Hey everybody, I'm at the library because we have no Internet. Will be getting it back sometime within the next couple of weeks...which means I'll be 'stranded' at Christmas without contact with the outside world. I'm totally upset with this prospect, but if you have no control, you have no control. (What I don't have is the money to get the computer fixed. It can had a virus, which corrupted the files but left the hard drive alone. Thankfully.) Anyhoo, I wanted to come in and tell all my friends Merry Christmas when I had a chance.
Dear Elena, Ergo, Amy, Wendy, Miss T, BC, TJ, I hope you each have a wonderful holiday and get lots of nice things from Santa. ;) I love you all and wish I were there to celebrate with you.
Dear SS, I hope you have a fantastic Christmas and that you get all that you want. I love you with all my heart.
I will talk to you all sometime during the next couple of weeks--keep your fingers crossed!
HO HO HO!
xo jen
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Deck the Halls
It's official: the Christmas season is upon us. Do you know how I know?
I saw my first wreath on the front of an SUV.
Does anybody else besides me think that's the weirdest new Christmas tradition? I mean, honestly. The car does not need to be decorated. It's your car. No need for greenery, tinsel, bows, ornaments, reindeer antlers (swear to you, I saw them on a Caddy at Wal-Mart last week); the car's paint job is decoration enough. No mistletoe hanging from the rearview, either. Kissing's great, yeah, but not while you're operating a massive moving vehicle, you know?
I wonder when drivers will start adding twinkle lights and garland to the grille. If wreaths are there, can the rest be far behind?
It'll be like Santa's Workshop exploded.
I saw my first wreath on the front of an SUV.
Does anybody else besides me think that's the weirdest new Christmas tradition? I mean, honestly. The car does not need to be decorated. It's your car. No need for greenery, tinsel, bows, ornaments, reindeer antlers (swear to you, I saw them on a Caddy at Wal-Mart last week); the car's paint job is decoration enough. No mistletoe hanging from the rearview, either. Kissing's great, yeah, but not while you're operating a massive moving vehicle, you know?
I wonder when drivers will start adding twinkle lights and garland to the grille. If wreaths are there, can the rest be far behind?
It'll be like Santa's Workshop exploded.
Thursday, December 3, 2009
Saturday, November 28, 2009
Trust Me To Open My Mouth
Guess what I've figured out? I've managed either to embarrass or to piss off everyone I've ever spoken to. How about me, I've set a record. It's just that I have no patience for 'beating around the bush' or trying to ingratiate oneself to someone else. Most other people don't get that; they're of the opinion that you shouldn't 'make waves' by being blunt. I'll temper that tendency, but if you want me to hedge my thoughts, sorry, I'm no good at that.
Of course, the 'embarrassing' and 'pissing off' doesn't only come with saying the wrong thing. Comes from saying (what I grasp to be) the right thing as well. Someone else can say the exact same thing I do, but I'm the one who gets reprimanded for it.
I have a feeling that if I started talking like a Stepford wife, it still wouldn't work out. I'd say one thing wrong and there ya go. Fucked up again.
So if I've ever embarrassed or pissed you off, you who are reading this, my deepest apologies. I apparently don't have enough self-monitoring abilities to be a social creature. See why I stay home so much?
Thank Heaven for the Internet; this way I can anger and annoy people without ever leaving the house. *coughSARCASMcough*
Of course, the 'embarrassing' and 'pissing off' doesn't only come with saying the wrong thing. Comes from saying (what I grasp to be) the right thing as well. Someone else can say the exact same thing I do, but I'm the one who gets reprimanded for it.
I have a feeling that if I started talking like a Stepford wife, it still wouldn't work out. I'd say one thing wrong and there ya go. Fucked up again.
So if I've ever embarrassed or pissed you off, you who are reading this, my deepest apologies. I apparently don't have enough self-monitoring abilities to be a social creature. See why I stay home so much?
Thank Heaven for the Internet; this way I can anger and annoy people without ever leaving the house. *coughSARCASMcough*
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Bittersweet Symphony
There are many things in my life for which I am thankful. I try to keep them in mind each day, in little ways, but sometimes that's hard to do. I remind myself, 'Hey, this isn't always going to be this way, one day he'll/she'll be gone, or I will, or the circumstances will change,' etc. And that does help me remember all the good things around me.
L is a wonderful gift I received 21 1/2 years ago, right after I lost my dad. She has been righthere ever since, if not always physically, then emotionally and psychologically. We've both changed a lot since 1988; we've grown so much and so subtly that it's been hard to notice at times. We're definitely better people because of our friendship. She's the Siamese twin I never conjoined with. ;)
Dumplin and Raindrop are little furry miracles in my life. Dumplin, especially, has helped me open my heart and my soul to love. He was the tiniest ball of fuzz at 8 weeks old; he could stand with all four paws on my ankle. Now he's 13 pounds of muscle and slinkiness--and takes up my entire lower leg when he lies down. I almost lost him three years ago due to severe illness, but he pulled through. I can't imagine him not being here. Rain? He's my perpetual kitten, full of love and cuddles. Not much goes on behind those green eyes, but he loves his Mommy and his big brother, and he's a whiz at catching special mousies. :)
I'm thankful for my home, having enough food to eat and electricity to stay warm, medicine and machines that help keep me alive, still having vision so that I can read and see my loved ones and the beautiful world around me. I'm grateful for living in the 21st century, where advancements are being made in everything. I would love to see cures for diabetes, AIDS, cancer, fibromyalgia, MS, all chronic diseases, in my lifetime.
I'm glad I live in the US, where women have rights, and voices, and freedom. I don't live in fear of being raided by the government.
I can drive and walk and shop and read and listen to music and sing and talk and see and hear and sleep and love.
