Karma Payment Plan

2004-11-23T22:14:00.000-06:00

At this moment...

the sky is falling.

2004-11-23T21:22:00.000-06:00

Eat Your Surreal With A Fork

So, for a short time today I was driving around Houston with over one million dollars worth of art in the back seat of my craptacular car. My craptacular car being a ten year old Plymouth Sundance Duster with a broken window, no headliner, no radio, no air conditioner, and peeling paint, worth maybe about a thousand. It did only have one hubcap but I went to Target last night and bought some new shiny ones to put on. I could only describe it as surreal and paused, as I drove down Montrose at about 20 miles an hour, to ask myself, "Is this really my life??"

2004-11-08T23:53:00.000-06:00

Check this out y'all.....

2004-10-03T20:46:00.000-05:00

How rich are you? >>

I'm loaded.
It's official.
I'm the 488,419,118 richest person on earth!

2004-08-18T11:20:00.000-05:00

Daily Buddhist Wisdom

Motivation is very important, and thus my simple religion is love, respect for others, honesty: teachings that cover not only religion but also the fields of politics, economics, business, science, law, medicine - everywhere. With proper motivation these can help humanity...

-His Holiness the Dalai Lama

2004-08-18T11:04:00.000-05:00

Daily Buddhist Confusion

A monk asked, "What is Shouchu's sword?"
Shouchu said, "Why?"
The monk said, "This student wants to know."
Shouchu said, "Wrong!"

-Zen's Chinese Heritage

2004-08-16T22:48:00.000-05:00

Send 'em on in

Ok, so the news is that I'm joining a flat track ladies Roller Derby league that they're trying to get started here in Dallas. I need a moniker. I've thought maybe Bambi Bazooka, or Corporal Punishment, or Busty L'Amour. But I need more suggestions. I just haven't been able to come up with something that really sticks. Help?

2004-08-12T14:34:00.000-05:00

Further Buddhist Wisdom

I believe there is an important distinction to be made between religion and spirituality. Religion I take to be concerned with belief in the claims to salvation of one faith tradition or another-- an aspect of which is acceptance of some form of meta-physical or philosophical reality, including perhaps an idea of heaven or hell. Connected with this are religious teachings or dogma, ritual, prayers and so on. Spirituality I take to be concerned with those qualities of the human spirit-- such as love and compassion, patience, tolerance, forgiveness, contentment, a sense of responsibility, a sense of harmony, which bring happiness to both self and others.

-His Holiness the Dalai Lama

2004-08-12T14:31:00.000-05:00

Daily Buddhist Wisdom

Fools are happy when acquiring wealth; noble people find happiness in giving it all away. Lepers feel better when they scratch their sores, but note how the wise dread leprosy.

-Sakya Pandita, In Ordinary Wisdom

2004-08-03T22:13:00.000-05:00

Further Buddhist Wisdom

Even in the case of individuals, there is no possibility to feel happiness through anger. If in a difficult situation one becomes disturbed internally, overwhelmed by mental discomfort, then external things will not help at all. However, if despite external difficulties or problems, internally one's attitude is of love, warmth, and kindheartedness, then problems can be faced and accepted.

-His Holiness the Dalai Lama

2004-08-01T01:06:00.000-05:00

Daily Buddhist Confusion

A monk asked, 'If on the road one meets a person of the Way, how could one respond to that person with neither words nor silence?'

Daopi said, 'With kicks and punches.'

-Zen's Chinese Heritage

2004-07-30T14:59:00.000-05:00

Are you evil enough to eat a kitten?!?

So there was this huge storm the other day. I had been at a meeting and had to run out to my car through the deluge in which curtains of rain pounded down as a sign of the impending doom of the world . Driving back home was a carefully orchestrated maneuvering through flowing rivers of road, attempting to keep my car headed in the right direction.

I managed to make it home safely and without incident, despite the fogged and rain clogged window through which I could barely see, and checked the mail by the front door, and through the window I heard this pitiful distressed mewling. My instinctively protective nature kicked in and I found myself running outside, back into the rain, without thought of raincoat or umbrella, trying to figure out just what in the heck the noise was. At first, I couldn't decide if it was kittens or birds, but as I dove into the dripping bushes I could see the tiny, rain soaked body of a miniscule kitten, fur slicked to its sides, caught in the branches of the bush. I managed to drag her out and carried her back to the porch, which was shielded from the rain, as my roommate ran to get a box and a towel.

And then I heard more desperate shivering mewling and I plunged back in the bushes, but this time I couldn't find where the noise was coming from. After ten or so minutes of searching I finally dug deeply enough to see a kitten curled up against the porch of my neighbor, and so, soaking wet and rain dripping in my face, I lay down on my neighbor's porch (which had no protection from the pouring flood) and reached my arm down underneath the railing, twisting so I could rescue another tiny, wet body. I placed that one on my porch as well, after having completely frightened my roommate by sticking the kitten in her face in an attempt to keep it dry under her umbrella.

And what should I hear, but another frantic distressed cry, this one more quiet, weaker. I made another lunge into the bushes, and discovered yet one more, even smaller kitten huddled against the neighbor's porch and the wall of their apartment. So yet again I lay down on the porch and reached my arm under the railing to pull out the smallest kitten of all.

We placed them in the box and dried them off while trying to quiet their unhappiness and scolding the ghetto whore momma cat who keeps having babies under our house. The kittens were all tiny, barely a few weeks old, with their eyes and ears just hardly opened.

I felt like a hero. A soaking wet hero, but a hero, and it's such a good feeling to save these poor creatures from an almost certain death of drowning (the rain continued to poor into the next day and the mom had run off). I know it's nothing like being a firefighter or an EMT or a doctor, but something like that helps you to appreciate the kind of feelings they must get from doing their jobs, to understand what keeps them at such work which can be so dangerous and so draining.

In an uncertain period of my life where I'm not really sure what I'm doing or why or where I'm headed, doing something like that is reasssuringly definitive and clear. It makes me want to consider doing something else, some other job where the outcome can be seen and solidly felt. "What do you do?" and I could answer "I save lives." What if I became a fire fighter? Or something less dangerous, like a vet? The saving and healing of lives would be such a solid and substantial achievement. Nothing like art history...

We left some food out for the momma, and she came and took the kittens away again, which is better really because we would have needed to bottle feed them for weeks. But we're putting food out for her, and I'll be damned if I don't catch that cat and get her spayed by one of the local feral cat groups. I hope to maybe catch the kittens again when they're ready and get them to some safe homes if I can. Hopefully their story will end relatively happily.

2004-07-20T11:10:00.000-05:00

Your Daily Impossible to Understand Buddhist Wisdom

Ch'eng-t'ien was asked, 'How should I apply my mind twenty-four hours a day?' He replied, 'When chickens are cold, they roost in trees; when ducks are cold, they plunge into water.' The questioner said, 'Then I don't need cultivated realization, and won't pursue Buddhahood or Zen mastery.' Ch'eng-t'ien responded, 'You've saved half my effort.'

2004-07-15T15:09:00.000-05:00

I don't want to talk about what I'm feeling, but I feel like I have to express it somehow. It's not a nice feeling, let's put it that way.

2004-07-08T17:10:00.000-05:00

Huh...

You know, it's kinda funny...my poor fiance is known for being a bit of a weirdo. He says weird things, does weird things, and he's a total goofball. His roommate claims that he's the weirdest person his roommate knows (though his roommate sure could give him a run for his money).

My fiance on the other hand claims that I'm the weirdest person that he knows. Unfortunately for him, no one believes him because I'm that quiet shy girl you might never notice sitting in the corner. I have an inner weirdness that is rarely expressed except, basically, for when I'm around my fiance. So he knows the interior weirdness that I can't express (and I don't even express it fully to him. He just catches me sometimes), but no one else really does.

I kind of wish my weirdness wasn't so interior, that it was more expressive and outgoing and loud. Maybe I'd have more friends that way.

And maybe a fairy godmother in the form of a dog dressed in a purple tutu will step out from behind a bush on my way home and hit me over the head with his wish-granting bone.

2004-06-30T13:42:00.000-05:00

Who Will Go Waltzing Matilda With Me?

There have been a lot of introspective entries recently (relatively), and I'm thinking it might be because I'm no longer medicated. I don't know for sure though. In any case, I have found myself growing more morose and meditatively depressed over the past few months. I feel as if I'm struggling to hold a large wet blanket away from my face, which is trying to suffocate me.

That actually sounds worse than it really is. I'm not in a life or death struggle, just maintaining the tiring effort of holding the thing up. I'm juggling, and I'm at that point you get to when you've been juggling for a while and your arms are getting tired, and they're starting to shake a little bit, and it's becoming more and more difficult to keep the pattern.

2004-06-29T00:41:00.000-05:00

What kind of Superheroine are you?

Well, that's something for sure...

2004-06-07T15:24:00.000-05:00

And so it goes...

Well, it's final. That creepy feeling I've been getting from the registrars office where I applied for a job, the feeling that makes me feel like they're avoiding me has finally (at last!) blossomed into confirmation of what I feared. They gave the job to someone else, someone with more experience, so they say. And so it goes. I had been expecting it actually, because of the creepy feeling. I would have liked it if they had told me last week, but it's likely that they were avoiding me and hence that explains the creepy feeling. *sigh* Well, I guess into every life a little rain must fall, but I'm almost certain that I've had more than my fair share. I suppose I shouldn't have put so much hope into it. Yet one more affirmation that it is dangerous and qualifiably bad for your health to hope for good things to happen.

I did my best and now I'll just have to keep on with the applications to other areas. I had really hoped that I would be able to stay in Dallas though.

2004-05-13T16:50:00.000-05:00

Aha!

I think I figured something pretty major out. Part of my problem...ok, a large part...is that I don't trust anyone. I don't believe that there's anyone besides myself, except for one or two people, who will stand up for me, speak out for me, or support me.

A lot of these feelings I've been experiencing lately, all the anger and inadequacy, largely stem from that one simple fact. I spend so much time being subconciously worried that I'm going to be betrayed that I never let myself just relax. That must be why I find it so exhausting to meet new people, because I'm always on edge with them.

So, I need to learn how to trust people more. Anybody know of any exercises that can work to this purpose?

2004-05-12T15:48:00.000-05:00

I was born in...

