Happy birthday to me/ Happy birthday to me/ Happy birthday dear meeee-eee/ Happy birthday to me. Yay, I got older. Ah, the birthday weekend, and what a weekend it was. I find myself as drained after this weekend as I was after my twenty-first, but for very different reasons. Traveling hours upon end in a mini-van with four other people wears a person out.
Now, in defense of my immediate family (who were my fellow travelers) it did not help that I started the weekend off tired and hung over. So let’s start at the very beginning…
I had a great time Thursday with one side of the family, eating, playing cards, being merry, the usual. I then got dressed up and went out dancing. Here is where I was struck with the double-edged birthday sword. On your birthday everyone wants to do a shot with you and pay for it, but it is never good timing (at least in my experience) to get as drunk as one will undoubtedly end up. I ended up very, very well off. I then got to deal with drama the likes of which I haven’t seen since school got out. That is all I will say about that. I will say one more thing—I life without drama is a glorious thing indeed.
Moving on, I spent my first real drunk night at home with the parents sleeping peacefully upstairs; that was a cool feeling. I did the whole, sit down in front of the refrigerator and stare drunkenly at the contents routine then wandered around aimlessly for a bit. Very young, dumb, and drunk of me. What else what else…
There are some things I would love to type, but this is not the place for them. Oh well.
Ah yes, how could I forget? I saw The Matrix: Reloaded in an IMAX theatre. Now, those of you who have been to an IMAX know any IMAX is fun to see. Those of you who have seen the Matrix 2 know that is an exceptionally kick ass movie to see on IMAX. It was abso-fucking-lutely amazing. (A moment of silence for the word “fuck”. It is so marvelously versatile.) I still maintain that the dance scene (don’t worry I’m not giving anything away) was one of the most sensual scenes ever done. Some disagree. I think they are too immature to appreciate it, or too cynical. But hey, what do I know. I am a romantic at heart so probably I shouldn’t throw stones but I digress. It was a great experience. Right up there with Fantasia 2000 for coolness.
I hate Microsoft word, it tells a person to make very wrong decisions concerning grammar.
So much to ramble about so little drive. Ah yes such is the way of things. Peace be with you and God bless. An ode to Bob Ross.
Sunday, July 20, 2003
Thursday, July 17, 2003
Hello fellow travelers, how are all ya’ll doin’? Haha, forgive the terrible, terrible grammar there but I can’t help myself. On this fine night of drinking and yodeling I fear correct grammar has escaped me. Now that is of course, implying that I use correct grammar other times. In fact, I really don’t. That is neither here nor there as they say and so let us continue onward and upward in this journey together.
I rediscovered my roots tonight. That is to say I ventured back to everyone’s favorite bar in Mac-town, the Café. I had some marvelous drinks and it was a spectacular time and despite the encroaching tiredness of my body I felt I simply had to blog. Now here is the humorous part—I have nothing to blog about! Ah-ha!
Some of you might argue I never have anything to blog about. I’m not sure I could argue back…
Wow, add a little vodka to your night and the thoughts just don’t flow like normal. Everything is fuzzy, so fuzzy. Marvelous little pastels, I like it, I like it. I want to roll around in the fuzziness, paint with pastels. I think I’m scaring myself.
I can say that despite the fact I am unemployed (at least in a “career” sense of the word) that I realized tonight I am really happy to not be going to school next year. Grad school is most likely going to happen, I simply don’t see a way around it, but in the meantime I will have an apartment, two (three for a bit) jobs, and no homework. I can handle that, quite honestly. The plan (haha I never plan and it is sooo not going to happen) is to work on the writing and try to get that going. I need to finish the old trashy romance and begin the revision process. The problem with writing such a long piece however is that it takes forever. For instance, I write 8-10 pages a night, single spaced, and the story still progresses with agonizing slowness. That isn’t to say it drags (at least I hope not) but there is still so much more story in my head. And then I think about the job of revising it all—you know, making it not suck. That is the really hard part. Yeah, yeah I know, poor me. But hey it’s my rant so I get to be selfish. It feels really, really good to not have to worry about school or band though. It’s a freedom I’ve never experienced before. Now if I could only get out of Mac-town and have that…a thought for another day.
