I have a cold. I'm on an antibiotic with side-effects ranging from projectile blood coughing to violent nightmares to hallucinations to a complete loss of the ability to taste anything but metal.
Pretty sweet huh? Heh. Unfortunately after a week, I have experienced none of the aforementioned side effects, except the nightmares. But who knows whether that's me or the meds?
The first night felt like meds. Nothing but a serial killer hacking bodies. The entire dream done in black, white, corpse green, and red. The killer tied butcher knives to huge black parrot raven birds and trained them to kill people because he thought that would be funny. It's sort of funny after waking to think that giant killer parrots with friggin knives attached to their legs would be horrifying. Ah, but that's the way nightmares work.
The next night I dreamt about ... the rapture? Zombies? People coming back from the dead.. the first one was Seth Green. Too much [adult swim] perhaps. It started out sort of silly but then people started coming back incomplete. Corpses without heads or one missing his feet and hands and eyes... just writhing. One was up in my closet just hissing at me.
And then I dreamt of things that are worse than death. I haven't been able to do anything today, the nightmare still rolling around in my brain mixing with Stephenie Meyer's The Host, which is enough melodrama by itself. Luckily my family went to see a movie today without me so I can stare at the wall in peace. Or blog. Heh.
Jerry called me a supervillain, with admiration or disgust - it doesn't matter, I feel both about myself regardless. 'Ms. Hyde' might be more appropriate.
"Fix me now, I wish you would. Bring me back to life. Fix me now. Somebody should... " Do you remember that song? I love Garbage. "Things don't have to be this way. Catch me on a better day."
Oh and it was just Christmas wasn't it. A newer MP3 player with a video screen. A book. Some cash. The fat man can't bring me what I really want, sadly. Just another December to myself to chew slowly with cold leftovers. And one more beating heart remembers me as a glimmer of hope to stave off their own cold, but finding nothing but ashes in their hands the next morning.
2009, I'm counting on you here.
Friday, December 26, 2008
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Power Nap
I think I just had the first 'power nap' of my entire life. I came home from work early and was inexplicably tired, mentally exhausted at the thought of finishing a 4 page essay final exam by tomorrow that I started on today. I drank a cup of coffee and passed out for half an hour. I woke up (from a dream about a leering postman) and I was suddenly a genius, these brilliantly composed essays just poured out of me. I finished 2/3 of the exam in a few hours. And I slowly returned to normal distractable me.
It felt like ritalin for a moment. But now I'm tired again and procrastinatory, which is not a real word. It's my birthday tomorrow, and like every year for the past 6 years it will be spent completing finals. Luckily after this week, I am free for the next three weeks. Free to sleep 14 hours a night and eat oreos at 2pm while watching TV. The good life. I chopped all my hair off again - I was inspired by the chick in Transporter 3. It's her cut but shorter in the back, boy short. A shout out to David Martin for being a badass hairstylist, doing in 1.5 hours what took 3 hours the last time.
I'm hungry. Someone outside is cooking pizza or something.
It felt like ritalin for a moment. But now I'm tired again and procrastinatory, which is not a real word. It's my birthday tomorrow, and like every year for the past 6 years it will be spent completing finals. Luckily after this week, I am free for the next three weeks. Free to sleep 14 hours a night and eat oreos at 2pm while watching TV. The good life. I chopped all my hair off again - I was inspired by the chick in Transporter 3. It's her cut but shorter in the back, boy short. A shout out to David Martin for being a badass hairstylist, doing in 1.5 hours what took 3 hours the last time.
I'm hungry. Someone outside is cooking pizza or something.
Thursday, December 4, 2008
I Am My Own December
I went home the weekend before Thanksgiving, to celebrate Thanksgiving, a wedding, or the premier of Twilight (depending on who you ask).
I had interesting airplane conversations. The first leg, I was hopelessly trying to ignore an old woman sitting next to me. It's the first time I've used my occupation to intentionally be a douchebag. Then I thought about it. It's hard to talk to strangers about what I do without sounding like a douchebag. That's why I try not to.
"You're about the same age as my granddaughter. What do you do in college?"
"Microarray analysis to analyze small RNA differences in tissues as they develop with the ultimate goal of guiding the differentiation of stem cells along a specific developmental lineage.... I sound like a douche bag don't I?"
"I teach art in an elementary school, what do you do?"
"I um grow heart cells in a lab from stem cells and also from induced pluripotent cells, which are going to replace the need for stem cells and really clear up some of the red tape keeping us from killing babies......ooh. Fuck."
This old lady on the airplane though. I was on my laptop fighting with a Perl script, probably furrowing my eyebrows and mumbling a lot. She kept trying to strike up conversation like 15 times. I gave her clipped answers and was being openly rude to shut her up. But then I finally looked her in the face and I swear she looked just like my estranged... b i o l o g i c a l grandmother (that's for you Cam). It distracted me. I weighed the likelihood that she would think I was insane if I asked her very seriously, after an hour and a half of the trip, "Are you my grandmother?" I never asked her. But I decided she probably wasn't.
The next leg of the flight I talked to this guy. My immediate thought was "30 year old man, overly friendly, 280 pounds, chewing gum, baseball cap, proceed with caution". He started talking about his wife and kids, so I quickly recategorized him as non-hostile. He talked about his work, which was pretty interesting - designing wind turret fields for wind energy companies. Then he cleanly segued into a conversation about how people are electrochemical transmitters and receivers of brain waves. And static electricity improves the conductivity. He had written several hundred pages on the subject hoping to publish it. I asked him about the Schumann resonance and he said it was all rubbish..... huh.
He was pretty confident that the world was not going to end in 2012 too.
That's good to hear.
I had interesting airplane conversations. The first leg, I was hopelessly trying to ignore an old woman sitting next to me. It's the first time I've used my occupation to intentionally be a douchebag. Then I thought about it. It's hard to talk to strangers about what I do without sounding like a douchebag. That's why I try not to.
"You're about the same age as my granddaughter. What do you do in college?"
"Microarray analysis to analyze small RNA differences in tissues as they develop with the ultimate goal of guiding the differentiation of stem cells along a specific developmental lineage.... I sound like a douche bag don't I?"
"I teach art in an elementary school, what do you do?"
"I um grow heart cells in a lab from stem cells and also from induced pluripotent cells, which are going to replace the need for stem cells and really clear up some of the red tape keeping us from killing babies......ooh. Fuck."
