with reading my blogs. Which is just as well for me. I wouldn't want anyone getting too close again. After all, there's a lot that I don't tell him. I'm being cautious, I know, but it's out of habit and protection for myself. I don't want to have a pattern of the same kind of relationships that boarder on the "honky tonk". (Go listen to some classic country.) Especially since I pay for a lot of things. Really, I've heard the "when I get a job, I'll buy you [insert whatever item here]" thing too many times to really believe it. The proof is when those people actually get a job. And there's been enough times that someone has and has never shown the same kind of generousity that I've shown them. I'm a skeptic. I can't help it. Or maybe it's a defense. The thing is, it's not a bad defense. Really, it isn't.
And he tries so hard to get me to tell him what's wrong. I just won't; I can't tell him because I don't trust him to know how much anything really hurts me. I feel too close in some ways and to make up for it, I have to not be close in others. I'm good at distance. Distraction is another good one too. If he's too busy, then he won't pay attention in those single moments where I feel the chasm of lonliness. Or he'll forget about them. At least, I hope that's what happens. At the same time, I don't want it to. I want to say how I feel. But I can't. And then people tell me I'll get married one day. I laugh at that. No, I won't. I can barely live with myself, how is anyone really going to able to live with me? There are times even I don't want to be around myself so I can only imagine the tourture other people have to go through because I'm there. I don't even know why he's interested in me; I'm the daffy sort, and it really must be frustrating to hang around someone so not apparently as smart as he is. I know people who are smarter than me. And I'm not all that interesting either. All I ever do is write or read a book. And I can be very annoying. Very, very annoying. Ask any of my friends, they'll tell you. I don't claim to be a nice person because I'm not.
Or maybe I'm just feeling this way now because I live in a house with two crazy people who play games with me....
Something Felt
Do you know how hard it is not to cry? Your throat hurts, tears well up in your eyes, that kind of thing. I was considering pulling over to the side of the road and bawling before I picked up Mr. Blond. But then I didn't. And on our way to where we were, I nearly burst into tears again. It's really hard not to cry.
And why, pray tell, would I cry?
It's now the official "holiday season". This is the season in which I am constantly yelled at. This is the season that I am told that I have to do all of these things and only told them as I'm leaving the house, and if I say no, I am met with glares and yelling or total angry silence. No one thinks to ask me in advance for their help. This is the season where I hear about how much money my mother has spent on everyone. This is the season in which my mother feels like bestowing gifts upon me that I probably won't like. (I have two such gifts already. I don't know why I would make out a list if she's not going to keep to it. The bad thing though is that they were expensive, and for less money, she could have bought me several of the things I wanted instead. In other words, she bought me something that she liked but I didn't.) This is the season that I, as the official daughter, have to make sure that everything gets done and that my mother doesn't freak out. Never mind that I had plans, never mind that I'm really tired, never mind that I don't want to spend three hours straight with my mother. She never truly acknowledges what I do.
I wanted to be out before this came around. I pictured sitting in my own place, thinking of what she had to do, and laugh my ass off while I ignore the phone because she'd probably be calling me to help with something. I don't think I can take another year of this. Last year, I didn't cry until a week before. This year, I'm crying now. It's going to be bad.
That, and she made me really angry today. "When I said that you have to have the car fixed," she said, "I saw the look on your face." And then she went into a speech on how they don't have very much money in their budget to help me. "Fine," I said, "let's take the car to the boy's ranch and I'll take the bus from now on." She looked at me in horror. "Are you comfortable with that?" she asked. I gave her a look and said, "How much money do you really think I have? I have parking tickets and credit cards to pay off, not to mention school." And she wanted to know how much. You know, it's not like they're going to help me out with it, so they have no right to know how much. It's none of their flippin' business. I flat out told her it was none of her business. Did that stop her? NO. It didn't. She kept pressing until I told her. I hate her. I really do. Like I'm lying about being in debt. Finally she said that she'd help with the car. I think she's the one afraid of me taking the bus. What the fuck does she think is going to happen when I move out? I can't afford a car. Is she on crack? Anyway, it's not like I have a choice in the matter. Oh, and get this: "Well, we thought you'd be gone by now. We didn't plan on you still living here." (This was in the litany of "what we owe".) I just have two words for that: FUCK YOU. I didn't plan on living with them when I went to college. I planned on moving out and going away to college. They told me they wouldn't help pay for it then. I planned on moving out after the first two years. Again, they wouldn't help pay for it at all. But I absolutely had to get a college education. I really hate it when people play these types of games with me. I really hate it. Have I not done enough for them? Have I not followed their path for me? It hurts so much...I'm going to cry. I should stop now, while I am ahead. Do you know how hard it is not to cry? It gives me a headache....
Do you know how hard it is not to cry? Your throat hurts, tears well up in your eyes, that kind of thing. I was considering pulling over to the side of the road and bawling before I picked up Mr. Blond. But then I didn't. And on our way to where we were, I nearly burst into tears again. It's really hard not to cry.
And why, pray tell, would I cry?
It's now the official "holiday season". This is the season in which I am constantly yelled at. This is the season that I am told that I have to do all of these things and only told them as I'm leaving the house, and if I say no, I am met with glares and yelling or total angry silence. No one thinks to ask me in advance for their help. This is the season where I hear about how much money my mother has spent on everyone. This is the season in which my mother feels like bestowing gifts upon me that I probably won't like. (I have two such gifts already. I don't know why I would make out a list if she's not going to keep to it. The bad thing though is that they were expensive, and for less money, she could have bought me several of the things I wanted instead. In other words, she bought me something that she liked but I didn't.) This is the season that I, as the official daughter, have to make sure that everything gets done and that my mother doesn't freak out. Never mind that I had plans, never mind that I'm really tired, never mind that I don't want to spend three hours straight with my mother. She never truly acknowledges what I do.
I wanted to be out before this came around. I pictured sitting in my own place, thinking of what she had to do, and laugh my ass off while I ignore the phone because she'd probably be calling me to help with something. I don't think I can take another year of this. Last year, I didn't cry until a week before. This year, I'm crying now. It's going to be bad.
That, and she made me really angry today. "When I said that you have to have the car fixed," she said, "I saw the look on your face." And then she went into a speech on how they don't have very much money in their budget to help me. "Fine," I said, "let's take the car to the boy's ranch and I'll take the bus from now on." She looked at me in horror. "Are you comfortable with that?" she asked. I gave her a look and said, "How much money do you really think I have? I have parking tickets and credit cards to pay off, not to mention school." And she wanted to know how much. You know, it's not like they're going to help me out with it, so they have no right to know how much. It's none of their flippin' business. I flat out told her it was none of her business. Did that stop her? NO. It didn't. She kept pressing until I told her. I hate her. I really do. Like I'm lying about being in debt. Finally she said that she'd help with the car. I think she's the one afraid of me taking the bus. What the fuck does she think is going to happen when I move out? I can't afford a car. Is she on crack? Anyway, it's not like I have a choice in the matter. Oh, and get this: "Well, we thought you'd be gone by now. We didn't plan on you still living here." (This was in the litany of "what we owe".) I just have two words for that: FUCK YOU. I didn't plan on living with them when I went to college. I planned on moving out and going away to college. They told me they wouldn't help pay for it then. I planned on moving out after the first two years. Again, they wouldn't help pay for it at all. But I absolutely had to get a college education. I really hate it when people play these types of games with me. I really hate it. Have I not done enough for them? Have I not followed their path for me? It hurts so much...I'm going to cry. I should stop now, while I am ahead. Do you know how hard it is not to cry? It gives me a headache....
Sunday, November 24, 2002
Random, As It Seems
So I have this feeling that Mr. Blond is preoccupied at the moment. What do I do? Head to the nearest bar....Well, not the nearest, but maybe the dearest.
And now I'm rife with thoughts.
I've often said that I want to be married and have bebes within the next five years. But no one's thought to ask me what would happen if that never came true. The answer then is that I won't get married, ever....And don't think about the kiddies part, because accidents happen. I would never blame a kid I bore for the fact that I wasn't responsible. That's just too harsh. There are people like that, but since it's a miracle that a child is even concieved, I'm not going to hold it responsible for my actions. And if you don't believe me...think about what goes into having a child. To begin with, you need the right conditions. For instance, ovulation. A woman just doesn't get pregnant unless there's an egg just waiting to be fertilized. And the egg is usually fertilized when it's travelling down the fallopian tube. Then it implants itself in the uterus. Seems simple, right? It's not. A million and one things can happen that egg and sperm can't meet. And that's not with any risk factors involved, like smoking and/or drinking. If the sperm meets the egg too soon, there's more than a chance for miscarrage. If the sperm is immature, there's a chance for miscarrage. If the egg is not viable, there's a chance for miscarrage. There are a million and one ways that a pregnancy won't happen, that when it does, I'm not one to argue with the chances. Eduacated people get frustrated with the world at large because there's over six billion of us...but really, the fact that humans could ever reach that proportion is staggering.
I'm just baby crazy. That's all it is. Really.
It has nothing to with the fact that I'm in love or anything. But I'm also annoyingly dipolmatic. If someone's not on the same page as me, I won't go around forcing them to think the same way I do. I've learned that mistake over and over again.
And now I'm going to bed. I'm pretty tipsy, wouldn't y'all like to know what I think? One day I'll tell, just not now....
So I have this feeling that Mr. Blond is preoccupied at the moment. What do I do? Head to the nearest bar....Well, not the nearest, but maybe the dearest.
And now I'm rife with thoughts.
I've often said that I want to be married and have bebes within the next five years. But no one's thought to ask me what would happen if that never came true. The answer then is that I won't get married, ever....And don't think about the kiddies part, because accidents happen. I would never blame a kid I bore for the fact that I wasn't responsible. That's just too harsh. There are people like that, but since it's a miracle that a child is even concieved, I'm not going to hold it responsible for my actions. And if you don't believe me...think about what goes into having a child. To begin with, you need the right conditions. For instance, ovulation. A woman just doesn't get pregnant unless there's an egg just waiting to be fertilized. And the egg is usually fertilized when it's travelling down the fallopian tube. Then it implants itself in the uterus. Seems simple, right? It's not. A million and one things can happen that egg and sperm can't meet. And that's not with any risk factors involved, like smoking and/or drinking. If the sperm meets the egg too soon, there's more than a chance for miscarrage. If the sperm is immature, there's a chance for miscarrage. If the egg is not viable, there's a chance for miscarrage. There are a million and one ways that a pregnancy won't happen, that when it does, I'm not one to argue with the chances. Eduacated people get frustrated with the world at large because there's over six billion of us...but really, the fact that humans could ever reach that proportion is staggering.
I'm just baby crazy. That's all it is. Really.
It has nothing to with the fact that I'm in love or anything. But I'm also annoyingly dipolmatic. If someone's not on the same page as me, I won't go around forcing them to think the same way I do. I've learned that mistake over and over again.
And now I'm going to bed. I'm pretty tipsy, wouldn't y'all like to know what I think? One day I'll tell, just not now....
Sunday, November 17, 2002
I Am Not Amused
Short Jokes: Even if you think you're being original, you're not. I'm short. I've heard just about every short joke that there is to hear. I don't find it funny. It's not that I don't have a sense of humor; it's the lack of originality that does not amuse me. Whatever it is in relation to me, the joke will always be "small" or "short". And if I don't laugh, that doesn't mean I'm "short" on brains...it just means that I don't find it funny. I don't believe in laughing at jokes that I do not find funny. I guess you could say I have a "short" sense of humor. Ha. Ha. The jokes on you, of course: I have a "short" temper. So don't even try. (Oh, btw, I may be short, but I have a presence -- and occasionally, ego -- that can fill a room. How else does one become the Bar Mouse or even the Audience of One?)
Chicks who can't handle their liquor: One sat down next to me because she was going to pass out. Really, you should leave before then. Many times I've barfed or nearly passed out...and that's the time to make a quick exit from the bar. Bartenders usually remember that kind of thing. There's only one time where I nearly passed out, and that was forgivable because it was my birthday and I'd had a lot of liquor. I didn't pass out completely; I was dazed and drunk. Passing out is something you do in your car or at home. You should leave before then. Oh, and make sure your boyfriend isn't an asshole about it; if you occupy someone else's seat, especially if it's crowded in the bar, the least you should do is offer to buy them a beer or shot. Think of it as the price of courtesy. Especially if you are rude to the person whose seat you now occupy. And you should know how drunk you're getting. It's not that hard to gauge.
Sex: I don't care. I don't care who has, how many times, how long, what anyone's philosophy is about it, what is done during. I just don't care. It's not that interesting to know about such things. Whatever story anyone has, there's prolly a better one out there. Oh, but one useful tip: If you're late for something, you can always use it as an excuse. "Sorry I was late, but I was, well, I was having sex." Try that one at work next time.
Jokes that I don't get: I don't care. Really, I don't. Sometimes they are funny if they're explained. But sometimes, the explanation of it just takes away whatever humor value there was to it. If it was "you had to be there" (or "you had to see it"), it's prolly not going to be as funny. I understand this. That's why I never try to explain my random laughter.
On a side note, there was a song playing last night that reminded me of Cosmic. He had a silly dance to it. And even funnier, today he called me and we chatted on the phone for awhile. We're going out drinking later this week...and he's paying. Woo-hoo! I will drink that boy under the table....(Which, incidentally, I have done. And still was sober enough to go home. Hehehehe.)
Short Jokes: Even if you think you're being original, you're not. I'm short. I've heard just about every short joke that there is to hear. I don't find it funny. It's not that I don't have a sense of humor; it's the lack of originality that does not amuse me. Whatever it is in relation to me, the joke will always be "small" or "short". And if I don't laugh, that doesn't mean I'm "short" on brains...it just means that I don't find it funny. I don't believe in laughing at jokes that I do not find funny. I guess you could say I have a "short" sense of humor. Ha. Ha. The jokes on you, of course: I have a "short" temper. So don't even try. (Oh, btw, I may be short, but I have a presence -- and occasionally, ego -- that can fill a room. How else does one become the Bar Mouse or even the Audience of One?)
Chicks who can't handle their liquor: One sat down next to me because she was going to pass out. Really, you should leave before then. Many times I've barfed or nearly passed out...and that's the time to make a quick exit from the bar. Bartenders usually remember that kind of thing. There's only one time where I nearly passed out, and that was forgivable because it was my birthday and I'd had a lot of liquor. I didn't pass out completely; I was dazed and drunk. Passing out is something you do in your car or at home. You should leave before then. Oh, and make sure your boyfriend isn't an asshole about it; if you occupy someone else's seat, especially if it's crowded in the bar, the least you should do is offer to buy them a beer or shot. Think of it as the price of courtesy. Especially if you are rude to the person whose seat you now occupy. And you should know how drunk you're getting. It's not that hard to gauge.
