I love Warren Ellis

“I ate the reindeer,” I told the children. “And Santa’s in Abu Ghraib with a hood over his head and a dog in his ass.”

After a while, I had to shout to make myself heard over the noise.

“What did you expect? Guy with a big beard breaks into your house at night to leave suspicious packages. Only a matter of time before he crashed that sleigh into an office block. Think about it. Man in a red suit who knows if you’ve been naughty or nice? He’s Satan. Santa, Satan. Anagram, see? And reindeer tastes good. I’ve saved you from Santa bin Laden, you little bastards.”

I leered at the squalling infants. “You know, I think there might have been a little glowing red nose on top of the pot of reindeer I had last night. We’ll have the rest of his terrorist cell at the North Pole in no time. Lots of people with beards and funny hats. You know what that means. And they’re all real short. Boys with false beards, I bet you. Terrorist paedophile cell.”

A man with a audio bud in his ear came up to where I was sitting.

“I think it’s time to leave now, Mr President,” he whispered.

- (c) Warren Ellis

realization

I've come to the realization that I have to actually work at interpersonal relationships. Not in the way that I don't want them and have to consciously make them work because of that, though. I want them. They just don't seem to come naturally. In my natural state, I would be living in my isolated bubble, waiting for people to approach me. With effort. I have to actually think about contacting people, and become determined to do it, in order for it to work. Most times I'm rewarded for this. It doesn't make it any less difficult, though. I suppose it's just a personality quirk. Believe me, though, it's nothing personal when I make myself unavailable. It's just a natural state. Not that I don't want to be disturbed; it's just easier that way. Sometimes you'll have to shake me out of it. I'll be grateful eventually, I promise.

You'll have to excuse me. I'm slightly drunk in addition to having difficulty keeping my eyes open. It's rather amazing that I managed to say something in as articulate a manner as I did, with minimal typos. Current non-controlled typing status: i shwer that i can sya things wihtous mainf a mistake. yed.

Hurray for lackings of restraint. Yes.

tonight

Haven't posted in a while. But we're talking very well tonight. Bunnyman has finally admitted his depression, and we can go from there. As if no one I'd ever talked to hadn't figured out his state of mind previously... I guess it's a bit like the "You always knew I was gay? Why didn't you tell me?" kind of thing. Anyway...

"Sometimes, the rain makes no sound.

I wear a glove made of your skin. It’s the colour of rain, soft and grey. It makes no sound, now, as I flex my fingers inside it. I want to touch myself and pretend it’s your hand. Love as leather. But I know I’m too far gone even for that now. I’m just a human bin filled with prescription pills, rinsed down with rainwater mixed with stolen medical alcohol and served in old vegetable tins.

Sometimes, the jagged edge of the tin cuts my lip. I look in the window and the only colour in the world is the red in my reflection.

The me you used to kiss thrashes like a cat in a sack, somewhere in the back of my head. Trying to get its claws through thick lithium. You wouldn’t know it to look at me. I am perfect and still. Moving only to swig more rainwater and alcohol from torn grey tin, looking out of the grey window at the grey world. Moving only to stroke your skin.

Sometimes, living makes no sound."

- (c) Warren Ellis

Just what I'm feeling...

look to the right

See the phoneswarm logo? Clickie. Then callie. Of course, on cells with free long distance is better. Just talked to a woman in Arizona. She was very nice.

if it's not one thing it's another

Our bunny died either last night or this morning. Bah.

On that note, I'm going to go and have breakfast.

meagunn is bizarro cultural ambassador

Some things on a short post...

Was explaining today at Caritas House booth what BiGLTM was to crazy urbanized/Americanized Japanese girl while she told a guy that he didn't need so many condoms just for his right hand... Then talking about cultural differences with my Japanese tutor and telling her about the "o-cha" death metal/pop song... Bowing as I left... Talking then to Sri Lankan desk staff guy about chick peas and vegetables and foreign languages... Earlier to Indian girl about same languages... And handing condoms to Achim, and realizing that cross-culturally, established stereotypes get thrown out the window... Kiddo keeps popping in on the phone and speaking to me in a mash of German and Japanese...

If we were to win the lottery tonight I want to host an exchange student. Might as well. Plus I think I'd set a rather interesting cultural example...

Woo hoo internationalism.

these are strange times

I really don't know what's been going on these past few days, weeks, months. I know where I should be, and that none of this is for fun, but the seeing and the getting there are two entirely different things. I should do all my work and be everywhere I'm supposed to be when I'm supposed to be there. Other than that, not much is asked of me. Why is that so difficult? But that isn't even the pinnacle, the apex...

It seems that some have a drive of sorts, what keeps them going, habitual things done regardless of circumstances. Life just rolls along unabated, effortlessly. I wonder if it's actually as difficult as I see it, inside, for everyone to keep things rolling. Mine is a stutter-stop movement. I've run out of gas and don't know where the nearest station is...

Very little drives me on a daily basis. Sleep, and food, but if I sleep all day, I have no need for food. Cigarettes maybe. Human contact? No. Class obligations? Certainly not. Only the fear of failure keeps me moving occasionally. Otherwise I would be content to sit in my own squalor with nothing but noise and the lack of thought alongside me.

I don't even think much anymore. Funny, that. I wonder where it's all gone. Wait awhile, and I won't wonder anymore. These are indeed strange times...

a sigh of relief

You make me feel like dancin'....gonna dance the night away...

Things are better. Not the same, but better than the past week. Major drama is over, hopefully, and I can return to my dramaless existance. Which, of course, makes me feel like dancin'.

However, apparently there must alwys be some sort of drama present somewhere with me. This is why I usually hate drama so. It's always around. And I don't like dealing with it. I found out yesterday that our neighbors plan imminently on tearing down our house. They've been clearing land in our backyard for their new one. One of the many things I don't understand about this situation is that they plan on selling their old property for the price of their new house. But they told Bunnyman that when they tear down our house, we can live in their old one until it sells. If they plan on buying the new house with their old one's earnings, how will we live in it? At any rate, the whole "we have to move" thing that's been going on for the past year and a half has reared its head again, and this time it's likely not going to go away as this involves the actual destruction of our house. I don't know. We'll have to see how it pans out this time...

kiddo comes through

Kiddo suggested that we take a week off. No communication. Then try to talk about things calmly, face-to-face. Beats getting irrational phone calls that consist of "fuck you!"

Thank you, kiddo. I bow to the relationship advice of a ten-year old.

There's a chance yet.

shellshock

He said he didn't want me in his life anymore. And I expressed remorse. He doesn't buy it. I don't know why. I'm dying. He's really dying. And I don't know what to do.

I hope this isn't another four years down the drain. That'd be almost a decade.

I am eleven years old. And I have no daughter.

ANGST

wir haben jetzt Angst, glaube ich... wir haben jetzt techinche Problemen... bitte sich Bereit halten...

this is a timeline wrought in years, painstakingly by hand, looping, and devoured. a day won't do, a year is the only base material for me.

this is called me keeping my mind off things

surveys of doom... here we go...

♦Single or taken: taken, likely.
♦Sex : I shall avoid the obvious.

♦Birthday: 2/24/84
♦Sign: pisces-ish.
♦Siblings: younger sister, jenny.
♦Hair color: right now, purple and white/grey.
♦Eye color: brown
♦Shoe size: 10 womens, 8 to 81/2 mens.
♦What are you wearing right now: black pants my ass hangs out of, zombie bunnies t-shirt
♦Where do you live: Morgantown, WV
♦Righty or lefty: right

------------------------------------------
♥Relationships♥
------------------------------------------

♦Do you have a bf or gf: yeah
♦Best place to go for a date: eh. somewhere not home? cos staying at home wouldn't constitute a date? i don't know.