Well, the vodka is saying “put me to bed!” and I can ignore it no longer. Adieu fair people and remember, watch out for camels, they spit.
I rediscovered my roots tonight. That is to say I ventured back to everyone’s favorite bar in Mac-town, the Café. I had some marvelous drinks and it was a spectacular time and despite the encroaching tiredness of my body I felt I simply had to blog. Now here is the humorous part—I have nothing to blog about! Ah-ha!
Some of you might argue I never have anything to blog about. I’m not sure I could argue back…
Wow, add a little vodka to your night and the thoughts just don’t flow like normal. Everything is fuzzy, so fuzzy. Marvelous little pastels, I like it, I like it. I want to roll around in the fuzziness, paint with pastels. I think I’m scaring myself.
I can say that despite the fact I am unemployed (at least in a “career” sense of the word) that I realized tonight I am really happy to not be going to school next year. Grad school is most likely going to happen, I simply don’t see a way around it, but in the meantime I will have an apartment, two (three for a bit) jobs, and no homework. I can handle that, quite honestly. The plan (haha I never plan and it is sooo not going to happen) is to work on the writing and try to get that going. I need to finish the old trashy romance and begin the revision process. The problem with writing such a long piece however is that it takes forever. For instance, I write 8-10 pages a night, single spaced, and the story still progresses with agonizing slowness. That isn’t to say it drags (at least I hope not) but there is still so much more story in my head. And then I think about the job of revising it all—you know, making it not suck. That is the really hard part. Yeah, yeah I know, poor me. But hey it’s my rant so I get to be selfish. It feels really, really good to not have to worry about school or band though. It’s a freedom I’ve never experienced before. Now if I could only get out of Mac-town and have that…a thought for another day.
Well, the vodka is saying “put me to bed!” and I can ignore it no longer. Adieu fair people and remember, watch out for camels, they spit.
Friday, July 11, 2003
Oh where to begin. I suppose I shall start with an apology. Whether that is a good thing or bad I couldn’t tell you, but upon rereading some of my posts here I have noticed the extreme level of intimacy I reach with some of my views. Not that I necessarily mind that I posted it, but I am a little bit surprised. And of course, I should apologize for the typos but you know, life happens.
The other bit of news I have is that I have begun work on a trashy romance. At least, I think it is going to be a trashy romance…it might end up being a fantasy novel but I doubt it. I’ve had a trashy romance inside of me for a very long time and I think it is about time it came out. I would say I’m sorry to those of you I disappoint with that news…I know some people hate to see me sell myself out like this, but I don’t really consider it to be that. A good story is a good story after all. And I’m stubborn enough to write what I want to, but nobody has to read it (though if a few lonely housewives would that would be great because then I can make money). That probably sounds very mercenary to some of you folks but just remember—I’m living at home with my parents. Be damned happy for me if I make money however it is done.
So I had a thought earlier today, actually it was on the way home very late at night, but you get the drift. It was a very good thought too and I thought “I shall have to blog that” and now you know what? I cannot remember what it was. That really yanks my chain. I was so excited because it was a good thing to share. Perhaps it will come to me.
I did think of this (and maybe this was the thought but I cannot remember to tell you). I made a wrong turn on the way home and I said, “stop being retarded” and it occurred to me I needed to stop using that word in a negative way. Let me explain. No, that will take to long, let me sum up. (Movie reference anyone?) I realized I needed to stop saying I was “being retarded” because it gives mental handicaps a negative stigma they simply do not need. As when someone says, “that is so gay” referring to a stupid comment or a misdeed it works on the human mind making us see retarded (or gay or what have you) as in league with everything negative in our lives. I was sure you were all already aware of this but the thought continued and what I was truly considering was the effects this has had on the way people talk.