This old lady on the airplane though. I was on my laptop fighting with a Perl script, probably furrowing my eyebrows and mumbling a lot. She kept trying to strike up conversation like 15 times. I gave her clipped answers and was being openly rude to shut her up. But then I finally looked her in the face and I swear she looked just like my estranged... b i o l o g i c a l grandmother (that's for you Cam). It distracted me. I weighed the likelihood that she would think I was insane if I asked her very seriously, after an hour and a half of the trip, "Are you my grandmother?" I never asked her. But I decided she probably wasn't.
The next leg of the flight I talked to this guy. My immediate thought was "30 year old man, overly friendly, 280 pounds, chewing gum, baseball cap, proceed with caution". He started talking about his wife and kids, so I quickly recategorized him as non-hostile. He talked about his work, which was pretty interesting - designing wind turret fields for wind energy companies. Then he cleanly segued into a conversation about how people are electrochemical transmitters and receivers of brain waves. And static electricity improves the conductivity. He had written several hundred pages on the subject hoping to publish it. I asked him about the Schumann resonance and he said it was all rubbish..... huh.
He was pretty confident that the world was not going to end in 2012 too.
That's good to hear.
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Cleaning out the closet
I bought a bookshelf so I can get some of the books and junk out of my closet. I found a jewellery box in the closet between a stack of old bills. It struck me as vaguely familiar. I shook it and there was something inside. I opened it and there was a brand new SD card! Heheheheh. 4GB! Sweet.
OH SNAP. I just saw the teaser for Drinky Crow Show!!! Episodes with an S!
OH SNAP. I just saw the teaser for Drinky Crow Show!!! Episodes with an S!
Sunday, November 16, 2008
Bubblegum Fantasy Shit
My unshakable fortitude of positivity and well-being lurched backwards this morning. And bent forward again, coughing up blood. Spatter on the concrete. Carved a smile on my face and said, 'no, it was a wonderful dream.'
It was a pathetic sort of dream in a marshmallowy simple romantic way. It's the sort of dream I have to laugh uncomfortably as I'm telling you to show how much it doesn't mean to me.
I had a dream that I went to the grocery store with Vlad to pick out a cantaloupe (and two peaches, which has less personal meaning, but perhaps more Freudian meaning) - then we went home and ate it together, sitting on a bed. Heh.
I can't be anything but ridiculous, no matter how hard I try. Dreaming of a world where I'm not allergic to cantaloupe and where Vlad likes me.
The only thing keeping me sane is awesome artwork by Alexander and his friends at the Red Bear Dead forums/website. I heart his aesthetic.
Also, SPACED is the best TV show ever. Simon Pegg is a genius.
It was a pathetic sort of dream in a marshmallowy simple romantic way. It's the sort of dream I have to laugh uncomfortably as I'm telling you to show how much it doesn't mean to me.
I had a dream that I went to the grocery store with Vlad to pick out a cantaloupe (and two peaches, which has less personal meaning, but perhaps more Freudian meaning) - then we went home and ate it together, sitting on a bed. Heh.
I can't be anything but ridiculous, no matter how hard I try. Dreaming of a world where I'm not allergic to cantaloupe and where Vlad likes me.
The only thing keeping me sane is awesome artwork by Alexander and his friends at the Red Bear Dead forums/website. I heart his aesthetic.
Also, SPACED is the best TV show ever. Simon Pegg is a genius.
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Wonderful World of Linux
So I've officially switched over to linux. I've never run anything but Windows, all the way back since 3.0.... oh, nostalgia.
The one downside to linux.. I f-ing HATE firefox. HATE it. I can't wait until Google Chrome comes out with the linux-compatible release. Those people need to get off their smarmy bean bag office chairs and make it already!
My life is fantastically boring sometimes.
The one downside to linux.. I f-ing HATE firefox. HATE it. I can't wait until Google Chrome comes out with the linux-compatible release. Those people need to get off their smarmy bean bag office chairs and make it already!
My life is fantastically boring sometimes.
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Diamonds and Perl
So I'm programming Perl for fun... you know what that means. Good Stephanie has won.
I'm changing my major to Bioinformatics. Oh noes my school doesn't have a Bioinformatics program. What ever shall I do~? Blow this popsicle stand.
To be continued...
I bought a book the other day from a store that went out of business. It's an etiquette book written in the 50s. Oh ho ho ho it's sooo hilarious.
For instance:
"It is only human for a man to want his secretary to be neat, attractive, and, if possible, pretty. He has to look at her all day long. But the more attractive she is, the more, for his own and her protection, he must treat her with careful, polite objectivity."
Hehehe. This book is 738 pages long. I picked it up in the store thinking it was either a dictionary or a bible.
"If the family breakfasts weekend mornings in dressing gowns, pajamas, nightgowns, you are free to do so too. But don't take the informality so much to heart that you fail to comb your hair, wash your face and teeth, and generally make yourself attractive. No woman should appear too negligee or with her hair unarranged and her face unmade-up, if she's in the habit of using make-up - and most of us are."
And it goes on and on. Solid gold.
I'm changing my major to Bioinformatics. Oh noes my school doesn't have a Bioinformatics program. What ever shall I do~? Blow this popsicle stand.
To be continued...
I bought a book the other day from a store that went out of business. It's an etiquette book written in the 50s. Oh ho ho ho it's sooo hilarious.
For instance:
"It is only human for a man to want his secretary to be neat, attractive, and, if possible, pretty. He has to look at her all day long. But the more attractive she is, the more, for his own and her protection, he must treat her with careful, polite objectivity."
Hehehe. This book is 738 pages long. I picked it up in the store thinking it was either a dictionary or a bible.
"If the family breakfasts weekend mornings in dressing gowns, pajamas, nightgowns, you are free to do so too. But don't take the informality so much to heart that you fail to comb your hair, wash your face and teeth, and generally make yourself attractive. No woman should appear too negligee or with her hair unarranged and her face unmade-up, if she's in the habit of using make-up - and most of us are."
And it goes on and on. Solid gold.
Saturday, November 8, 2008
Eyes Wide Shut
Alice: Maybe we should be grateful that we survived all our adventures whether they were real or only a dream.
Bill: Are you sure about that?
Alice: Um. Well. Only as sure as I am that the reality of one night alone out of a whole lifetime can never be the whole truth.