------------------------------------------
♣Fashion Stuff♣
------------------------------------------

♦Where is your fav place to shop: someplace cheap. I still wear the clothes I had in high school. Whether they fit or not.
Tattoos or piercings: six ear piercings, one nipple. two tattoos. need more.

------------------------------------------
♠Faves♠
------------------------------------------

♦Color: burgundy.
♦Food: soup. and sushi.
♦Boys name: huh?
♦Girls name: what?
♦Subject in school: I never really liked school.
♦Animal: cats. and birds (corvidae family especially, but I really like parrots.)
♦Alcoholic drink: Noocassel
♦Celebrity: um. Sean Connery. Neil Gaiman. Or Cthulhu (he's pretty famous).
♦Veggie: brokkee and pease
♦Fruit: pineapples and mangoes
♦Place to visit: home
♦Month: um. October probably.
♦Show: *cough* most things on Cartoon Network *cough*
♦Juice: orange pineapple.
♦Ice Cream: ice cream makes my tumbly yell at me.
♦Breakfast: something that's not normally breakfast.
♦Cologne: whatever bunnyman is wearing
♦Favorite cartoon character: The King of All Cosmos. Well, he is animated.

-----------------------------------------
♣Have You Ever♣
------------------------------------------

♦Given anyone a bath: yeah
♦Smoked: constantly
♦Bungee jumped: no
♦Made yourself throw-up: yes
♦Gone skinny dipping: no
♦Been in the opposite sex's washroom: yes
♦Eaten a dog biscuit: yes
♦Put your tongue on a frozen pole: yes. it didn't get stuck. maybe I had a hot tongue.
♦Ever loved someone that made you cry: yes
♦Broken a bone: not that I know of.
♦Played truth or dare: yes
♦Been in a physical fight: yes
♦Been in a police car: no
♦Been on a plane: yes
♦Been in a sauna: no
♦Been in a hot tub: yes
♦Swam in the ocean: yes
♦Fallen asleep in school: constantly
♦Kissed your cousin: no. thank god. you've never seen my cousins.
♦Pictured your crush naked: yes
♦Ever had a sex dream: yes
♦Broken someone's heart: probably.
♦Cried when someone died: yes
♦Flashed someone: yes
♦Lied: yes
♦Sat by the phone all night waiting for a call: yes
♦Wished you were someone else: yes
♦Wished you were a member of the opposite sex: yes. and that I could switch back and forth at whim and no one would think it unusual.

♦Made out with JUST a friend: yes
♦Been rejected: yes
♦Been in love: yes
♦Been cheated on: yes
♦Done something you regret: yes
-----------------------------------------
♠First Thing That Comes to Mind♠
------------------------------------------
♦Red: window
♦Blue: yak
♦Happy: artichoke
♦Autumn: mile
♦Cow: scent
♦Greenland: ice

------------------------------------------
¢¯What Is?
------------------------------------------

♦Your good luck charm: don't have one.
♦Stupidest thing you have ever done: there are a lot that rank up there...
♦Whats your room like: cluttered with books and bottles and clothes
♦Your crush: anything friendly with boobs. hah.
♦Your most prized possession: home
♦Last thing you said: "v-bar v-bar mmm... pp is an adjunct. trees?"
♦What is beside you: a shoe and a syntax book
♦Last thing you ate: chicken sandwich
♦What kind of shampoo do you use: suave cheapo natural aloe
♦Worst thing that has happened to you this year: um. could be too early to tell.

------------------------------------------
♥Have You Ever Had♥
------------------------------------------
♦ Chicken pox: yes
♦Sore Throat: yes
♦Cold: yes
♦Stitches: no
♦Bloody nose: many many times.

------------------------------------------
♣Do you♣
------------------------------------------

♦Believe in love at first sight: not really.
♦Enjoy parks: depends on the park. usually.
♦Like picnics: yes
♦Like school: some of it yes, some of it no
♦What schools have you gone to: Beverly Elem, Elkins Middle, Elkins High, St. Ignatius Jesuit, WVU
♦Hate anyone: no one but me
------------------------------------------
♣Would You♣
------------------------------------------

♦Eat a live hamster for $1,000,000: I'd have to think about it. a million dollars is a lot of money.
♦Go to a hanson concert if you had a free ticket: no
♦Kill someone you didn¡¯t know for 15 billion dollars: if I could get away with it? yes.
♦If you were stuck on an island, what person would you want with you: Bunnyman. and a set of water wings for him (not technically a person)
♦If you loved someone and you were keeping something from them and it would hurt them if they found out, would you tell them: probably
------------------------------------------
♠Who♠
------------------------------------------

♦Who is the last person that called you: Matt
♦Makes you laugh the most: depends on the day and my mood
♦Makes you smile: everyone who doesn't make me frown. and some that do. sometimes.
♦Can make you feel better no matter what: me. well, that's not true always.

♦Was the last person you touched: matt's roomate bobby. gave him a stab to the kidney.
♦Was the person you talked to last: talk ot type? typed was robert, talk was dr. janson
♦You hugged: damn. probably bunnyman.
♦You Kissed: bunnyman
♦You yelled at: dr chalupa. to myself. by myself. in my room.
♦Broke your heart: it doesn't always get completely fixed enough for someone to break it again.
♦Told you they loved you: robert, by way of me saying I'd help him with excel.
♦Is your loudest friend: whoa. there's a lot of them. and they compete. very loudly.
------------------------------------------
♣Do You/Are You♣
------------------------------------------

♦Do you like filling these out: they keep me busy without the fear of being productive
♦Do you like yourself: em. i am myself.
♦Do you get along with your family: some of them.
♦Do you do drugs: life, love, cigarettes, alcohol, video games, words, caffiene the intarweb... i am a perpetual addict.
color your hair: uh. purple is not usually a natural color.
♦Have piercings below the waist: no
♦Habla espanol: me habla un poco espanol. il es muy malo. no me gustan las hamburguesas. me gusta el pollo, por favor. gracias.
♦Stolen anything over $50: no, but i've given it back.
♦Smoke: didn't we do this one before?
♦Obsessive: somewhat
♦Compulsive: isn't everything a compulsion of some sort?
♦Anorexic: no
♦Depressed: ehm...
♦Suicidal: i laugh at your silly attempts to analyze me.

analyze this.

I feel like shit.

Scenario:

Girl comes home to boy. Chats as normal, lovey-dovey, I love you. Boy is sick, hawks up random phlegm-balls every so often. Still stays up to chat with girl, but goes to bed early. Girl stays up another half hour, then goes to bed. Boy won't talk to girl the next day. Girl scratches head, wondering what she's done. Girl finds out at two a.m. the next morning that boy wanted her to come to bed and cuddle. Boy didn't say anything that night, no "Come to bed, baby," or name-calls or anything. Apparently boy has told girl that he wants to cuddle several nights brfore. Girl doesn't remember this and is made to feel like shit. Girl continues to get the cold shoulder the next day, during which girl says "I love you" and maked homemade burritos and brings them to his work and says I'm sorry and everything. Boy says "Don't be sorry, it's not important. You didn't do anything," to which girl thinks she obviously did and is an insensitive bitch or something. Boy says nothing outside job or home is important, therefore, that must not be important. Girl calls bullshit, to which boy says it's all his fault. Then he proceeds to say "I'll talk to you in a couple of weeks,"then hangs up. Not an 'I love you' from Saturday to Monday morning. But this is not important, apparently, and he's, as he says, "making a big deal out of nothing."

Huh? This behavior is more common than you think, and I have no idea as to how to deal with it, making me not just an insensitive bitch, but a confused and frustrated one. I'm sure it might be a little more typical if 'girl' and 'boy' were reversed. I just don't know how to figure this one out. My first impulse is to cry, and then to throw things. Neither of which will solve anything at all.