For instance, if a retarded person is walking down the street and someone asks “what’s wrong with him?” a person is likely to answer, “he is mentally handicapped” or if they do say “he’s retarded” they whisper it behind their hand like it is a bad word. Everyone gives words a power manifested of our own prejudices and fears. It bothers me. Being retarded is not a bad thing. I would imagine it would suck, but it does not make someone a “bad” person by default. Being retarded is simply the way you are born. Every negative aspect of a person has to be sugarcoated or talked around instead of acknowledged and accepted. I much prefer to see (and say) things like they are and give nothing more power than deserved. If a woman is ugly she is ugly. She may have the best personality in the world but she’s still ugly. It sucks but that was the way she was born. I suppose I am being judgmental in not accepting everyone is entitled to live their life as they see fit, but is ignorance really bliss? Isn’t it better to know exactly what you are: strengths, weaknesses, assets, and faults included? Maybe not, perhaps ignorance is bliss for the majority of people but when am I allowed to be unhappy with their ignorance because it makes my life more difficult? Where is the line? What is too judgmental? Depending on the time of month I can be very accepting or not at all. Go figure.
Oh well, more useless and shallow thoughts, I hope you have all enjoyed. I will leave you with a bit of advice, something I have found invaluable:
Never date anyone more moody than you are.
And if you aren’t very moody and therefore everyone is more moody than you are then here is this:
Never date anyone who can’t control his or her moods 99% of the time.
Yeah, I’m judgmental. Oops.
The other bit of news I have is that I have begun work on a trashy romance. At least, I think it is going to be a trashy romance…it might end up being a fantasy novel but I doubt it. I’ve had a trashy romance inside of me for a very long time and I think it is about time it came out. I would say I’m sorry to those of you I disappoint with that news…I know some people hate to see me sell myself out like this, but I don’t really consider it to be that. A good story is a good story after all. And I’m stubborn enough to write what I want to, but nobody has to read it (though if a few lonely housewives would that would be great because then I can make money). That probably sounds very mercenary to some of you folks but just remember—I’m living at home with my parents. Be damned happy for me if I make money however it is done.
So I had a thought earlier today, actually it was on the way home very late at night, but you get the drift. It was a very good thought too and I thought “I shall have to blog that” and now you know what? I cannot remember what it was. That really yanks my chain. I was so excited because it was a good thing to share. Perhaps it will come to me.
I did think of this (and maybe this was the thought but I cannot remember to tell you). I made a wrong turn on the way home and I said, “stop being retarded” and it occurred to me I needed to stop using that word in a negative way. Let me explain. No, that will take to long, let me sum up. (Movie reference anyone?) I realized I needed to stop saying I was “being retarded” because it gives mental handicaps a negative stigma they simply do not need. As when someone says, “that is so gay” referring to a stupid comment or a misdeed it works on the human mind making us see retarded (or gay or what have you) as in league with everything negative in our lives. I was sure you were all already aware of this but the thought continued and what I was truly considering was the effects this has had on the way people talk.
For instance, if a retarded person is walking down the street and someone asks “what’s wrong with him?” a person is likely to answer, “he is mentally handicapped” or if they do say “he’s retarded” they whisper it behind their hand like it is a bad word. Everyone gives words a power manifested of our own prejudices and fears. It bothers me. Being retarded is not a bad thing. I would imagine it would suck, but it does not make someone a “bad” person by default. Being retarded is simply the way you are born. Every negative aspect of a person has to be sugarcoated or talked around instead of acknowledged and accepted. I much prefer to see (and say) things like they are and give nothing more power than deserved. If a woman is ugly she is ugly. She may have the best personality in the world but she’s still ugly. It sucks but that was the way she was born. I suppose I am being judgmental in not accepting everyone is entitled to live their life as they see fit, but is ignorance really bliss? Isn’t it better to know exactly what you are: strengths, weaknesses, assets, and faults included? Maybe not, perhaps ignorance is bliss for the majority of people but when am I allowed to be unhappy with their ignorance because it makes my life more difficult? Where is the line? What is too judgmental? Depending on the time of month I can be very accepting or not at all. Go figure.
Oh well, more useless and shallow thoughts, I hope you have all enjoyed. I will leave you with a bit of advice, something I have found invaluable:
Never date anyone more moody than you are.
And if you aren’t very moody and therefore everyone is more moody than you are then here is this:
Never date anyone who can’t control his or her moods 99% of the time.
Yeah, I’m judgmental. Oops.