Bill: And no dream is ever just a dream.
Alice: Mmm. The important thing is, we're awake now and hopefully for a long time to come.
Bill: Forever.
Alice: Forever?
Bill: Forever.
Alice: Let's not use that word. It frightens me. But I do love you.
..I love when movies complement my thoughts so superbly. Oh, Stanley Kubrick.
Bill: Are you sure about that?
Alice: Um. Well. Only as sure as I am that the reality of one night alone out of a whole lifetime can never be the whole truth.
Bill: And no dream is ever just a dream.
Alice: Mmm. The important thing is, we're awake now and hopefully for a long time to come.
Bill: Forever.
Alice: Forever?
Bill: Forever.
Alice: Let's not use that word. It frightens me. But I do love you.
..I love when movies complement my thoughts so superbly. Oh, Stanley Kubrick.
Friday, November 7, 2008
Delerium Take Me
I figured it out. I know what this feeling is. I'm sane again... or else quite insane again. I'm not the best judge of character.
Anyways...
Things are going to change around here. Oh man, I feel like I just woke up.
I had this dream last night and it made so much sense. I'm worried that Ali's cult leader may have subconsciously brain-washed me. Heheh. But no, I'm fairly sure this is me. I feel more me than I have in years.
I had this dream where I spoke to someone who told me simple things I've always known.... but it's different when you hear these things from someone else, even if it's your own voice inside a dream. I wish I could remember it now more clearly. The environment was very bohemian and victorian at the same time. I can only remember tiny details, but it created a large impression. It was an insane dream.
It made me see how strongly I want to rearrange reality. I think that I haven't been very happy lately. I'm going to fix that. And not just the symptoms.
Anyways...
Things are going to change around here. Oh man, I feel like I just woke up.
I had this dream last night and it made so much sense. I'm worried that Ali's cult leader may have subconsciously brain-washed me. Heheh. But no, I'm fairly sure this is me. I feel more me than I have in years.
I had this dream where I spoke to someone who told me simple things I've always known.... but it's different when you hear these things from someone else, even if it's your own voice inside a dream. I wish I could remember it now more clearly. The environment was very bohemian and victorian at the same time. I can only remember tiny details, but it created a large impression. It was an insane dream.
It made me see how strongly I want to rearrange reality. I think that I haven't been very happy lately. I'm going to fix that. And not just the symptoms.
Thursday, November 6, 2008
How long until this isn't true either?
Ever since that weird yoga naked-day in the mountains, I've been pretty f-ing mellow. Can't decide if I'm happy, sad, or just too mellow to be either one. I'm really carefully watching myself. I don't know why I'm so suspicious. I can't trust that this isn't a calm before a storm.
I think things are going ..well. I feel like I'm waiting for something devastating or possibly magnificent to happen. I poked around on borrowed passwords the other day, putting in a little espionage time. No harm, no foul there. Nothing upsetting. Nothing new. I still miss him, in a more and more abstract way every passing month.
I keep pleading with Delirium to take me. And maybe I have snapped. I feel like driving to LA this weekend...... but I probably won't. Because I'm playing hard to get. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
*sigh*
...
/red wine
I think things are going ..well. I feel like I'm waiting for something devastating or possibly magnificent to happen. I poked around on borrowed passwords the other day, putting in a little espionage time. No harm, no foul there. Nothing upsetting. Nothing new. I still miss him, in a more and more abstract way every passing month.
I keep pleading with Delirium to take me. And maybe I have snapped. I feel like driving to LA this weekend...... but I probably won't. Because I'm playing hard to get. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
*sigh*
...
/red wine
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
Monday, November 3, 2008
Halloween 08
It's been a strange weekend. I finished my Harley Quinn costume (barely) in time for Halloween. It turned out pretty sweet even though I didn't finish the head piece and the diamonds were hot-glued on.
I won first place at a costume contest. Won a free pint glass with infinite refills between 12-1AM, which was sort of a bad prize honestly. It came down to me being able to bring as much liquor to the table in one hour as we could drink. Two friends were downing beer like water, trying to squeeze in as much free victory booze as possible. One of those ended up crashing her bike. She didn't even make it out of the parking lot. Poor kid.
Next day bike-crash-friend and I went to her boyfriend's place in Berkley - which turned out to be pretty wild. The party ended in a broken chair, a broken thermostat, and Sharpie on Dimitri's face. One guy was dressed up like Dave Chapelle's crack-head character with a broken car stereo and white powder on his lips. Funny as hell guy. Pretty too. Left the party early - c'est la vive. I was one of the only people who got his costume, surprisingly. He didn't get mine. Also talked to this guy from the Midwest with crazy messed up teeth, which I stared at intently while he chatted me up. He probably thought I was an asshole. I've been too awkward in public lately - I think I've lost too much weight and too much sleep and my brain doesn't work any more.
Went to sleep that night around 4. Woke up at 11 to meet with Ali and drive back home. Little did Jerry and I know that we would be taking an all-day detour to a nudist hippy commune up north of Napa. Ali and her boyfriend might have joined a cult. Not too sure about that. I played along as best I could, trying my damdest to not mind the nudity part. People say that nudity makes them feel free and childlike.... I do not get that.
Naked in public is never something I will be into. I'm not an exhibitionist on any level. It's funny too because I'm totally comfortable with my body, it isn't that. I simply have no desire to see random people naked and I have no desire for random people to see me naked. I really don't feel like clothing is an imposition of societal pressures. People say that public nudity is not sexual... but I think it's an encroachment upon intimacy if nothing else. Maybe that just shows my disconnect with humanity. I suppose people who feel comfortable with public nudity feel an intimate connection with people in a general sense.
Anyways this place has mineral pools of various temperatures where people hang out. We also did yoga there for what seemed like 3 hours - and clothing was required there, thank God. I really do not want to see naked middle-aged people doing positions like downward dog or happy baby. Haha. The yoga was great. Ali's friend showed us acrobatic tricks afterwards. She let me do one position with her where she laid on her back with her feet in the air and I did a back-bend into her feet. This resulted in her supporting my body by the small of my back with her feet and nothing else. It gave the feeling of suspension, with hands and feet hanging in the air, looking up at the sky. It was quite possibly the greatest sensation I've had in a long time. This was the high part of the trip.