SEPTEMBER:
Suave and compromising. Careful, cautious and
organized. Likes to point out people's mistakes. Likes to criticize.
Stubborn. Quiet but able to talk well. Calm and cool. Kind and sympathetic.
Concerned and detailed. Loyal but not always honest. Does work well. Very
confident. Sensitive. Thinking generous. Good memory. Clever and
knowledgeable. Loves to look for information. Must control oneself when criticizing.
Able to motivate oneself. Understanding. Fun to be around.
Secretive. Loves sports, leisure and traveling. Hardly shows emotions. Tends to
bottle up feelings. Very choosy, especially in relationships. Systematic.

What does your birth month say about you
brought to you by Quizilla

2004-05-11T16:22:00.000-05:00

I am Jane's Utter Sense of Rejection

The last two posts might explain this feeling that I'm feeling right now. I try to resist it, but there it is, plain as day, staring me in the face. Why does it seem like no one ever wants to hang out with me? I try to call people to hang out, but no one ever wants to, and certainly no one ever calls me except for my fiance.

I don't quite understand what's wrong with me. I don't know why I'm so completely unappealing to people. Or maybe I do, and the two posts previous to this explain everything with ample volume and clarity. I could list all the things in my personality that seem to drive people away...but do I really need to? It's all pretty clear isn't it?

I know I'll post this and then I'll feel completely guilty and self-absorbed and self-loathing for the self-absorbedness. Just like those last two times I posted...and all the times before that.

I feel guilty any time I try to explain myself. I feel guilty for even opening my mouth. I can't ever seem to say anything right, or encouraging, or funny, or attractive, or any of those other ways that enchant other people. I am strong, independent, intelligent, and honest. Unfortunately, while those seem to be valued qualities, they are not ones that make a person very well liked.

What in the world is wrong with me? Why can't I be different, better, funnier, more outgoing, and just generally more pleasant to be around? Why am I so....ugh?

2004-05-06T10:21:00.000-05:00

Bee-yotch

Let me explain something if I can. I do not mean to sound like a bitch. I do not mean to sound possessive or agitated, strong or aggressive.
I mean, I suppose those are all qualities I possess...but I really am a very nice person. I am just not the most perceptive of people when it comes to the effect my words will have on other people.
I hate lying, even when it's small talk. I can't stand it, and so I'm pretty much going to be up front with you any time you ask me something. Ask me how my day was, and I'll tell you, whether it's good, bad, or upside down. When I ask someone something, I want an honest reply, not some watered down version that is contrived to be as least harmful as possible. I'm straightforward, honest and truthful, often bluntly so.
I can't seem to help it. I think, if I didn't know better, I'd say I had some mild form of Asperger's syndrome. I realize that people seem to avoid talking to and hanging out with me, and it seems that I just grate on people's nerves. I can recognize when this is happening. The things they say, the body language all tell me that their annoyance is growing, and I wish to god (or since I don't believe in god, whatever higher force is out there) that I could shut up and change and do the light happy shiny small talk thing.
But that's not me. I've tried changing, but I seem to just circle back around to the whole crappy honesty thing. I've gotten better at small talk, and occasionally I can actually small talk like nobody's business, but if you want an honest answer about how you look in that dress, or what I think of your boyfriend, or even what food you should order for lunch (as if you even cared what I thought about any of these things), I'm your woman. I rarely pull punches. I feel dirty and shallow when I do.
So, to everyone out there, who's read what I've said or spoken to me, and thought, "Man, what a bitch," I want to apologize. I'm sorry. I don't mean to sound cruel or to hurt people's feelings. I just can't seem to be anything but honest about how I feel or what I think or what I think you think.

2004-04-30T16:44:00.000-05:00

Flame

A tiny flame of jealousy or resentment or territoriality or fear is tickling its fiery way through my guts. I feel every infitessimal muscle in the deepest recesses and hidden depths of my body contracting tightly with bubbling emotion. Someone has intruded upon my territory, and though she is a dear and trusted friend, something about the whole situation has me on edge. A tingling feeling is running down my spine as my hackles raise. My gleaming teeth are inwardly bared. I can feel a silent yet rumbling growl beginning in my throat.

Perhaps it is not the thing itself. Perhaps it is my reaction to the way she approached telling me about it, seemingly already assuming that I would be offended or hurt, acting almost surreptitiously and suspiciously. I should not react this way. I know I shouldn't. But I do anyway.

This is my territory. Mine. You hear me? Approach me honestly, asking my opinion openly on a subject I consider myself well-versed on, acknowledging that I have the superior knowledge in this particular area, and I most likely won't react this way.

But come to me sideways, glancing this way and that, as if you had something to hide, as if you had intentionally avoided my knowledge of this until the last moment, not wanting me to get involved or give you any input, thinking perhaps that you could do it yourself and do a great job, and I'm going to become a bit agitated.

I'll be agitated especially when you didn't even listen to my lecture which I gave on something directly within that subject. Don't pretend that you can compensate for what I know by reading a survey book on the subject when you don't even know the least bit about the basics. Did you tell them that you could talk about that area of art? Did you think that you could fill in some information to give them at the last minute?

I don't assume that I can speak on your subject with any sort of authority and I didn't include your area of interest for that very reason. You know just about as much of my speciality as I do about yours, so don't you dare assume that you can make up for it with a quick glance in a survey book.

Don't step on my territory. It's mine remember? You can visit, ask me questions, have a nice glass of refreshing ice tea. But if you're not going to do that...if you're not going to respect my right to my territory...then you can go sit on a stick and spin.

2004-04-22T23:04:00.000-05:00

Teen Girl Squad

WTF?

2004-04-08T11:06:00.000-05:00

Coolness from Portland

2004-03-16T09:38:00.000-06:00

Word from the Dalai Lama

As human beings we have good qualities as well as bad ones. Now, anger, attachment, jealousy, hatred, are the bad side; these are the real enemy...The true troublemaker is inside.

-His Holiness the Dalai Lama

2004-03-02T22:26:00.000-06:00

Yes!

Dudes and dudettes, you absolutely have to check this shit out!

2004-02-27T10:10:00.000-06:00

News

So, I'm engaged. And it's weird. And I oddly am very happy about it. And the ring is beautiful. And we're getting married on our nine year anniversary. So it's about time right?

It's just a little strange considering I've been so anti-marriage for such a long time now. But I guess I had to come to grips with being deathly afraid of ending up divorced, alone, unhappy, living in a cardboard box, toothless, and smelling like pee at some point.

2004-01-29T11:42:00.000-06:00

Lucia

My dear and decrepit choice of transportation, Lucia, had a flat the other morning just as I was getting on the exit for work. In reaction, I just had to write a song, one I have been actually thinking about for while, in anticipation of a moment like this.

Set to the tune of 'Cecilia' by Simon and Garfunkel

Went to work on seventy-five
In the Morning
It was freezing cold.
I was just two blocks away when I got a flat and to a stop I rolled.

Oh Lucia, You're breaking my heart,
You're taking all of my money.
Oh Lucia, I'm down on my knees,
I'm begging you please,
Don't break down.
Don't break down.

Luci was in the shop again
when the mechanic
gave me a call.
He said she'd need a new clutch and the ignition system was on recall.

Refrain

I spent four years paying for her when Lucia's title was finally mine.
Of course she's now falling apart, so I just lay down the money, hang my head, and cry.

Refrain

Ok, ok. So it's no grammy awarding winning type of song, but I had fun writing it.

2004-01-25T11:45:00.000-06:00

Confusion

Ever feel utterly confused by life and what it has in store for you? Yeah, me too. It feels like this puzzle that I keep turning over and over in my head, trying to figure it out, to understand what it all is about.

And yes, I know that this is the way life is. You're not supposed to be able to figure it all out. But I can't seem to stop looking for some kind of solution to it.

2004-01-25T11:39:00.000-06:00

Heedfulness: the path to the Deathless.
Heedlessness: the path to death.
The heedful do not die.
The heedless are as if already dead.
Knowing this as a true distinction,
those wise in heedfulness
rejoice in heedfulness,
enjoying the range of the noble ones.

The enlightened, constantly
absorbed in jhana,
persevering,
firm in their effort:
they touch Unbinding,
the unexcelled safety from bondage.

-Dhammapada, 21-23, translated by Thanissaro Bhikkhu

2004-01-21T16:47:00.000-06:00

Peace

My only duties these days are:
1)To take care of myself.
2)Finish my thesis.
3)Work.
4)Find a job for next year.

This is simple right? I should be able to do this right?

One would hope so, wouldn't one? Except I'm not really working right now, am I?

2004-01-09T10:57:00.001-06:00

Things I find odd:

-My friend heard for the very first time the other day, despite growing up in the eighties, Madonna's "Papa Don't Preach". The very first time!

-My roommate knows very little about Bruce Lee, including the fact that he was Chinese.

-My body can lose or gain five pounds in one day alone.

-Even if you're a specialist in a certain subject, your knowledge is worth nothing and you're completely ignored by your boss if you're an intern.

2003-12-17T11:33:00.000-06:00

Utter Silliness

There's a funny thing going on in my apartment right now. A small time war battled on the infitessimal level is being waged. No one with any sense of sanity would even notice that it was going on, but when you put two anal retentive neat freaks together, things like this tend to happen. I don't know if you're interested or if you believe in astrological signs at all, nor do I particularly care, but for me and my roommate the assessment of the Virgo is frighteningly, abhorently, and annoyingly true. We are both Virgos and as such tend to be rather picky and neat and organized to the point of an anality that is hard to believe exits in reality, and we've been warring against each other on such a small scale that it's absolutely ridiculous and no one else would ever even notice.

Our home is terminally clean, and yet we each like to have things "just so". Unfortunately, if our "just so's" don't agree with each other, it becomes a problem. I wake up in the morning and arrange all the little decorations to my taste - I set the coasters out in the way I like them on the coffee table and I put the little tray with a candle in the center. I separate my christmas cards and decorations back into the formation that I like them in. Then, she comes home at night, and puts everything the way she wants it, which is exactly the way I don't want it. So the cycle begins again the next day.

I mean, this is how ridiculous it gets people. She moves my wind chimes from the front door to the pantry door of the kitchen and I move it back. She stacks these coasters I have that I consider to be very pretty and puts them to the side and I separate them and put them more centered on the table. She pushes my Christmas cards together so that they can't be seen and puts my christmas decorations onto an ugly little plate that she insists on keeping on the table, and I separate the cards, take my decorations off the ugly little plate and put it to the side trying to hide it. She puts the rugs in the kitchen in one formation, and I put them in another. Various other things around the house are also constantly rearranged according to our individual tastes. And this happens every day folks. EVERY DAY.