Sex: I don't care. I don't care who has, how many times, how long, what anyone's philosophy is about it, what is done during. I just don't care. It's not that interesting to know about such things. Whatever story anyone has, there's prolly a better one out there. Oh, but one useful tip: If you're late for something, you can always use it as an excuse. "Sorry I was late, but I was, well, I was having sex." Try that one at work next time.
Jokes that I don't get: I don't care. Really, I don't. Sometimes they are funny if they're explained. But sometimes, the explanation of it just takes away whatever humor value there was to it. If it was "you had to be there" (or "you had to see it"), it's prolly not going to be as funny. I understand this. That's why I never try to explain my random laughter.
On a side note, there was a song playing last night that reminded me of Cosmic. He had a silly dance to it. And even funnier, today he called me and we chatted on the phone for awhile. We're going out drinking later this week...and he's paying. Woo-hoo! I will drink that boy under the table....(Which, incidentally, I have done. And still was sober enough to go home. Hehehehe.)
Monday, November 11, 2002
More Random
My horoscope from Astrocenter.com
You seem to have a lot of personal issues to work on over the course of this week. Mercury continues to conjunct the Sun, and both square the Moon and oppose Jupiter. You are desperately seeking a solution to your current dilemma. You are trying to see the bigger picture as well as intuit some of the hidden and tiny details. There is a lot to take in and you need to find a way to get a handle on this issue that empowers you, rather than making you feel helpless and out of control. Venus continues to be retrograde in your sign and this is encouraging you to look very closely at the way you relate to others. Sometimes we have a tendency to accuse others of doing things that we quite blatantly do ourselves, but can't see. Your love life is not your main focus right now. But perhaps by trying to gain a deeper understanding of who you are and why you do what you do - you will gain insights. This seems to be a week when you clear away toxic emotions and let in the pure light of forgiveness - if this is possible. Bathe your heart and soul in the clear waters of truth and let yourself go.
I don't know about this one. I'm always asking myself questions to gain insight. This is something I try to do on a daily basis. Oh, well, maybe it'll be nothing....
My horoscope from Astrocenter.com
You seem to have a lot of personal issues to work on over the course of this week. Mercury continues to conjunct the Sun, and both square the Moon and oppose Jupiter. You are desperately seeking a solution to your current dilemma. You are trying to see the bigger picture as well as intuit some of the hidden and tiny details. There is a lot to take in and you need to find a way to get a handle on this issue that empowers you, rather than making you feel helpless and out of control. Venus continues to be retrograde in your sign and this is encouraging you to look very closely at the way you relate to others. Sometimes we have a tendency to accuse others of doing things that we quite blatantly do ourselves, but can't see. Your love life is not your main focus right now. But perhaps by trying to gain a deeper understanding of who you are and why you do what you do - you will gain insights. This seems to be a week when you clear away toxic emotions and let in the pure light of forgiveness - if this is possible. Bathe your heart and soul in the clear waters of truth and let yourself go.
I don't know about this one. I'm always asking myself questions to gain insight. This is something I try to do on a daily basis. Oh, well, maybe it'll be nothing....
Sunday, November 10, 2002
To Hell With It
We were sitting in the car. "Yeah," my friend says, "you're 25 now. I remember you ranting about how you couldn't wait to be 25. You said, 'Now I will be heard.'"
I had forgotten about that. When I turned 24, something magical was supposed to have happen (I won't elaborate, but it would have been big). If I lived to 25, that's when I'd be a real adult. Notice how no one ever pays attention to anyone under the age of 25? No one takes you seriously. But then you're 25, 26 and people start talking to you as if you're an actual adult. They assume that you know something. And for whatever meager attention that might bring, I'd be happy to have it. I'm tired of people not taking me seriously or even listening to me. There are so many conversations that I'd like to have but no one really has the time -- or interest -- to sit with me and listen. It'd be even better if they also knew what I was talking about but I'm not going to be that picky. Like I say, I'd rather pretend that I never was a child. I couldn't wait to be an adult when I was younger. I desparately wanted to grow up. Slowly but surely I did. I'm still growing up. And I never want to be a kid again. My pain is my own and makes me who I am but that doesn't mean that I want to live through that tourture again. You may be thinking to yourself, "What could really be so bad?" All I can say is that I understand the frustration, humiliation, depression of those who go to school and go on shooting sprees because they were teased. The anger, the despair, just the horrible sadness that follows you around and takes up space in your head, and in the quiet moments can be so loud and deafening that it drives you crazy and you want your life to end because it's there, always there, and you can't escape from it. I understand the children who live in such a hell that they would commit suicide to get away from the pain that their classmates cause them. Zero Tolerance won't get rid of the bullies. It's nothing that the kids themselves do, they aren't particularily weak or suseptable to attack...just somewhere on Earth, a group of kids gets it into their heads that they have to be so mean to one person. It's a way of fitting in, I suppose. Whenever you see those shocking things on TV, just remember that something so seriously wrong happened to this kid, that they believe that this is their only way out of it.
And to be really sad about it, the only thing that stopped me from doing something so dramatic or committing suicide was my faith in God. I'm not saying it would work for anyone else, I'm just saying it worked for me. When I had no one else, not even my parents, there was God. There's nothing like being alone in a church with just you and Jesus. God may not always answer your prayers, God may not even give you the answer you want, but that's God, and maybe it's just as well then. After all, God's got your interests at heart. I knew that I would never get half the things I prayed for but it still felt better just to rant to God. God listens. And for the times when I cursed God because I was mad at God, I knew deep down that it was silly to be mad at God for my own failings, for not getting what I wanted because I wanted to be lazy about it and not work for it. I think that's most people's problem with God; you don't get instant gratification from God. On the same token, if God can be patient with me when I'm ranting, then I guess I could be patient with God if I ask for something. I think of God as a best friend and mentor. Maybe that's why I have issues with fundamentalists; their God is an unforgiving parent who will bestow harsh punishments upon you and all you can do is ask for what little mercy God may have (but don't expect to get it, you heathen sinner!) instead of God as someone who helps you and understands a bit about humanity and occasionally tries to steer you in another direction if it seems the one you're on will lead you to places that you really shouldn't go. Friendly advice...you can take it or leave it and if you leave it, that's the path to sin. As one spiritual mentor (and piano teacher) once noted to me, "God came down to us through Jesus. We think that now what God wants is for us to meet Him on His level." And if that's not true, I still don't care, because I will always believe in God and always try my best to be a good Christian. Sometimes I fancy that I feel like Jesus standing around the high priests and Pharasees, telling people that it's not necessarily the religious rules that matter, it's the understanding of God and willingness to carry out God's plan that matters. Like I said before, there's traditions and rituals, and those are okay, but they aren't the teachings themselves. You can wear your chastity rings and fast for Lent, but if you don't really believe in God and you don't live with God in your heart, you still won't get the "get into heaven free" pass. God's gonna know if you're paying lip service or not. If you're a Christian, and you stand on a street corner and yell to the world that the heathen homosexuals are going to burn in hell, and then proceed to badger anyone you see that you think might be homosexual, THEN YOU'RE NOT LIVING THE WORD OF GOD! If you live the word of God, you'd leave them alone because it's not up to you to decide where they're going and if they reject God, that's not your problem and you can't cure them or berate them or anything else. "He who is without sin shall cast the first stone." "How can you say to your brother, 'Let me take the speck out of your eye', when all the time there is a plank in your own eye?" How can a Christian really ignore these kinds of teachings? Am I truly the only one who actually thinks about what they mean? I'm not going to shove my beliefs about God down anyone's throat. But for those who do believe, don't you think they should know better? I certainly do. With the way things go, though, I'm beginning to feel that I'm in the minority on that one...guess I'm gonna have to start going to church again. I need the reassurance that someone out there will teach the word of God with humanity instead of callous disregard for people.
Where was I? Oh, yeah. Turning 25. I've had a strange year and a half. An engagement, a fire, and broken engagement...a few men thrown into the mix. It's been so hectic. Maybe now life will be better than it has been from now on. I certainly hope so. And now I'm all out of writing steam, so I think I'm gonna go and make some breakfast....
We were sitting in the car. "Yeah," my friend says, "you're 25 now. I remember you ranting about how you couldn't wait to be 25. You said, 'Now I will be heard.'"
I had forgotten about that. When I turned 24, something magical was supposed to have happen (I won't elaborate, but it would have been big). If I lived to 25, that's when I'd be a real adult. Notice how no one ever pays attention to anyone under the age of 25? No one takes you seriously. But then you're 25, 26 and people start talking to you as if you're an actual adult. They assume that you know something. And for whatever meager attention that might bring, I'd be happy to have it. I'm tired of people not taking me seriously or even listening to me. There are so many conversations that I'd like to have but no one really has the time -- or interest -- to sit with me and listen. It'd be even better if they also knew what I was talking about but I'm not going to be that picky. Like I say, I'd rather pretend that I never was a child. I couldn't wait to be an adult when I was younger. I desparately wanted to grow up. Slowly but surely I did. I'm still growing up. And I never want to be a kid again. My pain is my own and makes me who I am but that doesn't mean that I want to live through that tourture again. You may be thinking to yourself, "What could really be so bad?" All I can say is that I understand the frustration, humiliation, depression of those who go to school and go on shooting sprees because they were teased. The anger, the despair, just the horrible sadness that follows you around and takes up space in your head, and in the quiet moments can be so loud and deafening that it drives you crazy and you want your life to end because it's there, always there, and you can't escape from it. I understand the children who live in such a hell that they would commit suicide to get away from the pain that their classmates cause them. Zero Tolerance won't get rid of the bullies. It's nothing that the kids themselves do, they aren't particularily weak or suseptable to attack...just somewhere on Earth, a group of kids gets it into their heads that they have to be so mean to one person. It's a way of fitting in, I suppose. Whenever you see those shocking things on TV, just remember that something so seriously wrong happened to this kid, that they believe that this is their only way out of it.
And to be really sad about it, the only thing that stopped me from doing something so dramatic or committing suicide was my faith in God. I'm not saying it would work for anyone else, I'm just saying it worked for me. When I had no one else, not even my parents, there was God. There's nothing like being alone in a church with just you and Jesus. God may not always answer your prayers, God may not even give you the answer you want, but that's God, and maybe it's just as well then. After all, God's got your interests at heart. I knew that I would never get half the things I prayed for but it still felt better just to rant to God. God listens. And for the times when I cursed God because I was mad at God, I knew deep down that it was silly to be mad at God for my own failings, for not getting what I wanted because I wanted to be lazy about it and not work for it. I think that's most people's problem with God; you don't get instant gratification from God. On the same token, if God can be patient with me when I'm ranting, then I guess I could be patient with God if I ask for something. I think of God as a best friend and mentor. Maybe that's why I have issues with fundamentalists; their God is an unforgiving parent who will bestow harsh punishments upon you and all you can do is ask for what little mercy God may have (but don't expect to get it, you heathen sinner!) instead of God as someone who helps you and understands a bit about humanity and occasionally tries to steer you in another direction if it seems the one you're on will lead you to places that you really shouldn't go. Friendly advice...you can take it or leave it and if you leave it, that's the path to sin. As one spiritual mentor (and piano teacher) once noted to me, "God came down to us through Jesus. We think that now what God wants is for us to meet Him on His level." And if that's not true, I still don't care, because I will always believe in God and always try my best to be a good Christian. Sometimes I fancy that I feel like Jesus standing around the high priests and Pharasees, telling people that it's not necessarily the religious rules that matter, it's the understanding of God and willingness to carry out God's plan that matters. Like I said before, there's traditions and rituals, and those are okay, but they aren't the teachings themselves. You can wear your chastity rings and fast for Lent, but if you don't really believe in God and you don't live with God in your heart, you still won't get the "get into heaven free" pass. God's gonna know if you're paying lip service or not. If you're a Christian, and you stand on a street corner and yell to the world that the heathen homosexuals are going to burn in hell, and then proceed to badger anyone you see that you think might be homosexual, THEN YOU'RE NOT LIVING THE WORD OF GOD! If you live the word of God, you'd leave them alone because it's not up to you to decide where they're going and if they reject God, that's not your problem and you can't cure them or berate them or anything else. "He who is without sin shall cast the first stone." "How can you say to your brother, 'Let me take the speck out of your eye', when all the time there is a plank in your own eye?" How can a Christian really ignore these kinds of teachings? Am I truly the only one who actually thinks about what they mean? I'm not going to shove my beliefs about God down anyone's throat. But for those who do believe, don't you think they should know better? I certainly do. With the way things go, though, I'm beginning to feel that I'm in the minority on that one...guess I'm gonna have to start going to church again. I need the reassurance that someone out there will teach the word of God with humanity instead of callous disregard for people.
Where was I? Oh, yeah. Turning 25. I've had a strange year and a half. An engagement, a fire, and broken engagement...a few men thrown into the mix. It's been so hectic. Maybe now life will be better than it has been from now on. I certainly hope so. And now I'm all out of writing steam, so I think I'm gonna go and make some breakfast....
The Sensless Random
After a week of vacation, now I will have to return to work. I am not particularily looking forward to that. Oh well.
I had a good time on my birthday. Someone asked me if it was the best birthday I had or if there was a better one. I don't have good or bad birthdays. I figure that I shouldn't be celebrating them at all, what with it being the same as any other day for most of the world. Big deal that I was born on that day, so were lots of other people. The only thing that makes that day special is because I was born on it. And since I'm not that special -- or foolish enough to think I am -- I don't think I should celebrate it. I'm just average Jane eking out a living, thank you very much. I also got really drunk -- something which I don't look forward to. Being wasted is dangerous. I can blackout, and when I'm that drunk that I never recall what I did, I have a tendancy to roam around alone. That's the trouble I had with my purse. I don't know if it was stolen or if I left it somewhere. I hate myself for ever getting that drunk. It's disgusting and so not professional. Besides, what good is it to get that drunk? How do I know if I'm having a good time or not if I can't remember a damn thing? It's not cool and I feel stupid when I have that much to drink. But I did have fun, of what I can remember. So I guess it wasn't all that bad.
And now I'm going to go get some well deserved rest. No more partying for me during the week. Bar Mouse needs a rest.
After a week of vacation, now I will have to return to work. I am not particularily looking forward to that. Oh well.