My friends, many of whom I've met on the Internet, are so special to me and live forever in my heart. They lift me up when I can't keep from dragging myself down.
My family? They're a double-edged sword. They've been there for me as long as I'm doing what's expected, what's acceptable (either to them, to society, or to both). Once I stray off the beaten path, however...the support structure comes crashing down. So, sometimes I'm ok, sometimes I'm not. But that's just how it is. I'm learning to accept that situation, even if I don't like it.
I try to be thankful for both the good and the bad, because all of it has made me the woman I am now. And I like me pretty well. Usually. Every other day or so. ;)
Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.
xo jen
L is a wonderful gift I received 21 1/2 years ago, right after I lost my dad. She has been righthere ever since, if not always physically, then emotionally and psychologically. We've both changed a lot since 1988; we've grown so much and so subtly that it's been hard to notice at times. We're definitely better people because of our friendship. She's the Siamese twin I never conjoined with. ;)
Dumplin and Raindrop are little furry miracles in my life. Dumplin, especially, has helped me open my heart and my soul to love. He was the tiniest ball of fuzz at 8 weeks old; he could stand with all four paws on my ankle. Now he's 13 pounds of muscle and slinkiness--and takes up my entire lower leg when he lies down. I almost lost him three years ago due to severe illness, but he pulled through. I can't imagine him not being here. Rain? He's my perpetual kitten, full of love and cuddles. Not much goes on behind those green eyes, but he loves his Mommy and his big brother, and he's a whiz at catching special mousies. :)
I'm thankful for my home, having enough food to eat and electricity to stay warm, medicine and machines that help keep me alive, still having vision so that I can read and see my loved ones and the beautiful world around me. I'm grateful for living in the 21st century, where advancements are being made in everything. I would love to see cures for diabetes, AIDS, cancer, fibromyalgia, MS, all chronic diseases, in my lifetime.
I'm glad I live in the US, where women have rights, and voices, and freedom. I don't live in fear of being raided by the government.
I can drive and walk and shop and read and listen to music and sing and talk and see and hear and sleep and love.
My friends, many of whom I've met on the Internet, are so special to me and live forever in my heart. They lift me up when I can't keep from dragging myself down.
My family? They're a double-edged sword. They've been there for me as long as I'm doing what's expected, what's acceptable (either to them, to society, or to both). Once I stray off the beaten path, however...the support structure comes crashing down. So, sometimes I'm ok, sometimes I'm not. But that's just how it is. I'm learning to accept that situation, even if I don't like it.
I try to be thankful for both the good and the bad, because all of it has made me the woman I am now. And I like me pretty well. Usually. Every other day or so. ;)
Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.
xo jen
Friday, November 13, 2009
No Particular Place to Go
The anon situation is getting worse. They have the most warped sense of right and wrong, of decency, of hypocrisy--how I hate that word. Their only goals appear to be insulting, mocking, belittling, tormenting, goading, and lying about us. Not that that part's any different. No, what's different is that lately they've been sounding more vicious, more desperate to smear the rest of us thoroughly in the eyes of Mayo and SS. And honestly, if those two haven't made up their minds about us already, whatever shit the anons produce isn't going to change those opinions.
Mayo's too hard for me to read. He gives nothing away, at least not anymore. Used to, we could tell his moods or thoughts from his posts and from his occasional comments to us. Now we get posts that say things without saying anything; we get nothing challenging; we get no communication. He used to tell us he liked us to discuss his writings because he enjoyed reading what we got from them.
Not much to get from them anymore. It's hard to discuss a picture of rocks, y'know? C'mon, Mayo, tell us what you believe in now, tell us your thoughts on life, on love, on heartbreak, on anything. You used to talk to L; you used to talk to Elena. Not anymore. You give off a really half-hearted vibe these days, like the fire's gone out of your soul. What happened? Did we bore you so easily?
SS is easier for me to 'get'. Usually he puts it right out there, whatever the 'it' in question may be. He's not as cryptic as Mayo--thank Heaven, I don't think we could take two of them--although sometimes he'll whip out the old The geese fly at midnight, make sure the lizard's out of the barn routine. And then we all go, Wha?
It seems as if SS takes more time to show us he's there, but he doesn't come around nearly as often as he used to. Again, is it from being busy, or is it from loss of interest? He used to have fun with us; Hell, so did Mayo.
Maybe the ones of us left are too boring. Granted, we don't live exciting, adventuresome lives, but we do some interesting things, and we care about each other, and the guys. I've wondered what would happen if I just kinda...wandered away from the place. I can talk to my girlfriends on emails, or at Seven. Mayo's only ever spoken to me once in two years, so, yeah. SS? I would miss talking to him, and hearing back from him when he could. It's been so long since I've actually spoken with him in real time...maybe he would visit me at my blog, if I left. Yep, he'll just hop on over, sign right in, and write all night. Yep. Sure will. >.<
I don't know, it's something I need to think about. I know that most times when I go to Mayo's, anons aren't far behind. And then all the shit starts again. And I just don't want to deal with it. I know I'd miss it if I left for good, though.
What a place, what a place. I can leave it, but it keeps dragging me back.
Mayo's too hard for me to read. He gives nothing away, at least not anymore. Used to, we could tell his moods or thoughts from his posts and from his occasional comments to us. Now we get posts that say things without saying anything; we get nothing challenging; we get no communication. He used to tell us he liked us to discuss his writings because he enjoyed reading what we got from them.
Not much to get from them anymore. It's hard to discuss a picture of rocks, y'know? C'mon, Mayo, tell us what you believe in now, tell us your thoughts on life, on love, on heartbreak, on anything. You used to talk to L; you used to talk to Elena. Not anymore. You give off a really half-hearted vibe these days, like the fire's gone out of your soul. What happened? Did we bore you so easily?