The place was truly beautiful, nestled in the wooded hills and mountains of the Calistoga region. It was raining, which made the place even more strange and ethereal. Overall, it was total culture shock compared with the night before. I feel pretty mellow now, all that yoga really helped my head.
I won first place at a costume contest. Won a free pint glass with infinite refills between 12-1AM, which was sort of a bad prize honestly. It came down to me being able to bring as much liquor to the table in one hour as we could drink. Two friends were downing beer like water, trying to squeeze in as much free victory booze as possible. One of those ended up crashing her bike. She didn't even make it out of the parking lot. Poor kid.
Next day bike-crash-friend and I went to her boyfriend's place in Berkley - which turned out to be pretty wild. The party ended in a broken chair, a broken thermostat, and Sharpie on Dimitri's face. One guy was dressed up like Dave Chapelle's crack-head character with a broken car stereo and white powder on his lips. Funny as hell guy. Pretty too. Left the party early - c'est la vive. I was one of the only people who got his costume, surprisingly. He didn't get mine. Also talked to this guy from the Midwest with crazy messed up teeth, which I stared at intently while he chatted me up. He probably thought I was an asshole. I've been too awkward in public lately - I think I've lost too much weight and too much sleep and my brain doesn't work any more.
Went to sleep that night around 4. Woke up at 11 to meet with Ali and drive back home. Little did Jerry and I know that we would be taking an all-day detour to a nudist hippy commune up north of Napa. Ali and her boyfriend might have joined a cult. Not too sure about that. I played along as best I could, trying my damdest to not mind the nudity part. People say that nudity makes them feel free and childlike.... I do not get that.
Naked in public is never something I will be into. I'm not an exhibitionist on any level. It's funny too because I'm totally comfortable with my body, it isn't that. I simply have no desire to see random people naked and I have no desire for random people to see me naked. I really don't feel like clothing is an imposition of societal pressures. People say that public nudity is not sexual... but I think it's an encroachment upon intimacy if nothing else. Maybe that just shows my disconnect with humanity. I suppose people who feel comfortable with public nudity feel an intimate connection with people in a general sense.
Anyways this place has mineral pools of various temperatures where people hang out. We also did yoga there for what seemed like 3 hours - and clothing was required there, thank God. I really do not want to see naked middle-aged people doing positions like downward dog or happy baby. Haha. The yoga was great. Ali's friend showed us acrobatic tricks afterwards. She let me do one position with her where she laid on her back with her feet in the air and I did a back-bend into her feet. This resulted in her supporting my body by the small of my back with her feet and nothing else. It gave the feeling of suspension, with hands and feet hanging in the air, looking up at the sky. It was quite possibly the greatest sensation I've had in a long time. This was the high part of the trip.
The place was truly beautiful, nestled in the wooded hills and mountains of the Calistoga region. It was raining, which made the place even more strange and ethereal. Overall, it was total culture shock compared with the night before. I feel pretty mellow now, all that yoga really helped my head.
Sunday, October 26, 2008
Return to Sender
I'm starting to feel more and more like damaged goods. It made me uncomfortable to read a romantic scene in a book today. That's never happened before. I feel like parts of my brain are rusting over and I don't know what to do about it.
People stare at me blankly when I try to communicate my problem. Nonchalantly they tell me I could waltz into any bar and pluck a man like fruit from low branches and devour him. Which sounds sort of sexy when I rework their words here... but regardless. This is such a silly idea. People here didn't see me in high school or middle school.... it takes an indescribable amount of will to look at people's eyes. I'm so damned afraid of people, that I have to develop a multiple personality disorder to maintain an illusion of social normalcy.
My two halves are straining against one another. One needs to be coaxed from the rafters after 3 vodka shots while the other practices the Perl programming assignments from class ..for fun.
I think I'm having an identity crisis. It's becoming difficult managing both personalities - one wakes up early for class and the other stays out til 2AM. It's wearing me out. I'm tired. God, I could use some company from that perfect dark-haired boy that's lived in my dreams for the past 3 years or so.... haven't seen him in a while.
Maybe I should try to arrange that....
zzz
People stare at me blankly when I try to communicate my problem. Nonchalantly they tell me I could waltz into any bar and pluck a man like fruit from low branches and devour him. Which sounds sort of sexy when I rework their words here... but regardless. This is such a silly idea. People here didn't see me in high school or middle school.... it takes an indescribable amount of will to look at people's eyes. I'm so damned afraid of people, that I have to develop a multiple personality disorder to maintain an illusion of social normalcy.
My two halves are straining against one another. One needs to be coaxed from the rafters after 3 vodka shots while the other practices the Perl programming assignments from class ..for fun.
I think I'm having an identity crisis. It's becoming difficult managing both personalities - one wakes up early for class and the other stays out til 2AM. It's wearing me out. I'm tired. God, I could use some company from that perfect dark-haired boy that's lived in my dreams for the past 3 years or so.... haven't seen him in a while.
Maybe I should try to arrange that....
zzz
Saturday, October 25, 2008
Devil May Not Care
I've been watching an anime series called Soul Eater. HIGHLY recommended.. it's like a love child of Naruto (action), Bleach (theme), and FLCL (cheekiness).
There's one character with OCD. He obsesses on bilateral symmetry and perfect aesthetic. It inspired me to indulge a little and I shaped and buffed 2 toenails for about an hour.... at which point I gave up and painted them all. Silver.
The prettiest boy that I went to high school with started talking to me randomly on facebook. Shortly after breaking up with his girlfriend. I don't know what to think about that. In high school he was a freshman when I was a senior plus I had my pockets full loving my very favorite x-boyfriend.. so little Andrew was filed away under 'untouchable' and cross-referenced to 'unthinkable'.
In a (highly Freudian) attempt to make a film in high school he agreed to play the part of a character written for Vlad. I followed him around with a video camera for a few days. His friends thought I was weird. *crooked smile*
I often wonder if my film project had anything at all to do with his choice to pursue acting as a career... or if that was always his dream. I've never had the guts to ask. Cuz if it had nothing at all to do with me I'd feel pretty stupid for asking.
There's one character with OCD. He obsesses on bilateral symmetry and perfect aesthetic. It inspired me to indulge a little and I shaped and buffed 2 toenails for about an hour.... at which point I gave up and painted them all. Silver.