And you know, I recognize the fact that I'm a freak about these things, but I just can't seem to help noticing it. With any other non-freaky Virgo roommate it would be okay, because they wouldn't even notice, nor would they care, but for my roommate and I, it's become this weird sort of silent battle. I know it's stupid. I know it's silly and ridiculous, but it's driving me nuts!

2003-12-15T09:47:00.000-06:00

Oh yeah...

Also, you know that stupid story I started writing about some stupid little cowgirl thingie person? Yeah. Not gonna ever finish that, because the creative urge is gone gone gone...

2003-12-15T09:41:00.000-06:00

Ugh..

You know those little random crushes you get on people sometimes where they just won't leave your head and you dream about them, even though you're in a good relationship, you know the crush probably doesn't even know you're alive, and there's absolutely no chance of anything ever happening?

Yeah. I hate those.

2003-12-11T09:45:00.000-06:00

It's Christmas at Ground Zero...

Ok, well, not really at all, but in my home is my very first, piney smelling, beautiful Christmas tree with a few carefully wrapped packages underneath. And you know, I'm not a religious person, nor particularly materialistic (I think), but there's just something about a lit up christmas tree with a few presents that just makes me undeniably happy.

2003-12-05T10:09:00.000-06:00

Sour Bob Says it Best

Once again, Sour Bob says it with more eloquence than I ever could.

2003-11-17T15:47:00.000-06:00

Cowgirl, Installment 2

So the little cowgirl with the curly toed cowboy boots had been accepted into the community as just yet another unconventional personality amongst the others, which every small town has. Besides, she pulled her weight and sometimes even that of others, and those that had become what could loosely be termed as her friends counted her as a blessing in their lives, marveling at the good luck and fortune that had come their way since she had appeared. For with her coming had come strange signs and omens. Charlie Crocker down on the dirt road by the lake had claimed that on the night the cowgirl came to town he saw a pure white stag with an enormous rack, seemingly shining and glittering on its graceful way through the darkening forest, and clearly an ancient majestic being. The young Marvin twins had been down on the creek fishing that same night and saw one of the strangest things they had ever seen in their short lives. Both claimed that as they were tossing their lures out into the current, a sort of shimmering flurry of slick rainbow colored scaled bodies had come roiling to the surface in what seemed to the twins as a dance almost, if fish could ever be said to have created a dance. To their stunned eyes, it appeared as if all the trout of the river had come together in a celebratory life-affirming festival and they were so entranced that they forgot all about the lures gently trailing away from them down the river and made a vow right then and there to each other, that they would never fish again, no matter how much they had always enjoyed a nice roasted trout filet for dinner previous to that night. And they never did. They never even ate one morsel of fish for the rest of their lives, believing that something as beautiful as the festivity they had seen performed by the fish could never have been created by a living thing that didn’t deserve enough respect not to eat it.

To be continued....

2003-11-14T16:33:00.000-06:00

Cowgirl, Installment 1

She sat there quietly contemplating the contemplation of her self, or navel gazing as some would call it. She felt herself filled with peace, fullness, and accomplishment. A slight smile played on her lips and flitted about her eyes. The reflection of the light from the pool by which she sat gently winked back at her in its slow, seductive way. Surrounded by the foliage of the garden, she was able to maintain a calm that was impossible to keep once she left. What with everything she was required to accomplish in the short time she had left to her, she felt that she could hardly keep her wits about her. But her job was almost done and she knew that her time was coming to a close. Those that she had come to aid would soon be able to do without her and she would disappear into the vapor that is the other element of this world. Most would call it ether for lack of a better word. Though many societies thought that there were only four elements, she knew better, having been shaped and formed out of the very ether itself, somehow knowing her purpose and how to go about getting it done.

One wouldn’t think that such a creature would need clothing or boots, but there her boots were, carelessly thrown down beside her, covered in the mud of the world outside this garden, the tips of the toes curling up and into themselves as was the style of her kind. They seemed some kind of other wordly thing and were out of place lying on a carpet of lush green. She was not the only one that had ever been formed of the ether destined to return to it again, their purpose served. No, there had been many more before her and there would be many after, whenever and wherever need arose and they were able to fill it. Their clothing and form took its cue from the surroundings, being made from the ether also, and since she happened to find herself in a certain southerly nation, her clothing had adopted the style of the people surrounding her and her shoes had become cowboy boots, though with a certain flair of individuality in the toe. Those she had been created to help thought her a bit strange and eccentric, but to most of them she seemed human, and they shrugged her peculiarities off as simply part of her nature. After all, she certainly wasn’t the first nutty person to make their home in Westphalia. No, there had been Old Blevins, too, the cracked old man who would talk the ear off of anyone who would listen about times gone by and even those that had never been or were to be only in the future. There was the old woman with all the cats, who seemed to know all the gossip of the town without really talking to anyone, and whose name no one knew for sure. Some said it was Edna McTinney, others Rose Flowers, and yet others, who scoffed at the possibility that someone would actually name their child Rose Flowers, said she had never had a name as far as anyone knew given that she had been there since before anyone living could remember, and no one had ever bothered to ever ask her.

To be continued...

2003-10-21T10:45:00.000-05:00

Hep Hep

It's been a long time since my last entry. What, you may ask, has been the cause of my detainment? Well, I'll tell you. It's a very simple and basic thing.

I have been a whole hell of a lot happier in the past two months than I have been in a heck of a long time.

Life appears to be going well for me and working out in a way I never imagined it could. I don't want to get my hopes up. I don't want to get so high on how good I'm feeling right now that I end up crashing in a few months down even worse than I've been this past year. But Damn, I'm feeling good. My apartment is beautiful. My roommate is kind and sweet and cute. My job is fulfilling and full and active and entertaining. My coworkers are interesting and fun and also very sweet and cute. My love life is going better than it has in a while. It's all going really well.

Don't get me wrong, there's still problems. But things are going so much better that my writing has probably turned into crap, since it seems that I can only come up with a pretty turn of phrase when I'm feeling down in the dumps.

2003-10-21T10:37:00.000-05:00

Hallelujah!

Sour Bob is back!

2003-08-12T11:07:00.000-05:00

And in a more crucial, meaningful, touching turn than my self indulgent wanderings...

A soldier talks about his misadventures with an honesty of emotion that's rare to see.

2003-08-12T10:40:00.000-05:00

And all the while in between

"In between" is the phrase that describes all aspects of her life. She is basically in between jobs, an interim period between the job of student and that of professional. Her relationships with friends are in between - close friends living far away and out of reach, not so close friends that don't care for her very much the only ones nearby. She is in a sort of interim period with her partner, waiting to see if he'll improve, graduate, get a job, learn to take care of himself, before she feels comfortable committing herself fully to him, knowing that even then it will be a risk, since his avoidance of committment has been as bad as hers. Around them dozens of people they know or are in contact with in some way are getting engaged and getting married, moving on with their lives and their achievement of the "American Dream", while she and he remain in a seven-year-long holding pattern, waiting for that moment when conditions aline for things to be able to move forward.

And she wonders if things ever come out of the interim, if things ever become more settled, if they're ever meant to, or if she ever will even want it to be that way. Perhaps, she thinks, the whole waiting thing is just an excuse, a way to disquise the fear of moving on, of changes, of something different. Yet she still feels this oppressive weight of anticipation, of expecting something to happen that hasn't quite reached her yet, some meaning for her existence for which she yearns and which is on the verge of falling like the impending clouds of a thunderstorm.

2003-08-12T10:26:00.000-05:00

Clink

I go to see them, rushing to clean myself, change clothes and make some sort of semi-respectable presentation of myself. I drive quickly to the restaurant hoping they haven't yet left to go to the movie. Eager to see them, these people I call friends and yet with whom I cannot seem to become comfortable, I pause for a moment when I spot them through the window, laughing, happy, having already finished their meals, probably gossiping about some part of their lives from which I feel more and more removed.

I enter and approach, smiling at them in apprehension (will this be a good time or bad?), and sit. They urge me to go order something to eat, and so I do, waiting for several minutes in line alone, awkward, shifting nervously from foot to foot. When I sit down, my food ordered, they ask me how my day has been, and after my reply, they quickly remove themselves to go get some desert, all three together, leaving me alone yet again. As I watch them walk away, I feel it in my heart - the slow inexorable clink as their world and their friendship lock me out to be the outsider, the aquaintance, the one whose presence is merely tolerated. All the frustration and loneliness of the day, and from this entire experience of living here in this place virtually alone and without any sort of recourse to good friends that I trust, wells up inside. I am the teapot on the verge of boiling over, the volcano belching smoke into the air with a bubbling, violent, churning inner core. My surface is calm and placid and I'm burning to pieces from the inside out.

2003-07-10T16:12:00.000-05:00

Whiz!

The summer is whirring by in a swirling blend of colors, heat, travel, self discovery, and various other self-indulgent topics. The boy and I hit the seven year anniversary, my mother dissapeared yet again, I went to NY for a college friend's wedding and had the best time ever, I'm working full time, working on the thesis, and attempting to be fit with random bouts of yoga classes. My poverty has brought me to being excited about purchasing a five pound bag of rice for three dollars and feeling bad about spending 30 dollars on groceries. I have finally paid off my car, have the title to it in my hands, and am shivering in fear of the cost of everything falling apart on it as things are beginning to do.

I am lonely, apathetic, excited, worried, a little depressed and trying to pretend that I know more about life than I really do so that I can, perhaps, learn to live life the way people who know more about life than me live life. I find blogs to be self-indulgent and eternal proof that the level of coolness that I strain for, the claim to individuality for which I strive, is completely out of my grasp. Or perhaps it is simply that other people are better at pretending they have those things than I am at pretending.

I have decided that Dallas is not the city for me. It gets under your skin and drives you crazy. You don't notice how bad it's gotten until you go away and come back again and realize that you're absolutely miserable in this place. I think this all while quietly fearing that it is simply my inability to enjoy life to its fullest that is preventing me from enjoying this city. Dallas is confusing and duplicitous. The people here are confusing and duplicitous. They are your friends one day and your enemies the next. The change from one to the other happens without you noticing, it's so intangible. It leaves you wondering who is who and what is what.

I am ready to move away, but I have made commitments that I can't break. I have locked myself into this. Yes, I know that I have decided to lock myself into this, because I believe my word to these people is important, but the fact remains that I am locked. Caged, if you will.