SS is easier for me to 'get'. Usually he puts it right out there, whatever the 'it' in question may be. He's not as cryptic as Mayo--thank Heaven, I don't think we could take two of them--although sometimes he'll whip out the old The geese fly at midnight, make sure the lizard's out of the barn routine. And then we all go, Wha?
It seems as if SS takes more time to show us he's there, but he doesn't come around nearly as often as he used to. Again, is it from being busy, or is it from loss of interest? He used to have fun with us; Hell, so did Mayo.
Maybe the ones of us left are too boring. Granted, we don't live exciting, adventuresome lives, but we do some interesting things, and we care about each other, and the guys. I've wondered what would happen if I just kinda...wandered away from the place. I can talk to my girlfriends on emails, or at Seven. Mayo's only ever spoken to me once in two years, so, yeah. SS? I would miss talking to him, and hearing back from him when he could. It's been so long since I've actually spoken with him in real time...maybe he would visit me at my blog, if I left. Yep, he'll just hop on over, sign right in, and write all night. Yep. Sure will. >.<
I don't know, it's something I need to think about. I know that most times when I go to Mayo's, anons aren't far behind. And then all the shit starts again. And I just don't want to deal with it. I know I'd miss it if I left for good, though.
What a place, what a place. I can leave it, but it keeps dragging me back.
Friday, November 6, 2009
The New Pictures...
...of Frank are really, really good. He looks happier, more relaxed, healthy, confident.
And oh so very handsome. ;)
And oh so very handsome. ;)
Saturday, October 31, 2009
They Say Its Your Birthday
Happy Birthday to our favorite Boo-Baby, Frank Iero!
May you have a year blessed with happiness, security, wonder, and love.
xo jen
May you have a year blessed with happiness, security, wonder, and love.
xo jen
Saturday, October 24, 2009
Baby, Ain't NOBODY Drivin' My Car
The title alone should tell you something. O_o
Yesterday and today, I would have gladly paid a terrorist to blow up my car. Let me explain...
Last week, I had a flat at the doctor's office which the wrecker service changed. Got the donut put on. I've been driving on it for a little over a week, but I don't go out too much, and L's been kind enough to take me when I need to go. So, yesterday I had the new tire mounted and my left taillight replaced. No problems, everything's good. Drove the car for about an hour, went to the used bookstore for a couple hours, came outside...
Click.
Holy crap, to purloin a phrase. Found a guy who jumped me off, got back in the car, turned the A/C up one notch...
Car died.
Click.
New guy, got me started--again--drove down the road to pick up dinner. Was sitting in the drive-thru at Hardee's, turned to drive around to the window...
Car died.
No click.
This really nice guy who worked at Hardee's tried jumping my battery for 30 minutes in the drive-thru lane--which they shut down while I was blocking it, luckily there weren't many customers. The charge wouldn't take.
So my little car spent the night sitting in a parking space at Hardee's, where the drive-thru worker and a guy from the bar in the strip mall behind it had pushed it. We met the wrecker guy there this morning; he dragged it up on a flatbed and drove it back to PepBoys, where it had spent part of yesterday being re-shoed. Found out later: one battery cable's broken, no problem to fix it.
But.
The front brakes are gone. I have to have the pads, the fluid, and the rotors replaced.
Click.
Anyway, my four-wheeled baby is spending the weekend in the garage at PepBoys because I was too fucking tired to pick it up tonight. At least it's safe and being repaired.
All this, plus my older nephew C (the one who contracts for the DOD in Iraq) has come home to get treatment for kidney stones. That part's ok. The part that's NOT ok is that last night he thought he was having a heart attack and stayed overnight in the ER, then Observation; they did every test known to man plus some probably not yet known. Ran the dye and did the treadmill this morning. According to the doctor, C had all the symptoms, but no signs, of a heart attack. They found nothing. Said his age was a precluding factor (he's 30), and that there could be any number of reasons why this happened.
He's seriously thinking about not going back overseas. I hope he doesn't.
Oh, and then this afternoon on the way home? L drove over a curb and sliced her right front tire. Luckily we were at a gas station, and this very nice young man helped us change the spare.
I'm not even asking what else can happen.
Click.
Yesterday and today, I would have gladly paid a terrorist to blow up my car. Let me explain...
Last week, I had a flat at the doctor's office which the wrecker service changed. Got the donut put on. I've been driving on it for a little over a week, but I don't go out too much, and L's been kind enough to take me when I need to go. So, yesterday I had the new tire mounted and my left taillight replaced. No problems, everything's good. Drove the car for about an hour, went to the used bookstore for a couple hours, came outside...
Click.
Holy crap, to purloin a phrase. Found a guy who jumped me off, got back in the car, turned the A/C up one notch...
Car died.
Click.
New guy, got me started--again--drove down the road to pick up dinner. Was sitting in the drive-thru at Hardee's, turned to drive around to the window...
Car died.
No click.
This really nice guy who worked at Hardee's tried jumping my battery for 30 minutes in the drive-thru lane--which they shut down while I was blocking it, luckily there weren't many customers. The charge wouldn't take.
So my little car spent the night sitting in a parking space at Hardee's, where the drive-thru worker and a guy from the bar in the strip mall behind it had pushed it. We met the wrecker guy there this morning; he dragged it up on a flatbed and drove it back to PepBoys, where it had spent part of yesterday being re-shoed. Found out later: one battery cable's broken, no problem to fix it.
But.
The front brakes are gone. I have to have the pads, the fluid, and the rotors replaced.
Click.
Anyway, my four-wheeled baby is spending the weekend in the garage at PepBoys because I was too fucking tired to pick it up tonight. At least it's safe and being repaired.