The prettiest boy that I went to high school with started talking to me randomly on facebook. Shortly after breaking up with his girlfriend. I don't know what to think about that. In high school he was a freshman when I was a senior plus I had my pockets full loving my very favorite x-boyfriend.. so little Andrew was filed away under 'untouchable' and cross-referenced to 'unthinkable'.
In a (highly Freudian) attempt to make a film in high school he agreed to play the part of a character written for Vlad. I followed him around with a video camera for a few days. His friends thought I was weird. *crooked smile*
I often wonder if my film project had anything at all to do with his choice to pursue acting as a career... or if that was always his dream. I've never had the guts to ask. Cuz if it had nothing at all to do with me I'd feel pretty stupid for asking.
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Of dragons and vampires...
I finished the book I was reading. New Moon by Stephenie Meyer (I don't know why she insists on misspelling her name).
I don't know if everyone does this but when I finish a book I like to stare at the wall and process it in its entirety. In that moment, upon finishing New Moon, I thought to myself. "Huh, the only reasonable explanation is that Vlad is a vampire." The resemblance is just uncanny. I wonder if she could be a fan of my blog. HA!
Most of all it makes me feel a twinge of regret, if I could feel such a thing. Bella got it right in New Moon where I failed in real life. If I could only have verbalized the source of my pain accurately.. maybe he would understand.
It brings back a conversation with my 'dragon' coworker so many years ago, one night after the closing shift at Hollywood Video. "I don't think Vlad will be in your life forever. I don't see that as his role." "What is his role then, asshole?" "I think.... he's going to stop you from doing something you want, something not good for you, becoming a vampire. When he leaves it will be for your own good."
I looked at David then with a half smirk, not surprised by his outrageous claims - which I expected and was secretly fond of. I think I was the only person at the video store who could tolerate him. I really liked our nocturnal conversations about the occult and insane things we both loved. And I could never see an end to Vlad and my relationship so the comment never offended me.
David was right about one thing... I do want an eternity of my own... if only that were the reason he was ignoring me. Heh.
I don't intend for this post to go in a melodramatic direction... I only thought how funny it was that my immediate reaction was 'vlad must be a vampire'. Heh. The impaler.... That used to be funny.
I don't know if everyone does this but when I finish a book I like to stare at the wall and process it in its entirety. In that moment, upon finishing New Moon, I thought to myself. "Huh, the only reasonable explanation is that Vlad is a vampire." The resemblance is just uncanny. I wonder if she could be a fan of my blog. HA!
Most of all it makes me feel a twinge of regret, if I could feel such a thing. Bella got it right in New Moon where I failed in real life. If I could only have verbalized the source of my pain accurately.. maybe he would understand.
It brings back a conversation with my 'dragon' coworker so many years ago, one night after the closing shift at Hollywood Video. "I don't think Vlad will be in your life forever. I don't see that as his role." "What is his role then, asshole?" "I think.... he's going to stop you from doing something you want, something not good for you, becoming a vampire. When he leaves it will be for your own good."
I looked at David then with a half smirk, not surprised by his outrageous claims - which I expected and was secretly fond of. I think I was the only person at the video store who could tolerate him. I really liked our nocturnal conversations about the occult and insane things we both loved. And I could never see an end to Vlad and my relationship so the comment never offended me.
David was right about one thing... I do want an eternity of my own... if only that were the reason he was ignoring me. Heh.
I don't intend for this post to go in a melodramatic direction... I only thought how funny it was that my immediate reaction was 'vlad must be a vampire'. Heh. The impaler.... That used to be funny.
Saturday, October 18, 2008
I saw you standing alone.
I went to a drag show today (queens not cars) and I was an emo boy for the occasion. Taped up and everything. Not that it's too hard to pull off flat chested, she said with joy in self-mockery.
I started reading New Moon, the sequel to Twilight. Vampire novels written by someone named Stephanie. It's uncanny how much it resembles my life (minus the vampires, sadly). Especially the second book. I have dry tears on my face from all the self-pity the book brings to the surface.
I feel like I know what's going to happen next, not because the books are predictable, but because they've already happened.
"I held myself tightly together. As if he'd never existed, I thought in despair. What a stupid and impossible promise to make! He could steal my pictures and reclaim his gifts but that didn't put things back the way they'd been before I'd met him. The physical evidence was the most insignificant part of the equation. I was changed, my insides altered almost past the point of recognition. Even my outsides looked different - my face sallow, white except for the purple circles the nightmares had left under my eyes..."
October. The months fall like leaves against a painted backdrop. Everything is fake now. And I can only sit and pretend to find the falling leaves beautiful. But it sends a chill down me, into my soul. That this could last for eternity....
Year by year. Like the last 4. Each one of those were broken up by a summer. Those rare sunny days spent in LA or frantically in front of a computer monitor, struggling to resist the manic urge to dance. Sometimes not resisting the urge to dance in a grocery store or somewhere equally public and embarrassing. This was the first year without a summer. A whole year dead.
As I read New Moon, a voice inside me screams out "Come back!" I just read 140 pages more than I intended hoping Edward would return to Bella, so that I could sleep. These books have made the Vlad nightmares return. Always out of reach. Searching dreams. Dreams without hope. There's 2 more books in the series though, so I know that he'll return eventually. Fairy tale endings and whatnot....
I started reading New Moon, the sequel to Twilight. Vampire novels written by someone named Stephanie. It's uncanny how much it resembles my life (minus the vampires, sadly). Especially the second book. I have dry tears on my face from all the self-pity the book brings to the surface.
I feel like I know what's going to happen next, not because the books are predictable, but because they've already happened.
"I held myself tightly together. As if he'd never existed, I thought in despair. What a stupid and impossible promise to make! He could steal my pictures and reclaim his gifts but that didn't put things back the way they'd been before I'd met him. The physical evidence was the most insignificant part of the equation. I was changed, my insides altered almost past the point of recognition. Even my outsides looked different - my face sallow, white except for the purple circles the nightmares had left under my eyes..."
October. The months fall like leaves against a painted backdrop. Everything is fake now. And I can only sit and pretend to find the falling leaves beautiful. But it sends a chill down me, into my soul. That this could last for eternity....
Year by year. Like the last 4. Each one of those were broken up by a summer. Those rare sunny days spent in LA or frantically in front of a computer monitor, struggling to resist the manic urge to dance. Sometimes not resisting the urge to dance in a grocery store or somewhere equally public and embarrassing. This was the first year without a summer. A whole year dead.