Sometimes I really don't understand how normal people are supposed to work...

"here I am expecting just a little bit too much..."

Every night people drop off to sleep, one by one, winking out like stars or lights in an apartment building, blink, wink, blink. Usually I'm the only one left. Makes me feel like I'm doing guard duty against the dark, one last standing outpost until the rest come back into service. I'm not sure why I can't sleep at night. Even when the day doesn't manage to knock me unconscious for a few hours, as soon as that sun goes down, I'm ready to go. Typical.

This weekend Bunnyman and I fought against one another in a lightsaber battle to the death. Well, to the 'extreme acquisition of welts'. He still has a large one on his leg. Still. Much beer was spilled and things generally went flying around the room. Plastic lightsabers, however, do not really make good replacements for katanas or bokens. Which is probably a good thing in this case, considering the size of that welt.

School goes slowly, and I find myself thinking less and pushing more, just wanting the whole thing to be over with so I can get on with things. Days are a string of approaches and avoidances helping me to avoid any real semblance of contimplative thought. Which is probably good. It's not nearly far enough into the semester to start moping. Ha. Besides, I am a rock. Thud, thud, goes me against the pavement. Laughing.

I'm excited about the prospect of seeing nice boobies on nice bodies doing interesting things soon. Even if I have to pay for the priviledge. Have you seen these boobies? They're really very nice. Certainly worth an admission fee.

I think I shall go be a pirate now. Manhaw is addicted to the Pokemon because of me, but he ought to be grateful that he is not also addicted to the Puzzle Pirates. I must play Hearts so I can afford to buy my leather boots. Woo.

procrastination

Jeeze, this semester seems to drag on and on and on... With each passing day comes the incredible lack of desire to keep going with it. I think things work out better when I don't get a daily dose of socialization. When I see people regularly, for some reason I feel like I've accomplished something that day and no longer have any need to do anything else. Meh. I need to straighten up my act, so to speak. Or something. It just feels like I'm floating on through... Hum.

There's a bit of satisfaction in finding out that someone you no longer need suddenly discovers how much they could have been needing you.

I'm a different person now.

Time to get to work.

blah.

I was going to write a nice insightful post about my past, which would undoubtably be a rehash of other such posts, but I just ate a large bowl of ramen, and if the ghosts can be started by a spot of mustard, then thus can they be taken away. Or also by fish cake.

I don't know. Where do interests diverge? It was kind of a juvenile thing I suppose, but when you find someone who so closely mirrors yourself, you don't see it as such, and you sure as hell don't get over it that quickly. I mean, it's been four years now. But when a person takes up such a large span of your past, existant or not, you can't help but to dwell on it from time to time. Even if it is narcissistically. Cowboy Bebop was what I was talking about. I never got into the show. Everything else in twine, but Cowboy Bebop. I suppose there's got to be somewhere where interests diverge.

Bunnyman's favorite musicians are Pink Floyd and Tracy Chapman. Tracy Chapman? Perhaps I have an argument for being the reluctant lesbian after all...

Forgive my sleep-addledness. Maybe this makes no sense to any of you. The sun is up; time for vampires to be in bed. And the vampirized...

it's the end of the world as we know it...

I know I haven't updated in a while. Summer doesn't seem to have reduced the stress-level of school and being here such a distance away from home. Donating blood yesterday seems to have lowered my immune system and the devil cold I'd been fighting for the past three weeks has once again reared its ugly head. I'm nursing it on oj and beer and cold medicines, planning on sleeping the weekend through to kick this crap. But it's worth it. All I've been looking at the past four days are images of destruction in my dream city, and no one really stepping up to properly help. I'll do anything I can; right now I have no money, but I have blood. So there it goes, hopefully to someone there who needs it. Or to free up reserves to send to them. I'm seriously thinking about going there to do relief work when they finally start letting people into the city, when they finally stop pointing arms at one another and start organizing this situation. New Orleans is my city. It's the city of anyone who has an indepedent spirit, who feels an attachment to the traditions in this country. I may have only been there twice, but it's the city I was meant to belong to. Now, it's gone. The people may be resilient, but it only goes so far... I hope any of you who read this do whatever you can to help. It doesn't take money (which, face it, a student doesn't have) or even resources. Donate your time. Donate your labor. Please. They're suffering horribly, and it's awful to bear watching this happen to my city...my mutterland...

Here's some links to the latest proper (not politically influenced) news to come from folks on the ground, right there on site:

The Interdictor: Holing up in an office building

NOLA Metroblog

LSPD Police Scanner

WWLTV News streaming feed (running sporadically)

Stay informed. Find a way to help. These are your people....

boy oh boy

I have returned. Please, save all your applause for after the show... No, really. This summer was something of an oddity, a brief rustling flash of energy. Job hunting went directly to pulling open-close shifts as a professional taco stuffer and neglecting my paper entirely. Car accidents, scooter wrecks, becoming friends with abused ex-wives who subsequently kneecap their ex-husbands and get arrested, red tape car bureaucracy, work, work, work....

The taco people bought me a good-bye cake on my last day. I really wasn't sure what to say other than thank you, but i'm afraid I might have come across as a bit unappreciative. They're good people and it's a good workplace. I'll stop in and see them on weekends.

Bunnyman's taking my departure hard as usual. I told Manhaw tonight that it's worse for him than it is for me, just for the fact that while I have people to come back to, people I care about and enjoy being around, he doesn't. His nine non-summer months are somewhat lonely. I wish he could move up here, but we can't afford it. For every one step forward, those two steps back have to be taken, and sometimes they accumulate and you take them all at once.

I can't see quite straight due to exaustion, but i don't want to go to sleep. Nothing's put away yet, and I don't know when it will be. Hm. Can't really type anymore, though....

'Night, oh bare white-walled room of mine...

a lovely bunch of coconuts

Still doing jobby and schooly-related things here. Had to come and check and see what my professor said about my abysmal paper; apparently two other people in the class were taking incompletes, and I can take more time on my paper if I'd like. That was all she said about it, which likely means that she thought it was just an abysmal an aborted attempt as I did. Yay.

Going to apply for jobs today. This would have been done earlier except for the fact that -someone- keeps deciding to keep me up all night playing Battle for Westnoth on my computer and then wonders why I sleep all day. Yeah, I didn't do much the day before. But you people tire me out and two hours isn't really enough to help me recover from that. The thing about trying to get back into a worky and homey state of mind is that my body stops being able to have nights like that. I crave sleep, and am going to continue craving it until I get back on a normal schedule, dammit.

Our neighboe wants me to come and work for her. 15 hours a week, at 6 bucks an hour. Like hell... If I wanted pay like that, I'd have stuck with Shop n' Save. Plus, she's kinda evil. I don't know if I'd like the knowledge that I'm going to hate my coworkers in advance.

So that's whot. Finding food for now...then workplaces...then Kiddo and sleep. Yes, sleep...

paper paper yucky pants

At the parent's, working on the paper of doom. I actually have some pages. Unfortunately, I sort of have until midnight tonight. Not good. If only I wasn't so damned tired and distracted...

Cleaned a fungus forest out of the laundry room last night, and discovered pieces of freshly shed snake skin from a rather large snake. Come to think of it, the dryer hasn't been drying properly for the past several days. Hm. I think if it attempted to eat our rabbit, our rabbit would eat it instead.

She's a very large rabbit.

Living in limbo I think is exausting me. It's hard to combine school with home. And it's hard to work on a paper when you have a 9 year old jumping around, shooting your computer with nerf darts and trying to have strange conversations with you about religion.

I need to not be distracted. I need to not be tired. I need to forget, and I need the job info I got for a 10+ buck an hour job varnishing boards to come through.

But right now I need to work on my paper. I really do love to prolong my misery...

shh.