All this, plus my older nephew C (the one who contracts for the DOD in Iraq) has come home to get treatment for kidney stones. That part's ok. The part that's NOT ok is that last night he thought he was having a heart attack and stayed overnight in the ER, then Observation; they did every test known to man plus some probably not yet known. Ran the dye and did the treadmill this morning. According to the doctor, C had all the symptoms, but no signs, of a heart attack. They found nothing. Said his age was a precluding factor (he's 30), and that there could be any number of reasons why this happened.
He's seriously thinking about not going back overseas. I hope he doesn't.
Oh, and then this afternoon on the way home? L drove over a curb and sliced her right front tire. Luckily we were at a gas station, and this very nice young man helped us change the spare.
I'm not even asking what else can happen.
Click.
Monday, October 12, 2009
I Don't Love You
For those of you who came here to watch me 'flip my shit', as someone once so eloquently put it, go home now. There will be no shit-flipping from me. Not for the likes of you, that's for sure. I took that power away from you creatures a long time ago.
For the four or five of you left, let me tell you a little something. Gather 'round, little babies, and listen closely, cause I'm not saying any of this again.
I don't know who in the universe elected you my judges, jury members, and executioners, but it was not me. I only have one of those, and He is most definitely not you. What I do, what I say, how I act, what I think, and how I live my life is nobody's business but my own. There is nothing, nothing, that I must, or will, justify to you or anyone else. And yes, that includes anything I post in a public forum, because I do not post anything I would not actually say. I've been a blunt, opinionated, honest woman longer than most of you have been alive, probably, and I intend to remain one. I don't really expect any of you to stop taking cheap shots at me; it seems to give you so much pleasure. Who am I to take that away from you?
But. Neither will I start addressing you all again. Don't try to engage me. Don't try to bait me. Don't make your snide, tacky little comments in front of me and then say I'm ignoring you. Bingo, Rhodes scholars. I surely am.
Oh, and before you start with "That wasn't me" or "I wasn't here that time" or "I never saw this place before yesterday"? In my eyes, if you go by the name "Anonymous", you have nothing but ugly words for me, you've been to the Castle once in the past two years and called me a name that once, and you've dedicated your free time to bullying me, you are one of the Nasty Anons. I don't know any of you. I don't want to know any of you. How do you think I'm supposed to differentiate between "Anonymous" and "Anonymous"?
For the ones of you who act like you're defending me, don't. For the rare anon who actually does defend me, thanks.
Don't assume SS and Mayo are ignorant, or blind. These men are extremely intelligent, and understand far more than you give them credit for. If you think you're earning points with them by acting the way you do, maybe you should think twice.
I have never done anything in my life to attract attention from anyone, and you can believe that or not. I don't care what you creatures think of me. I am who I am, I say what I say, and I do what I do. You don't like it?
Scroll past.
For the four or five of you left, let me tell you a little something. Gather 'round, little babies, and listen closely, cause I'm not saying any of this again.
I don't know who in the universe elected you my judges, jury members, and executioners, but it was not me. I only have one of those, and He is most definitely not you. What I do, what I say, how I act, what I think, and how I live my life is nobody's business but my own. There is nothing, nothing, that I must, or will, justify to you or anyone else. And yes, that includes anything I post in a public forum, because I do not post anything I would not actually say. I've been a blunt, opinionated, honest woman longer than most of you have been alive, probably, and I intend to remain one. I don't really expect any of you to stop taking cheap shots at me; it seems to give you so much pleasure. Who am I to take that away from you?
But. Neither will I start addressing you all again. Don't try to engage me. Don't try to bait me. Don't make your snide, tacky little comments in front of me and then say I'm ignoring you. Bingo, Rhodes scholars. I surely am.
Oh, and before you start with "That wasn't me" or "I wasn't here that time" or "I never saw this place before yesterday"? In my eyes, if you go by the name "Anonymous", you have nothing but ugly words for me, you've been to the Castle once in the past two years and called me a name that once, and you've dedicated your free time to bullying me, you are one of the Nasty Anons. I don't know any of you. I don't want to know any of you. How do you think I'm supposed to differentiate between "Anonymous" and "Anonymous"?
For the ones of you who act like you're defending me, don't. For the rare anon who actually does defend me, thanks.
Don't assume SS and Mayo are ignorant, or blind. These men are extremely intelligent, and understand far more than you give them credit for. If you think you're earning points with them by acting the way you do, maybe you should think twice.
I have never done anything in my life to attract attention from anyone, and you can believe that or not. I don't care what you creatures think of me. I am who I am, I say what I say, and I do what I do. You don't like it?
Scroll past.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
I Love...
I love the sound of rain at night, especially the slow kind with low, rolling thunder.
I love kittens.
I love the music I love played loud.
I love cinnamon anything.
I love pizza.
I love Mexican and Italian. Food. ;)
I love my furbabies sleeping on me in my bed.
I love books; I love to read; I love going to bookstores and just being surrounded by books.
I love bright colors, especially in twinkly lights.
I love the stars.
I love Monty Python, Eddie Izzard, the late Bill Hicks, "Absolutely Fabulous", and "The Big Bang Theory".
I love a good debate.
I love the ocean and the beach at night.
I love my neck being kissed.
I love my mouth being kissed, slowly and softly.
I love most everything of mine being kissed. Except my feet. Tickles.
I love Halloween.
I love stuffed animals (my only "girlie" vice).
I love to watch snow falling.
I love...you.
I love kittens.
I love the music I love played loud.
I love cinnamon anything.
I love pizza.
I love Mexican and Italian. Food. ;)
I love my furbabies sleeping on me in my bed.
I love books; I love to read; I love going to bookstores and just being surrounded by books.
I love bright colors, especially in twinkly lights.