As I read New Moon, a voice inside me screams out "Come back!" I just read 140 pages more than I intended hoping Edward would return to Bella, so that I could sleep. These books have made the Vlad nightmares return. Always out of reach. Searching dreams. Dreams without hope. There's 2 more books in the series though, so I know that he'll return eventually. Fairy tale endings and whatnot....
Sunday, October 5, 2008
October Already?
I've started making Halloween costumes for Jerry and myself. He still has that new roommate smell. I can't believe it's October again already. Jerry's going to be some character Ike from a video game and also in the new Smash Brothers game which I haven't played yet. I'm going to be Harley Quinn from the animated Batman series.... for many reasons.
1. I love Batman villains. I would rather be catwoman, but my spider senses tell me that Christopher Nolan is going to put her in the next movie (please please please) and I will do that costume next year.
2. It has come to my attention that I do Harley's voice well.
3. With Dark Knight coming out this summer, there will undoubtedly be a ton of Jokers. And I look forward to going up to random strangers and saying things like "There you are Mistah J. I was so worried about you puddin'. Why haven't you called?" And then scamper off with arms flailing. Aaaah yes, I can see it all now.
Gotta find joy in the little things. Coz there's nothing else left to stave off the cold. It's wearing thin, yes. Lot's of parties recently. Ended up in Jeff's bed last week, after months of inactivity on that front. Better judgment or fear made me get up and leave. He pushed me down on the couch playfully in a desperate attempt to stop me from leaving. It almost worked. I don't understand him. I don't understand men. Jeff won't sleep with me, he just tries to get me in bed, then psyches himself out on moral grounds because he has a girlfriend he doesn't like but won't break up with. I'm so bored with that.
All work and all play make Steph a tired girl. Too tired to care about boyfriends or serial killers or returning phone calls or facebook profiles or drug addict family members.
I want to be a super villain. Or morally neutral like Aeon Flux. Oh.. or maybe I already am and Jeff is Trevor Goodchild. That's why we will never be together... hehe... that does make me feel better about the situation strangely......
1. I love Batman villains. I would rather be catwoman, but my spider senses tell me that Christopher Nolan is going to put her in the next movie (please please please) and I will do that costume next year.
2. It has come to my attention that I do Harley's voice well.
3. With Dark Knight coming out this summer, there will undoubtedly be a ton of Jokers. And I look forward to going up to random strangers and saying things like "There you are Mistah J. I was so worried about you puddin'. Why haven't you called?" And then scamper off with arms flailing. Aaaah yes, I can see it all now.
Gotta find joy in the little things. Coz there's nothing else left to stave off the cold. It's wearing thin, yes. Lot's of parties recently. Ended up in Jeff's bed last week, after months of inactivity on that front. Better judgment or fear made me get up and leave. He pushed me down on the couch playfully in a desperate attempt to stop me from leaving. It almost worked. I don't understand him. I don't understand men. Jeff won't sleep with me, he just tries to get me in bed, then psyches himself out on moral grounds because he has a girlfriend he doesn't like but won't break up with. I'm so bored with that.
All work and all play make Steph a tired girl. Too tired to care about boyfriends or serial killers or returning phone calls or facebook profiles or drug addict family members.
I want to be a super villain. Or morally neutral like Aeon Flux. Oh.. or maybe I already am and Jeff is Trevor Goodchild. That's why we will never be together... hehe... that does make me feel better about the situation strangely......
Saturday, September 20, 2008
Four More Days
Only 4 more days to vote! Rock my vote bitchiz.
So I went to Texas, just got back. Jerry lives with me temporarily, which is nice. We will do such fun mischievous things.
Google Chrome, their spiffed out browser, is awesome. It took me a long time to become aware of its existence. Because of the google toolbar, I very rarely go to their homepage - where their ad for Chrome was located. This browser kicks ass though. Seriously. One thing I like is the auto-spell check function for all fill boxes. Hilariously, it does not recognize the word 'google'.
I'm a bit jet lagged and over-caffeinated so I don't know what to do with myself. Jerry's asleep. Hmmm we made a single-serving friend on the airplane. I don't normally talk to people on airplanes. Well, actually I never talk to people on airplanes, and I realize I'm missing the unique opportunity to meet interesting people in a controlled environment and make up fantastic stories. If you've never found yourself compulsively lying to strangers, I highly recommend it.
Ok I'm tired of blogging. Good night.
So I went to Texas, just got back. Jerry lives with me temporarily, which is nice. We will do such fun mischievous things.
Google Chrome, their spiffed out browser, is awesome. It took me a long time to become aware of its existence. Because of the google toolbar, I very rarely go to their homepage - where their ad for Chrome was located. This browser kicks ass though. Seriously. One thing I like is the auto-spell check function for all fill boxes. Hilariously, it does not recognize the word 'google'.
I'm a bit jet lagged and over-caffeinated so I don't know what to do with myself. Jerry's asleep. Hmmm we made a single-serving friend on the airplane. I don't normally talk to people on airplanes. Well, actually I never talk to people on airplanes, and I realize I'm missing the unique opportunity to meet interesting people in a controlled environment and make up fantastic stories. If you've never found yourself compulsively lying to strangers, I highly recommend it.
Ok I'm tired of blogging. Good night.
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Nude No More
I am so full of maniacal laughter. I never finish anything ever. ANYTHING.
But I did it. I submitted a design to Threadless. I can't believe I actually did it...
Vote for me!!!!!!
But I did it. I submitted a design to Threadless. I can't believe I actually did it...
Vote for me!!!!!!
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
Almost Contented
I've never found myself out of pursuit. I've constantly been in a state of pursuit since I was in preschool where I met a little boy named Gordon who I replaced the name of God with in the pledge of allegiance to our flag of the united states, one nation, under 'Gord'. Hehe unintentionally, of course - I wasn't that clever or romantic at 4 and a half. Before I even knew what to do with a boy I knew I wanted companionship from one of these strange humorous creatures. Kindergarten was Blake. First grade was Marshall. Then Brandon and David and Clayton. Changed schools and met Austin. The internet gave me Vlad. Tyler, so briefly. Anthony. Zack. Jeff.