Sunday, July 06, 2003
I am a terrible person. I have easily one of the best families in the world and I still want to kill them. I have no clue how people live with their parents past the age of 22. That being said how is everyone this evening? I am bored out of my mind. I’m on page 490-something and the damn book still isn’t done. Not that it is a bad book, but sometimes I’m just ready for a story to be over. Next story please. Unfortunately the damn thing just won’t end. It keeps going and going…and energizer bunny with diarrhea.
My mind is slowly eating away at itself…perhaps I should really attempt to apply myself to some fiction writing in an attempt to save my thoughts. The problem is it is impossible to get any real privacy when living with someone else. Even if it is only roommates you love and adore inevitably they will knock on your door and want to chat or cry or gossip or just waste air. With family it’s come do this and come do that. Myself having a semi-overactive guilt reflex (which I’m working on) I feel the need to do these things because, after all, these people did raise me. Unfortunately if I don’t do it with a smile it’s “what’s wrong?” “why are you sad?” “are you okay?”. Everyday I say the same thing. Nothing is wrong, I am not sad and I am fine. I just hate questions. Really, really, really hate questions. At least the idiotic ones, which is painfully ironic since I tend to ask lots and lots of dumb questions but we’ll ignore that for now. Anyone know that annoying and rather irritating saying that has been floating around on forward for years now? The one that says what do you do if the only person that can stop your tears is the one that made you cry? My life has turned into the twisted teen movie version. How do you answer a question happily when the very asking of the question drives you insane? If no one understands why I said teen movie sorry, I’m not sure I could explain it.
I apologize for the pointlessness of this rant. I don’t really have a lot, more boredom than anything else. I suppose I am hoping if I type out a few pointless thoughts for your amusement/revulsion I can jumpstart my brain into producing something productive. Oooh, “producing something productive”. That was a terrible sentence! (Brownie points to whoever knows why.) I can’t even make a few good provocative comments. Ah well, it gets old when all you talk about is the body anyway. Not for me, but I am trying to keep your interests in mind. I have got to find something to do with myself before I implode though. Not explode, to explode would mean I would have to have something inside me with tremendous energy. Nope, I will implode, simply collapse in upon myself like the great black hole I live in. I’ll suck the life out of everyone around me like some many others in this town. That will be fun. I’m on my way to becoming a mindless, soul sucking zombie. It’s good to have goals.
My mind is slowly eating away at itself…perhaps I should really attempt to apply myself to some fiction writing in an attempt to save my thoughts. The problem is it is impossible to get any real privacy when living with someone else. Even if it is only roommates you love and adore inevitably they will knock on your door and want to chat or cry or gossip or just waste air. With family it’s come do this and come do that. Myself having a semi-overactive guilt reflex (which I’m working on) I feel the need to do these things because, after all, these people did raise me. Unfortunately if I don’t do it with a smile it’s “what’s wrong?” “why are you sad?” “are you okay?”. Everyday I say the same thing. Nothing is wrong, I am not sad and I am fine. I just hate questions. Really, really, really hate questions. At least the idiotic ones, which is painfully ironic since I tend to ask lots and lots of dumb questions but we’ll ignore that for now. Anyone know that annoying and rather irritating saying that has been floating around on forward for years now? The one that says what do you do if the only person that can stop your tears is the one that made you cry? My life has turned into the twisted teen movie version. How do you answer a question happily when the very asking of the question drives you insane? If no one understands why I said teen movie sorry, I’m not sure I could explain it.
I apologize for the pointlessness of this rant. I don’t really have a lot, more boredom than anything else. I suppose I am hoping if I type out a few pointless thoughts for your amusement/revulsion I can jumpstart my brain into producing something productive. Oooh, “producing something productive”. That was a terrible sentence! (Brownie points to whoever knows why.) I can’t even make a few good provocative comments. Ah well, it gets old when all you talk about is the body anyway. Not for me, but I am trying to keep your interests in mind. I have got to find something to do with myself before I implode though. Not explode, to explode would mean I would have to have something inside me with tremendous energy. Nope, I will implode, simply collapse in upon myself like the great black hole I live in. I’ll suck the life out of everyone around me like some many others in this town. That will be fun. I’m on my way to becoming a mindless, soul sucking zombie. It’s good to have goals.