I love the stars.
I love Monty Python, Eddie Izzard, the late Bill Hicks, "Absolutely Fabulous", and "The Big Bang Theory".
I love a good debate.
I love the ocean and the beach at night.
I love my neck being kissed.
I love my mouth being kissed, slowly and softly.
I love most everything of mine being kissed. Except my feet. Tickles.
I love Halloween.
I love stuffed animals (my only "girlie" vice).
I love to watch snow falling.
I love...you.
Monday, September 7, 2009
I Threw a Pity Party...
...but no one showed up except me, and my whiny ass annoyed the fuck out of me, so I kicked me out.
Now the place is quiet again. Thank Heaven.
Really, what happened was, I got some good words from some good people, and I started thinking about things, and I know some more things now than I did when I wrote the last post. And I'm really, really good with what I know.
Thank you Amy for what I call slapping me with the Cold Wet Handtowel of Reality. You always lay it out there for me, and I appreciate it. *hugs*
Thank you Wendy for your kindness and your encouragement. Your words made me cry, but that wasn't a bad thing. *hugs*
Thank you Wish, I just reread Wendy's comment and thought about it being from you the second time around. ;) *hugs*
Thank you Anon for buoying my spirit and renewing my faith. I'm walking that long and winding road, and I'm ready to come home.
Thank you, all my friends. You're the best.
Now the place is quiet again. Thank Heaven.
Really, what happened was, I got some good words from some good people, and I started thinking about things, and I know some more things now than I did when I wrote the last post. And I'm really, really good with what I know.
Thank you Amy for what I call slapping me with the Cold Wet Handtowel of Reality. You always lay it out there for me, and I appreciate it. *hugs*
Thank you Wendy for your kindness and your encouragement. Your words made me cry, but that wasn't a bad thing. *hugs*
Thank you Wish, I just reread Wendy's comment and thought about it being from you the second time around. ;) *hugs*
Thank you Anon for buoying my spirit and renewing my faith. I'm walking that long and winding road, and I'm ready to come home.
Thank you, all my friends. You're the best.
Friday, August 28, 2009
sad, sad, sad
Today the realization hit me that I will probably always be alone.
Not in terms of friends or family. In terms of having someone special to share my life with, a "one true love", my soulmate. My chances of ever finding him are so narrow; I mean, let's face it, I'm almost 44.
My luck has never been good.
Maybe I'm not supposed to find him. Maybe I'm supposed to live out the rest of my life without true love.
Maybe that sucks. Yeah, right, no maybe about it. It does. But I can't change it.
It's hard for me to put into words what I'm feeling. Sorrow is at the top of the list. I always ask, Why is it this way, always, every time? So I guess heartbroken is next. Lonely. Taken for granted...kinda. Good enough to be a friend, but not good enough to be anything more. Always.
I don't know why I'm even writing this. Nobody cares what I say. Except the mean ones, and they rape the meaning out of all my words, and throw them back at me, and mock me.
Maybe I should just quit talking.
I doubt anyone would notice.
Not in terms of friends or family. In terms of having someone special to share my life with, a "one true love", my soulmate. My chances of ever finding him are so narrow; I mean, let's face it, I'm almost 44.
My luck has never been good.
Maybe I'm not supposed to find him. Maybe I'm supposed to live out the rest of my life without true love.
Maybe that sucks. Yeah, right, no maybe about it. It does. But I can't change it.
It's hard for me to put into words what I'm feeling. Sorrow is at the top of the list. I always ask, Why is it this way, always, every time? So I guess heartbroken is next. Lonely. Taken for granted...kinda. Good enough to be a friend, but not good enough to be anything more. Always.
I don't know why I'm even writing this. Nobody cares what I say. Except the mean ones, and they rape the meaning out of all my words, and throw them back at me, and mock me.
Maybe I should just quit talking.
I doubt anyone would notice.
Monday, August 17, 2009
They Don't Know
All I want is for them to leave me alone.
If some people out there don't like me, I'm sorry, but that's how it works in real life too.
That's no reason to be harassed, insulted, called names, picked apart, and treated like I'm less than human.
No one has ever offered an apology for any of that behavior.
I'm expected to sit quietly and take the abuse.
I won't do that.
I'm no victim.
But is it too much to ask them to leave me alone?
It appears to be so.
They seem to take great pleasure in pointing out how hideous they think I am.
They don't know me.
I know me.
My friends know me.
As a wise woman once said, "Those who matter don't mind, and those who mind don't matter."
If some people out there don't like me, I'm sorry, but that's how it works in real life too.
That's no reason to be harassed, insulted, called names, picked apart, and treated like I'm less than human.
No one has ever offered an apology for any of that behavior.
I'm expected to sit quietly and take the abuse.
I won't do that.
I'm no victim.
But is it too much to ask them to leave me alone?
It appears to be so.
They seem to take great pleasure in pointing out how hideous they think I am.
They don't know me.
I know me.
My friends know me.
As a wise woman once said, "Those who matter don't mind, and those who mind don't matter."
Saturday, July 18, 2009
Random Shit In My Head
"Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince": excellent movie. Stunning special effects, especially near the end. Lots of funny moments, too, all throughout the film.
"Lies for the Liars": I like it. Especially the last song. Beautiful.
Yesterday Rain caught a "special mousie" (i.e., live) and laid it out on proud display in the living room. We had to move it outside to the ivy. Special mousies tend to smell.
My niece has recently become engaged. Still trying to decide if that's a good thing or not. Her fiance is so different from who we thought she'd be with; they're definitely the typical night and day. I just hope it works out for them. Hey, as long as they're happy, and good to each other, I've got no problem. *crosses fingers*
Adulthood is overrated, I've realized. I just want to have one day--just one, mind you--where I don't have to answer any questions about anything, and can simply...hide.