My sister's here, asleep. She has no idea that I'm in the next room, typing and downloading away. Hah. Maybe I should be nice and wake her up before I go. Or not.

We have our good days and our bad days. Bad days are usually the result of one or the other of us being in some kind of funk. The night before last he began to ramble about the usual subjects, and for some reason I just didn't want to listen to him. He annoyed me, and I was more focused on my growing beer buzz and the video game I wanted to play. Yesterday, he ignored me because I wanted to see his tooth. Hm. But the night before that, we had a great night of sitting around and listening to music.

Things move on.

I have decided to go back to Aegis. I hated the place, but I lasted there for a year previously, so I figure I can go back for a few months, especially since they wouldn't have the time to re-credit card train me. The hours are regular and I can have 'em late, and the pay is one of the best temp starting wages in the area. I must be crazy. At least there'll be no more 8 a.m. shifts. I'd have to trade the downers for uppers, and we can't be doing that...

What does it mean when you still have frequent dreams about a person you last saw four years ago? I kind of wish he'd vacate my headspace. Or not.

woo.

Grades were actually really good this semester. Only one B. I don't know how this happened. It may only be encourging me to half-ass my college education, but it's also reinforcing the assumption that I am not capable of failing except under my own lack of motivation. When I was a kid, I would get yelled at because of Bs and Cs. Cs are fine for some people. Just not you, because we know you can do better. Yeah, it's still like that.

Still no job. Need to work on the paper, though. I'd also really like Bunnyman to get a career change by the end of the summer. If everything goes the way it did yesterday, though, I don't think it's going to happen. If I could call people and set up job interviews for him, I would. I just don't think it would put him in a very good light if his girlfriend called up and asked for a job on his behalf.

Eh. Time flies by...

syncronicity

That's the last time I rent depressing movies and buy a relatively large quantity of beer at the same time with Bunnyman. I don't want to worry. But I do.

Showered with late mother's day presents last night, the kind you make at school and color with crayon. One of which was a coupon from Kiddo saying she'd clean my dorm room. Another saying she'd love me always. I'll have to hold her to both of those.

Now I need a job. Well, I need to finish that paper by the 21st, and then I need a job. The High Life Lounge is hiring. I might try there if they pay enough, just for a change of pace. It would be interesting and depressing, watching people who can't afford much, going in and spending their entire paychecks on video lottery machines and beer.

Maybe I won't apply there. Hm. Need a job...

and again

Gave the car a little owie today. Fixed it with a screwdriver, sorta. Bunnyman doesn't know yet. Shhh...

I took the heat for a few unpaid bills earlier. Figured it was the least I could do. Still no job yet. It hasn't been that long, but I'm getting a little antsy. Not enough to do 'cept scare the piss out of myself with video games. I hate you, Fatal Frame 2. I hate you so much, I think I'll play some more.

Kiddo is in a gang up in Bridgeport. One of those vicious backcountry suburban ones. She even has a gang name: Dice 90. I found this out yesterday when Bunnyman was driving, looked over at me, and said, "Hey, Kiddo has a gang tattoo." I looked back, and lo and behold, there was a picture of a die above the number ninety drawn on her bicep in ballpoint pen. Apparently the other kids have them, too. Ice 5, 00A (double-a), etc... She's only nine years old.

Kids. Go figure.

Hopefully I will be updating this somewhat regularly. Now, to home, and to snooze until my homegirl-G gets off the bus...

this just in

I have snuck into my parents house. Well, actually, they always leave the back door unlicked. Good thing to know.

Summer has started off well. I've fixed most of my problems, and I now own a scooter. Not just any scooter, but a motor scooter. I rode around on it a good bit today and will continue to do so until fall, so that Bunnyman doesn't worry about me getting squished somehow when I bring it to Morgantown. There's even room for a bitch on the back, hurrah!

As redneckiness begins to consume me once more, I'd just like to say that I miss you all.

physiology

"I love you despite the sex. If it was all about sex, I would have left you a long time ago... ha ha, just kidding..."

No, but it's true. Sex can be fun, but why must everyone be hung up on it? Friendships and commitments are often enough for me without sexual baggage. That's what the gool ol' five-finger shuffle is for. Still, I hope he really was just kidding...

So he'll be here in a few hours to begin carting my stuff away. Yet another move commences, and I'm not done packing yet. Not even started, really. I'm finding it harder and harder to motivate myself to do anything, and instead I hole up in here like a little hermit crab who hasn't changed its shell in a few days.

I suppose the first step is to throw things away. Then to pace and worry. Then on to heavy lifting and whatnot. Hum. Part of me is quite reluctant...

Often I just don't know what to think of myself. And here I am, using up my daily word allotment again. It is time to get motivated and move on, to stop snivelling and shivering and become the warrior I once was. Reminds me of something I wrote once...

self esteem poem

fear me.
I am on fire,
consuming myself,
ashes swept away
only to be delivered again by the wind,
stronger.

I have walked in the footsteps
of angels and giants;
I have touched the hundred-year-old carvings
of a dead poet on an ash tree;
I have strolled medieval streets
where discos shock the concrete with noise.
I am a force with which to reckon.

I am a sun-swept warrior of the tundra,
I plumb the moors and climb ropeless on the rockface;
I cannot be denied.
You must hear what I have to say,
the good, the bad, the ugly,
their eyes turned front and faces slack;
I am static noise!
You can't turn me off, I'll always be there,
lurking between the stations.

----

That was from another time. Anyway, since I can no longer deny the fact that it's Thursday (the sun had been up for a while, so it's no fluke), I'll be leaving tomorrow. If anyone wants my phone number back home, let me know. Otherwise I will be a rather difficult little beast to get a hold of for the next few months. Messages may or may not be checked. You know how it is. But my phone will still, to the best of my knowledge, be active in certain areas.

Now. Off to disinfect. And on with the lifting...

(...and i still haven't finished that paper goddamnshitcockfuckassdamncunt...)

loser.

Still no paper yet. I don't know what's wrong with me... Now is excuse-making time. Or I could just tell her the truth, that I'm a loser and can't handle her crazy work. I am ambitious when it comes to ideas, just not necessarily in the follow-through.

Oh well.

i suck. seriously.

Shit. I've just fucked Bunnyman's expectations up to hell and back again, he's stressed, I'm stressed, and my ueber-sensitivity the past few days hasn't been helping any at all. 3 exams today, a paper Wednesday, trying to get packed and moved out, personal life conflicting with school life...

It's like every time I turn around I find yet another example that I'm not what I want to be, nor what I pretend to be, and I'm not looking for consolation and a pat on the back, I know I am awful to people in my eager-to-please and not-coming-through ways, my constant idiocy and my lack of any sort of tact or knowledge of what's going at all times in my own head. I seem to be craving some kind of brutality, wishing that everyone would finally tell me what I really am and to fuck off so I can stop slapping myself in the face with it needlessly. This isn't really mental masturbation or a wonderful example of pouty, angsty self-loathing and whining. I am fucking frustrated (and it's very cold in here) and really want to find a way to fix this. I want to be better, not wallow in this pile of sludge. I just don't know how. I need to accept things like I did once, but so many times I'm called into question and the only answer I have is a big fat blank. I used to be so justified. I don't know what happened.

I'm sitting here tired, shivering, hungry, and crying and I need to study. I needed to vent, though. Vent vent vent... I don't know what's going on. Tonight wasn't a good night, and placation has no place here.

"You're the reason I get up and do it every day..." Yeah, and that's why I feel so shitty when I disappoint you.

Self-negation. I'll go fuck myself and study. Forget about it. It never existed in the first place.

Whine whine whine... It's all my own fault, really, and I'm the only one who can fix it.

In a way, Friday can't come soon enough so I can return to the mundaneness of family life and hopefully stop finding reasons to beat the shit out of myself. In a way, I don't want it to come. Ah, hell...

it's whatever you thought before...