Wednesday, July 02, 2003
Ah yes, it has been awhile. For anyone still checking this periodically, good for you! Now, on with the post...
I...am a hopeless romantic. Embarrassingly so as a matter of fact. I just watched an old 80’s flick, “Ladyhawke” and now find myself embroiled muttering some good old fashioned “ooh’s” and “aah’s”. How can I help myself? The main hero is tough and solid but helplessly in love. The heroine is tough and feisty. They defy all odds, kill a lot of people and live happily ever after. If that isn’t a love story I don’t know what is. Makes me want to find a little love of my own. Ah yes.
Okay, I’ll stop wasting everyone’s time now. The only thing worse than watching a couple smooch, grope and coo at each other is listen to a consummate single moon over not having anyone. Therefore, onward we go!
I had my tonsils out. Now there was an experience. I giggled like a mad elf before I passed out from drugs then I woke up crying. Isn’t that interesting? The worst part was, it didn’t hurt that bad. I wasn’t scared. I didn’t hurt. I just couldn’t stop crying. And of course the nurses don’t understand that I simply do not cry for no good reason. They just kept telling me it was all because of the medicine and left me alone. I hear they have a lot of cries after surgery. It pains me to be one of the masses. I fancied myself above such sillyness. Guess not. I did have a delightful conversation with my blood pressure machine though. I thought I heard someone mention something about morphine and wouldn’t know, a few minutes later I had named the machine next to me “William” and we were having a delightful conversation. The next few days were not nearly so entertaining but all in all it wasn’t too bad. I couldn’t talk for three or four days and I was dizzy for five or six, but not too shabby. A week later and I can almost eat and swallow without pain. No blow jobs for another week I think. But just imagine how much easier deep throating will be without tonsils to get in the way! Did I just type that? Oops, anyone who didn’t want to know that just forget those last lines there.
So that is just about all my exciting news. No breakthroughs, no deep thoughts, no epiphanies. I did find employment with another blue collar place for the summer so that is good, but that’s about it. I hope everyone is well and healthy. Have a drink in my honor and watch a chick flick. A little mushiness is good for the soul on occasion.
I...am a hopeless romantic. Embarrassingly so as a matter of fact. I just watched an old 80’s flick, “Ladyhawke” and now find myself embroiled muttering some good old fashioned “ooh’s” and “aah’s”. How can I help myself? The main hero is tough and solid but helplessly in love. The heroine is tough and feisty. They defy all odds, kill a lot of people and live happily ever after. If that isn’t a love story I don’t know what is. Makes me want to find a little love of my own. Ah yes.
Okay, I’ll stop wasting everyone’s time now. The only thing worse than watching a couple smooch, grope and coo at each other is listen to a consummate single moon over not having anyone. Therefore, onward we go!
I had my tonsils out. Now there was an experience. I giggled like a mad elf before I passed out from drugs then I woke up crying. Isn’t that interesting? The worst part was, it didn’t hurt that bad. I wasn’t scared. I didn’t hurt. I just couldn’t stop crying. And of course the nurses don’t understand that I simply do not cry for no good reason. They just kept telling me it was all because of the medicine and left me alone. I hear they have a lot of cries after surgery. It pains me to be one of the masses. I fancied myself above such sillyness. Guess not. I did have a delightful conversation with my blood pressure machine though. I thought I heard someone mention something about morphine and wouldn’t know, a few minutes later I had named the machine next to me “William” and we were having a delightful conversation. The next few days were not nearly so entertaining but all in all it wasn’t too bad. I couldn’t talk for three or four days and I was dizzy for five or six, but not too shabby. A week later and I can almost eat and swallow without pain. No blow jobs for another week I think. But just imagine how much easier deep throating will be without tonsils to get in the way! Did I just type that? Oops, anyone who didn’t want to know that just forget those last lines there.
So that is just about all my exciting news. No breakthroughs, no deep thoughts, no epiphanies. I did find employment with another blue collar place for the summer so that is good, but that’s about it. I hope everyone is well and healthy. Have a drink in my honor and watch a chick flick. A little mushiness is good for the soul on occasion.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