Why does fish food smell like fish? Cannibalism, I'm tellin ya. Survival of the fastest.
I wish there was a good place around here to play pool. It's been years since I played, and I miss it.
In relation to my niece's engagement: if you find someone you love, truly, deeply, love, then be with them, no matter the odds.
Cats could very well rule the world--if only they had thumbs.
Nothing seems to be as comfortable as wearing your jammies and reading a good book. (Well...maybe taking a nap while you're wearing the jammies. That's pretty good too.)
*For now, I'm shutting off the Random Shit Generator and going to bed. In my jammies. With my book. Maybe I'll come up with some more R.S. when I turn it back on. Until then...*
Peace, Love, Faith, Hope, Happiness
"Lies for the Liars": I like it. Especially the last song. Beautiful.
Yesterday Rain caught a "special mousie" (i.e., live) and laid it out on proud display in the living room. We had to move it outside to the ivy. Special mousies tend to smell.
My niece has recently become engaged. Still trying to decide if that's a good thing or not. Her fiance is so different from who we thought she'd be with; they're definitely the typical night and day. I just hope it works out for them. Hey, as long as they're happy, and good to each other, I've got no problem. *crosses fingers*
Adulthood is overrated, I've realized. I just want to have one day--just one, mind you--where I don't have to answer any questions about anything, and can simply...hide.
Why does fish food smell like fish? Cannibalism, I'm tellin ya. Survival of the fastest.
I wish there was a good place around here to play pool. It's been years since I played, and I miss it.
In relation to my niece's engagement: if you find someone you love, truly, deeply, love, then be with them, no matter the odds.
Cats could very well rule the world--if only they had thumbs.
Nothing seems to be as comfortable as wearing your jammies and reading a good book. (Well...maybe taking a nap while you're wearing the jammies. That's pretty good too.)
*For now, I'm shutting off the Random Shit Generator and going to bed. In my jammies. With my book. Maybe I'll come up with some more R.S. when I turn it back on. Until then...*
Peace, Love, Faith, Hope, Happiness
Monday, June 1, 2009
For SS...
Hey baby, how's it goin'? I've seen you here and there, but never for very long. Thought I'd take some time to write you a proper 'letter' and check on you.
You know how sometimes you'll be thinking of someone, and you get a certain feeling, a kind of 'vibe', about them? I had one of those yesterday about you. Yeah, you do cross my mind from time to time. *coughobviousmuchcough* Anyhoo, it struck me, for some reason, that you're going through some tough times right now. I don't have any idea what's happening in your life, couldn't even presume to guess. All I can say is that I feel you're feeling unhappy, frustrated, maybe a little depressed, maybe a little lost, maybe even a little broken.
It may be difficult right now, but deep down you know, I'm sure, that it can--and will--get better. You have to keep plowing through the shit to get to the good stuff. (Some days it looks like the shit goes on forever, but there's a light shining down that leads you to the good stuff. Trust me, it's there.) Be strong, stay focused, keep the faith. That can be fucking hard to do when there's no concrete solution, but we gotta hold onto something.
I still believe in you. I still am on your side. I still trust in you. I still love you. You're a good, kind man with a heart of gold who would rather take a blow than see his friends get blindsided. I feel very fortunate to know you; you're such a special person, such a beautiful soul.
Remember that if you ever want or need to talk, I'm here. It may be presumptuous of me even to suggest that, but I'm still putting it out there. I worry about you, dammit.
Having said all that, I want to 'give' you a video from "The Muppet Show", just for a laugh.
Swedish Chef and lobsters
I had no idea lobsters were bilingual...
Goodnight, Precious. I love you.
My heart to yours, always.
You know how sometimes you'll be thinking of someone, and you get a certain feeling, a kind of 'vibe', about them? I had one of those yesterday about you. Yeah, you do cross my mind from time to time. *coughobviousmuchcough* Anyhoo, it struck me, for some reason, that you're going through some tough times right now. I don't have any idea what's happening in your life, couldn't even presume to guess. All I can say is that I feel you're feeling unhappy, frustrated, maybe a little depressed, maybe a little lost, maybe even a little broken.
It may be difficult right now, but deep down you know, I'm sure, that it can--and will--get better. You have to keep plowing through the shit to get to the good stuff. (Some days it looks like the shit goes on forever, but there's a light shining down that leads you to the good stuff. Trust me, it's there.) Be strong, stay focused, keep the faith. That can be fucking hard to do when there's no concrete solution, but we gotta hold onto something.
I still believe in you. I still am on your side. I still trust in you. I still love you. You're a good, kind man with a heart of gold who would rather take a blow than see his friends get blindsided. I feel very fortunate to know you; you're such a special person, such a beautiful soul.
Remember that if you ever want or need to talk, I'm here. It may be presumptuous of me even to suggest that, but I'm still putting it out there. I worry about you, dammit.
Having said all that, I want to 'give' you a video from "The Muppet Show", just for a laugh.
Swedish Chef and lobsters
I had no idea lobsters were bilingual...
Goodnight, Precious. I love you.
My heart to yours, always.
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Black and White--
Thinking:
Talking? No talking.
We’ve known each other for
An eternity and
A day.
No words are needed
Between us
Anymore.
All we need now is…
(continued at ‘Here’s the Sex Pistols’)
Talking? No talking.
We’ve known each other for
An eternity and
A day.
No words are needed
Between us
Anymore.
All we need now is…
(continued at ‘Here’s the Sex Pistols’)
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Don't Box Me In
Someone once asked me if I thought this other person had a temper. Now mind you, Person 2 had supposedly never shown the angry side of himself. Always happy, pleasant, not a worry in the world. I answered Person 1, "Absolutely. I've seen it, and it wasn't pretty." And it wasn't. It didn't last long, but it was very much in evidence at the time. Just goes to show that you can't judge a book by its cover, you can't assume things about anyone.