Didn't wake up 'till 3 today, with the alarm having been going off for three and a half hours. Apparently the loud cocaine song isn't working anymore. I have found a .wav file of a very annoying, ear-splitting scream. Perhaps that'll work for a while. Or at least it'll get people barging into my room wondering why people keep screaming in terror. This is yet another reason why I shouldn't have a roommate. I really don't think they'd be able to cope very well with my computer repeatedly screaming for hours in the morning...

Such ambition everyone has... except for me, of course. Had a good afternoon and a strange evening/night. (Note that translated into insomniac time afternoon is 5-11 and evening is midnight to 2 or 3...night is anything after that until I go to bed. Heh.) I want to be around people and I don't at the same time. I need to curl up in my hole with an "open" sign hung outside or something. I really don't understand myself sometimes.

There've been some strange personal connundrums rolling around in my head for a while now and I don't really feel like I'm in a position to do anything about them. I seem to have forgotten how to remove myself from boxes. It's almost as if, say, in your formative years, you hop from box to box, trying them out for shape and size. Eventually you find that box that feels "just right" and you jam yourself in so hard that you get stuck, which doesn't matter since it's a good fit. Until you notice, at some point down the road, that your back starts to hurt. Yeah, I know, you shouldn't try to fit yourself into a box, we're constantly redefining ourselves, you should learn to accept yourself, blah blah blah &c. Unfortunately, despite what anyone says, there are some things you have to pigeonhole yourself into for sake of explanation. Just for that sake. It's something I have to figure out on my own.

Maybe these kinds of things wouldn't happen if I didn't confuse myself and everyone around me with distractions, diversions and crypticspeak. It's all fine and dandy to be honest with others, but if you're not honest with yourself... I don't know. Sometimes I think my non-confrontational and generally agreeable ways go a little too far.

I'm confusing myself now. I guess you can read into this whatever you want and it might still be right on some level, considering the fact that I can't bring myself to speak about anything personal on a level below metaphor. Nietzsche said something to the effect that language is nothing but an endless string of metaphors, so I suppose it's appropriate enough.

Suffice to say that something just ain't right. I guess I'll go to bed now. Always the last one up, keeping guard on the rising of the sun...

Maybe.

"yes."

I had a good night tonight. For once. I don't know, every night seems full of its own consequences and disguises. I think this is the state of mind I used to be in...

When you hid, it was to protect you from danger. You always had to have walls up; past experience proved this. I stopped when I was destroyed. The walls broke; I was standing naked and utterly obliviated. The obliviated seek naught more than more oblivion. It is home. Keeping the walls up is tiring, though, and eventually,inevitably, they will come crashing down.

I am in my bubble. I shattered it. One who has experienced oblivion and has come back tends to no longer seek it except in the small things. Just a little taste...

Experiencing true oblivion and returning has an odd brief aftereffect...you lose days. I suppose they're the toll fare.

I have a purpose for all of these ramblings. I dunno if it's visible or not...

Heh. Tonight was good 'cause the bubble was there and gone at the same time...

Mindsets. Whee....

things I miss: photo montage

Lying on a bed in a crap hostel in San Francisco next to him, avoiding the bedbugs and smelling the ocean from drying clothes...

Spooning in bed under pounds of duvets, keeping warm and sneaking my nose into the back of her neck...

Stealing her car back from him on a mad winter's trip south. Getting stuck in a snowstorm, and parking at an abandoned gas station where we swore we saw a shotgun poking out the window...

Sitting on the curb at 3 a.m. talking when everyone else had gone home, feeling thermals swirl around us in the snow...

Driving to Ohio with naught but a jar of dimes...

Watching as he wrote our names in crayon in the restauraunt booth. Feeling the sting as I noticed years later that it was still there...

Meeting him clandestinely at the hotel and spending the entire night wrapped naked together in white sheets...

Climbing the cliff-face to a small domed library looking out over the sea...

Going to the Kurort with genuine concern by her, after being harassed by her brother to drink more...

Walking up the hill at sunrise, carving a certain symbol in a certain tree...

Reading at my first open mic with the frenchman and the german, having men put my coat on me and returning home along medieval streets and seashores...

Arriving in Jackson's Square at 5 a.m. and chatting with the punks and bums...

Curling up with a book and peppermint tea with honey in a room turned church, lit by candlelight...

Walking alone in a long black coat through the middle of the street, seeing the wind swirl hundreds of shed feathers through my coattails...

Standing on the cliff at Inis Mor, looking down, and seeing nothing but white, like the world was unfinished...

Hiding in a boat with drunken strangers from the Guardi...

Being taken in the backseat of the car by her, heels dragging the ground...

Coming back to him in the dark and having him ask me to stay...

Crashing a wedding in dust-smeared clothes...

Daring them to laugh as I tripped on the satin...

Crashing a New Year's party and dancing to Irish trance...

Drowning the car along a riverbank in the rain...

Frisbee and canned vegetable soup on the banks of the Mississippi

Remembering the little things like snapshots in my mind, better than any photo album...

my professors are stalking me

Another week, another weekend that follows. This one was the last one I'll be going home for before the year's over and I get to undertake the wonderful task of entering the workforce yet again, making me forget that school even exists until I have to haul my crap out of the kitchen and a hundred miles north again. This time, I am halfway done. Hopefully. We'll have to see.

I went to see my sister in a play this weekend with the same program in the same theatre I practically grew up in, but this time with the younger siblings of people I knew performing and me paying admission. That's the first time I've ever gone to an Apprentice performance as part of the audience, and I have to say that despite the strange sensation of being on the other side of the fishbowl for once, it wasn't as droolingly bad as I'd thought. It wasn't bad at all, especially considering the play was "Seussical" (??) and most of the kids had never been taught how to sing onstage. My sister gave me some pains, though, not from a bad performance but from the ridiculously overexaggerated facial expressions she wore. Every time I see those looks normally, it usually means she's about to burn something or attack someone with her teeth. Pretty easy to see why I cringed. I keep telling her that it's really not a good idea to follow in my footsteps considering where they led me, but she doesn't listen. Not much I can do about it, I suppose. At least she quit smoking and hasn't had anyone call the police on our parents yet.

We later rented House of Flying Daggers, and Evil Dead parts one and two. I was formerly ashamed to say I'd never seen the Evil Dead movies, but no longer! Bunnyman tried to get to the bottom of my zombie obsession (why does everyone always seek explanation?), and several dirty moments later, we managed to conclude that Bruce Campbell chopping people up with a chainsaw hand makes me, ehm, excited, but we really have no explanation why. I don't find him, or zombies for that matter, particularly fetish-worthy. I think Bunnyman was just looking for excuses. House of Flying Daggers is awesome, by the way.

And one of my German professors managed to find Bunnyman's cell phone number and called a very groggy me at 11 am in Elkins to discuss the presentation she's been harassing me about for the past week. I wonder how many people she called to find that number out... Not that it's a difficult one. Maybe she used some kind of crazy German deduction technique that I've yet to develop. Nontheless, it was very strange. Professors should not stalk me. Weirdness abounds...

What can you really do when the sun's up and you still can't sleep? The brain keeps on ticking away... Just one more hopeless thing to add to a whole list of hopeless things that, somehow, usually end up being resolved. Doesn't keep me from annotating and worrying about them, compiling lists which in turn contribute to the reason I can't sleep. Sometimes you can't win...

bar bar bar

Things come in threes, didn't you know? I came back from the bar. This is a bar entry. And I shall not edit it.

Things are very strange. I went to Vice with several people, feeling like the centre point, and I don't usually do that. Let it "all hang loose" and all. I keep hitting the damned caps lock key. So much for not editing, huh?