I need someone to make me a key.

2003-06-02T22:55:00.000-05:00

On Leave

No, I have not suddenly fallen off the face of the earth, been abducted by aliens or the sasquatch, or been eaten by a lion. I am, quite simply, so busy that I barely know what to do with myself and have forgotten many necessary things like when to take a shower or brush my teeth, or even when to eat. The whole working full time to come home and continue working on projects like my thesis is driving me to exhaustion. I'm also trying to eat healthy and cheap, so that means lots of home cooked meals and all the washing of dishes that accompanies that sort of thing. I'm feeling very healthy and happy, unusually, so this is a good sign of progress. Despite the fact that I am not making nearly enough money to pay essential bills, I'm doing fairly well.

In recent news, my boyfriend and I had our seventh anniversary, despite several troublesome spots this past year. To me, our relationship is confusing, and depressing, and uplifting, and wonderful, and a dozen other things all wrapped into one. Most days I don't know whether to hug him or hit him. He's bright and intelligent, but continually astounds me with the depth of stupidity he can delve to when making decisions. In the end, I'm glad to be with him yet another year, but I think our future is still pretty unclear.

My cats went through a period of hating each other's guts for a time, but things seem to have subsided somewhat. For a while it was like WWIII and I was awoken each morning by a yowling, screeching, hissing fight going on right underneath my head. Nothing like a full-blown cat fight under your head to bring you from deep sleep to complete wakefulness in the space of a second with your skin tingling and itching from the adrenaline that has suddenly been dumped into your system.

And friends? Well, friends have always been a problem for me. I continually find myself unable to relate despite my best efforts.

But I'm trying and living and moving on and doing the best I can. What more is there to do?

2003-05-09T16:56:00.000-05:00

Do people actually believe this crap?

Attn: President/CEO,

Sir,

A call for help / urgent business relationship

It is my humble pleasure to write you this letter irrespective of the fact that you do not know me. However, I got your name through your country business attaché here in my search for a reliable and trustworthy person that can handle such confidential transaction of this nature.

I am major-Gen Ahmed Bello Rtd; the Chief Security Adviser to our late military Head of State, General Sanni Abacha who died suddenly in power on the 8th of June 1998. During the reign of the late Head of State from 1993 to 1998, he used to entrust some huge sums of foreign currencies in my hand ranging from US dollars to British Pounds Sterling to Dutch Mark, for his own personal use.

Few days before he died precisely on the 29th may 1998 he kept two (2) boxes containing a total of twenty-two million US dollars ($22M) in my care, which was meant to be sent out of the country to his business associates in Brazil who handle his petrochemical company for him out there in Sao Paolo, Brazil, of cause, it is important to let you know that he used to send money out of the country this way through diplomatic means. So the above amount was billed to be shipped out on the 9th June 1998 but fortunately or unfortunately, he died on the 8th June 1998.

So when he died and no one knew that he kept these boxes containing the total of US$22M liquid cash with me, I had to deposit the boxes with the same Security Company that used to ship the consignment out of the country for him and up till now the boxes are still with the security company here in Nigeria.

After the death of late Gen Sanni Abacha, Abdul salami Abubakar took over the
Govt. I was thrown into jail together with Mohammed Abacha, the son of the late head of states. So last four months I was released from jail by Court Order together with Mohammed Abacha the son of my late boss by the new democratic government of the Federal Republic of Nigeria.

So immediately I was released from jail, I proceeded to the security company to know the position of the two boxes and found out that the consignments were and are still intact and in good condition. Now since I was released my bank account has been frozen and now we are barred from operating a foreign account. So I cannot use the money here in Nigeria except I send it out of Nigeria to any friend /associates that is capable of handling it for me through diplomatic means. And I have made arrangement to ship the consignments out of the country with the same diplomatic courier company that used to handle it for my late boss.

At this juncture, this is where you come in. I am looking for a trustworthy, honest and reliable gentleman/woman abroad that can handle this project for me, hence I contacted you. Your job is to receive and clear the consignment for me, safe keep it for me pending my arrival to meet you, of course, you should know that this money is now my personal property and to be used for investment purposes anywhere outside
Nigeria where it will be convenient and safe for me.

So, if you are interested and willing to help me, please get back to me as soon as possible or you can call me on my direct mobile phone as stated below so we can discuss and to enable me give you more details on how to go about it and how you shall be compensated for assistance.

I am expecting you response

Thanks and God bless

Major-gen Ahmed Bello rtd
Tel: 234-1-803-4712689 Fax: 234 -1 -7599673
Email: ahmed_bello@africamail.com

2003-05-05T05:03:00.000-05:00

Meatloaf's Melody Continues

His project yet unfinished, his computer has blitzed, and I am again at Kinko's helping him out.

Do I sense a pattern here? Am I destined to play this role again and again?

WTF???

Yes, he often helps me out as well, but not like this. I don't get myself into situations as bad as this, that's for sure.

When is the time to say "No. That's enough of that."? I can't seem to figure it out.

2003-05-01T03:24:00.000-05:00

A Meatloaf Melody

So, here I am at Kinko's at three something in the morning helping my boyfriend with his design project. I'm exhausted, it's been a long week, and I have many other things to do. But for the sake of hanging out with him and meaningful bonding, I am here, depriving myself of sleep, to help him out.

And what's the song playing in my head without me quite noticing at first, but slowly growing in volume?
That's right, Meatloaf's I Would Do Anything For Love. What a sap.

2003-04-22T19:45:00.000-05:00

Whew!

Augh...tried to post....got screwed up.

I was just saying that it has been a very busy week since getting back into the country. I had an interview on Thursday for an internship at the Dallas Museum of Art and on Friday I got it! Now if only the rest of my life would line up and behave. I have to find a place cheaper than the one I'm living at. Anyone have a room for rent for less than $450 per month including utilities, that would also welcome a couple of small cats in the Dallas area?

2003-04-22T19:41:00.000-05:00

2003-04-16T20:58:00.000-05:00

Guatemala is the Place to Be

It's been really great to be able to travel so much down there. I wish I could do it more often. It's always an experience. There were animals galore to see and when we got to the parts that are still rainforest, after traveling through miles and miles of farmland where the forest has all been cut away, the wall of sound that was created by the birds, monkeys, and bugs was just incredible; the sound of a healthy piece of land. We traveled fairly poshly for that area of the world, and I enjoyed it to the utmost since I'm used to staying in the cheapest places available and traveling in the chicken buses rather than a private van. Quirigua was magnificent, though the heat and humidity was overbearing, as bad as Houston in the middle of the summer and the rains haven't even started there yet. It has the tallest stela of all the known Maya sites and some truly incredible sculptures called zoomorphs, though their general artistic program seems to be fairly uninventive. It was good to see it and compare it with Copan, Quirigua's longtime superordinate except for a short period where the Quirigua king captured and killed the Copan ruler.

Then it was on to these caves at Candalaria, which were really beautiful even though I was expecting more in the way of archaeological remains. They had this wonderfully refreshing spring in which to swim right as it came out of some of the caves. I saw wild monkeys for the first time and stayed up all night the first night to the sound of howlers. Had a bat fly in my room, found a tarantula in the bathroom sink, and got this good picture of one of those giant moths they have down there. It was a couple of crazy nights there with all the bugs (luckily the hotel provided mosquito nets) and then us students got to see the odder side of our Guatemalan guide. She wanted to go with us three "chicas" further into the cave and tried to get us all to chant together and then to skinny dip in the nice relaxing pool, the whole matter with which, if you know me, you'll know I'm pretty uncomfortable. So that was a little odd.

The next day, Mary Dell managed to join us (she had been caught at the Dallas airport due to tornado threats) at Cancuen, a site that they're still preparing for tourists and haven't yet opened to the mainstream. That was very interesting and it was possible to see how the cities the Maya lived in truly were before the archaeologists came along and reconstructed sites like Copan and Tikal. They would tell us this bunch of trees used to be a ballcourt and you basically have to take their word for it. They showed us some pieces of pottery figures that they had found and that was really neat, but this is also the day when the tension started.

Mary Dell was described almost unanimously by the people we asked as a "character," which we came to find meant that she likes to boss everyone around and order their lives for them. Not that she does it in a mean or malicious way. She does really want to help, but her advice ends up coming out demanding instead of instructive. But then, she does own her own company and she does well for herself and overall I thought she was nice. Her personality, however, meant that heads were going to butt when it came to making decisions with the Guatemalan tour guide, Carla. By the end of the trip, the tension was so tight between the two that you could have cut it with a blunt spoon.

After Cancuen, was Ceibal, which I thought was a really interesting site. The art there is of a different period, and thus of a different aesthetic, than the majority of Classic maya sites. There were a lot of images of people with snakes that were recognizable as snakes, rather than the normal stylized serpents that are very difficult to discern. I guess the art was just different there because of different influences and the destruction of previous works by the contemporary cultures and it was interesting for me to see the not as mainstream places. From there we took a four hour boat ride to our hotel, the Punto de Chimino Lodge, where we three students got to have a bungalow to ourselves. Along the way, Carla randomly decided to get up (and because of her weirght we had to wildly compensate since she is very obese) and lay down at the front of the boat as some kind of bowsprit, causing water to fly in because the nose dipped down so much. It was highly random, and really kind of unprofessional and after that I was even more weirded out by her.

From Punto de Chimino we would go to see Dos Pilas and Aguateca. The bungalow was very nice, with warm water (for once!), and a cool breeze coming in off the water. They had a semi-tame ocelot that prowled the premises that had been given to them by a film crew. Ozzie, as we came to call him, took a liking to our bungalow and tried to slip in at every opportunity and attack us. He is basically a big kitten and wasn't particularly vicious, but he is a BIG kitten and those inch long teeth can still hurt. It was fun to watch his head pop up next to our window though when we managed to "shoo"(there wasn't much shooing going on. It was a wrestling match) him out onto the porch.

Dos Pilas, ah, Dos Pilas. It's a small site, but interesting as a major rival to one of the major players in the Late Classic period. Federico was the person who discovered this really important stairway on one of the main pyramids, which tells the story of a battle between the brother who ruled Dos Pilas and his sibling who ruled Tikal. This staircase is pretty important for understanding the political situations of the Peten region and so it was really neat to see. This place, however, marked the beginning of what was to be a very long night. I began to feel a tad queesy on the bumpy ride through the smoking fields of slash and burn and the muddy trails of the raucous rainforest on the way to Dos Pilas. As we started to look at the site I was feeling worse and worse to the point where I was sitting down at every monument we stopped at. The culmination came when everyone began to move off from this one stela that we had been examining, and my friend looked at me to ask if I was alright. When I shook my head, she gave me some water and the next thing I knew I found myself literally on my hands in knees in front of this stela offering up a sort of latter day sacrifice. And it only got worse from there.