My point--yeah, there is one--is that we cannot expect others to act a certain way all the fuckin time. Its perfectly normal to have more than one aspect to your personality. I think that we all have that one basic way of acting in day-to-day situations. Every once in awhile, though, something else oozes out--and that's when you get questions like the one above.
For instance, if you're known as a typically happy person who doesn't scream when they're pissed off, the day that happens, some folks will give you the wide-eyed stare and back away quietly. Why? Because you're "not like that". Guess what? YOU ARE. Maybe you're sick and tired of always being known as "the nice one", "the sweet one", "the little cute one", "the helpful one", "the generous one", whatever. Maybe some days you just want to be "the mean one", "the angry one", "the 'fuck you I'm not cute' one", "the one who doesn't want to help you", "the stingy one". Just so people will leave you the fuck alone.
I can't tell you how many times in my life I've heard one or the other of the assumptions above. I wonder if that wasn't part of what fueled my type of depression: anger. Sometimes people don't take you seriously if they view you as cute or little or sweet or amusing. That is so damnably frustrating. I don't want to be cute, I'm 40-fucking-3! Cute kind of dies out once you leave your teens, or it should. That's when you want to be beautiful (or handsome), sexy, intelligent, respected...the list goes on.
And if you keep hearing those same qualifiers listed above, one of these days, you swear, you're gonna snap. I'll show them, you think. I can be a sonofabitchin motherfucker just like anybody else. Then they'll take me seriously. Some of them do, they give you the respect you should deserve all the time instead of just when you're angry. Others don't even take notice; they'll brush it off as you're just having a bad day. Then you say, "I'm having a bad YEAR, alright?!"
It's easy to slip into that mindset and stay there. The attitude is belligerent, the words confrontational and defensive, every part of you makes a 180...and then you discover that it feels good, for once, to say what you want to say and act like you want to act.
The trouble begins when you like it so well that you want to be like that all the time.
Being part of the blogs has helped me change the way I react to people. I feel I've become better at waiting to talk to people until I know I'm ready (i.e., not angry or hurt). It carries over into real life--well, most of the time. ;)
Please, don't let any one emotion grow out of bounds. Temper them with all the others to make your psyche well-balanced. Let the anger and defensiveness fade out, let some of the kindness and openness back in, because it's in there. It will never completely be extinguished. Know that there's somebody in your life who can still see it, and wants to see it again. They may only be a phone call away.
I say this a lot, but its true:
Its all about the love.
My point--yeah, there is one--is that we cannot expect others to act a certain way all the fuckin time. Its perfectly normal to have more than one aspect to your personality. I think that we all have that one basic way of acting in day-to-day situations. Every once in awhile, though, something else oozes out--and that's when you get questions like the one above.
For instance, if you're known as a typically happy person who doesn't scream when they're pissed off, the day that happens, some folks will give you the wide-eyed stare and back away quietly. Why? Because you're "not like that". Guess what? YOU ARE. Maybe you're sick and tired of always being known as "the nice one", "the sweet one", "the little cute one", "the helpful one", "the generous one", whatever. Maybe some days you just want to be "the mean one", "the angry one", "the 'fuck you I'm not cute' one", "the one who doesn't want to help you", "the stingy one". Just so people will leave you the fuck alone.
I can't tell you how many times in my life I've heard one or the other of the assumptions above. I wonder if that wasn't part of what fueled my type of depression: anger. Sometimes people don't take you seriously if they view you as cute or little or sweet or amusing. That is so damnably frustrating. I don't want to be cute, I'm 40-fucking-3! Cute kind of dies out once you leave your teens, or it should. That's when you want to be beautiful (or handsome), sexy, intelligent, respected...the list goes on.
And if you keep hearing those same qualifiers listed above, one of these days, you swear, you're gonna snap. I'll show them, you think. I can be a sonofabitchin motherfucker just like anybody else. Then they'll take me seriously. Some of them do, they give you the respect you should deserve all the time instead of just when you're angry. Others don't even take notice; they'll brush it off as you're just having a bad day. Then you say, "I'm having a bad YEAR, alright?!"
It's easy to slip into that mindset and stay there. The attitude is belligerent, the words confrontational and defensive, every part of you makes a 180...and then you discover that it feels good, for once, to say what you want to say and act like you want to act.
The trouble begins when you like it so well that you want to be like that all the time.
Being part of the blogs has helped me change the way I react to people. I feel I've become better at waiting to talk to people until I know I'm ready (i.e., not angry or hurt). It carries over into real life--well, most of the time. ;)
Please, don't let any one emotion grow out of bounds. Temper them with all the others to make your psyche well-balanced. Let the anger and defensiveness fade out, let some of the kindness and openness back in, because it's in there. It will never completely be extinguished. Know that there's somebody in your life who can still see it, and wants to see it again. They may only be a phone call away.
I say this a lot, but its true:
Its all about the love.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
"Words"
These are only words
But words are all I have
To show me to you
More difficult the task
Through literary means only
Bereft of emotion or intent
Inflection escapes this tiny screen
Leaving behind
Only words
That cannot hope to express
What fills my heart, or
How it ignites my passion, or
Who my soul hears when it's listening
Words are not able to convey
What's passed inside a touch
*Hugs* can't give you what real arms can
Kisses should tease the lips, not the eyes
There is no substitute for bodies connecting the souls...