I dunno. Sometimes my personality only really comes out through drucgs, be it socially acceptable ones like alcohol and nicotine and caffiene. And I contemplate. What am I really hiding, that's so unacceptable that I can only reach it through artificial means? (I'm really having trouble typing. Ha.) Only I know the answer to that. I take the burden not noticably, but acceptablingly (what kind of word is that??). I take burdens. I do nothing with them. Only accept them and carry them with me. Give me everything. I will move it for you. Maybe I'm in the wrong career field.

But honestly, I don't try to do it. I think too much anyway. Oh, how my old-school website would have benefited from drunk ramblings, where one is having trouble finding the correct keys...

I'm not making a relevant comment here. Decide for yourselves. Maybe I;ve got too many barricades. Perhaps I should be drunk all the time. I talk well. Ha.

Seeing yourself from an outside perspective is important. I look at my sloppy self in the mirror and contemplate. Would I be the same if I wore cleavage-shirts and went for pizza after the bar?

Probably not.

This is all irrelevant, you know.

Ha.

jitters

So I've been awake since 9 am which is rather early for me, and it's now getting on 3:30 and I can't sleep. The day was spent being dragged up and down the hill by various parties, and resultantly (is that a word?) I'm so very tired and yet I'm wide awake like I had too much caffiene, or speed, or something. Except without the jitters. I guess this isn't too much different than any other night... except I've usually had a few lapses in consciousness in the interim. Eh. Things still suck. Here's a long question meme to keep me occupied and properly procrastinating. They say it's the world's longest meme, but I've deleted a lot of questions that are either stupid or obvious. Have fun. Ha.

FAVOURITE
Colour: Burgundy
Song: Lovesong by The Cure
Stuffed animal: Howard the Elephant. Stuffed animals are therapeutic, shut up.
Video game: Ahh, Katamari Damacy, I love you...
TV show: Contrary to appearances, I really don't watch TV. It's just on.
Flower: Lilacs.
Scent: That smell when rain hits asphalt after a hot day.
Animal: Raven
Comic book: The Sandman. Read it. Now.

DO YOU
Play an instrument? : I play the flute, but don't have time anymore. Rock flute is an untapped genre, excepting Jethro Tull.
Like to sing?: Yes, actually. But only to people I enjoy.
Like to play sports? : NO.
Have more than 5 TVs in your house?: WTF? Who needs that many TVs?
Have any special talents/skills?: I can write a 16-page research paper in a day.That's definitely a useful skill.
Excercise daily?: If walking up stairs counts as excercise... then no.
Like school?: School is a necessary evil.
Sing the alphabet backwards?: Do I? No, no I don't.
Speak any other languages? : German, and a little bit of French and Spanish. Enough to ask how much the vodka costs, which is all you really need anyway.
Stay up for more than 24 hours?: That is a given.
Eat a whole pizza?: The formatting of these questions is beginning to confuse me.

HAVE YOU EVER
Snuck out of the house? : I only ever had to sneak out once. I went through a window when I was called to perform amateur medical services on a friend who couldn't go to the hospital, involving liquor, a homemade tourniquet, and a sewing kit. The rest of the time, I just left.
Cried to get out of trouble? : Couldn't if I wanted to. Tears don't work like that.
Gotten lost in your city?: Yeah. All the time.
Seen a shooting star?: Often. The wishes rarely come true, though.
Stolen something important to someone else?: No, but I made the same friend above return the neighbor's iMac once. Locks on apartments should be better.
Solved a rubiks cube?: Hah, only if you count removing all the stickers. That's the best way.
Gone out in public in your pajamas?: I usually do.
Cried over a girl?: Yes.
Cried over a boy?: Yes.
Laughed and had milk come out of your nose?: Nope. It was pickle juice. That burns more.
Kicked a guy where it hurts?: Sometimes I'd like to. But then karma'd bite me in the ass.
Been to a casino?: A few. Casinos are strange, and I don't understand them.
Gotten stitches?: Should have. Didn't. Got some in my throat.
Drank a whole gallon of milk in one hour?: I would die. Or, at least my digestive system would.
Bitten someone? : Um...
Been to disneyland/disneyworld?: Yes. Probably wouldn't go again.
Been to niagra falls?: No, but I've made replicas in swimming pools. They yell at you for that.

WHEN'S THE LAST TIME YOU
Saw A Movie In Theaters: I can't even remember...
Had a snow day: That was a long time ago, too.
Had a slumber party: Is that a euphamism? If so, then not too long ago...
Cursed: Fuck.

FRIENDSHIP
Do you have a best friend?: I stopped ranking them a long time ago.
Have you ever liked one of your friends?: Um... Huh?
Do you have more guy friends or more girl friends?: I can't tolerate many females. Step away from the Cosmo...
Do you miss any of your old friends? : Sometimes. I wouldn't want a lot of them to come back, though.
Has a friend of yours ever died?: A few. Consequence of getting older and having dumb friends, I guess.
Whats the dumbest thing you've done with a friend?: Kidnapped a ward of the state? I guess that was pretty dumb. Not dumb enough to not do it twice, though.
What was your first kiss like? How old were you?: I was 15 and it was with a 22 year old guy named Nicholas. I knew him for a week. He tasted like grain and asked permission for everythig he did. Likely for good reason, thinking back on it...
What's the most sexual thing youve done with the opposite sex?: Um. Sex.

Maybe I'll be able to empty my head now. Lay down, child... You've wasted enough time here.

time to breathe

I had a lot of time to think this weekend... most of which was spent wrapped in a sheet on the couch dead to the world and having very strange dreams. Sometimes my dreams occur in the same bizarre settings enough that I think those places may really exist somewhere. Like the maze-house with the basement that wants to kill me, and victorian eaves and grand halls all through the upper floors. Or the hotel I wander alone. Or the circus in the town with the mechanical doves and feathers. Dreams, even when they're bad, are nice. The most recent one involved a lot of people I know and some I don't, swimming in a place covered in pools and fountains. There were fish and trees, and I had done something bad.

Bunnyman and I got to talk a lot this weekend, not really about anything important, just talk. I think we figured out why it's always so cold in the older rooms of our house when I mentioned that the bathroom door opened all by itself that afternoon. We talked about ghosts and also about life, childhood, all that. I really don't know what I'd do without a lot of the people in my life. It's a support system I'm not used to, but am incredibly gratetful for. A strange season's passing through now, and even though I would probably never ask for help wading through it, it's a nice feeling that if I were to ask, help would come. Just that can be enough, and I am grateful.

Sometimes you feel like you're made of glass, even though you weren't before, and you don't want anyone to know about this transformation so you continue to heave and haul as normal, but the slightest step could shatter you into a million pieces...and you don't care. You anticipate the crack, you look forward to the day you finally crumble, because maybe whatever comes after will be much more finely honed and well-constructed. And if nothing replaces your glass self, then perhaps it's for the best, because you were a liability with all those chipped edges and sharp points. You look forward to it, regardless.

I keep still and mum, and wait for the sun to rise...

waves crashing

I'm in a weird place right now. I've been feeling it all evening, this resounding blank wonder and the silence that consumes everything, including myself. It reminds me of a place I used to be, long ago, where nothing felt like anything and I used to bleed every night to make myself feel anything at all.

The psychological community doesn't understand cutting. Everyone I've ever talked to who has never been through it themselves seem to think it's some kind of cry for attention, a neutered suicide attempt intended to elicit help. I guess for some people, it is. For others, it's a punishment they think they deserve, to absolve themselves. For still others, it's simply anger at their bodies. For me, it was never any of those things. It was just a way to feel. There were all these emotions that I should have been experiencing, and maybe appeared to be experiencing on the outside, but never was. It was all a front, some cracked mask hardened over my skin that changed constantly. Inside, I was silent. Waves crashed over me, and I felt nothing.