I had a good time on my birthday. Someone asked me if it was the best birthday I had or if there was a better one. I don't have good or bad birthdays. I figure that I shouldn't be celebrating them at all, what with it being the same as any other day for most of the world. Big deal that I was born on that day, so were lots of other people. The only thing that makes that day special is because I was born on it. And since I'm not that special -- or foolish enough to think I am -- I don't think I should celebrate it. I'm just average Jane eking out a living, thank you very much. I also got really drunk -- something which I don't look forward to. Being wasted is dangerous. I can blackout, and when I'm that drunk that I never recall what I did, I have a tendancy to roam around alone. That's the trouble I had with my purse. I don't know if it was stolen or if I left it somewhere. I hate myself for ever getting that drunk. It's disgusting and so not professional. Besides, what good is it to get that drunk? How do I know if I'm having a good time or not if I can't remember a damn thing? It's not cool and I feel stupid when I have that much to drink. But I did have fun, of what I can remember. So I guess it wasn't all that bad.
And now I'm going to go get some well deserved rest. No more partying for me during the week. Bar Mouse needs a rest.
Friday, November 01, 2002
Sometimes It Sucks
I haven't really been writing here much. It's poetry season for me. So I pull out and dust off all of the bitter resentments I have and write beautiful touching poetry, the kind that makes you want to jump off a bridge in glory. Forget about happiness. I prefer to write good depressing poetry. Most depression-written poetry is sad poetry, not just in feeling but also in subject matter. There's a million words and degrees of feeling depressed and I want to write about every one of them. The down side to this is that I get really depressed. I suppose it would help if I wasn't depressed about a few things to begin with. I'm also frustrated with a few things, so that adds a bit to my sour moods. Yesterday, I tried not to cry at work. God, that was so hard. The hard part, though, about choking back tears is that, when you do want to cry, you can't. I nearly burst into tears when I was on the phone with Mr. Blond. I had to take deep breaths to keep it together. I hate crying in front of people, even if it is over the phone. I prefer to cry alone, just me, and yell and curse and such. (I can, however, cry in front of other people. In fact, if I weren't me, I would prolly enjoy watching me go insane. It would make for good entertainment. Don't believe me? Go read about my nervous breakdown in March.) I think the worst is over, but I still feel a little down. I think I'm going to go have coffee and cheer myself up....
I haven't really been writing here much. It's poetry season for me. So I pull out and dust off all of the bitter resentments I have and write beautiful touching poetry, the kind that makes you want to jump off a bridge in glory. Forget about happiness. I prefer to write good depressing poetry. Most depression-written poetry is sad poetry, not just in feeling but also in subject matter. There's a million words and degrees of feeling depressed and I want to write about every one of them. The down side to this is that I get really depressed. I suppose it would help if I wasn't depressed about a few things to begin with. I'm also frustrated with a few things, so that adds a bit to my sour moods. Yesterday, I tried not to cry at work. God, that was so hard. The hard part, though, about choking back tears is that, when you do want to cry, you can't. I nearly burst into tears when I was on the phone with Mr. Blond. I had to take deep breaths to keep it together. I hate crying in front of people, even if it is over the phone. I prefer to cry alone, just me, and yell and curse and such. (I can, however, cry in front of other people. In fact, if I weren't me, I would prolly enjoy watching me go insane. It would make for good entertainment. Don't believe me? Go read about my nervous breakdown in March.) I think the worst is over, but I still feel a little down. I think I'm going to go have coffee and cheer myself up....
Monday, October 21, 2002
Random
My horoscope from Astrocenter.com:
Life is slowing down a little, although the movement of the Sun into your sign this week highlights your self-expression. You will be very much aware of how emotional factors from the past are affecting your performance in the present, and if you are astute you might be able to use this to make significant changes to your general performance. The fact that Venus continues to be retrograde in your sign may also be bringing you in contact with people or even partners from your past. This in itself will be a healing factor if you can manage to hold any conversations with them that should have occurred some time back. Your love life could be moving along very slowly, but letting go of any unfinished business will certainly be a great help right now. Don't underestimate this. The trine between Jupiter and Pluto is enabling you to really push for what you want, even if you have been feeling any sense of inadequacy in the past. Mercury makes a sextile to both planets and this enables you to listen to some of the deeper whispers of your soul. You have a chance to hear what your heart has been trying to tell you for so long. Don't be afraid to let your emotions flow this week.
Sometimes there are horoscopes that are trival to life, a bit meaningless or trite to you, and never reflect anything you are feeling/thinking/doing. And then there's the times when a horoscope hits you hard, smack dab right between the eyes. There are only two sources for horoscopes that I take somewhat seriously because, more often than not, they represent what I am thinking/feeling/doing. But when I get these cosmic warnings, I don't know what to do. This one is encouraging...because I'm feeling a little confused of late over a situation. And yes, it does involve a boy. There comes a point in a quasi-serious/friends with benefits relationship where a line has to be drawn. Either you are friends or you are not. Either you are "hooked up" or not. There comes a time when there isn't really an inbetween. A point where it either moves forward, backward, or halts in its tracks.
Or maybe I'm just feeling that way. I just don't know. I'm tired of the same old inbetweenness I get from boys. It's fun for the first fifteen minutes but then it gets old. It's just a self esteem thing, I guess. What? Am I not worthy to be someone's girlfriend? Are they just waiting for better things to come around? Am I just a distraction to wile away the time? I mean, I don't doubt that they don't feel something for me, but what is it with me and them? I just don't get it. Am I intimidating? Am I too stupid? Am I too stubborn? What? What am I doing wrong?
And now I think of what my cousin's going through. We're not so strong as we look. We take it for granted that for some reason, by whatever deity's grace, we are allowed to live. Why the hell should I even get down about this kind of thing? Life is too damn short to worry about boys...or about my hapiness...wait, did I just say that?
Oh, forget it. I'm going to go drown my sorrows in coffee now. Maybe I'll feel better tomorrow.
(Staind: "I can't mend, but I feel, that tomorrow will be okay...")
My horoscope from Astrocenter.com:
Life is slowing down a little, although the movement of the Sun into your sign this week highlights your self-expression. You will be very much aware of how emotional factors from the past are affecting your performance in the present, and if you are astute you might be able to use this to make significant changes to your general performance. The fact that Venus continues to be retrograde in your sign may also be bringing you in contact with people or even partners from your past. This in itself will be a healing factor if you can manage to hold any conversations with them that should have occurred some time back. Your love life could be moving along very slowly, but letting go of any unfinished business will certainly be a great help right now. Don't underestimate this. The trine between Jupiter and Pluto is enabling you to really push for what you want, even if you have been feeling any sense of inadequacy in the past. Mercury makes a sextile to both planets and this enables you to listen to some of the deeper whispers of your soul. You have a chance to hear what your heart has been trying to tell you for so long. Don't be afraid to let your emotions flow this week.
Sometimes there are horoscopes that are trival to life, a bit meaningless or trite to you, and never reflect anything you are feeling/thinking/doing. And then there's the times when a horoscope hits you hard, smack dab right between the eyes. There are only two sources for horoscopes that I take somewhat seriously because, more often than not, they represent what I am thinking/feeling/doing. But when I get these cosmic warnings, I don't know what to do. This one is encouraging...because I'm feeling a little confused of late over a situation. And yes, it does involve a boy. There comes a point in a quasi-serious/friends with benefits relationship where a line has to be drawn. Either you are friends or you are not. Either you are "hooked up" or not. There comes a time when there isn't really an inbetween. A point where it either moves forward, backward, or halts in its tracks.
Or maybe I'm just feeling that way. I just don't know. I'm tired of the same old inbetweenness I get from boys. It's fun for the first fifteen minutes but then it gets old. It's just a self esteem thing, I guess. What? Am I not worthy to be someone's girlfriend? Are they just waiting for better things to come around? Am I just a distraction to wile away the time? I mean, I don't doubt that they don't feel something for me, but what is it with me and them? I just don't get it. Am I intimidating? Am I too stupid? Am I too stubborn? What? What am I doing wrong?
And now I think of what my cousin's going through. We're not so strong as we look. We take it for granted that for some reason, by whatever deity's grace, we are allowed to live. Why the hell should I even get down about this kind of thing? Life is too damn short to worry about boys...or about my hapiness...wait, did I just say that?
Oh, forget it. I'm going to go drown my sorrows in coffee now. Maybe I'll feel better tomorrow.
(Staind: "I can't mend, but I feel, that tomorrow will be okay...")
Wednesday, October 16, 2002
Food For Thought
Open Letter To My Cuz:
I love ya, girlie. You are the sister I never had. In fact, at times I think of you as my sister. We grew up together (because of our paranoid mothers). We're from some of the same stock. And because you're three years younger than I am, we were always thrown together. There are people I talk to who never see or speak to their own siblings, let alone cousins, let alone cousins being like siblings and friends to them. We have it lucky.
I only say this because of the thing in your head. Yeah, I understand that you're scared. So am I. I wouldn't want to ever lose one of my good friends and personal confidantes. That thought is terrifying. I want you to be around for a long, long time. I want you to be my maid of honor at my wedding (whenever I decide to get married, that is!). I want to be able to call you up and chat over our children (whenever that will be). I want us to take our daughters out shopping in December like our mothers do with us. There are sooo many things that we have yet to do together....
And I don't want you to go insane with everyone treating you like you're going to die. Whatever it is, you will be okay. But don't let this whole experience lead you to jump into decisions that you might regret later. Remember what I said? So what you break his heart? If you marry him, it could be worse. And how happy is he going to be if you're not happy? If he's happy with you and he doesn't care or notice that you're unhappy, then what is the point of marrying someone? Just because everyone else pressures you into it? It's your life. I try to give you the other side of it. Remember, I almost got married. In some ways, I was afraid to. In other ways, it just wouldn't work out. He knew when I was unhappy but he didn't always know it. Sometimes it seemed as if he didn't care. And I did try. For now, be content on being your age and don't worry about it. You don't really have to get married until you're thirty. And if your brother or sister marry before you, be happy for them. You make your own choices. You're the one that has to live with it day in and day out. And if you can't see that happening, RUN!
And I know you're not going to die or anything. But it does make me think -- what if I was the one that had something wrong with me? It's scary for me in that sense too. Maybe I don't care so much about school. Maybe I just want to spend more time with people. I would hate to lose you to anything. And maybe there are times where we don't get to speak to each other a whole lot, but then there are times when we can't stop chatting (so how many times do you come over to my desk? hehehe.) I mean, I can't get those silly times out of my head...
Remember when we used to sleep in your parent's room? That was fun. We'd giggle all night. It was funny when I put those pillows under the blanket and went and hid in the closet...and you came and jumped on them, expecting to scare the hell out of me. And then I jumped out of the closet and you screamed. Or when you got your own room, the nights where we'd stay up and play Waterworks or Mille Bournes and eat copious amounts of Coca Puffs (or the bag equivalent -- those were packed with more sugary goodness) and when we were slightly older, we'd stay up and play Canasta and drink lots of Mountain Dew and Pepsi and eat ice cream. How could I live without the person with whom I played "bakery" with? (Your parents must have kept Builder's Square in business with all that sand they bought. Didn't they close not long after your parents got rid of the sandbox?)
But I guess my point is, there's a lot of memories there, there's the family ties there, and it takes lots to destroy them. And I know you'll be alright. And I know that everything will go back to a somewhat chaotic normal. But for now, Cuz, I love ya, and don't think that you'd get rid of me that easily.
Open Letter To My Cuz:
I love ya, girlie. You are the sister I never had. In fact, at times I think of you as my sister. We grew up together (because of our paranoid mothers). We're from some of the same stock. And because you're three years younger than I am, we were always thrown together. There are people I talk to who never see or speak to their own siblings, let alone cousins, let alone cousins being like siblings and friends to them. We have it lucky.
I only say this because of the thing in your head. Yeah, I understand that you're scared. So am I. I wouldn't want to ever lose one of my good friends and personal confidantes. That thought is terrifying. I want you to be around for a long, long time. I want you to be my maid of honor at my wedding (whenever I decide to get married, that is!). I want to be able to call you up and chat over our children (whenever that will be). I want us to take our daughters out shopping in December like our mothers do with us. There are sooo many things that we have yet to do together....
And I don't want you to go insane with everyone treating you like you're going to die. Whatever it is, you will be okay. But don't let this whole experience lead you to jump into decisions that you might regret later. Remember what I said? So what you break his heart? If you marry him, it could be worse. And how happy is he going to be if you're not happy? If he's happy with you and he doesn't care or notice that you're unhappy, then what is the point of marrying someone? Just because everyone else pressures you into it? It's your life. I try to give you the other side of it. Remember, I almost got married. In some ways, I was afraid to. In other ways, it just wouldn't work out. He knew when I was unhappy but he didn't always know it. Sometimes it seemed as if he didn't care. And I did try. For now, be content on being your age and don't worry about it. You don't really have to get married until you're thirty. And if your brother or sister marry before you, be happy for them. You make your own choices. You're the one that has to live with it day in and day out. And if you can't see that happening, RUN!
And I know you're not going to die or anything. But it does make me think -- what if I was the one that had something wrong with me? It's scary for me in that sense too. Maybe I don't care so much about school. Maybe I just want to spend more time with people. I would hate to lose you to anything. And maybe there are times where we don't get to speak to each other a whole lot, but then there are times when we can't stop chatting (so how many times do you come over to my desk? hehehe.) I mean, I can't get those silly times out of my head...
Remember when we used to sleep in your parent's room? That was fun. We'd giggle all night. It was funny when I put those pillows under the blanket and went and hid in the closet...and you came and jumped on them, expecting to scare the hell out of me. And then I jumped out of the closet and you screamed. Or when you got your own room, the nights where we'd stay up and play Waterworks or Mille Bournes and eat copious amounts of Coca Puffs (or the bag equivalent -- those were packed with more sugary goodness) and when we were slightly older, we'd stay up and play Canasta and drink lots of Mountain Dew and Pepsi and eat ice cream. How could I live without the person with whom I played "bakery" with? (Your parents must have kept Builder's Square in business with all that sand they bought. Didn't they close not long after your parents got rid of the sandbox?)
But I guess my point is, there's a lot of memories there, there's the family ties there, and it takes lots to destroy them. And I know you'll be alright. And I know that everything will go back to a somewhat chaotic normal. But for now, Cuz, I love ya, and don't think that you'd get rid of me that easily.