Some people were already experiencing the beginnings, but I was the first to start throwing up. I threw up when the trucks stopped at the boats, I threw up during the boat ride, as the boat landed, and then almost everyone tossed their cookies when we got back to our rooms. It was a night of constant bathroom trips and a continuing battle to keep it down for the whole group throughout the night. The bathroom door was this set of swinging panels like you see at those old western style saloons and so we started calling it the "Ok Corral." "I'm going to the Ok Corral," we'd say and then we'd do our old man debilitated hoble to the restroom. It was harrowing, especially with Ozzie coming around to attack us every once in a while. By the morning, no one was throwing up any longer, but the effects lasted for the next couple of days and my meals consisted of soda crackers, which was about all I could stomach. We missed going to Aguateca, but we did still get to Tikal, which, of course, was meant to be the highlight.

Although the restoration of the buildings at Tikal has meant that they are now beginning to fall apart (they're limestone and the many hands on the work and exposure to the elements has caused them to start to dissolve), seeing the monumentality of Late Classic Maya architecture is truly impressive. To imagine that they were covered in stucco decoration and painted all sorts of wild colors really stuns the imagination. It was very neat and the proliferation of wildlife provided countless photo opportunities. I think I took far too many pictures of animals and birds. Heh...

And as if that wasn't enough of a trip, I returned to Texas to find that the keys that I had accidentally left in my mother's car had been taken along when her car was repossessed and so I spent the most part of the evening finding a ride to go get the keys so I could drive home to Dallas from Houston. I arrived home about one am and was utterly exhausted. Julian showed up as a surprise because he missed me and so I had to tell him about all my tales and didn't get to sleep until three and had to wake up for work at six thirty (not that I'm complaining. It was really good to see him after a week). I'm still recovering from the food poisoning and the lack of sleep, but I'm kind of glad to be back at my regular schedule again.

So that was my trip for those of you who hadn't heard; long, eventful, but a whole lot of fun. :) I can't wait to go back.

2003-04-03T20:00:00.000-06:00

Can You Believe It?

Well, here I am, preparing to take off on yet another trip to a foreign country. A ten day trip to Guatemala has virtually fallen into my lap. It happened last week, and now I leave on Saturday. I can hardly believe it.

I had gone to Florida to look at the objects I'm studying for my thesis, right? And this mass email goes out from this woman fairly well known in the Mayanist world offering a free trip to Guatemala for ten days to three students. Apparently, this family of three had to pull out for medical reasons, they had no traveler's insurance, and they decided to get a tax break by "giving" this trip to three students. Then, I had the director of the collection I was at, and my advising professor from back home in Texas recommend me for the trip at the same time. I said no at first because I had already made a commitment to my boss, but they arranged it all for me with her and the next thing I know I'm going to Guatemala again.

So, I won't be writing for the next ten days. Not like I update much more often than that anyway. Perhaps I will communicate my journey once again by keeping a journal and writing it out when I get back. Hopefully, this time I won't encounter the horror of bodies laying in the middle of the road from a terrible car wreck. I don't think I could handle that right now.

2003-04-02T18:46:00.000-06:00

Quite the Perceptive Test

Jude Law: you like them romantic and British with
beautiful green eyes.

Which guy are you destined to have sex with?
brought to you by Quizilla

2003-04-01T19:42:00.000-06:00

Karma's Payment

I'd have to be crazy to stop all my singin'
And never play music again.
You'd call me a fool if I grabbed up a top hat
And went out to flag down the wind.
I'd have to be weird to grow me a beard
Just to see what the rednecks would do.
But I'd have to be crazy, plum out of my mind,
To fall out of love with you.

I know I've done weird things, told people I hear'd things
When silence was all that abounds.
Been days when it pleased me to be on my knees
Followin' ants as they crawl 'cross the ground.
Been insane on a train, but I still meet again,
And the place where I hold you is true.
So I know I'm alright, 'cause I'd have to be crazy
To fall out of love with you.

You know, I don't intend to,
But should there come a day,
When I say that I don't love you,
You can lock me away.
I sure would be dingy to live in an envelope,
Waiting alone for a stamp.
You'd swear I was loco to rub for a genie,
While burnin' my hand on a lamp.
And I may not be normal, but nobody is,
So I'd like to say 'fore I'm through,
I'd have tobe crazy, plum out of my mind,
To fall out of love with you.
I'd have to be crazy, plum out of my mind,
To fall out of love with you.

This song was written by a friend of my mother's for his wife. The funny thing is that he then had an affair with my mother. Life sure is ironic somedays.

2003-04-01T00:36:00.000-06:00

Until The Fat Lady Sings

You think it's all over. You blissfully continue on after we've spent days talking, talking, talking, now thinking that it's all been solved, that you won't have to deal with any of the tiresome emotions tied up with the whole thing ever again. You think trust has been re-established, that one simple statement of reassurance - that you want to devote yourself to me entirely - will solve the problem, and mend the chasm that you've rendered. You ask me to have faith in you, naively believing that I can even give that to you when I've lived my whole life reluctant to confide trust in anyone, betrayed by those I was supposed to trust the most. You ask me to have faith in you, and the black, blind fear of it overwhelms me.

I wonder if leaving you and breaking up will actually require less effort and hurt less in the end than to stay and try to make it work, risking yet once again the pain of your betrayal, knowing that I deserve better treatment than what you've delivered. The salty tears drip from your eyes as you plead with me to stay and you leak out that you feel that you're nothing without me and that everything you do, you do because of me. You weep into my shoulder that, without me, you'll stop eating and lose interest in school and your whole life will fall apart. I watch curiously, almost distantly, but I'm still concerned. I realize I have a friend's compassion, that I don't want you to hurt and that I want you to do all those things for yourself, not for me, but I have a lover's anger, fear, and sorrow over what you've done.

I end up forgiving you, saying I won't leave if you go to counseling and if you swear by every oath you know that won't do this to me again, watching every trite movie plot play out where the girlfriend takes back the lover done wrong, while the soundtrack of this particular sad episode, in the form of Moby's album Play, is quietly and, oddly, appropriately in the background.

Why would you do this to me? Why would you threaten and betray what we have for one moment of pleasure? Why didn't you just call me, you idiot? Why seek out affection and satiation from someone else? Didn't you realize that this would upset, maybe even ruin the relationship you say you value so much? What kind of self-destructive dumbass are you?

And now I'm giving you one more chance, all the while scared shitless that you'll hurt me this way again, frightened that I'll let myself slip back into complacency once more, fighting the urge to be constantly vigilant by invading your privacy and spying on you through your computer and email, realizing that the effects from this latest quake are far from over, and hoping that we can somehow pick things back up and start again, perhaps this time making it work. The mantra repeats over and over in my head, a hopeful yet pathetic comfort - "Maybe this time things will be different. Maybe this time things will change. Maybe this time...."

2003-03-19T19:47:00.000-06:00

My brother and I

I found my mom and she brought my brother up to stay with me during Spring Break. I'm not sure how much of a mistake it was. I enjoyed myself, but I'm not so sure that he did. I suddenly have a much greater appreciation for the frustration my father must have felt when I went to go see him when I was sixteen.

"So, what do you want to do?"

"Dunno."

"How about we (fill in random exciting activity that involves doing something like river rafting, visiting Disneyland, or going on a visit to San Francisco)?"

"Sure, I guess. Sounds good."

Now really, one cannot understand how frustrating the lack of enthusiasm is until one is trying desperately (and utterly failing) to be the enthusiastic one. I took him places, we went camping, we ate out a bunch, I cooked fancy meals for him and as I'm saying my good byes and mention how good it was to hang out with him, he says, "Yeah, well, it was ok seeing you."

I was so incredibly hurt by this. But what can you do when you're dealing with a sixteen year old?

2003-03-13T17:49:00.000-06:00

Next week, The "Freedom Kiss"!

Yes, that's right folks. In the interest of making a petty childish move that has no hope of any effect on the French the House cafeterias in Washington changed the name of "french fries" and "french toast" to "freedom fries" and "freedom toast." The ironic thing is, folks, that neither one of these things comes from France!

Oh yeah, real slap in the face there, Mr. Representative. The French are going to laugh themselves silly at us yet once again.

2003-03-06T22:07:00.000-06:00

A Bigger Worry

Now, I have discovered an even bigger worry. I can't find my mother. She was staying in my grandmother's house, since my grandmother has been in the hospital for the past two months. I called several times this week and left messages and no reply. I tried calling her cellphone and it's been disconnected. These are not good signs. Usually when this sort of thing happens, I'll all of a sudden get a call from her months down the line informing me that she's pulled up roots, moved somewhere completely different, gotten a new job that this time, she swears, will be the ticket to her independence, because at the last one they were just a-holes and didn't understand her, and dragged my poor brother along with her.

I'm a bit worried. I'll give it another couple of days though before I start looking really hard.

2003-03-06T17:31:00.000-06:00

It's another one of dem days

My mother has a disease. My entire life it has caused her to act irrationally, to say the least. It's also caused most of her family to act irrationally and highly antagonistic most of my life as well. Unfortunately, it's a genetic disease and so subtle due to its being a mental disease, that people just generally thought that my family was of an unpleasant nature, rather than having a chemical imbalance in their heads.

I have inherited this disease to some extent. My father's genes have balanced it out somewhat. It's almost as if I can feel the irrational disease part activating sometimes when it begins to occur because it contrasts so much with the rational part of my brain that my father has given to me. I become paranoid, easily aggravated, depressed. It's so different from the way I normally feel and the way I want to feel. I start thinking that everyone hates me, that I must be abhorrent, disgusting, unbearable. I can barely keep myself from bursting into tears.

I hate this disease and yet it seems almost inescapable without drugs. I know I'm not a very pleasant person to be around at these times. It's as if the feelings make all the fears come true. Yet, I find it so hard to struggle against it. I've always hoped that I managed to escape the inheritance of this burden that seems to plague that side of the family, and I have missed the brunt of it, but I still feel it creeping up on me every once in a while.