I sensed those waves closing in again tonight. I don't want to cut again. I hoped I was beyond that by now.

I wanted to be around people, to experience the white noise made by voices and movement, snatches of conversation keeping their distance for fear of being consumed with the rest of me. I just wanted to watch, couldn't really do anything but, and instead busied myself on idle things. Maybe it was just the unspoken emotions of others running wild that were keeping mine silent.

We were talking about touch, and I distanced, and couldn't come back. Instead of freaking out, I go away. And I long to come back, I want it, but instead I stand, mute.

Depression isn't sadness. It's nothing. Nothing at all. I smile and carry on...

Where did all of this come from, all of a sudden? I don't want to do it again... I can't talk about it. Someone take me home...

that is who I used to be and this is who I am today

Yeah, it's been a while. A little too long to really remember what happened in the interim. That's okay. I'm here now.

Pride week, the first one I've participated in, is interesting. It has the effect of making me feel incredibly involved and accomplished one day, then disconnected and hide-y the next. Usually it takes a few days of being out of the loop for me to really feel uninvolved in the lives of others. Yay for acceleration! No, seriously, I went and got my face painted then ate lunch with Sarah and Mike the Linguist (huzzah for fellow language-nerds), but other than that... I slept through the other events or had class. Not much to report. Except I finally filed my taxes, and am now mourning the death of TeleFile.

I got on a bit of a nostalgic kick, and went and investigated my ancient, first website. The thing's about eight years old now and still floating around on the internet, mostly intact, because Angelfire apparently deletes nothing. It's a time capsule of sorts, or a snapshot, of me in a time where I couldn't really comprehend being me. Judging from it (and a lot of just-as-old forum posts that come up when i search myself, yay Google), I seem to have a long history of disappointing people. Apparently I am very good at it, because it seems to happen when I'm not even trying. This is reflected in everything I do: schoolwork, real work, voluntary work, relationships, personal maintenance, home maintenance... everything. Someone's inevitably saying about me, "Oh, she didn't show up" or "Oh, she didn't do this like she said she was going to". Maybe it's a sign of imaturity, that I need to take on more responsibilities and "step up" to my prescribed role in life? Maybe it's a sign of pathological laziness? I really don't know, and I really need to find a way to fix it. I start to become afraid that I'm disappointing people on a regular basis, especially on the relationship end. Maybe I have too many friends to keep track of, and should try to be more of a loner. Except, that's no fun. At all. I marvel at people who can keep so many things balanced at once, and still have time for things relating to themselves.

Bunnyman, I feel sorry for. I'm starting to think that I'm really disappointing him on the business end of things, and yet I know he loves me, and I love him, but is love always enough? I want to think so, but once again I have this fear that it isn't, and that I push him too far and make him miserable. He won't leave me, I know, but it's more than just not being alone. I care about his well-being, whether he does or not, and I don't want him to be miserable. I certainly don't want to be the cause of it. Life seems to be a perpetual struggle to better yourself to your own standards, and it's kind of odd that you can never be completely satisfied with yourself, always striving internally to be better. Maybe it's just me. I honestly don't know.

Forgive me if I'm insensitive. Believe me, later I'm sensitive to a fault...

sleepless

So I really should be asleep right now. I have to wake up in about three hours, the sun's up, and I'm just sitting around on my computer, thinking about pasts and futures like I usually do... Something about actually lying down and going to sleep kind of fills me with a huge "but I don't wanna!", and it's been a while since I've written a proper entry. So...

Easter was interesting. After my sleep-deprived week, all I wanted to do was be unconscious for a good twelve or so hours. This disappointed both me and Bunnyman, who was going to go Easter shopping, and when he had trouble motivating me to move my lazy ass out of bed, he left. I was confused and sad, even though it was a little thing, and so spent the rest of the day rather hungry because there was no food in the house, playing Katamari Damacy and running to the door at the slightest indication of a car. I pissed him off because I was sleepy. Dammit. Moodier and moodier every day, someone needs to offer him a job that pays at least 24k a year before we both go crazy. I'm not at the end of my rope by any means; past history has shown that I can handle a hell of a lot more than this in relationships. I don't let things go that easily. But still, I thought the woman was supposed to be the moody and unpredictable one in the relationship. Sheesh. Maybe he should start taking Midol until he finds a job that doesn't make him want to commit arson.

So we have a long talk about religion over many beers and some mindless movies. He was reading my facial expressions amazingly in his drunken state, and asks me what made me give up God. It's true that I used to go to church, and that at some point I stopped going and began to view Christianity as a kind of non-option. When he asked me that, though, I realized I really couldn't pinpoint any real defining moment that made me say, without a doubt, "Well, gee, God sucks." I really don't know. So I've been thinking about it a bit, and the past again. Every once in a while, I get one of those revelation-type memories that I'd forgotten a long time ago, usually something in my childhood, that almost explains something, like the feeling of comfort I get in small, dark spaces. Either that, or it's a little thing, like suddenly remembering the first time I saw a penis (It was on a little Mexican boy, running around Paramus Park in New Jersey, naked as the day he was born with his little sister. I was about 5.) Maybe someday I'll get a flash that explains why, or when, I lost faith. Or that tells me if I ever had any at all.

Perhaps he's taken to task to convert me. To "accept into my HEART the ONE true Lord Jesus CHRIST!" or something like that. I do think he's missing one thing, religion-wise, though. Faith in a God is not a bad thing by any means, but the one thing you need to have faith in above all is yourself. If God wants him to do something, how will he be able to if he doesn't have faith in himself to do it first?

Anyway, enough of that. Religion can be a big off-button for people sometimes. You can see them power down like a robot whenever it's mentioned, voom... I do it myself every once in a while. Voom...

Things are complicated. They will always be complicated. They will never be simple. We, of course, strive to make them simpler. That, in turn, makes other things even more complicated. Is there a balance in complicatedness that has to be maintained? What happens when we try to make things more complicated? What becomes simpler? I'll have to think about this more later.

I need more cigarettes...

tact filters

I think I understand how I communicate now.

quickie

I'm still awake. I need to take at least a short nap. Almost done with my reading, then I have to start on some writing. Presentations, papers, abstracts, research... I am by no means an academic. If only they had a degree in random knowledge with a credit waiver exam... Class 'till seven tomorrow. I'm skipping my morning class to finish my work. It's sad when you have to do that. This class is not allowed to devour my soul. I won't let it.

Spring break was good. Can't ask for much more than food, beer, sex, video games, and brain-deadness. At least, I can't. Maybe I just haven't experienced the finer things in life. Or maybe I have, and they're just not worth it.

My eyes hurt. My room's a pit for piling junk. I must push on. Chug-a-chug-a-chug, woo woo....

I have been doing a bit of drinking

Not a lot, mind you. It seems I have the alcohol tolerance of an elephant, or something. The last couple of days I've just been craving beer-like beverages. I shall chalk this up to menstruation. The myth is that women crave chocolate. Some do. I don't, and crave beer instead. Bite me.

Part of this might also be due to the crazy fluctuations in my stress level. I discovered on Tuesday that I'm going to survive this week, because my presentation and all isn't going to happen until after spring break. For this I am immensely grateful, because I realized just how impossible it is to write a 12-page midterm, read a 200-page book, and develop a half-hour presentation in one day. I guess I could, you know...if i could stop time. That might be a good superhero power to ask for if, one day, they ever happen to be distributing those.

As it is, I have to do a lot of this over spring break. Despite the fact that I don't have internet access at home, this won't be so bad. Bunnyman has the week off for vacation, and my need to do work might make him have to come over and spend time with my parents as I leech their wireless from them. There's an odd sort of growing animosity between Bunnyman and my mom, mostly because she says really stupid things and doesn't think about the consequences of saying them. Maybe mom's presence can reassure him that she doesn't really hate him. She's just stupid.