Sunday, October 13, 2002
More Amusement
My horoscope from Astrocenter.com:
Venus continues to be retrograde in your sign, and this is making you very aware of the reasons why current relationships may be going through a rough patch. If you want to heal the issues that are plaguing you then use the energy available at this time to look within and see what the root cause may be. Venus also trines Jupiter over the course of this week and this makes you buzz with excitement concerning a special challenge within your current career. You know that if you play your cards right you can have that promotion or get to head that new project, and you also know exactly what to do to win. Don't go over the top but enjoy pitting your wits and skills against the others. Right at the start of the week Mars makes a square to Saturn and this will create obstacles when it comes to negotiating a business or other deal in which resources or property is being pooled or mortgaged out. Don't worry, this won't be for long, perhaps a day or two, and you might find that the wait actually turns things in your favor. Jupiter trines Pluto which enables you to go from strength to strength especially where your earning capacity is concerned.
With the way things are going at work, I hope that this is true. I BETTA get more money. I'm trying to sort things out with my supervisors (because we can't have just one) but I keep getting the runaround. It's getting ridiculous.
When Nature Strikes:
I was sitting at my computer peacefully typing away and singing to music, writing at a good clip for Crazy Girl In Crazy World. Out of the corner of my eye, I spot something moving. What could this offending creature be? AN ANT! Those who know me best know about my deep seething hatred of ants. At least it wasn't a winged one. I cursed at it and killed the damn thing. I hate Nature.
My horoscope from Astrocenter.com:
Venus continues to be retrograde in your sign, and this is making you very aware of the reasons why current relationships may be going through a rough patch. If you want to heal the issues that are plaguing you then use the energy available at this time to look within and see what the root cause may be. Venus also trines Jupiter over the course of this week and this makes you buzz with excitement concerning a special challenge within your current career. You know that if you play your cards right you can have that promotion or get to head that new project, and you also know exactly what to do to win. Don't go over the top but enjoy pitting your wits and skills against the others. Right at the start of the week Mars makes a square to Saturn and this will create obstacles when it comes to negotiating a business or other deal in which resources or property is being pooled or mortgaged out. Don't worry, this won't be for long, perhaps a day or two, and you might find that the wait actually turns things in your favor. Jupiter trines Pluto which enables you to go from strength to strength especially where your earning capacity is concerned.
With the way things are going at work, I hope that this is true. I BETTA get more money. I'm trying to sort things out with my supervisors (because we can't have just one) but I keep getting the runaround. It's getting ridiculous.
When Nature Strikes:
I was sitting at my computer peacefully typing away and singing to music, writing at a good clip for Crazy Girl In Crazy World. Out of the corner of my eye, I spot something moving. What could this offending creature be? AN ANT! Those who know me best know about my deep seething hatred of ants. At least it wasn't a winged one. I cursed at it and killed the damn thing. I hate Nature.
Sunday, October 06, 2002
Amusement
My horoscope from Astrocenter.com:
Venus in your own sign turns retrograde over the course of this week which means that you will be looking back at the past, and specifically at any emotional issues that may seem to arise out of the swamps to greet you once again. These will certainly involve people and problems that you might have thought you had laid to rest, only to discover that they are back to haunt you. Do something positive this time, you certainly will have long enough to do so. Be prepared to look inside yourself and see where your attitude in relationships could be more tolerant and understanding. If you make the corrections within yourself then everything will clear up on the outside as well. There are also some interesting issues arising in terms of your social life and current friends. Both Mercury and Mars in Virgo are squaring Saturn, which may temporarily bring about a situation in which you find yourself having to cut your losses as far as one friendship or perhaps group is concerned. You have probably known this was going to happen for some time now, so it won't be a surprise, but may be a little sad, as saying goodbye is never easy. Jupiter in your career house makes a wonderful trine with Pluto, which means that you can't put a foot wrong. Your career and image are blossoming.
Interesting. This one, I think, may have something there....
My horoscope from Astrocenter.com:
Venus in your own sign turns retrograde over the course of this week which means that you will be looking back at the past, and specifically at any emotional issues that may seem to arise out of the swamps to greet you once again. These will certainly involve people and problems that you might have thought you had laid to rest, only to discover that they are back to haunt you. Do something positive this time, you certainly will have long enough to do so. Be prepared to look inside yourself and see where your attitude in relationships could be more tolerant and understanding. If you make the corrections within yourself then everything will clear up on the outside as well. There are also some interesting issues arising in terms of your social life and current friends. Both Mercury and Mars in Virgo are squaring Saturn, which may temporarily bring about a situation in which you find yourself having to cut your losses as far as one friendship or perhaps group is concerned. You have probably known this was going to happen for some time now, so it won't be a surprise, but may be a little sad, as saying goodbye is never easy. Jupiter in your career house makes a wonderful trine with Pluto, which means that you can't put a foot wrong. Your career and image are blossoming.
Interesting. This one, I think, may have something there....
Random Memory
A girl sits in the coffee shop, reading something, a book, a newspaper...homework. She is drinking coffee and sitting by herself. She is a people watcher. She glances at the people who come in and stares at any intriguing character. At this time, there are only a few. Not many worth noting. Except for one. A bald-headed guy in a black trenchcoat. He's got handcuffs on his jacket. There's been times where he's been in front of her in line and she just stares at them. They're good for pondering. She wonders where his whip is because that would just complete the outfit. So would leather. She's not too fond of bald-headed guys though -- unless they're black. And dark black. Those are about the only guys in the world who can pull off the shaved head look. It looks prisonlike for white guys to have bald heads. Macho. And she doesn't like macho. But those handcuffs. She muses that they've been used on a few woman...worn like a badge of honor or conquest. That thought is amusing. She smiles at it, content that people can't read her mind. She loves pondering and the moments to ponder. She has no idea why she feels the urge to stare at him. Maybe it's the fact that he's wearing all black, has handcuffs on his coat, and has squinty eyes. He looks a little tough. She also has seen him with a hat. That's the part where she wonders just what kind of look he's trying to accomplish. Tough Guy. Ooooo. But at least it's tasteful, unlike the teenyboppers who like to wear next to nothing. Slut as a fashion statement always annoyed her. This guy just looked threatening. But the handcuffs always made her smile. She muses that they could be an open invitation for, uh, the spicier side of life. Of course, there's no other reason to wear them....
A girl sits in the coffee shop, reading something, a book, a newspaper...homework. She is drinking coffee and sitting by herself. She is a people watcher. She glances at the people who come in and stares at any intriguing character. At this time, there are only a few. Not many worth noting. Except for one. A bald-headed guy in a black trenchcoat. He's got handcuffs on his jacket. There's been times where he's been in front of her in line and she just stares at them. They're good for pondering. She wonders where his whip is because that would just complete the outfit. So would leather. She's not too fond of bald-headed guys though -- unless they're black. And dark black. Those are about the only guys in the world who can pull off the shaved head look. It looks prisonlike for white guys to have bald heads. Macho. And she doesn't like macho. But those handcuffs. She muses that they've been used on a few woman...worn like a badge of honor or conquest. That thought is amusing. She smiles at it, content that people can't read her mind. She loves pondering and the moments to ponder. She has no idea why she feels the urge to stare at him. Maybe it's the fact that he's wearing all black, has handcuffs on his coat, and has squinty eyes. He looks a little tough. She also has seen him with a hat. That's the part where she wonders just what kind of look he's trying to accomplish. Tough Guy. Ooooo. But at least it's tasteful, unlike the teenyboppers who like to wear next to nothing. Slut as a fashion statement always annoyed her. This guy just looked threatening. But the handcuffs always made her smile. She muses that they could be an open invitation for, uh, the spicier side of life. Of course, there's no other reason to wear them....
Nothing Short of Random
This from msn.com, about teenagers and shoplifting:
"89% of kids say they know other kids who shoplift."
WHY is that statistic in there? That doesn't tell anyone anything. It's a false "shocking statistic". Yeah, I knew people who shoplifted, but they were the same six people that the WHOLE school knew shoplifted. They made no secret of it. It was pretty obvious. "Oooo....My kid knows someone who shoplifted something." In fact, check out the handful of teens who shoplift versus the number of people in general that are arrested for shoplifting. Profiling? Teens aren't always that evil....
This from msn.com, about teenagers and shoplifting:
"89% of kids say they know other kids who shoplift."
WHY is that statistic in there? That doesn't tell anyone anything. It's a false "shocking statistic". Yeah, I knew people who shoplifted, but they were the same six people that the WHOLE school knew shoplifted. They made no secret of it. It was pretty obvious. "Oooo....My kid knows someone who shoplifted something." In fact, check out the handful of teens who shoplift versus the number of people in general that are arrested for shoplifting. Profiling? Teens aren't always that evil....
Saturday, October 05, 2002
Friday, October 04, 2002
What Labyrinth Charater are you most like?
brought to you by Quizilla
NOW I know why me and L get along....hehehehe. I'M STALKING YOU...I think. I don't really know. It's the cough medicine I tell you....
Alone
You'd never know it by the way she seemed engrossed in her book. Yeah, she's heard the "You'll ruin your eyesight" arguement about fifty times already, here at the bar. What she's really doing is waiting for someone. She knows it's too late for him to show up...he would have shown up to the coffee shop if he was going to be there at the bar. She refuses to think she's a typical girl; that when the guy she loves doesn't show up she goes through the same thoughts over and over...He isn't coming. I wish he were here. Where is he? Maybe he got stuck doing something else...and then it gets worse...Maybe he couldn't catch the bus. Yeah, that has to be it. Didn't have enough money. Was I supposed to pick him up? He didn't really say...or maybe he just assumed I will. But then, it did sound like he was going to meet me. Or...maybe he's playing a game. Or talking to someone else. Or maybe he went somewhere else...? Without me...? But he can do that. I have no right to know anything. Or maybe he forgot about me? Maybe he's mad that I snapped at him last night?...and a thousand and one other possiblities that grow more frantic as she tries to remain cool. Oh, not that she's insecure or anything...not that his smile and laugh make her happy or anything...not that she feels better if he is around or anything...silence and seperation feel like punishment. And what if it's my fault that I didn't get to see him? Then I would feel like a fool. And then she sighs, feeling a little more worthless with each minute, like she's an idiot, a moron, a simpleton...resigned to know that she's not that much of a draw for anyone, much less for him. She decides to order a beer and read her book...ironically, the book that he recommended to her. It's a good book, and momentarily it distracts her from thinking. But when she is done, she is back to thinking again. She decides that one beer is enough and that she should just go home and go to bed...and cry a little, for that is how his absence makes her feel. She gives credit to her friend when he says, "It's not an obligatory thing yet," and that makes her feel even lower than she did before...because that's what she stepped into and as quick as it started it could end, and that, my friends, is what depresses the poetic soul. Just wait, says a voice in her head, until the Most Beautiful Creature In The World shows up, and she's smart, and captures his attention. Remember, Bar Mouse, all you are to them is just a passing fancy, wasted time until they find what they're looking for. And you and us will be alone again...alone as we ever were before. Obligations? You failed at that...remember May 6th, 2001? And we will always amuse you to keep you happy, Echo Spots and Stars at Night, and hell, even Wicked. Nothing lasts forever...you can't possibly hope it can. You charmed the best. Now you've gone further...and he'll run away when he sees those infamous bad moods. No one could ever care enough to hear your bitter, sarcastic, cynical rants. The first line and no one's listening. We do. You'll always have us....
But she still hopes. Tomorrow will better. She'll see him then. She's sure of it. She'll go to bed and wake up feeling better. Really. She will....
You'd never know it by the way she seemed engrossed in her book. Yeah, she's heard the "You'll ruin your eyesight" arguement about fifty times already, here at the bar. What she's really doing is waiting for someone. She knows it's too late for him to show up...he would have shown up to the coffee shop if he was going to be there at the bar. She refuses to think she's a typical girl; that when the guy she loves doesn't show up she goes through the same thoughts over and over...He isn't coming. I wish he were here. Where is he? Maybe he got stuck doing something else...and then it gets worse...Maybe he couldn't catch the bus. Yeah, that has to be it. Didn't have enough money. Was I supposed to pick him up? He didn't really say...or maybe he just assumed I will. But then, it did sound like he was going to meet me. Or...maybe he's playing a game. Or talking to someone else. Or maybe he went somewhere else...? Without me...? But he can do that. I have no right to know anything. Or maybe he forgot about me? Maybe he's mad that I snapped at him last night?...and a thousand and one other possiblities that grow more frantic as she tries to remain cool. Oh, not that she's insecure or anything...not that his smile and laugh make her happy or anything...not that she feels better if he is around or anything...silence and seperation feel like punishment. And what if it's my fault that I didn't get to see him? Then I would feel like a fool. And then she sighs, feeling a little more worthless with each minute, like she's an idiot, a moron, a simpleton...resigned to know that she's not that much of a draw for anyone, much less for him. She decides to order a beer and read her book...ironically, the book that he recommended to her. It's a good book, and momentarily it distracts her from thinking. But when she is done, she is back to thinking again. She decides that one beer is enough and that she should just go home and go to bed...and cry a little, for that is how his absence makes her feel. She gives credit to her friend when he says, "It's not an obligatory thing yet," and that makes her feel even lower than she did before...because that's what she stepped into and as quick as it started it could end, and that, my friends, is what depresses the poetic soul. Just wait, says a voice in her head, until the Most Beautiful Creature In The World shows up, and she's smart, and captures his attention. Remember, Bar Mouse, all you are to them is just a passing fancy, wasted time until they find what they're looking for. And you and us will be alone again...alone as we ever were before. Obligations? You failed at that...remember May 6th, 2001? And we will always amuse you to keep you happy, Echo Spots and Stars at Night, and hell, even Wicked. Nothing lasts forever...you can't possibly hope it can. You charmed the best. Now you've gone further...and he'll run away when he sees those infamous bad moods. No one could ever care enough to hear your bitter, sarcastic, cynical rants. The first line and no one's listening. We do. You'll always have us....
But she still hopes. Tomorrow will better. She'll see him then. She's sure of it. She'll go to bed and wake up feeling better. Really. She will....
Tuesday, October 01, 2002
Find out what kind of driver you are!
I stick my toungue out at my cousin for this. She said I drive like my dad...and I'm not kidding you when the person riding shotgun can't look at the road when he's driving. It's just too scary.
take the which one of the trading spaces cast are you? quiz!
This is rather amusing. Just between me and you, my nonexistant audience, I watch "Trading Spaces" all the time. I'm addicted to that show.
What kind of Drug Addict are you?
Basically, your favorite phrase is "Kiss my ass." You are cynical, negative, and annoyed. Nothing amuses you or holds your attention. You don't care for much of anything in the world, but wouldn't mind a couple extra hours of sleep. Sometimes you just don't know how to deal with all the extra, pointless crap that life throws at you. Hang in there, kiddo. ;)
Randoms
"Traditional Romance" and "Tyler Durden"? Whoa. That sounds like one of the characters from a story I wrote. And it was a male character to boot. Hehehehe. Maybe I wrote about my male side? The concept is rather amusing....