Now I'm at a point in my life that I'm not romantically attracted to anyone. At least, when that feeling comes, I violently scold myself. There are so many reasons why I am not attracted to Jeff. There is not enough space in this blog to describe my faults with him - the greatest being his pathetic idea of relationships including his current one. And Vlad, my feelings will never change, but I have to bury all of that deep, deep deep down. Approaching the one year anniversary of silence. I try to be mad about it or hurt, but it's just so strange that curiosity outweighs any other emotion. Why would anyone stop talking to me without reason for one year and block any possible communication?
You treat me like a disease.
Maybe I am.
And I don't stop til you're dead. It's just.. I thought things were getting better.
I went to a wedding this weekend and it was ridiculously fun. The ceremony was in a backyard and lasted maybe 12 minutes. The reception was 3 days of partying in Reno. A lot of dancing. A lot of gambling. I learned how to play Roulette - and I really like it. I always thought a Vegas or Reno wedding sounded really tacky, but I am converted. That was the best wedding I've ever been to.
I almost got choked up during minute 8 or 9 of the wedding but I realized I was feeling sorry for myself. It made me feel like a dick, so I took a long drink and choked that down. Damn those two people love eachother. I want that. It reminded me of a pure love. It made my jokes about wedding crashing and trying to sleep with the groomsman with blonde hair seem less funny.
I think the funniest thing anyone has said to me recently was "Hello the pretiest girl in the whole world. Will you be around for christmas? I will let you touch my butt, but that's all. I don't want to have a relationship with you."
Hehe... my drunk friend who apologized the next day "I'm sorry I called you beautiful, I was drunk" which would be an offensive thing for anyone to say. Somehow he gets away with saying things like that. It just comes across as funny and charming somehow. I like odd people.
Now I'm at a point in my life that I'm not romantically attracted to anyone. At least, when that feeling comes, I violently scold myself. There are so many reasons why I am not attracted to Jeff. There is not enough space in this blog to describe my faults with him - the greatest being his pathetic idea of relationships including his current one. And Vlad, my feelings will never change, but I have to bury all of that deep, deep deep down. Approaching the one year anniversary of silence. I try to be mad about it or hurt, but it's just so strange that curiosity outweighs any other emotion. Why would anyone stop talking to me without reason for one year and block any possible communication?
You treat me like a disease.
Maybe I am.
And I don't stop til you're dead. It's just.. I thought things were getting better.
I went to a wedding this weekend and it was ridiculously fun. The ceremony was in a backyard and lasted maybe 12 minutes. The reception was 3 days of partying in Reno. A lot of dancing. A lot of gambling. I learned how to play Roulette - and I really like it. I always thought a Vegas or Reno wedding sounded really tacky, but I am converted. That was the best wedding I've ever been to.
I almost got choked up during minute 8 or 9 of the wedding but I realized I was feeling sorry for myself. It made me feel like a dick, so I took a long drink and choked that down. Damn those two people love eachother. I want that. It reminded me of a pure love. It made my jokes about wedding crashing and trying to sleep with the groomsman with blonde hair seem less funny.
I think the funniest thing anyone has said to me recently was "Hello the pretiest girl in the whole world. Will you be around for christmas? I will let you touch my butt, but that's all. I don't want to have a relationship with you."
Hehe... my drunk friend who apologized the next day "I'm sorry I called you beautiful, I was drunk" which would be an offensive thing for anyone to say. Somehow he gets away with saying things like that. It just comes across as funny and charming somehow. I like odd people.
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
Habits
I was jonesing for the blog until I resuscitated it. Lately I've been too busy.
Doing what? you may ask. I'm learning the tarot. I made two pairs of pants. I'm addicted to Bravo reality shows. I finished Neil Gaiman's 'Fragile Things.' I'm writing a book... that can only be described as a wanna-be Neil Gaiman story.... with vampires. For a long time I've wanted to make a comic book about vampires that was funny. A comic about people who happened to be vampires. Then I realized I'm too damn lazy to ever finish more than 3 consecutive pages of a comic. So I'm writing a 'novel.' If I could spend as much time writing as I do blogging, I could write a book in a year or two I think. I really want to write about immortality as a realistic condition, without it being full of the angst common to a lot of vampire work. The main character is in love with life and finding new ways to enjoy it after 700 years. His best friend and roommate is a new vampire, only 30 years immortal, and he is reaching the 'angsty' phase. During the course of the story, my main character will create a vampire and she will have to start from zero. I'm not going for the 'vampire as a blood disorder' angle either - there will still be a little fantasy, without focusing on fantasy.
Action, romance, comedy, with as little drama and morality as possible.
I spend too much time falling in love with my characters and tend to forget the purpose of plot. I'm trying not to get fatalistic and say things like "i'll let you read the draft when it's finished sometime between 1 year and never."
I feel good about this life right now. I had a little bit of post-traumatic stress after the ..situation. I'm not letting it consume my life. I feel like all the negatives in my life (mid-level anxiety, no cash for coffee tomorrow, 5 pounds excess weight in the thigh region) could all be solved by one simple thing.
A man.
Heh. Stiiiill waiting on that train. I've been sitting in this station for nearly a year, you know just reading. Running down the tracks waving my arms didn't do any good. Where's that FUCKING train!!?!?!
I had a really depressing dream the other day. Two men jumped me while I was getting into my car one night and they shoved me in the back of a van. I had a cell phone. I sat there staring at it. It all went too fast, I wouldn't be able to describe the truck to the police and I didn't know where they were heading. It wouldn't do any good. I considered calling my mom. I had to anguish over the decision to call her and tell her I love her one last time, which would upset her and make her feel utterly helpless and terrified. Then again, there would be a finality for my family if they knew I was dead without having desperate and ultimately disappointing hope. I ended up calling Jeff because .... I don't really know but it seemed like a good idea to call a man. He didn't believe that I was actually about to die, because he would surely not be the person I would call if I was dying. He had a point. After I hung up with him I only had 5 minutes before the truck stopped. I never got the chance to call my mom. The two men pulled me out of the truck in a long three sided concrete garage (like a truck receiving bay) with a chair and rope in the corner. I broke free for a moment and ran, but was caught. I struggled hopelessly, desperately, like a trapped animal. And then I just cried. I wasn't ready to die. It was all very realistic. It made me uncomfortable for two days afterwards.
Processing dreams are no fun. Where's the good escapist dreams?
Where's my dark-haired dream lover?
And, seriously, where's that damn train..... I've checked my watch 786 times this year, but it doesn't seem to be coming.