Maybe I just need to go eat some chocolate.

2003-03-04T21:20:00.000-06:00

Laissez les Bons Temps Roulez

Yes, that's right folks. I did indeed make it down to New Orleans for the weekend to do a little Mardi Gras celebrating. Two of my friends live there and since I hadn't seen them in four years, I figured it was high time I did. Now I have to puzzle at my stupidity for not visiting them sooner.

We had a gay old time. Not only did we gather many beads (no, I did NOT flash anyone), walk the French Quarter, and enjoy some delicious Beignets at the Cafe du Monde, but we also got to watch people vomit all over themselves, act stupid, and we couldn't turn around (while on Bourbon Street anyway) without seeing somebody's ass, dick, or tits.

Thoroughly enjoyable.

2003-03-04T21:12:00.000-06:00

This is Not Your Typical Cat.

This is Olive the Evil Sphynx kitten. She hates cutesy puppies.

2003-02-24T19:01:00.000-06:00

Hell's Freezing Over

My thoughts go jingling jangling from thought to thought, worry to worry, debating the benefits and drawbacks of each route I might possibly take from here through life. It's like a well tooled banjo solo in my head.

I'm stuck inside in Denton as the sleet and hail and snow and whatever else is included in a "wintry mix" continue to pour down covering the normally verdant north Texas landscape with white hoary frost. For the one day of actual winter weather that we get down here, it sure is living it up. On top of that, any sort of sense we Texans have is abandoned completely when confronted with icy driving conditions and so the highway is backed up for forty miles all the way to Dallas and I can't get home. *le sigh*

At least I got some laundry done.

2003-02-22T12:52:00.000-06:00

Is it me?

Sometimes I wonder why I even keep messenger services on my computer. Especially when I can't ever seem to manage to keep a conversation going. I'm on and I'm talking to you because I'd like to talk and it allows me the non personal contact that always seems to fluster me in real life due to the extreme shyness factor. But I simply cannot seem to keep people interested long enough to talk to me.

As a general rule, I do not talk to people I don't actually know, but then, when I get up the guts to talk to someone whose blog I've been reading or whatnot, I fail miserably, crashing and burning into a puddly mess of wondering what in the heck is wrong with me. I even had someone use the excuse the other day that their cat was making funny noises to get away. Is that a blow off or what?

Not even the perverts try to talk to me anymore.

2003-02-19T17:31:00.000-06:00

Derrida's a doo de doo da

So, I'm working at the reference desk last night, that would be Tuesday, and Julian's dad starts talking to me on AIM through his wife's nickname. The man is eerily intelligent and frighteningly capable. Understand while reading the following conversation piece that he learned French by reading a late eighteenth century/early nineteenth century natural philosopher named Lamarck and already knows several other languages, has a PhD in linguistics, and can learn anything by reading it. Hence, he works as a techwriter for a computer place, because he read about computer programming and knows it now. He also does extremely fine woodwork in his spare time, which has included the construction of a lute, because he read about it and now knows it. He can also tell the kind of bird it is from its call.

Elaine: I'm going to go read Proust for a while before I crash.
Me: In french?
Elaine: I am reading Proust from cover to cover in French. How's that for snob appeal?
Me: Excellent.
Me: You get an A+ in snobbery.
Elaine: You have to read it without thinking, otherwise, you get lost in the middle of his damned sentences, and never find your way out. I thought about one sentence for a little too long last weekend and ending up spending about four hours finding out how stupid the sentence was.
Me: Yeah, that's Proust for you.
Elaine: Anyway, Proust is all hung up on these deep psychological things. There really isn't a lot of vocabulary involved. It's just weird in convoluted. Hugo or Zola will kill you with vocabulary, but their sentences are really simple.
Elaine: And then there's Sartre, or, say, Derrida, do dah, do dah...
Me: Ugh...I haven't read any Derrida in french, though in English was plenty enough.
Elaine: I imagine it doesn't make any difference what the language is. He still can't say anything comprehensible enough. It's like the facade of an ancient church, when seen through a mules eyes, monochromatically dimensional, that rises like a snail on a bubble.
Greenetara: Yeeesss.....hmmmmm....riiiggghhhttt....
Elaine: Gas...Like gas...
Me: like gas on a snail? Or gas on a bubble?
Me: Uh oh, I think I'm thinking too much about that one.
Elaine: Yeah. Like Derrida in an argument.
Me: Yes.

And he's reading this for sheer enjoyment - a relaxing thing to do before going to bed. No wonder Julian has issues.

2003-02-18T19:16:00.000-06:00

Someone had to figure it out at some point

How evil are you?

2003-02-17T02:39:00.000-06:00

We Could Be Heroes

Cirque du Soleil was fabulous. The desire to join the circus just welled up from deep inside and even brought a few tears to my eyes, partly because of the depth of this strange need I feel and partly because of the knowledge that it could never happen. But maybe Julian (the boyfriend) can join! He breathes fire, juggles, unicycles, and on a daily basis does all the things that the clowns were doing, namely, things like sinking to the floor, following behind people, wearing loose, baggy, worn out clothes, etc. etc. Thinking about it, though, I think I realize why I might have been attracted to him in the first place. Why join the circus when you can simply date a circus clown? We even bought goofy feather hats to wear for that future date when we put together a juggling act for the street.

On actual Valentine's Day we just went to go see Dare Devil (it's alright) and went out to a pub with some friends afterwards, who luckily happened to be happy to welcome us from our "date". We decided that our super hero names are The Klutz (I conquer by causing catastrophic accidents which end badly for the bad guys) and Captain Doody Shoes (he conquers through the overpowering smell of doody on his shoes, which means that he could beat Dare Devil any day!). It was a hilarious evening with much fun, laughter, drunkenness, and Rebecca nearly lighting her boob on fire, which would have been a pity considering how hot she was looking that night.

2003-02-11T20:13:00.000-06:00

This is only a test

So, I've been informed that I don't update often enough and when I do, it's always desparing about politics and about what I have due. Well, I'll have you know that I do occasionally post about something else. But in case anyone's interested, this is what's happening:

My string of bad luck seems to be coming to end. *crosses fingers and knocks on wood* The amazing ever ready ever dying grandma has revived once again. Though now that I say this, I will probably return home only to find a message on my machine from my mother informing me that the g-ma has actually, finally, and really and truly kicked the bucket.

I went to court for the stupid speeding ticket that I got when I WASN'T speeding, got the fee reduced and got deferred adjudication, which is fine for me since it still won't make my insurance go up and I don't really have time to take it to court and prove to the officer how utterly mistaken he was.

Contact with my advisor is slowly being reestablished and he has somewhat made himself available again to talk with. Plus, I've begun talking to the professor that I would like to be a reader for my thesis and things seem positive so far. I still have yet to hear from the people that own my objects about permission to go see them, though. *Grrrr*

I bought a printer for my boyfriend for Valentine's Day and he thinks I rock. Which I do, of course, but I think I might have spent too much on the thing. Oh well, I love him and he needed it.

Furthermore, for Valentine's Day we're celebrating by going to see Cirque du Soleil's Alegria (FINALLY) the day before Valentine's. I have been a fan of this group since before they were popular (being the latent circus star I've always imagined myself to be. Heck, I even wanted to have their wallpaper in my future home), have watched them grow in popularity, have observed many other people go see them, and have yet to go see them myself. Being the somewhat staid, often-labeled-stoic person that I am, I imagine that people just don't realize how passionate I am about these things and so have previously missed out on providing me with the opportunity to be a kid again and be fascinated by all the jumping and twirling and flying and swirling. Yes, I have wanted to run away and join the circus since the age of three, but am far too much of the said stoic and staid personality that I am to actually do so. Hence, I am very excited about this Valentine's and though it may not seem like it on the surface, if you catch me unawares, there's a tiny glint in the eye that testifies to my secret desire to run away and join Cirque du Soleil, counting on my limited juggling and unicycling skills to get me through (but I'm a quick learner). Yes, fellows, this sixth Valentine's Day together promises to be good and in my happiness I am getting the urge to make chocolate chip cookies for everybody....hmm....

Tomorrow, I get to present a paper I wrote a while ago to the art history department, entitled "Wu Wei's Women: Wild or Worldly?" (and to answer that question I see in your eyes - yes, I adore alliteration) and will hopefully receive 100 smackaroonees for the job. Hip hip! That can go to pay for the fine of my speeding ticket. Though right now it remains unclear if I will be able to use powerpoint the way I want to for my images or if I will have to use slides (Major ugh since this presentation is organized around the powerpoint presentation). I mean, seriously people, don't you think that if you're going to provide the projector for such services, you should have a computer available as well for this?

So, that's the current story. I've filled you in. One more thing though, I'd really really really like to hang out with my friends and go get some coffee sometime or do something else exciting and fun when they're free. You know who you are. :)

You may now return to your regularly scheduled program.

2003-02-06T20:32:00.000-06:00

Re-establishing the Essentials

It must be pleasant to be completely oblivious of everything going on around oneself. There are so many tragedies in the world and each has their protestors fighting against the injustice, sacrificing themselves to bring awareness to the rest of the world. But how many things can you be aware of? I find that as I receive more and more emails from all the different groups requiring my attention, pleading with me to write my senator, president, or whatever official happens to be in charge of that particular country in order to protest the inhuman treatment of people, the environment, animals, etc. etc., my feelings of inadequacy and hopelessness grow.

I want to help, really I do. I want to make it all better. But I can only write so many letters, only discover and protest so many problems so many times. It all seems so overwhelming that I begin to figure that it's time for humanity to go the way of the dinosaur. Let nature or humanity's stupidity simply get rid of them. Let Nature reassert itself and determine how things should be and what direction they should go. Sometimes I feel, and it shames me to say it, that both liberals and conservatives are misguided in everything they do that involves them sticking their noses in other people's business, from getting involved in a war in Iraq to protesting the treatment of female prisoners in Turkey.

At the same time, I care about people and want to help them as much as I can. I don't want to go to war, yet I don't want Iraqis to have to continue to suffer under the regime of a tyrant. I don't want the Turkish police to abuse their prisoners. I don't want the world to die because humans are consuming one third more than the earth can produce. I want the rainforests to be protected and not cut down to make way for temporary and inefficient cowfarms. I want people to be able to support themselves, not to feel hunger or immense amounts of suffering, and not to have to cut off the hands of their children just to make a living at begging.