Oh, and the ozone layer is smaller this year than in years past. It's now down to its 1989 level. And it split into two seperate holes.
Maybe we won't all die a firey death after all. Damn. Just when I was getting the hot dogs ready....
"Traditional Romance" and "Tyler Durden"? Whoa. That sounds like one of the characters from a story I wrote. And it was a male character to boot. Hehehehe. Maybe I wrote about my male side? The concept is rather amusing....
Oh, and the ozone layer is smaller this year than in years past. It's now down to its 1989 level. And it split into two seperate holes.
Maybe we won't all die a firey death after all. Damn. Just when I was getting the hot dogs ready....
Monday, September 30, 2002
Nothing New
So the alter egos emerge. Hehehehe. I'm just sure that I could have a blog for each one. Hehehehe. Well, except for the alter egos labeled "Bar Personalities". Those are strictly for the bar. I wouldn't dare try it anywhere else. That's the underground personalities to do things like get beer from unsuspecting dolts who only think they're gonna get laid, getting guys drunk so that I can bat my eyes at them and get laid, and, of course, the infamous Bar Mouse, replaced by the Big Bad Bar Mouse if I decide to kick people out of the bar. And then people tell me that they're worried about me. I look at it as a game that requires skill and lots of booze. Like playing "Mindtrap" and taking a shot for each correct answer. The difference is that I get laid. My strategies haven't always worked and they don't work for everyone. I like to have sex. A lot. Like, if I could have it every day, I would. Sometimes that means bellying up to guys at the bar.
Except that I'm running into a problem. There's only one person right now that I, uh, would want to, uh, do that every day with. And I really don't want to try batting my eyes at any other guy. In fact, I don't feel like doing that because of that one person I'd rather spend oodles of time with. If it's not him, then it's no one. But that's just the way I am...I prefer intense personal relationships over half-assed "friendships". Friends with benefits? Ha! Only if it's health and dental insurance. And if the "L" word's involved, there's more to it than friends with benefits. And before I dig my hole deeper, I'll think I'll get off my soapbox.
You know, sometimes I wish for things in my head but I lack the ability to say anything about it. And then it ends up here on my blog. I hate being a writer...it's definately a real-life liability.
So the alter egos emerge. Hehehehe. I'm just sure that I could have a blog for each one. Hehehehe. Well, except for the alter egos labeled "Bar Personalities". Those are strictly for the bar. I wouldn't dare try it anywhere else. That's the underground personalities to do things like get beer from unsuspecting dolts who only think they're gonna get laid, getting guys drunk so that I can bat my eyes at them and get laid, and, of course, the infamous Bar Mouse, replaced by the Big Bad Bar Mouse if I decide to kick people out of the bar. And then people tell me that they're worried about me. I look at it as a game that requires skill and lots of booze. Like playing "Mindtrap" and taking a shot for each correct answer. The difference is that I get laid. My strategies haven't always worked and they don't work for everyone. I like to have sex. A lot. Like, if I could have it every day, I would. Sometimes that means bellying up to guys at the bar.
Except that I'm running into a problem. There's only one person right now that I, uh, would want to, uh, do that every day with. And I really don't want to try batting my eyes at any other guy. In fact, I don't feel like doing that because of that one person I'd rather spend oodles of time with. If it's not him, then it's no one. But that's just the way I am...I prefer intense personal relationships over half-assed "friendships". Friends with benefits? Ha! Only if it's health and dental insurance. And if the "L" word's involved, there's more to it than friends with benefits. And before I dig my hole deeper, I'll think I'll get off my soapbox.
You know, sometimes I wish for things in my head but I lack the ability to say anything about it. And then it ends up here on my blog. I hate being a writer...it's definately a real-life liability.
Saturday, September 28, 2002
Sorry about that last post. I did have a point but then the poetic creature took over. Not that I mind her or anything, but she can pop up at the worst moments. Besides, the point I was going to make was pretty dull anyway. I think everyone needs a poetic muse to liven up their day. I just have to make sure she knows her blog is Crazy Girl In Crazy World. Sometimes she gets a little confused about those things. Hell, even I get a little confused about those things. And once you let her out of the cage, it's really hard to put her back in. I have to stop writing rhymes in my blog...that's when she pops up out of nowhere and asks in an ever so sweet-but-demanding tone, "Are you writing poetry? Can I write some?" (Imagine the sweetest puppy dog look you can. How can I resist?)
I hate having alter egos. They get in the way sometimes.
I hate having alter egos. They get in the way sometimes.
Friday, September 27, 2002
Passages of Time
The yesteryear, the year before, and nothing seems to have changed but it all has. How is it that life turns in circles yet it seems that the circle is slightly off the center that it was on before? A year of this, a year of that, a year of such joy and heartache it all comes to an end. Life is a game, a game of chance, a game of skill, but mostly it's never played in such a way. If I make move A, how can I be so sure that move B will present itself? I loved you John for what you wanted to be to me yet I hated you because I knew it was all false. So many other warm bodies but no caring and what is wrong with the independant woman who seeks such warmth in dead of night at the bar? Society is wrong, we are who we are, imperfect and realisitc. I didn't want to care, I still don't want to, but it's hard when a man grabs your heart in the way that is most to your liking. He thinks he's evil but you know that it's not because you know what evil is and he does not have the heart to do it. Or maybe he does and he just hasn't yet. But evil of that sort is different because they're perfect, living in their perfect world entitles them to whatever they want, they notice not -- or maybe they do -- the wishes of those who they're intimate with. That is the evil, true evil that lives. But sweet evil is better because he can care. His evil is not so evil but is the evil of those who are intelligent enough and also keep their emotions. There are no regrets with the change of this sun and there are no harsh feelings anymore. These are replaced with bitter resignation even more so now than they ever were for the creature that lurks within begins to emerge from its hiding place knowing now what it must do to free the soul it once claimed. Oh, and this creature is beautifully ugly, with pale blue skin, dark-circled eyes, and black lips. Her sneer bradishes teeth covered in blood and her skeleton-like hands grip your throat. She does not want to kill you but she does want to get into your head. It is this creature that feels the pain and the joy of a thousand souls. This creature will lie and tell you she is not smart. This creature will use whatever power she had to convince you of all that she is not. Her costume is the skin of well-mannered young lady, elfish and shy with a sweet nature. Beware of this creature for she will sap you of your soul until there is nothing left to hold. But in the meantime, she smiles at her latest victim and licks her lips in anticipation....
The yesteryear, the year before, and nothing seems to have changed but it all has. How is it that life turns in circles yet it seems that the circle is slightly off the center that it was on before? A year of this, a year of that, a year of such joy and heartache it all comes to an end. Life is a game, a game of chance, a game of skill, but mostly it's never played in such a way. If I make move A, how can I be so sure that move B will present itself? I loved you John for what you wanted to be to me yet I hated you because I knew it was all false. So many other warm bodies but no caring and what is wrong with the independant woman who seeks such warmth in dead of night at the bar? Society is wrong, we are who we are, imperfect and realisitc. I didn't want to care, I still don't want to, but it's hard when a man grabs your heart in the way that is most to your liking. He thinks he's evil but you know that it's not because you know what evil is and he does not have the heart to do it. Or maybe he does and he just hasn't yet. But evil of that sort is different because they're perfect, living in their perfect world entitles them to whatever they want, they notice not -- or maybe they do -- the wishes of those who they're intimate with. That is the evil, true evil that lives. But sweet evil is better because he can care. His evil is not so evil but is the evil of those who are intelligent enough and also keep their emotions. There are no regrets with the change of this sun and there are no harsh feelings anymore. These are replaced with bitter resignation even more so now than they ever were for the creature that lurks within begins to emerge from its hiding place knowing now what it must do to free the soul it once claimed. Oh, and this creature is beautifully ugly, with pale blue skin, dark-circled eyes, and black lips. Her sneer bradishes teeth covered in blood and her skeleton-like hands grip your throat. She does not want to kill you but she does want to get into your head. It is this creature that feels the pain and the joy of a thousand souls. This creature will lie and tell you she is not smart. This creature will use whatever power she had to convince you of all that she is not. Her costume is the skin of well-mannered young lady, elfish and shy with a sweet nature. Beware of this creature for she will sap you of your soul until there is nothing left to hold. But in the meantime, she smiles at her latest victim and licks her lips in anticipation....
Sunday, September 22, 2002
Random Musings
My horoscope from Astrocenter.com:
Both the Sun and Mercury are now in Libra, and inhabiting the section of your chart associated with spirituality and mysticism. This is the time of the year when aspects of your life and your activities seem to wind down, ready for the start of a new cycle, when the Sun moves into your own sign. You might find that it is your inner processes that seem to hold your attention, more than your outer activities. This week, whilst Mercury is retrograde, you have a rare chance for real reflection and for discovering the inner causes for any major ongoing problems that might have bugged you for some time. You also have a chance to discover what you really feel about your life and what areas of it you might like to change. Although you might not make as much progress as you would like, when it come to administrative matters or necessary letters and phone calls, you will be able to go a long way in terms of your inner growth. Love is made more spectacular by the presence of Venus in your sign, which promises some great dates, especially as it makes a square to Jupiter. This is one time when you can really cut loose and enjoy a truly romantic and passionate few days.
Fall is always the time of year that I feel change. Of course, my birthday's in the fall. Seriously, though, it's the coldish/cold weather that makes me feel alive. Forget the sweltering summer. I love the chilly weather. I love the night in the fall. It seems so much creepier, so much more like night. "Here's to the night/no sunlight/the moonlight in the dark..." (One of my poems...hehehehe.) It makes me want to cast out the demons and run through the empty streets screaming and crying in utter unrelenting joy until I run out of breath and collapse happily tired on the pavement of my city...any city, for I love the cold concrete of the urban wasteland. I feel more poetic in the fall...and the solution to all of my problems lays just a beer and a poem away. Fall is the time when I write more poetry than any other time. Winter is when I revise them, over long periods of time and hot coffee. Winter is for longer projects. Forget New Year's resolutions; my resolutions are made in the fall. Leaves rustling, cold rain, warm coffee, down comforters...there's nothing like cold weather to bring comfort to a hot-blooded soul. This time is always the time of change for me. Sometimes it feels like I put on a different personality for awhile. Maybe it's the real me; maybe it's the person I want to become. At any rate, it's a change, and the changes that are made are lasting. I love the fall...only in the cold rain of fall do I feel the rain washing away all that was wrong with me...and I find the redemption that I long for.
My horoscope from Astrocenter.com:
Both the Sun and Mercury are now in Libra, and inhabiting the section of your chart associated with spirituality and mysticism. This is the time of the year when aspects of your life and your activities seem to wind down, ready for the start of a new cycle, when the Sun moves into your own sign. You might find that it is your inner processes that seem to hold your attention, more than your outer activities. This week, whilst Mercury is retrograde, you have a rare chance for real reflection and for discovering the inner causes for any major ongoing problems that might have bugged you for some time. You also have a chance to discover what you really feel about your life and what areas of it you might like to change. Although you might not make as much progress as you would like, when it come to administrative matters or necessary letters and phone calls, you will be able to go a long way in terms of your inner growth. Love is made more spectacular by the presence of Venus in your sign, which promises some great dates, especially as it makes a square to Jupiter. This is one time when you can really cut loose and enjoy a truly romantic and passionate few days.
Fall is always the time of year that I feel change. Of course, my birthday's in the fall. Seriously, though, it's the coldish/cold weather that makes me feel alive. Forget the sweltering summer. I love the chilly weather. I love the night in the fall. It seems so much creepier, so much more like night. "Here's to the night/no sunlight/the moonlight in the dark..." (One of my poems...hehehehe.) It makes me want to cast out the demons and run through the empty streets screaming and crying in utter unrelenting joy until I run out of breath and collapse happily tired on the pavement of my city...any city, for I love the cold concrete of the urban wasteland. I feel more poetic in the fall...and the solution to all of my problems lays just a beer and a poem away. Fall is the time when I write more poetry than any other time. Winter is when I revise them, over long periods of time and hot coffee. Winter is for longer projects. Forget New Year's resolutions; my resolutions are made in the fall. Leaves rustling, cold rain, warm coffee, down comforters...there's nothing like cold weather to bring comfort to a hot-blooded soul. This time is always the time of change for me. Sometimes it feels like I put on a different personality for awhile. Maybe it's the real me; maybe it's the person I want to become. At any rate, it's a change, and the changes that are made are lasting. I love the fall...only in the cold rain of fall do I feel the rain washing away all that was wrong with me...and I find the redemption that I long for.
Saturday, September 21, 2002
And It Continues...
More drama. This is evil stuff. People harassing other people...I'm afraid that someone's going to get violent. Shades of before...things that have happened to other friends. I speak from experience and knowledge. This is horrible, and thing of it is, I wish they'd all go away so that I could sit in my coffee shop and read and write and drink coffee in peace. They don't understand that they're just as annoying as the person they're harassing. They don't understand that they have no right to tell anyone what to do/where to go...because if they think that, then apparently the same thing does not apply to them, that they're allowed to go and do whatever they want while telling other people what to do/where to go. I've got a suggestion for them: HELL! They can go there and sit 'n' spin on a flame for all I care. I never considered them my friends. I never really liked them to begin with. I wanted them gone the minute that I realized that they're foolish and stupid. Their very presence, at the very least, irked me. At worst, I wanted them gone. But no, I didn't harass them. You see...they're the popular people. I can't do that to them. But they can very well do it to someone else...and I don't want to wait around for my turn. I really don't. And no, I don't want to be friends with those kind of people because they may be sweet and innocent, but one day they turn on you and not only are you left wondering why they did it, you're also left no friends because no one will take your side. Forget that. I'm above such idiocy. I'm above them...I live in my own reality that is much easier to deal with...judgement lays in the hands of God. While there may be evil Christians out there, I'm not one of them, and I'm glad for my faith. There's a lot of things I really don't have to worry about that other people apparently do. I've left my mind for other imaginative things. Forget them. The only problem is that now I can't go to my coffee shop when I really want to. I have to go during the day now. Oh well...I've done that before....