Doing what? you may ask. I'm learning the tarot. I made two pairs of pants. I'm addicted to Bravo reality shows. I finished Neil Gaiman's 'Fragile Things.' I'm writing a book... that can only be described as a wanna-be Neil Gaiman story.... with vampires. For a long time I've wanted to make a comic book about vampires that was funny. A comic about people who happened to be vampires. Then I realized I'm too damn lazy to ever finish more than 3 consecutive pages of a comic. So I'm writing a 'novel.' If I could spend as much time writing as I do blogging, I could write a book in a year or two I think. I really want to write about immortality as a realistic condition, without it being full of the angst common to a lot of vampire work. The main character is in love with life and finding new ways to enjoy it after 700 years. His best friend and roommate is a new vampire, only 30 years immortal, and he is reaching the 'angsty' phase. During the course of the story, my main character will create a vampire and she will have to start from zero. I'm not going for the 'vampire as a blood disorder' angle either - there will still be a little fantasy, without focusing on fantasy.
Action, romance, comedy, with as little drama and morality as possible.
I spend too much time falling in love with my characters and tend to forget the purpose of plot. I'm trying not to get fatalistic and say things like "i'll let you read the draft when it's finished sometime between 1 year and never."
I feel good about this life right now. I had a little bit of post-traumatic stress after the ..situation. I'm not letting it consume my life. I feel like all the negatives in my life (mid-level anxiety, no cash for coffee tomorrow, 5 pounds excess weight in the thigh region) could all be solved by one simple thing.
A man.
Heh. Stiiiill waiting on that train. I've been sitting in this station for nearly a year, you know just reading. Running down the tracks waving my arms didn't do any good. Where's that FUCKING train!!?!?!
I had a really depressing dream the other day. Two men jumped me while I was getting into my car one night and they shoved me in the back of a van. I had a cell phone. I sat there staring at it. It all went too fast, I wouldn't be able to describe the truck to the police and I didn't know where they were heading. It wouldn't do any good. I considered calling my mom. I had to anguish over the decision to call her and tell her I love her one last time, which would upset her and make her feel utterly helpless and terrified. Then again, there would be a finality for my family if they knew I was dead without having desperate and ultimately disappointing hope. I ended up calling Jeff because .... I don't really know but it seemed like a good idea to call a man. He didn't believe that I was actually about to die, because he would surely not be the person I would call if I was dying. He had a point. After I hung up with him I only had 5 minutes before the truck stopped. I never got the chance to call my mom. The two men pulled me out of the truck in a long three sided concrete garage (like a truck receiving bay) with a chair and rope in the corner. I broke free for a moment and ran, but was caught. I struggled hopelessly, desperately, like a trapped animal. And then I just cried. I wasn't ready to die. It was all very realistic. It made me uncomfortable for two days afterwards.
Processing dreams are no fun. Where's the good escapist dreams?
Where's my dark-haired dream lover?
And, seriously, where's that damn train..... I've checked my watch 786 times this year, but it doesn't seem to be coming.
Thursday, August 21, 2008
Rebirth
What is it that they say in airports? Threat level has been raised to code orange, please report any suspicious activities or persons to airport security. This is orange. Last week it was red. High alert.
Thanks to those who were concerned. If you missed it, there's a drug addict psychopath whose been planning my demise for six years in ways that cannot be described here. Sick twisted fuck. He's being watched. If he moves, well... he won't.
In the mean time, I'm undergoing the process to get licenced to carry. It's something I've been meaning to do for a while. Then Darren can feel free to come and get me.
It's been driving me crazy all this shit going on. I want to tell everyone and at the same time I don't want to talk about it. I just want people to acknowledge this is really fucked up. And then that's all. I don't want people to worry about me. I'm a valkyrie, I can shoot to kill. My dad's sending me poetry about fear and ... I swear to God I wanted to scream. Biting my tongue until it bleeds because he's paying my registration fees .... and likely sending me one of his 38's. I have to be nice. I am not a damsel in distress.
On the flip side... I have never been closer to my real dad, Andy. It's funny. He's the only one who understands this part of me. My mom is a girl. She can't help that. She is a damsel in distress with a baby. My dad expects me to be the same way. He was shocked when I told him I wanted my CCW. And honestly it was Andy's idea. Andy understands my paranoia, which is an obsession with being ready for the worst. He understands my capability to protect life by taking another's. He talks about our Choctaw heritage, which he describes as "nice, but do not FUCK with us" and he emphasizes FUCK. He talks about his misguided anger and frustration at life, suicidal depression, and a desire to live forever all in the same sentance. And I understand exactly what he means.
I never saw that coming. That dumb bitch in elementary school was right when she said "someday you're gonna want to know about your real dad." And I retorted with the elementary equivalent of 'fuck off': "Whatever. I doubt it."
Thanks to those who were concerned. If you missed it, there's a drug addict psychopath whose been planning my demise for six years in ways that cannot be described here. Sick twisted fuck. He's being watched. If he moves, well... he won't.
In the mean time, I'm undergoing the process to get licenced to carry. It's something I've been meaning to do for a while. Then Darren can feel free to come and get me.
It's been driving me crazy all this shit going on. I want to tell everyone and at the same time I don't want to talk about it. I just want people to acknowledge this is really fucked up. And then that's all. I don't want people to worry about me. I'm a valkyrie, I can shoot to kill. My dad's sending me poetry about fear and ... I swear to God I wanted to scream. Biting my tongue until it bleeds because he's paying my registration fees .... and likely sending me one of his 38's. I have to be nice. I am not a damsel in distress.
On the flip side... I have never been closer to my real dad, Andy. It's funny. He's the only one who understands this part of me. My mom is a girl. She can't help that. She is a damsel in distress with a baby. My dad expects me to be the same way. He was shocked when I told him I wanted my CCW. And honestly it was Andy's idea. Andy understands my paranoia, which is an obsession with being ready for the worst. He understands my capability to protect life by taking another's. He talks about our Choctaw heritage, which he describes as "nice, but do not FUCK with us" and he emphasizes FUCK. He talks about his misguided anger and frustration at life, suicidal depression, and a desire to live forever all in the same sentance. And I understand exactly what he means.
I never saw that coming. That dumb bitch in elementary school was right when she said "someday you're gonna want to know about your real dad." And I retorted with the elementary equivalent of 'fuck off': "Whatever. I doubt it."
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