It all leaves me in a turmoil of conflicting emotions. I continue to write letters while wondering what purpose there can be to it at all. Why do anything? Especially when it all just keeps growing and building until the inevitable conclusion will be the destruction we're trying so desperately to ignore and yet avoid?

And I have no answer for myself. None. I just keep writing and protesting and caring anyway. What else is there to do?

2003-01-29T17:49:00.000-06:00

Not what I was expecting

It's done. The horror has ended. I presented my paper, everyone liked it even though it wasn't that polished and my advising professor had disappeared so I had to ask a friend to help me edit it. They all thought that it was an interesting topic. It got everybody talking and asking questions because they're really unfamiliar with the content. It wasn't the best presentation I'd ever done, but it went pretty well.

Now, though, I get to deal with all the stress and frustration that I've been bottling up inside for the past few weeks. I have to go down to Houston this weekend to say goodbye to my dying grandmother. I have to try to argue against a speeding ticket I received when I wasn't speeding (I think the officer didn't know what he was doing). I have to deal with the feeling of abandonment I developed because of my advising proffesor's complete and utter lack of concern. It's all making me a little contemplative, a little sad. I think I need to go get a massage, because my tension isn't going away on its own. And I need to sleep. I need to sleep and sleep and sleep. I need to be Sleeping fricking Beauty.

2003-01-23T19:29:00.000-06:00

Vewy interestink...

what's YOUR deepest secret?
brought to you by Quizilla

But stoopid.

Like me.

Wheeeeeeeeeeeeee!

*Pause* I wonder if a girl could do a breakdance move on her fake boobs? I wonder if I can get any of those audacious anatomically augmented hussies to try it out?

2003-01-22T14:00:00.000-06:00

So...

I had a five page summary and a bibliography for my thesis due yesterday as preliminary things to let the department get an idea of what I'm doing. I worked alllll last week on these things. I turned in a rough draft to my advising professor on Friday. He calls me Saturday morning, gives me some advice and emails me the same day with more advice. Basically? The bibliography is excellent, but the summary needs some rewriting...at least two pages of it need to be rewritten completely.
So, I delete two pages and write and I write and I write. Alll weekend. I end up sleeping only 45 minutes on Monday night trying to get the summary to a satisfactory point. I walk in Tuesday morning all bleary eyed and dry mouthed, the morning that these things are finally due, and there in my box, sitting right in the middle, curled up, obviously marked up, is a copy of the summary that I sent to my professor on Friday with additional corrections to make and he NEVER TOLD ME ABOUT IT. So, I take the paper, go try and make the corrections as I neglect the work I'm supposed to be doing (my assistantship in the slide library), take a copy and go beg Joy, the administration assistant and savior to the art history department, convince her after begging a while to allow me to use the department copyer to make more copies of these things as I am supposed to to have a copy for all the professors in the art history department and turn them all in.
Later that day I receive an email from my advising professor. It reads: "I read your abstract this morning. I THINK THAT IT DOES THE JOB." (caps added)
My professor is now walking on very thin ice with me, I can tell you.

You know what the funny thing is? This summary isn't even the important part. I have a presentation about my topic next week, and that's the thing I should be worrying about!

2003-01-20T00:24:00.000-06:00

On a downward spiral...

We now begin our descent into the depths of scholastic endeavors in an effort to complete the thesis, a 90 page requirement for the Masters degree that is the monkey on the back of grad students. Well, that, and caffeine in any shape or form.
Will anyone ever be interested in perusing this piece of work of mine on the inscribed weaving bones from a royal Mayan woman's tomb? Only time will tell, but the most likely answer is a resounding "NO." I will write and conceive and study the issue of gender, status, and weaving in the ancient Maya only to have it read by my thesis readers, approved so that I may get my degree, and then sent to gather dust on the shelves of a dusty library. With any luck, I may one day acquire a job where such knowledge is required of me. This outcome is doubtful, however, and I will probably go to work in a museum where my talents and wisdom will waste away.
Cheers to this.

2003-01-14T18:49:00.000-06:00

On the Twelfth Day of Christmas my True Love Gave to Me...

12 noisy relatives
11 rowdy cousins
10 kinds of pie
9 extra pounds
8 kinds of cookies
7 drunk drivers
6 Hours on the Road
5 Craaaaaaaazyyyyyy Niiiiiiiiiiiights
4 hungover friends
3 Familial Fights
2 Nutso moms
and the special expanded edition of Lord of the Rings.

2002-12-09T12:17:00.000-06:00

It's Chistmas at Ground Zero

Look! I have a wish list, too! Though nobody but my parents will get me anything from it, I declare that I do indeed have one of many pages. Ha!

2002-12-08T19:02:00.000-06:00

You Know It's Been a Good Weekend If...

You know it's been a good weekend when you hear such utterances as the following phrases:

"You need to shave your balls, that's what you need to do."
"Yeah, when you shave, they don't itch when you sweat no more."
"Plus your girl doesn't get free dental floss."

------------------------------

"Never have I ever used a plastic bag for birth control."
"WHAT??" (When one person actually drinks)

2002-12-08T18:55:00.000-06:00

End of the Semester Blues

I have come to the realization that Grad school is my kryptonite. I begin the semester feeling fairly confident, happy, semi-goodlooking and end it feeling as if I were a warty weak-kneed cave toad of some South American species, whose brain is about the size of a pea. My face grows pale and splotchy with breakouts and lack of sun exposure. My legs forget how to walk. I've gained fifteen pounds. My brain becomes so exhausted and full that it can barely remember how I should tie my shoelaces much less construct a coherent sentence. My back becomes weak and hunched over from the weight of books I carry around with me from library to library and library to home and back again.

I can't wait to be done with this so I can go outside and run and skip and walk upright and tie my shoelaces again so that I won't trip when I do all that other stuff.

Look! There's a fly!

*ribbit*

2002-12-08T18:23:00.000-06:00

To Hell In A Handbasketry

Mark Morford provides an excellent article on the destruction of America by its current administration with wit, satire, and bitingly funny humor.

2002-12-05T11:16:00.000-06:00

Haiku for today

Nights of little sleep
Days of endless work and toil
My brain's scrambled eggs.

You may return to your regularly scheduled program.

2002-12-01T20:18:00.000-06:00

I hate our president and this is just one of the reasons why.

2002-12-01T18:32:00.000-06:00

A Ghost

I swear that there must be a ghost in the radio of my car. See, periodically it just simply decides to stop working. One day it's fine, and the next I go out, I start my car, and find that the clock display isn't showing, the radio isn't playing, and I can't play tapes or anything either. This condition will often last for a few days to months, and then one day, everything is simply back to normal and working again. This afternoon was one of those times. The radio hadn't been working for about a month now. I drove this morning for about an hour and it still wasn't working, but I get in to go to work this afternoon about five thirty and all of a sudden it's perfectly fine. I'll probably go back out there after work and it won't be working again, but it's really strange. Nothing really seems to have changed. The weather doesn't seem to have and effect and driving time doesn't seem to have an effect. I just don't get it. I think it's possessed.

2002-11-24T18:55:00.000-06:00

Happiness is NOT Pursuing a Masters Degree

I couldn't resist. I had to post another entry. Not like many read of my issues anyway so this blog is mainly for me. There's something odd and weird about posting online about things you normally wouldn't talk about in a place where almost anyone can read them. In any case, here I am again.

I am trying to finish out one of the few semesters I have remaining to me as a grad student. I have (I think) two papers due. The reason I say, "I think," is that I know I have one paper due for one class, but for the other class (in another department than mine) I have no idea. I have a presentation this next week for the class that should be on my paper topic. It's only a week or two before classes end and my paper should be due then. But has the professor given us any guidelines for the paper? No. Has he specified a due date? No. Have I done anything at all about research on this topic? No. Do I know anything at all or have any idea about how to pursue research on this topic? No. Could the topic that he's essentially assigned to me be any vaguer? No.

Admittedly, he says the class is experimental and hence no sort of quasi professional presentation, as are the kind that we do in my field, will be expected of me. In fact, all he's said that he expects of me is a basic description of the objects I can look at and some ideas on what the objects tell us about what we've been studying (in case you're wondering or care at all, that's Order, Legitimacy and Wealth in Ancient States, specifically the Maya). So, what I gather that I'm supposed to do, is to go in with some images of Late Classic Maya Court Scenes on vases or sculpture, describe them, and outline some ideas I have for what they can tell us of Order, Legitimacy, and Wealth amongst the elite of the anicent Maya. Mind you, this is a week before classes end. Also note that I have no idea of how exactly Order, Legitimacy, and Wealth interrelate even though we've been studying them all semester, because they are some of the vaguest ideas I think I've ever encountered and leave much to the imagination.

Conclusion? I will be looking at these vases and (probably) stelae and making up the biggest stinkiest slimiest pile of BS that I can about how certain Order, Legitimacy, and Wealth operations among the ancient Maya can be determined, or at least hypothesized, from these objects of art.

Woo hoo! Bring on that Masters of BS, baby, cause I'll be ready to BS anyone to death after this!!

Heh, how can I possibly fail? *sigh*

2002-11-10T19:25:00.000-06:00

Ok, I Was Wrong

Just one more thing before I must sign off for a while in order to finish out this semester with any kind of sanity (or insanity as the case may be).

Yes, folks, the NRA really is utter evil.

2002-11-10T18:52:00.000-06:00

Darn It All...

So, the other day, I wrote this long rant about my rage over how the people of America are letting the wool be pulled over their eyes in regards to the conniving, despicable, demoralizing, denigrating, manipulating, duplicitous, scheming, con artist Shrub, who runs our unfortunate country.

Then, I clicked Post & Publish and *blip* my efforts of the past half hour were erased in the blink of an eye and replaced with a large error message. *grump*

So, I didn't write anything, nor will I, maybe, for a while. I have stuff to say, but not nearly enough time right now to write it down. Let's just say, I wish to move to another country. Of course, I also wish to get the heck out of grad school soon and to one day have a nice job where I actually earn enough money to pay my very basic bills instead of depending on a loan from the government as I am doing right now.

But heck, I guess I'm actually happy with my life right now, even as reluctant as I am to admit it.

2002-11-07T12:07:00.000-06:00

Cowboy Bebop

what's your cowboy bebop theme song?

I don't like this song, so I'm not so sure about this.