More drama. This is evil stuff. People harassing other people...I'm afraid that someone's going to get violent. Shades of before...things that have happened to other friends. I speak from experience and knowledge. This is horrible, and thing of it is, I wish they'd all go away so that I could sit in my coffee shop and read and write and drink coffee in peace. They don't understand that they're just as annoying as the person they're harassing. They don't understand that they have no right to tell anyone what to do/where to go...because if they think that, then apparently the same thing does not apply to them, that they're allowed to go and do whatever they want while telling other people what to do/where to go. I've got a suggestion for them: HELL! They can go there and sit 'n' spin on a flame for all I care. I never considered them my friends. I never really liked them to begin with. I wanted them gone the minute that I realized that they're foolish and stupid. Their very presence, at the very least, irked me. At worst, I wanted them gone. But no, I didn't harass them. You see...they're the popular people. I can't do that to them. But they can very well do it to someone else...and I don't want to wait around for my turn. I really don't. And no, I don't want to be friends with those kind of people because they may be sweet and innocent, but one day they turn on you and not only are you left wondering why they did it, you're also left no friends because no one will take your side. Forget that. I'm above such idiocy. I'm above them...I live in my own reality that is much easier to deal with...judgement lays in the hands of God. While there may be evil Christians out there, I'm not one of them, and I'm glad for my faith. There's a lot of things I really don't have to worry about that other people apparently do. I've left my mind for other imaginative things. Forget them. The only problem is that now I can't go to my coffee shop when I really want to. I have to go during the day now. Oh well...I've done that before....
Monday, September 16, 2002
Ordinary
For the past two days when I've walked into my coffee shop, I've been bombarded by soooo much drama that I think I'm going to make a tent of folders and yell, "LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE!" to anyone who comes within spitting distance (7 feet, in case you want to know) of me. I am hanging around a bunch of adults who act like twelve year olds and it's really annoying. I mean, I may act like that on occasion, but it's always for silliness and not when it comes to serious things. So now I'm going to make a serious effort not to snap on anyone and at least try not to talk to anyone. Grr. People. Why do they always have to ruin my fun?
For the past two days when I've walked into my coffee shop, I've been bombarded by soooo much drama that I think I'm going to make a tent of folders and yell, "LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE!" to anyone who comes within spitting distance (7 feet, in case you want to know) of me. I am hanging around a bunch of adults who act like twelve year olds and it's really annoying. I mean, I may act like that on occasion, but it's always for silliness and not when it comes to serious things. So now I'm going to make a serious effort not to snap on anyone and at least try not to talk to anyone. Grr. People. Why do they always have to ruin my fun?
Saturday, September 14, 2002
The Eleventh
Oh beautiful for spacious skies over NYC, over Manhattan. The train rolled up to our final stop: World Trade Center. The underground mall was interesting but like a thousand other malls anywhere else. Just another collection of shops. We practically raced to the ticket line so that we could get tickets to the observation deck. Waiting in line...I looked out at the street. Busy. Full of people. One couldn't help remembering the bombing in the parking garage. "So what got destroyed?" I asked and my guide told me of the aftermath. "People moved out...some of the local networks broadcast from the other tower and when the bomb went off, several stations were blacked out." Chitchat as we waited, as we came upon the "metal detectors". "You know," I said nervously, "those don't look very well made. They look like they're from Radio Shack." That elicited a chuckle. "I don't feel very secure," I remarked with particular uneasiness. "Someone could be hiding a bomb on their person, or in their camera. Look at that person over there...they have a ton of camera equipment, and all they're doing is just looking in. They're not really searching anything." "Yeah," my guide agreed. "I feel the same way." And suddenly, I felt claustraphobic. What if a bomb went off? We'd die. Please dear God, I said in my head, don't let anything happen today. I have this feeling that something bad's gonna happen. Please let it not be today. If it has to happen, let it be tomorrow. Or, at the very least, not while I'm here in the building. And away we went to the top floor. A thousand and one pictures. Of me. Of my guide. Of NYC. There was a restaurant there. "This is better than the Sears Tower," I said. "A bit more classy. The last time we went there, it looked a bit ghetto." My guide chuckled. "Yeah," he said. "It was pretty bad. This definately is better than that. Let's go to the roof." And I looked at him in amazment: "You can go on the roof?" I asked in awe. "Sure," he replied. And one escalator ride later, we were out in the open air. It took my breath away. Miles and miles of New York lay before us. The Statue of Liberty was the size of an ant. "Look how small it is!" I said. "Where is your house from here?" I jokingly asked. "Over that way," my guide said. And then: "Wow...look at those planes. They're flying lower than where we are." That fear again. What if one of them crashed into the tower we were standing on? Stop that, I told myself, you don't have to imagine all of this doom and gloom. But I was uneasy when I looked out at midtown Manhattan: "Wow. These buildings are pretty unprotected. I mean, look at all the other buildings...there really isn't any other tall building in this area. Wow." But then there were the boats on the water, the guy trying to speak English and talk with us (Him: "My English is not so good...." Us: "Well, you're doing a pretty good job...."), the wonder of being up so high. It was beautiful. It was majestic. "This is the perfect place to bring me," I told my guide. "Remember when you said, 'I want you to take me to somewhere in New York that you wanted to take the person that you loved and would spend the rest of your life with'?" he asked. "Yeah," I replied. "This is it," he said. And we kissed and looked out over the city for awhile, not saying a word but saying everything. "We should go soon," I said. "But I don't want to leave. I want to stay up here forever and watch the sunset and the lights go on in the city." With regret, we left shortly after. We were hungry. We were tired. It would always be there, to be seen another year. We hung out on the square. There was a jazz concert. We watched a pigeon hobbling along ("Fat-ass bird," I remarked to it and proceeded to chase it). I took a picture of the building while standing right next to it, looking straight up...for a friend, who has a fear of very large things. The sheer enormity of the buildings would have freaked her out. All of the souvenirs that I purchased for myself, friends, and family came from the kiosk right in front of the World Trade Center. With reluctance, we moved on, going home for dinner, onto other sites to see.
Less than a month later, they were gone. Planes rammed into them. Collapsed. I stood in front of the TV, crying and yelling, "WHY DIDN'T THEY KNOW?" As a taxpayer, I want our government to spend money where it is needed. It was no secret that our intelligence was horrible...and underpaid. Field agents? I don't give a damn how much it is, if that's what's needed, then dammit, they should pay for them. Forget about a missle defense system...what good is it going to do with a bunch of guys and some planes? War in Iraq? Saddam isn't going to live forever. And whatever weapons he can build wouldn't cause so much as a scratch on us. We only have to keep an eye on him...he's not going to attack us. We don't really have to worry about him. But this is what happens when the war and fear mongerers spew their bile to Americans and we Americans lap it up. This is what happens when we are complacent. This is what happens when we ignore the world and the dangers that lurk within it. This is what happens when we think we're still the policemen of the world and the world has drastically changed. This is what happens when Americans don't demand sound foreign policy from their leaders...when the focus is on personality and sex and everything else...when we just don't care about those people over there. Yeah, well, those people have enough money and clout to gather a few operatives together to crash planes into buildings. Those people are fighting over water rights, human rights, the right not to be oppressed. After Regan, no one really knew what to do. The Elder Bush had it easy...he had a war. Clinton was very inconsistent in his foreign policy, especially when it came to international conflict. And King George? I think they were wrong when they applied the Wag the Dog concept to Clinton. I think it applies more to Dub the Shrub. Clinton had to do something in the Baltics (even though it wasn't enough and too little too late). But now the Shrub is trying to create support for a war he wants to wage even though there's no damn good reason to do it. (Election stealing? Enron? Administration's ties -- neck deep, by the way -- to Enron? I smell a scandal....) In fact, that concept applies to the Elder Bush...remember the propaganda of the Gulf War? The war was over before anyone realized that it wasn't true. And we had been leaning into a serious recession. Give it some thought. And then we can't imagine that the world dislikes us? We're not paying enough attention where we need to...we're not helping the people we need to...we're not waking up to the fact that we're in a different world now and that we have to come up with a better plan of action. This is what happens when we don't care. I care. I want you to care. In fact, I not only want you to care, but I want you to be as informed as I am and care very deeply about what is going on. Why would I want that?
Because the one special place that the love of his life had asked him to take her to as a surprise is now nothing but a gigantic pile of rubble and bones, forever lost in the skyline of Manhattan, to exist only in pictures and memories.
A symbol of love, in ruins. Maybe it was foreshadowing. Maybe it was coincidence. But just the same, it hurts.
I loved the World Trade Center. I loved him. And he knew me -- and himself -- so well that that had been the perfect spot.
He can't even go back there with his new love and share that experience with her. It was wasted on me. I can't go back and remember that time and have it be over. I can't go back and feel the cool air and the quiet of being up that high. And for what? Oil? Greed? I am utterly and completely pissed now. Before I was just cynical. Now I'm really angry. How many more buildings, how many more lives, will be destroyed before this nightmare is over? Why don't we stop calling for blood and call for viable and sensible solutions instead? We should take action...but that doesn't always mean war. Now is the time to demand that our leaders grow up...and that we, as a nation, grow up. The world around us has changed. Now's the time to start acting like it.
Oh beautiful for spacious skies over NYC, over Manhattan. The train rolled up to our final stop: World Trade Center. The underground mall was interesting but like a thousand other malls anywhere else. Just another collection of shops. We practically raced to the ticket line so that we could get tickets to the observation deck. Waiting in line...I looked out at the street. Busy. Full of people. One couldn't help remembering the bombing in the parking garage. "So what got destroyed?" I asked and my guide told me of the aftermath. "People moved out...some of the local networks broadcast from the other tower and when the bomb went off, several stations were blacked out." Chitchat as we waited, as we came upon the "metal detectors". "You know," I said nervously, "those don't look very well made. They look like they're from Radio Shack." That elicited a chuckle. "I don't feel very secure," I remarked with particular uneasiness. "Someone could be hiding a bomb on their person, or in their camera. Look at that person over there...they have a ton of camera equipment, and all they're doing is just looking in. They're not really searching anything." "Yeah," my guide agreed. "I feel the same way." And suddenly, I felt claustraphobic. What if a bomb went off? We'd die. Please dear God, I said in my head, don't let anything happen today. I have this feeling that something bad's gonna happen. Please let it not be today. If it has to happen, let it be tomorrow. Or, at the very least, not while I'm here in the building. And away we went to the top floor. A thousand and one pictures. Of me. Of my guide. Of NYC. There was a restaurant there. "This is better than the Sears Tower," I said. "A bit more classy. The last time we went there, it looked a bit ghetto." My guide chuckled. "Yeah," he said. "It was pretty bad. This definately is better than that. Let's go to the roof." And I looked at him in amazment: "You can go on the roof?" I asked in awe. "Sure," he replied. And one escalator ride later, we were out in the open air. It took my breath away. Miles and miles of New York lay before us. The Statue of Liberty was the size of an ant. "Look how small it is!" I said. "Where is your house from here?" I jokingly asked. "Over that way," my guide said. And then: "Wow...look at those planes. They're flying lower than where we are." That fear again. What if one of them crashed into the tower we were standing on? Stop that, I told myself, you don't have to imagine all of this doom and gloom. But I was uneasy when I looked out at midtown Manhattan: "Wow. These buildings are pretty unprotected. I mean, look at all the other buildings...there really isn't any other tall building in this area. Wow." But then there were the boats on the water, the guy trying to speak English and talk with us (Him: "My English is not so good...." Us: "Well, you're doing a pretty good job...."), the wonder of being up so high. It was beautiful. It was majestic. "This is the perfect place to bring me," I told my guide. "Remember when you said, 'I want you to take me to somewhere in New York that you wanted to take the person that you loved and would spend the rest of your life with'?" he asked. "Yeah," I replied. "This is it," he said. And we kissed and looked out over the city for awhile, not saying a word but saying everything. "We should go soon," I said. "But I don't want to leave. I want to stay up here forever and watch the sunset and the lights go on in the city." With regret, we left shortly after. We were hungry. We were tired. It would always be there, to be seen another year. We hung out on the square. There was a jazz concert. We watched a pigeon hobbling along ("Fat-ass bird," I remarked to it and proceeded to chase it). I took a picture of the building while standing right next to it, looking straight up...for a friend, who has a fear of very large things. The sheer enormity of the buildings would have freaked her out. All of the souvenirs that I purchased for myself, friends, and family came from the kiosk right in front of the World Trade Center. With reluctance, we moved on, going home for dinner, onto other sites to see.
Less than a month later, they were gone. Planes rammed into them. Collapsed. I stood in front of the TV, crying and yelling, "WHY DIDN'T THEY KNOW?" As a taxpayer, I want our government to spend money where it is needed. It was no secret that our intelligence was horrible...and underpaid. Field agents? I don't give a damn how much it is, if that's what's needed, then dammit, they should pay for them. Forget about a missle defense system...what good is it going to do with a bunch of guys and some planes? War in Iraq? Saddam isn't going to live forever. And whatever weapons he can build wouldn't cause so much as a scratch on us. We only have to keep an eye on him...he's not going to attack us. We don't really have to worry about him. But this is what happens when the war and fear mongerers spew their bile to Americans and we Americans lap it up. This is what happens when we are complacent. This is what happens when we ignore the world and the dangers that lurk within it. This is what happens when we think we're still the policemen of the world and the world has drastically changed. This is what happens when Americans don't demand sound foreign policy from their leaders...when the focus is on personality and sex and everything else...when we just don't care about those people over there. Yeah, well, those people have enough money and clout to gather a few operatives together to crash planes into buildings. Those people are fighting over water rights, human rights, the right not to be oppressed. After Regan, no one really knew what to do. The Elder Bush had it easy...he had a war. Clinton was very inconsistent in his foreign policy, especially when it came to international conflict. And King George? I think they were wrong when they applied the Wag the Dog concept to Clinton. I think it applies more to Dub the Shrub. Clinton had to do something in the Baltics (even though it wasn't enough and too little too late). But now the Shrub is trying to create support for a war he wants to wage even though there's no damn good reason to do it. (Election stealing? Enron? Administration's ties -- neck deep, by the way -- to Enron? I smell a scandal....) In fact, that concept applies to the Elder Bush...remember the propaganda of the Gulf War? The war was over before anyone realized that it wasn't true. And we had been leaning into a serious recession. Give it some thought. And then we can't imagine that the world dislikes us? We're not paying enough attention where we need to...we're not helping the people we need to...we're not waking up to the fact that we're in a different world now and that we have to come up with a better plan of action. This is what happens when we don't care. I care. I want you to care. In fact, I not only want you to care, but I want you to be as informed as I am and care very deeply about what is going on. Why would I want that?
Because the one special place that the love of his life had asked him to take her to as a surprise is now nothing but a gigantic pile of rubble and bones, forever lost in the skyline of Manhattan, to exist only in pictures and memories.