I also found out that we're going to be moving sometime in the very imminent future. This has been causing a bit more stress to fall into my growing pile. I come here, and am preoccupied with schoolwork, but at home is a growing possibility of all out war with my neighbors. It has escalated to the point that we're going to start boxing things up this week. By this time next year, I will likely be calling Bridgeport my satellite base of operations. Probably sooner than that, but certainly by next year. I think this'll be better for all of us. I had a dream the other night about getting in a catfight with Tammy (the alpha-neighbor-female). She was in a catfight, anyway, and I was martially dodging her blows and landing my own. I wonder if this is what I'd do in a real fight. At any rate, this can't be healthy, and I do believe it's time to move on. Neighbor landlords who extort you into paying their credit card bills (when they're making more money than you and can actually get credit cards), bitch at you when an overworked Bunnyman falls asleep and misses his invitation to the bar, and routinely leave the Kiddo to her own devices while they go to a basketball game or the carnival or wherever without her, suck. Nuff said. I think they've done enough emotional damage to Kiddo to just warrant us leaving. But, eh, whatever. They suck. I shall fill Kiddo full of hateful thoughts towards them at a later date. No, that's not true. I'll let her come up with her own.

Speaking of Kiddo. I found her bio-mom's home phone number on the internet. Oh, how I love the internet! Her mom gave her calling cards for Christmas, telling her that she can use them to call her. Whenever she wants. So they can talk. Her mom is evil for too many reasons to list here, child abandonment among them, and we thought it rather interesting that she failed to give Kiddo her phone number with these calling cards. So I found it on the internet, and suggested she give her mom a call. Wasn't she surprised....

Oh, what a good other-woman am I. Ha!

In other news, eggcorns make for good linguistic amusement. People reformat language to suit their own understanding.

And LimeWire won't work. Bastard P2P hinderers...

silly internet meme

I'm procrastinating. Shut up.

THREE NAMES YOU GO BY:
1. Meagunn
2. Me-ahh-gone
3. Babywrabbit

THREE SCREEN NAMES YOU HAVE HAD:
1. Luna. I took this name for a summer at Augusta, and a lot of people didn't know better...
2. Phelia. Same as above.
3. Zork. My first screen name when I was eleven or so.

THREE THINGS YOU LIKE ABOUT YOURSELF:
1. Linguistic ability. Yay!
2. The ability to kick Bunnyman's ass at Star Wars: Battlefront.
3. I can cook. Mmm, curry...

THREE THINGS YOU DON'T LIKE ABOUT YOURSELF:
1. My general appearance. Not that I'll do anything about it.
2. Being poor.
3. Being very abnormally social... even including normal sleep patterns, etc. Maybe I'm not from here.

THREE PARTS OF YOUR HERITAGE:
1. Irish Catholic.
2. Russian Jew.
3. British, hurrah. My great great great great grandfather signed the Declaration of Independance. He didn't have good handwriting, either.

THREE THINGS THAT SCARE YOU:
1. Losing my new family.
2. Having to drop out of school/not getting a good job when I get out...
3. Bees. Yup, bees.

THREE OF YOUR EVERYDAY ESSENTIALS:
1. Meagunn must smoke.
2. Meagunn must dick off on the computer.
3. Meagunn must talk to a Bunnyman.

THREE THINGS YOU ARE WEARING RIGHT NOW:
1. Black polyesther pants that I recently stole back from my sister. They are comfy.
2. Purple sweater that I stole from my mom years ago. (She now has no cool clothes. She didn't have much in that department to begin with.)
3. A small quantity of metal. And smelly socks.

THREE OF YOUR FAVORITE BANDS (or artists) AT THE MOMENT:
1. Counting Crows. I heart Adam Duritz, it's true.
2. Eastern Youth. Japanese emo is cool.
3. The Cure. Robert Smith makes me swoon...

THREE OF YOUR FAVORITE SONGS AT PRESENT:
1. Modern English - Melt With You
2. CCC - Close to No One. It's a mix of The Beatles (I forget which song) and The Cure's Close to You. It rocks.
3. downlowtooslow - Pure Freaky. A mix of Placebo's Pure Morning and Missy Elliot's Get Your Freak On. It rocks too.

THREE NEW THINGS YOU WANT TO TRY IN THE NEXT 12 MONTHS:
1. Sleeping a normal eight hours? Yeah, maybe.
2. Going on a road trip with Bunnyman. You must road trip with those you love. It's a rule. I am an old hand at this.
3. I want to go to the new hookah bar downtown. Need to find someone to do with me, though. It's lonely smoking a hookah by yourself.

THREE THINGS YOU WANT IN A RELATIONSHIP (love is a given):
1. A good sense of humor. Being serious all the time can be very tiring.
2. Acceptance and understanding. You don't try to change me, I won't try to change you. This is silly. People get into a relationship, then attempt to try and change the person they're with? Why did you even get into a relationship with them in the first place? Compromise, dammit!
3. Comfortability. I want to be able to fart in front of someone and not feel weird. Sometimes things just need to come out, you know?

TWO TRUTHS AND A LIE
1. I have lived in three houses, two dorm rooms, one apartment, one foreign country, and two cars. I don't reccommend sleeping in the back seat of a Volkswagen Bug unless you're very small and it's very necessary.
2. I used to do some strange things to both the inside and outside of my body. Given the chance, I would do some of them again.
3. I was once abducted by aliens outside of Roswell, New Mexico. Wait, that might not be a lie...

THREE PHYSICAL THINGS ABOUT THE OPPOSITE SEX (or same) THAT APPEAL TO YOU:
1. Skin. That smooth, pale as milk look...
2. Arms. I like skinny, sinewy arms. It's like being wrapped in cables...
3. Boobs. Hey, I really like boobs.

THREE THINGS YOU JUST CAN'T DO:
1. Math. Algebra killed my family, and I told it I never wanted to see it again.
2. Eat tomatoes. Tomato soup, fine. Ketchup, fine. Smooth tomato sauce, fine. Tomato chunks? Get those damn things away from me!!
3. Get things done before the last minute. Deadlines are motivation, didn't you know?

THREE OF YOUR FAVORITE HOBBIES:
1. Playing video games. I will do this for several days straight if allowed.
2. Playing Dungeons and Dragons. This is fun.
3. Discovering the oddities of the human race through the medium of the internet.

THREE THINGS YOU WANT TO DO REALLY BADLY RIGHT NOW:
1. Eat a DP Dough. Mmm, cheese...
2. Forget about all the crap I must do.
3. Go hoooomeee!! Vacation!! Arrgh...

THREE CAREERS YOU'RE CONSIDERING:
1. Linguistic analyst for the FBI.
2. English teacher in Germany or Japan.
3. Pond scum.

THREE PLACES YOU WANT TO GO ON VACATION:
1. Japan.
2. Korea.
3. Some secluded, non-touristy island in the Carribean.

THREE NAMES YOU LIKE FOR YOUR FUTURE KIDS:
1. Maximillian.
2. Nicholas.
3. Zoe.

THREE THINGS YOU WANT TO DO BEFORE YOU DIE:
1. Have a kid. Someday. Yes, I eventually want to breed. But maybe it'll be a good lesbian/gay kid, and the line'll stop there.
2. Live in a little townhouse in the French Quarter in New Orleans.
3. Be a really cool old lady. You know, the kind with tattoos who'll smoke weed and bake apple pie with you and sawp stories about counterculture and weirdness back in the old days. Little kids usually think these old ladies are crazy.

THREE PEOPLE WHO HAVE TO TAKE THIS QUIZ NOW OR DIE PAINFULLY:
1. no one.
2. no one.
3. no one. Take it if you want, but I'm not going to wish death on anyone. Jeeze, That's a little severe, isn't it?