2002-11-04T12:53:00.000-06:00

Song That Has Been Stuck In My Head Like A Broken Record

Mad World

All around me are familiar faces
Worn out places, worn out faces.
Bright and early for their daily races
Going nowhere, Going nowhere
And their tears are filling up their glasses
No expression, No expression
Hide my head, want to drown my sorrow
No tomorrow, No tomorrow

And I find it kind of funny
I find it kind of sad
The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had
I find it hard to tell you
Cause I find it hard to take
When people run in circles
It's a very very
Mad World.

Children waiting for the day they feel good
Happy Birthday, Happy Birthday
Made to feel the way that every child should
Sit and listen, Sit and Listen
Went to school and I was very nervous
No one knew me, No one knew me
Hello Teacher, tell me, what's my lesson?
Look right through me, Look right through me.

And I find it kind of funny
I find it kind of sad
The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had
I find it hard to tell you
Cause I find it hard to take
When people run in circles
It's a very very
Mad World.

2002-11-03T19:19:00.000-06:00

Oh, I almost forgot. Everyone should go rent and see Donnie Darko.

2002-11-03T19:14:00.000-06:00

Heh.

Ok, I was wrong. I can do it. I made an A on the freaking presentation. I just hate staying up all night for three day ahead of time for something. I shouldn't have to do that except that I have some sort of strange infatuation with procrastination. I just can't seem to feel the importance of the need to get the thing done until it's almost the night before and inevitably, my work suffers because of it. *sigh*

In any case, Halloween went well this year. We (my boyfriend and I) went to one party the weekend before it, dressed as Bondage Bo Peep and Her Little Slave Sheep. It went over very well. We even won best costume. We did have to suffer of course, though, many people grinding themselves against my boyfriend in an effort to make jokes about bestiality and Scots, and quite a few people staring at and/or groping my chest considering there were some eight inches of cleavage showing. For some reason, the people I know at this party seem to feel that if I'm showing it off, it's free to touch and stare at. Well, the staring I don't mind so much. I expected staring, but the rest of it was a little shocking and weird. It was a crazy party, though, with wrestling, and fights, and police even coming because of a neighbor's complaint. And as Bondage Bo Peep, I got to whip quite a few of those boys with my riding crop. It was fun. Next year: Beowulfa and Grendel!!

On the actual day of Halloween, I dressed in the Renaissance Fair costume I had made but then later changed into mundane clothes to go to a bar and watch all the real crazies come out. Damn! I saw a Dildo, a Vagina, Pee Wee's Fun House crew, God knows how many freaking slutty Devil Girls, Angels, and Catholic School Girls (are these costumes just easy to put together, or are these girls really dying for an old excuse to look slutty and like most guys' wet dreams?), Kurt Cobain and Courtney Love, a Giant Pickle, Pumpkin Head (smoking, too!), the Gang from A Clockwork Orange, and even a fist fight between George Bush and Osama Bin Laden with everyone cheering for Osama and Bush losing. It was quite the hilarious treat to have this vision presented before us.

Then, on the Friday after some friends and I went to the last night of the Six Flags Fright Fest, which was entertaining to say the least. With hardly anyone there we were able to ride on just about any ride we wanted over and over again. We rode the Titan first thing three times in a row. Unfortunately, I suffered a concussion about four years ago, which makes your brain a bit more susceptible to the damn things, so that now, when I go on rollercoasters, which I love, I get concussed a few times over. My head was miserably aching by the end of the night and I was a little woozy. Then I had to drive to Denton to go to another Halloween party even though by the time I got there (only 11!), there was hardly anyone left and it was really kind of lame. Then a couple of friends and I decided to take off and get some late night dinner at Denny's at which point I was practically falling asleep in my food.

I think it's taken a couple of days at least to recover from the whole head damage thing, but I'm feeling better today.

2002-10-30T02:17:00.000-06:00

I can't do this. I just can't. I'm such a moron.

Why can't I do this? What's wrong with me??

God, this sucks.

2002-10-29T12:02:00.000-06:00

In Honor of Procrastination

Oh, dear dear procrastination, the favorite activity of my heart, why do you torture me so? I am continually left, semester after semester after semester, languishing in the horrors you leave behind, hands shaking from the immense amount of caffeine I have just gulped down in the forms of liquid and pills, mind reeling from the sheer immensity of what I have left to do in one single sleepless night. My apartment sits dirty and neglected, sadly reflecting my presence of mind and emotional state of being after you, tender Procrastination, have left me no other option but to drive myself relentlessly for three days straight, muscles screaming for release from the static chair, bladder insisting that I run to the bathroom one more time, body demanding, through growls and gurgles, that I give it sustenance other than that holiest of chemicals that makes my heart rush and my head spin, but at least keeps me going to get the work done that I need to do.

Oh lovely Procrastination, I love you so. Why won't you please leave me alone??

2002-10-25T14:01:00.000-05:00

The Frightening Friday Five

1. What is your favorite scary movie?

Hmmm, that's a hard one to answer. I generally have never really been one for horror movies, but I definately dig on Jaws (my favorite movie of all when I was seven, for some weird bizarre reason), Texas Chainsaw Massacre (just the first one), the Evil Dead movies though really only the first one was supposed to be the scary one, The Sixth Sense, and Friday the 13th (just the first one again cause the others are just plain silly and I spend the whole time laughing). I guess I don't really have a favorite.

2. What is your favorite halloween treat?

Again, a hard one to answer. A treat for me at Halloween time is carving pumpkins and the act of carving is probably my favorite treat. Heh.

3. Do you dress up for Halloween? If so, describe your best Halloween costume.

Yes, I love to dress up for Halloween! I guess the best costume I ever did though was when I dressed up as an evil fairy (a very drunken evil fairy), even though the wings and the mask didn't last for very long.

4. Do you enjoy going to Haunted Houses or other spooky events?

Definately! I like it a lot. I spend the whole time laughing, because my response to getting startled the way you do in haunted houses is to laugh my ass off.

5. Will you dress up for Halloween this year?

I think so. My boyfriend and I are thinking of going as Bondage Bo Peep and her little slave sheep. We'll have to see though.

2002-10-22T20:00:00.000-05:00

What do you do when you feel like something that someone very close to you did a long time ago is a betrayal? I'm glad that this person was honest with me finally about what happened. I'm not so glad about what happened. I'm not so glad that I was lied to about it for over six years. I feel let down somehow. I thought at first that I would be fine about it, but as I can't seem to escape from the depression I'm wondering if I really will be fine. I was betrayed so many times when I was a kid by those who were supposed to be my supporters. I feared trusting people. I grew up, I let myself trust, and payed with the betrayal of that trust.

Is it me who looks for people to get close to who will betray me because of my ultimately self-destructive tendencies? Or is it really that I'm really just unlucky with people? Or is it that I feel betrayed when I shouldn't simply because I am used to feeling betrayed and want to stick with the familiar?

Was I a man just dreaming that he was a butterfly? Or a butterfly, now dreaming that he is a man?

Only that last wouldn't work because I'm neither man nor butterfly and haven't been dreaming for a while now unless you count that day dream of quitting gradschool and running off to live on my friend's commune in Guatemala.

The whole trust issue thing is still bothering me though. Should I just call it quits or give it another try?

2002-10-21T19:40:00.000-05:00

Death to the Ugly Duckling

I will never ever read the story of the Ugly Duckling to my children or any children in my care. It leads to false hopes and expectations. I think that my parents were of the generation that wanted to teach their children that anything was possible if one worked hard enough at it, that all Ugly Ducklings grow into Beautiful Swans, that dreams can come true.

I am of the generation that grew up believing that all this was correct and par for the course, only to find once we were adults that it was a big crock of lies.

Yet we still watch Disney movies, and remain fatally optimistic. We enjoy believing in our little myths, I suppose.

2002-10-18T11:08:00.000-05:00

The Friday Five

1. How many TVs do you have in your home?

Just one.

2. On average, how much TV do you watch in a week?

I'm not quite sure, but I would say ten to twelve hours. I have a problem with silence and sometimes just leave it on for background noise while I do things.

3. Do you feel that television is bad for young children?

Like just about anything, it can be harmful if watched in overabundance. Using the TV as a substitute and distraction shouldn't be a common practice I think. Much better if the parents take the kids out to do fun things I think.

4. What TV shows do you absolutely HAVE to watch, and if you miss them, you're heartbroken?

Hmm, well, I've recently become a fan of Firefly. I used to feel that way about Farscape, but then they cancelled it. Other than that, I don't really get that addicted to any shows. But it looks like I have something for funky shows about space travel that aren't as feel-good and hopeful as Star Trek. Star Trek shows have always kind of annoyed me with their persistent optimism and general goody-two-shoes-ness.

5. If you had the power to create your own television network, what would your line-up look like?

It would probably have an overabundance of dark comedy mixed with science fiction. Firefly, Farscape, Good Vs. Evil, Brimstone, Buffy, and possibly shows like The Dead Zone would be regulars, with special showings of older shows like The Prisoner.

2002-10-16T21:07:00.000-05:00

A friend of mine from high school has recently decided to move to Guatemala, bought some land there on the shores of Lago Atitlan, and is planning to make this land into an ecotourism site. He's inviting us to go down there and basically move in as employees to help him with the place.

Hm.....

Should I quit grad school now or just wait until I get the degree before I move down there? }:)

2002-10-15T17:35:00.000-05:00

Sometimes I feel like the depravity and corruption of the world is too much to bear. Why would anyone want to live in this world??
I see some of the beauty that can be and some form of hope starts to grow. Yet, just when a belief in goodness and the possibility of improvement begins to instill itself, something proves to me again that there is no hope and humanity is one of the most degraded group of beings in the universe. Maybe it’s just my pessimism. Maybe I’ve seen too much of the dark side of people and I’m damn tired of it. Even the things or people that I believe are good eventually have something wrong with them that utterly destroys the possibility of having hope.
Maybe I’m just in a depressed mood and can’t see myself out of the darkness right now.

Geez, I’m such a killjoy.
Lost is the word that most describes what I'm feeling right now.

2002-10-08T18:58:00.000-05:00

Tee hee....Ahem....

I heard one of the funniest statements I have heard in a long while this evening. Perhaps it was due to my utter loopiness and exhaustion?

"My eyes were yellow and I couldn't open my mouth!"
-she says in reference to having to pee very badly.

2002-10-08T18:18:00.001-05:00

what movie symbolism are you? find out!

2002-10-08T18:18:00.000-05:00

Which Princess Bride Character are You?
this quiz was made by mysti

Ha!