A symbol of love, in ruins. Maybe it was foreshadowing. Maybe it was coincidence. But just the same, it hurts.
I loved the World Trade Center. I loved him. And he knew me -- and himself -- so well that that had been the perfect spot.
He can't even go back there with his new love and share that experience with her. It was wasted on me. I can't go back and remember that time and have it be over. I can't go back and feel the cool air and the quiet of being up that high. And for what? Oil? Greed? I am utterly and completely pissed now. Before I was just cynical. Now I'm really angry. How many more buildings, how many more lives, will be destroyed before this nightmare is over? Why don't we stop calling for blood and call for viable and sensible solutions instead? We should take action...but that doesn't always mean war. Now is the time to demand that our leaders grow up...and that we, as a nation, grow up. The world around us has changed. Now's the time to start acting like it.
Sunday, September 08, 2002
Just Another Nugget
My horoscope from Astrocenter.com:
Mercury will move into its retrograde phase by the end of the week, so make the most of the early part to get important documents, vital administrative tasks and urgent contracts out of the way. Once this planet has changed direction you can expect delays in association with letters, email, phone calls, computers, cars and other office machinery. But the other point that you need to know about is that because it is retrograde in Libra, people will also find it a lot more difficult to make up their minds and to stick to any decisions they have already made. So expect to find yourself in frustrating circumstances at times, due to others being uncertain of what they really want. Your finances are set to improve, largely due to the improvement in your public profile. This is certainly having a beneficial effect. Venus, your planet of love has moved into your sign, so you are even more magnetically attractive than normal. You ooze charisma and can twist the most unpersuasive of people around your little finger. Make good use of this space of time. You could be the catalyst in an interesting development at work that involves an expansive new move - go with your gut instinct on this one.
Frustrated? I always am. By work? You bet. Office machinery taking revenge? I know that the one fax machine has it in for me. It would be no surprise. Mangnetically attractive? Only if I spouted horns and wings and my skin paled to a nice shade of blue. But then again, that's how I'm feeling lately...ugliness is the most attractive. Oh well. Hopefully it'll get me beer....
My horoscope from Astrocenter.com:
Mercury will move into its retrograde phase by the end of the week, so make the most of the early part to get important documents, vital administrative tasks and urgent contracts out of the way. Once this planet has changed direction you can expect delays in association with letters, email, phone calls, computers, cars and other office machinery. But the other point that you need to know about is that because it is retrograde in Libra, people will also find it a lot more difficult to make up their minds and to stick to any decisions they have already made. So expect to find yourself in frustrating circumstances at times, due to others being uncertain of what they really want. Your finances are set to improve, largely due to the improvement in your public profile. This is certainly having a beneficial effect. Venus, your planet of love has moved into your sign, so you are even more magnetically attractive than normal. You ooze charisma and can twist the most unpersuasive of people around your little finger. Make good use of this space of time. You could be the catalyst in an interesting development at work that involves an expansive new move - go with your gut instinct on this one.
Frustrated? I always am. By work? You bet. Office machinery taking revenge? I know that the one fax machine has it in for me. It would be no surprise. Mangnetically attractive? Only if I spouted horns and wings and my skin paled to a nice shade of blue. But then again, that's how I'm feeling lately...ugliness is the most attractive. Oh well. Hopefully it'll get me beer....
Friday, September 06, 2002
Excuses...I Mean, Reasons
"Well, I'm looking for a roommate. You could move in with me."
"How much is rent?"
(And he gives a figure that I can't very well afford.)
"Well, I only make [paltry amount here]. It's not bad, but I don't think I could."
"Oh."
"Besides, I've got lots of stuff. It won't all fit in that little room."
"I thinking of getting a new couch anyway...."
[Later in coversation]
"I would have to say no."
"Oh? Why?"
"I don't want to explain. I just wouldn't be able to. I have my reasons." One: clutter. Two: space. I need lots of it. Three: Moving in with him, even if it's just to help him temporarily with rent, even if it would only be a month or two, smacks a bit of commitment to me, given the way I feel about him. I am afraid of commitment. I will only go so far. Hell, I nearly got married. I know it's not a commitment (we're not even dating), but still, that idea is too weird for me. But on the other hand, it wouldn't be that bad. I wouldn't be afraid of anyone stealing anything from me. I would be able to drink on the fire escape and watch the sunset. I could start my nomadic ways now, live there for a bit and move on....
"Well, I'm looking for a roommate. You could move in with me."
"How much is rent?"
(And he gives a figure that I can't very well afford.)
"Well, I only make [paltry amount here]. It's not bad, but I don't think I could."
"Oh."
"Besides, I've got lots of stuff. It won't all fit in that little room."
"I thinking of getting a new couch anyway...."
[Later in coversation]
"I would have to say no."
"Oh? Why?"
"I don't want to explain. I just wouldn't be able to. I have my reasons." One: clutter. Two: space. I need lots of it. Three: Moving in with him, even if it's just to help him temporarily with rent, even if it would only be a month or two, smacks a bit of commitment to me, given the way I feel about him. I am afraid of commitment. I will only go so far. Hell, I nearly got married. I know it's not a commitment (we're not even dating), but still, that idea is too weird for me. But on the other hand, it wouldn't be that bad. I wouldn't be afraid of anyone stealing anything from me. I would be able to drink on the fire escape and watch the sunset. I could start my nomadic ways now, live there for a bit and move on....
Wednesday, September 04, 2002
Monday, September 02, 2002
Remembering
The fire. It now just seems like a distant memory of something that barely exists anymore. It's in the sirens. It's in the sound of feet thudding against tile floor. It's in the smell of wood burning. It's in the power lines. It's everywhere yet nowhere.
WTC. I was looking at my pictures from NYC. I remember the World Trade Center, standing there, all tall and everything. It was an awesome sight. I think I'm going to make my own tribute to September 11...watch for it on my website. It will be cool. I hope.
The fire. It now just seems like a distant memory of something that barely exists anymore. It's in the sirens. It's in the sound of feet thudding against tile floor. It's in the smell of wood burning. It's in the power lines. It's everywhere yet nowhere.
WTC. I was looking at my pictures from NYC. I remember the World Trade Center, standing there, all tall and everything. It was an awesome sight. I think I'm going to make my own tribute to September 11...watch for it on my website. It will be cool. I hope.
Sunday, September 01, 2002
Hoopla and Such
They're making a big fucking deal out of the September 11 anniversary. Of course, whatever dedications there will be, most will be fraught with commercialism and idiocy...no poignancy or symbolism or anything worth weight. That makes me angry. When the hell is everyone going to wake up? I'm trapped in a nightmare of crazy people who think that the rest of the world will one day run us and that we have the right to bomb whatever the hell we want. I hate to burst their bubble...BUT WE'RE NOT IN A COLD WAR ANYMORE! We shouldn't be the police force of the world...but here our government sits, itching to bomb the hell out of Iraq. Just because we don't like their leader doesn't give us the right to go ahead and kill lots and lots of people. I was reading a commemorative issue of a news magazine, and I saw the term "just war" used. Can't we get out of the middle ages? What the hell? We did what we needed to do, now it's time to move on. We should forget about Iraq unless they actually do something. And the "war" on terror? Doesn't anyone remember Vietnam? Or is it just relegated to a footnote in our history? Look at how well we've done on the "war" on poverty and on drugs. WHY DO YOU PEOPLE THINK IT'S GOING TO WORK? It's times like this that I just want to run away to Germany and live there.....
They're making a big fucking deal out of the September 11 anniversary. Of course, whatever dedications there will be, most will be fraught with commercialism and idiocy...no poignancy or symbolism or anything worth weight. That makes me angry. When the hell is everyone going to wake up? I'm trapped in a nightmare of crazy people who think that the rest of the world will one day run us and that we have the right to bomb whatever the hell we want. I hate to burst their bubble...BUT WE'RE NOT IN A COLD WAR ANYMORE! We shouldn't be the police force of the world...but here our government sits, itching to bomb the hell out of Iraq. Just because we don't like their leader doesn't give us the right to go ahead and kill lots and lots of people. I was reading a commemorative issue of a news magazine, and I saw the term "just war" used. Can't we get out of the middle ages? What the hell? We did what we needed to do, now it's time to move on. We should forget about Iraq unless they actually do something. And the "war" on terror? Doesn't anyone remember Vietnam? Or is it just relegated to a footnote in our history? Look at how well we've done on the "war" on poverty and on drugs. WHY DO YOU PEOPLE THINK IT'S GOING TO WORK? It's times like this that I just want to run away to Germany and live there.....
Friday, August 30, 2002
Useless
I told Mr. Blond a little of how I felt. Now I have to get up the courage to ask some more. Oh, and to ask his reaction to a few things I wrote about him. It still makes me feel useless. And I know damn well that all good things come to an end. I know it will happen...but I am impatient and I want to know when. Oh, well...
I told Mr. Blond a little of how I felt. Now I have to get up the courage to ask some more. Oh, and to ask his reaction to a few things I wrote about him. It still makes me feel useless. And I know damn well that all good things come to an end. I know it will happen...but I am impatient and I want to know when. Oh, well...
Monday, August 26, 2002
Some Wisdom
Another day, another beer, and how would it feel, if you weren't there anymore?
I feel like screaming in an echo chamber. I feel like crying so hard I barf. I feel like hiding in the forest. I feel like running away. And it's all for you...all for the pain that I drive myself to when I think of how I feel about you...or maybe I'm just thinking of myself in relation to your soul. I have a million and one questions to ask and a million and one statements to make and I just can't muster up the courage to tell you how I feel about anything. Didn't you know that's reserved for those few who've earned the privilege to hear me speak my mind? It's too soon for flowers and hopes, and never for me, this I am sure of. You speak of things that confuse you and cause conflict but those are things that I've mulled over and forgotten years ago. How can this be? It's the wisdom I tell you. So I will drive you to distraction, I will point the pretty girls your way, until you don't notice me anymore. This is how I have to be for I deserve nothing. Oh, I can love but I'm not one to be loved...it depends on how many hoops you want to jump through. Ten, twenty, thirty? A thousand? I am patient and I can wait forever for you to leave my presence, I will encourage it, I will throw nails in the road to puncture the tires. To know what it is to love me is to know the feeling of being hit in the chest with a truck. I do not put up walls; I carefully construct mazes that twist and wind and ultimately lead you back to point A. To love me is to be in a race of endurance...I will never give up this or miss an opportunity to disappoint, dismay, cause dislike. If you don't love me then I want you to hate me. A little sad, a little confused, but mostly bitter and dramatic. This is how I am. This is why. I must keep my distance lest I fall in love and think we mean something. So I will always drink up unhappy until I am alone, utterly alone, and there's no more hoops left in the closet.
Another day, another beer, and how would it feel, if you weren't there anymore?
I feel like screaming in an echo chamber. I feel like crying so hard I barf. I feel like hiding in the forest. I feel like running away. And it's all for you...all for the pain that I drive myself to when I think of how I feel about you...or maybe I'm just thinking of myself in relation to your soul. I have a million and one questions to ask and a million and one statements to make and I just can't muster up the courage to tell you how I feel about anything. Didn't you know that's reserved for those few who've earned the privilege to hear me speak my mind? It's too soon for flowers and hopes, and never for me, this I am sure of. You speak of things that confuse you and cause conflict but those are things that I've mulled over and forgotten years ago. How can this be? It's the wisdom I tell you. So I will drive you to distraction, I will point the pretty girls your way, until you don't notice me anymore. This is how I have to be for I deserve nothing. Oh, I can love but I'm not one to be loved...it depends on how many hoops you want to jump through. Ten, twenty, thirty? A thousand? I am patient and I can wait forever for you to leave my presence, I will encourage it, I will throw nails in the road to puncture the tires. To know what it is to love me is to know the feeling of being hit in the chest with a truck. I do not put up walls; I carefully construct mazes that twist and wind and ultimately lead you back to point A. To love me is to be in a race of endurance...I will never give up this or miss an opportunity to disappoint, dismay, cause dislike. If you don't love me then I want you to hate me. A little sad, a little confused, but mostly bitter and dramatic. This is how I am. This is why. I must keep my distance lest I fall in love and think we mean something. So I will always drink up unhappy until I am alone, utterly alone, and there's no more hoops left in the closet.
Sunday, August 25, 2002
Of Crack Whores And Other Things
I feel kind of flattered. The crack whore visited Mr. Blond the other day and he tried getting ahold of me to shoo her away. Maybe it's not all in my head after all.
I saw John at the Hipster Bar the other night. I actually talked to him. I hate full moons.
I had a beer with the Artist. It was sooo nice to talk to him seriously again. We had the best serious conversation last night. I miss him. He is a good friend and I love him to peices. I hope his life gets straightened out.
I found out something interesting about Beady Eyes. Heehhehehe. I'm going to call her bluff about something. Hehehehehe. I'm good at what I do.
I feel kind of flattered. The crack whore visited Mr. Blond the other day and he tried getting ahold of me to shoo her away. Maybe it's not all in my head after all.
I saw John at the Hipster Bar the other night. I actually talked to him. I hate full moons.
I had a beer with the Artist. It was sooo nice to talk to him seriously again. We had the best serious conversation last night. I miss him. He is a good friend and I love him to peices. I hope his life gets straightened out.
I found out something interesting about Beady Eyes. Heehhehehe. I'm going to call her bluff about something. Hehehehehe. I'm good at what I do.
Saturday, August 24, 2002
Just a Four AM Thought
I was reading the back of a tampon box. Right underneath the dire warnings about Toxic Shock Syndrome was a list of what a tampon was made out of (rolled cotton/polyester, cotton/polyester string, plastic). What did they choose to call this section? INGREDIENTS, of course. I am amused....
I was reading the back of a tampon box. Right underneath the dire warnings about Toxic Shock Syndrome was a list of what a tampon was made out of (rolled cotton/polyester, cotton/polyester string, plastic). What did they choose to call this section? INGREDIENTS, of course. I am amused....
Friday, August 23, 2002
What to realize...
I have just realized the hopelessness of my situation with Mr. Blond. Not that I didn't know it before or suspected that it would come to this, but I never dared to let myself think it.
I think I'm falling in love with him. I'm going to cry.
One
I don't say that "L" word lightly. Mostly my affection for anyone can be considered on the "like" level. That means I enjoy their company...and in the case of guys, I'd occasionally sleep with them. "Like" is a very comfortable place for me to be with someone; there are no strong emotional attachments, no real and binding obligations to that person. It's more of a friendship term. The Big "L", however, is a whole different story. It's "like", it's jealousy, it's being so comfortable it makes me nervous, it's insecurity, it's security, it's craziness, it's dreams, it's nightmares...it's everything. Because I don't just have emotions...I completely and intensely feel and live them. So to even express that the "L" word is a possibility takes a whole lot of courage. To actually say or think it requires the courage and trust that I don't readily give to myself, much less another human being.
Two
I'm trying to completely and totally convince myself that I'm not contemplating the "L" word. There's a funny thing that happens with me when that word comes up...I can find faults with people. Breezy infatuation doesn't lend itself to the time it takes to realize that someone is just a person with faults. But because this is me we're talking about, the "L" word only magnifies it. I refuse to think it. I can't think it: He's not my boyfriend...We're not dating...I'm not as interesting/intelligent as he is.... Because of these things, I have to stop myself from ever using that word to describe how I feel about him. He most likely does not feel the same way about me so I must remain silent so as not to look foolish and simple. It's also too intense to think about. I have to play calm and cool lest I do something so stupid that we couldn't be friends. It's happened before...twice. The first was my fault and I will suffer in silence because I don't have the courage to admit to my stupidity. The second wasn't my fault because one can't help how they feel about someone and it's only natural to warn them of what emotion is occurring. That was John. But John also figures into the first stupid thing I did. I don't just hate John; I hate myself for ever liking John. But it was more than "like". I refuse to go there...I should just stop thinking about it...which is hard, because once that "L" word appears, the torture begins anew.
Three
The "L" word makes me feel uncomfortable. I want to run and hide. My first reaction to this is to never speak to Mr. Blond again...to learn to ignore his presence (sound familiar?). It's not that I want to pretend he doesn't exist; I want him to pretend that I don't exist. No one in their right minds would love a crazy gargoyle like me. I'm downright ugly, mean, and cruel. (Yeah, that fault thing? I get that way about myself....) And the bitch of it is that this has absolutely nothing to do with the other person. It's all me and my horrible negative feelings. I feel so stupid when I get the feeling that the "L" word is possible...like I should know better than that or something. (Soundgarden: "Love's for everyone who isn't me".) I don't want to do this though. I don't want to run and hide. I don't want to feel stupid. ("So, what'cha thinking?" -- If you only knew.) I don't want to be frozen in fear over the Big "L". But I am. I am scared, petrified, terrified...and I can't seem to shake it. I can't even discuss it with anyone because I get that scared. I feel like running. I feel like doing something that would force a total rejection. At least then I'd be able to deal with that...rejection. That's more comforting...that's the thing I know best and would rather deal with than the Big "L". But it's way too late to pretend to be trivial. I've gone too far to pretend to be the charming Bar Mouse. And I also hate myself for that...for putting myself into a corner like this. How did I get in this situation?
Bar Mouse. That's how. And it finally burned me.
I thought that I'd take a stab at Mr. Blond. It wasn't successful, of course, but it was worth a try. After all, if it didn't work, there would always be another. What did I have to loose? TS -- the one who was seventeen years older than me -- wasn't around as much and I was getting annoyed with his...opinions. I didn't quite believe the same things he did but since it wasn't going to get anywhere near serious (it was just a fling, after all), I wasn't going to express anything that smacked of my own opinion. So it eventually burned out, which I expected and didn't much care about. Time to move on and the target was Mr. Blond. A shot in the dark. Curse me for picking out a decent guy. A decent, intelligent, sweet, evil boy. I could care less that nothing happened. I was happy that there was a person who was actually smart. (Cosmic? Scary Liar? Beady Eyes? Cat Eyes?...the list goes on. Trivia is nice, but it doesn't take the place of real thought. That's why I liked drinking with the Artist. We were just friends, drinking and talking, no sex or anything. That was nice.) Curse me for being attracted to intelligence (and a black trenchcoat). I wanted to kiss him but didn't because, well, I genuninely liked him. And I know myself well enough that he would be a type I'd fall in love with, and that's not what I was after. I tried to pick up other guys and it just wasn't working. I wanted to get laid. But then I spent more and more time with Mr. Blond and now I'm in this quagmire. The sad thing about it -- what makes this so hopeless -- is that I've been wanting a serious relationship again and beginning to piece myself back together to do it. I wasn't expecting anything like this to happen. I wasn't thinking that I'd be falling into Love's trap this soon after deciding that dammit, I want a real boyfriend. But it's not real, I have to keep telling myself. (See number Two above.) It's just one of those quasi-dating relationships again. AGAIN! Did I not just swear those off? And from what I gather, he doesn't feel this way about me. That just compounds the hopelessness of all of this.
I just wonder when the moment of indecision becomes the moment of decision. Which side of the coin will it be....?
I have just realized the hopelessness of my situation with Mr. Blond. Not that I didn't know it before or suspected that it would come to this, but I never dared to let myself think it.
I think I'm falling in love with him. I'm going to cry.
One
I don't say that "L" word lightly. Mostly my affection for anyone can be considered on the "like" level. That means I enjoy their company...and in the case of guys, I'd occasionally sleep with them. "Like" is a very comfortable place for me to be with someone; there are no strong emotional attachments, no real and binding obligations to that person. It's more of a friendship term. The Big "L", however, is a whole different story. It's "like", it's jealousy, it's being so comfortable it makes me nervous, it's insecurity, it's security, it's craziness, it's dreams, it's nightmares...it's everything. Because I don't just have emotions...I completely and intensely feel and live them. So to even express that the "L" word is a possibility takes a whole lot of courage. To actually say or think it requires the courage and trust that I don't readily give to myself, much less another human being.
Two
I'm trying to completely and totally convince myself that I'm not contemplating the "L" word. There's a funny thing that happens with me when that word comes up...I can find faults with people. Breezy infatuation doesn't lend itself to the time it takes to realize that someone is just a person with faults. But because this is me we're talking about, the "L" word only magnifies it. I refuse to think it. I can't think it: He's not my boyfriend...We're not dating...I'm not as interesting/intelligent as he is.... Because of these things, I have to stop myself from ever using that word to describe how I feel about him. He most likely does not feel the same way about me so I must remain silent so as not to look foolish and simple. It's also too intense to think about. I have to play calm and cool lest I do something so stupid that we couldn't be friends. It's happened before...twice. The first was my fault and I will suffer in silence because I don't have the courage to admit to my stupidity. The second wasn't my fault because one can't help how they feel about someone and it's only natural to warn them of what emotion is occurring. That was John. But John also figures into the first stupid thing I did. I don't just hate John; I hate myself for ever liking John. But it was more than "like". I refuse to go there...I should just stop thinking about it...which is hard, because once that "L" word appears, the torture begins anew.
Three
The "L" word makes me feel uncomfortable. I want to run and hide. My first reaction to this is to never speak to Mr. Blond again...to learn to ignore his presence (sound familiar?). It's not that I want to pretend he doesn't exist; I want him to pretend that I don't exist. No one in their right minds would love a crazy gargoyle like me. I'm downright ugly, mean, and cruel. (Yeah, that fault thing? I get that way about myself....) And the bitch of it is that this has absolutely nothing to do with the other person. It's all me and my horrible negative feelings. I feel so stupid when I get the feeling that the "L" word is possible...like I should know better than that or something. (Soundgarden: "Love's for everyone who isn't me".) I don't want to do this though. I don't want to run and hide. I don't want to feel stupid. ("So, what'cha thinking?" -- If you only knew.) I don't want to be frozen in fear over the Big "L". But I am. I am scared, petrified, terrified...and I can't seem to shake it. I can't even discuss it with anyone because I get that scared. I feel like running. I feel like doing something that would force a total rejection. At least then I'd be able to deal with that...rejection. That's more comforting...that's the thing I know best and would rather deal with than the Big "L". But it's way too late to pretend to be trivial. I've gone too far to pretend to be the charming Bar Mouse. And I also hate myself for that...for putting myself into a corner like this. How did I get in this situation?
Bar Mouse. That's how. And it finally burned me.
I thought that I'd take a stab at Mr. Blond. It wasn't successful, of course, but it was worth a try. After all, if it didn't work, there would always be another. What did I have to loose? TS -- the one who was seventeen years older than me -- wasn't around as much and I was getting annoyed with his...opinions. I didn't quite believe the same things he did but since it wasn't going to get anywhere near serious (it was just a fling, after all), I wasn't going to express anything that smacked of my own opinion. So it eventually burned out, which I expected and didn't much care about. Time to move on and the target was Mr. Blond. A shot in the dark. Curse me for picking out a decent guy. A decent, intelligent, sweet, evil boy. I could care less that nothing happened. I was happy that there was a person who was actually smart. (Cosmic? Scary Liar? Beady Eyes? Cat Eyes?...the list goes on. Trivia is nice, but it doesn't take the place of real thought. That's why I liked drinking with the Artist. We were just friends, drinking and talking, no sex or anything. That was nice.) Curse me for being attracted to intelligence (and a black trenchcoat). I wanted to kiss him but didn't because, well, I genuninely liked him. And I know myself well enough that he would be a type I'd fall in love with, and that's not what I was after. I tried to pick up other guys and it just wasn't working. I wanted to get laid. But then I spent more and more time with Mr. Blond and now I'm in this quagmire. The sad thing about it -- what makes this so hopeless -- is that I've been wanting a serious relationship again and beginning to piece myself back together to do it. I wasn't expecting anything like this to happen. I wasn't thinking that I'd be falling into Love's trap this soon after deciding that dammit, I want a real boyfriend. But it's not real, I have to keep telling myself. (See number Two above.) It's just one of those quasi-dating relationships again. AGAIN! Did I not just swear those off? And from what I gather, he doesn't feel this way about me. That just compounds the hopelessness of all of this.
I just wonder when the moment of indecision becomes the moment of decision. Which side of the coin will it be....?
Sunday, August 18, 2002
Those Things To Say
Beady Eyes just doesn't get it. Neither does Cat Eyes. I don't understand what their problems are. First, a guy's looks have absolutely NOTHING to do with his personality. Second, if he looks good but he's a fucking jerk, then DON'T try to start a relationship with him. He's only good for trying to get into his pants. Third, sex does NOT equal anything...it's just sex. A physical reaction. It has nothing to do with love or like or anything other than horniness and getting laid. Granted, when it's with someone that you actually like, then it's rather pleasant and feels better than anything. But it is not the sum of a real honest to god relationship. Grr. Who are these emotional simpletons I hang out with? I'll never know.....
Beady Eyes just doesn't get it. Neither does Cat Eyes. I don't understand what their problems are. First, a guy's looks have absolutely NOTHING to do with his personality. Second, if he looks good but he's a fucking jerk, then DON'T try to start a relationship with him. He's only good for trying to get into his pants. Third, sex does NOT equal anything...it's just sex. A physical reaction. It has nothing to do with love or like or anything other than horniness and getting laid. Granted, when it's with someone that you actually like, then it's rather pleasant and feels better than anything. But it is not the sum of a real honest to god relationship. Grr. Who are these emotional simpletons I hang out with? I'll never know.....
Friday, August 16, 2002
Of Just Randomness...
I overheard a conversation in the bar the other night, when I was drinking alone. It was just after the incredible tale of Superhero Bartender who cornered a bunch of punks vandalizing a person's yard:
Woman: I don't get it.
Man: I'm asking how you feel about us.
W: What do you mean by that?
M: There's a word that describes it. Exclusitivity.
W: Oh. (Takes a sip of her drink. There's a moment of silence.) I like you a lot. I really like you.
(That's not what he asked, but that was an interesting answer.)
M: But how would you feel?
W: I'd be jealous. I'm the jealous type. That's because I like you. A lot.
M: So then what about us?
W: *sighs* I know what you're getting at. I don't know if I want to talk about it. Would it be great? Yeah, it would. But you have to understand that I have trouble trusting people enough with anything. Do I want that? Yes I do. Remember? I said I was tired of going home with other guys from the bar and that I was looking for a boyfriend. I was serious about that. The thing is, if that's not what you want, then I don't know how to react. You're asking me these things without telling me how you feel about them. So what then? We hint around until it becomes pointless? Or do we actually tell each other what our expectations are? I prefer to have a boyfriend, I would like it to be you, but if you just want to get in my pants, then just say so. I'm not stupid. I mean, of course I'll be hurt if you just want to get laid, because I do like you more than that, but if it's not that serious between us, then I have no rights to really say anything. Not my place. I don't get jealous very often and when I do, it more than makes up for what I treat with indifference. And this would make me jealous. So I'd back off so as not to offend you. But I don't know what you're intentions are when you ask me these things. Why don't you tell me what you're thinking about that?
But before I could hear the rest (I was bored, after all), Beady Eyes came in and sat down next to me. Oh, well, at least maybe I could squeeze somewhat of a poem out of that. Hell, I did when it was two people talking about honesty in serious tones to the point that you knew one was going to break up with the other. Sometimes the bar is rather amusing.
I overheard a conversation in the bar the other night, when I was drinking alone. It was just after the incredible tale of Superhero Bartender who cornered a bunch of punks vandalizing a person's yard:
Woman: I don't get it.
Man: I'm asking how you feel about us.
W: What do you mean by that?
M: There's a word that describes it. Exclusitivity.
W: Oh. (Takes a sip of her drink. There's a moment of silence.) I like you a lot. I really like you.
(That's not what he asked, but that was an interesting answer.)
M: But how would you feel?
W: I'd be jealous. I'm the jealous type. That's because I like you. A lot.
M: So then what about us?
W: *sighs* I know what you're getting at. I don't know if I want to talk about it. Would it be great? Yeah, it would. But you have to understand that I have trouble trusting people enough with anything. Do I want that? Yes I do. Remember? I said I was tired of going home with other guys from the bar and that I was looking for a boyfriend. I was serious about that. The thing is, if that's not what you want, then I don't know how to react. You're asking me these things without telling me how you feel about them. So what then? We hint around until it becomes pointless? Or do we actually tell each other what our expectations are? I prefer to have a boyfriend, I would like it to be you, but if you just want to get in my pants, then just say so. I'm not stupid. I mean, of course I'll be hurt if you just want to get laid, because I do like you more than that, but if it's not that serious between us, then I have no rights to really say anything. Not my place. I don't get jealous very often and when I do, it more than makes up for what I treat with indifference. And this would make me jealous. So I'd back off so as not to offend you. But I don't know what you're intentions are when you ask me these things. Why don't you tell me what you're thinking about that?
But before I could hear the rest (I was bored, after all), Beady Eyes came in and sat down next to me. Oh, well, at least maybe I could squeeze somewhat of a poem out of that. Hell, I did when it was two people talking about honesty in serious tones to the point that you knew one was going to break up with the other. Sometimes the bar is rather amusing.
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