These are only words
But words are all I have
J 4.10.09
But words are all I have
To show me to you
More difficult the task
Through literary means only
Bereft of emotion or intent
Inflection escapes this tiny screen
Leaving behind
Only words
That cannot hope to express
What fills my heart, or
How it ignites my passion, or
Who my soul hears when it's listening
Words are not able to convey
What's passed inside a touch
*Hugs* can't give you what real arms can
Kisses should tease the lips, not the eyes
There is no substitute for bodies connecting the souls...
These are only words
But words are all I have
J 4.10.09
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Its All About the *Self* Love
What would happen if you stopped being who others wanted you to be?
What would your life be like?
Would it change greatly, a little, or not at all?
Would you work the same job, go to the same shops and restaurants, buy the same items, eat the same food, wear the same clothes?
Would your relationships change, and how? What would your family think? Would your friends still be your friends? Would you stay with your current spouse/lover/significant other?
All of us are, by varying degrees, guilty of 'going along to get along', not rocking the boat, in order to gain or retain approval. If you're someone who prefers that path, then that's fine. If you'd rather walk down the mountain backwards, then let's talk.
Katharine Hepburn, who truly was ahead of her time, once said, "As long as you always do what you please, at least one person will be happy." Isn't that a great attitude? Of course, lots of people will say, "Oh that's just selfish. Aren't we supposed to put others first?" Well, yeah, to a certain extent. I think, though, if you continuously put others' happiness before your own, eventually there's nothing left inside you. It ends up draining your emotional tanks until there's nothing left but fumes.
Over a year ago I read some comments from two anons, who were talking about this same subject: "Fuck me, I just want everyone to be happy." "Sometimes we have to do what makes US happy."
And that's true. Sometimes you have to put yourself first. Especially if having kept your desires buried for so long has made you feel unworthy of having them.
Don't spend your life being miserable. Spend your life being happy--by being you.
What would your life be like?
Would it change greatly, a little, or not at all?
Would you work the same job, go to the same shops and restaurants, buy the same items, eat the same food, wear the same clothes?
Would your relationships change, and how? What would your family think? Would your friends still be your friends? Would you stay with your current spouse/lover/significant other?
All of us are, by varying degrees, guilty of 'going along to get along', not rocking the boat, in order to gain or retain approval. If you're someone who prefers that path, then that's fine. If you'd rather walk down the mountain backwards, then let's talk.
Katharine Hepburn, who truly was ahead of her time, once said, "As long as you always do what you please, at least one person will be happy." Isn't that a great attitude? Of course, lots of people will say, "Oh that's just selfish. Aren't we supposed to put others first?" Well, yeah, to a certain extent. I think, though, if you continuously put others' happiness before your own, eventually there's nothing left inside you. It ends up draining your emotional tanks until there's nothing left but fumes.
Over a year ago I read some comments from two anons, who were talking about this same subject: "Fuck me, I just want everyone to be happy." "Sometimes we have to do what makes US happy."
And that's true. Sometimes you have to put yourself first. Especially if having kept your desires buried for so long has made you feel unworthy of having them.
Don't spend your life being miserable. Spend your life being happy--by being you.
Monday, March 16, 2009
Break a Leg
When I was in high school and college, I was part of the choir and drama departments. I tried out for choir in--I think--11th grade. The choir teacher told me I had a good voice, but I needed to strengthen it, so she put me in the chorus instead. Well, come to find out, my schedule was screwed up, and I landed in both chorus and choir, back-to-back second and third periods.
Being in choir strengthened my voice ten times over, more so than chorus ever did. Chorus was kind of that elective that people take because it's easy, you can pass without making too much effort. But choir, that was different. The "hardcore" singers, the ones that were there to sing and perform because they wanted to, were the ones in choir.
During 12th grade, we put on what we named "A Broadway Review" (how original, hunh?). We performed as a group several times, and some of us performed solo too. I sang a song called "Nothing", from "A Chorus Line". I think that was my first time singing (out loud) in front of anybody. Strangely enough, it didn't scare me particularly. Maybe because I could only see the first two rows of the audience during both performances!
It was some of the most fun I had in my entire school career.
And drama! Oh, man, did I love drama class! A place where you could be someone else for a while. A place that encouraged you to emote with the best of them. A place that brought together all the different "groups" of students and taught us how to be one entity: actors, if you will.
We put on skits in class for each other and for the teacher; we'd go out in the hall and practice lines, drawing stares from the ones who weren't "drama kids"; we put on full-fledged plays for the school and community. We had a fucking blast.
I mostly played character roles because of my affinity for accents. Plus, my, um, weird sense of humor was starting to show itself. So I won a role where I played a Swedish maid--oh my cow, it was great fun! I could pretty much let loose and be as overdramatic as I wanted, the teacher loved it. (So did our audiences, thankfully, and bless them all the more for it.)
When I got to college, it was just natural for me to enroll in the drama department there. It turned out to be a combination of both drama and choir, my little heart was in Paradise. We put on a musical in my freshman year: "Fiddler On the Roof", which I now loathe and despise since we watched the bloody film about 2 dozen times in class and then performed five times in a row over a weekend. Lucky me (read that with sarcasm), I had two roles, one of the villagers, and, as I fondly called her, Dead Grandma Tzeitl (spelling? who knows). She appeared to Tevye, the main character, in a dream. Of course there had to be a darkened stage, dry ice, and glow-in-the-dark makeup for yours truly. And, my costume was a nightgown. And, I used an appropriately ethnic accent, if you catch my drift.
I had to make five costume and makeup changes during each of the five shows. The skin on my face did not enjoy this.
But the rest of me did! I miss those times, the feeling of belonging to something, somewhere. The rehearsals, the performances, the people I worked with, the audiences. The satisfaction of entertaining a few people for a few hours with nothing more than words and music.
Pretty heady stuff. Makes you feel...
...like you matter.
Being in choir strengthened my voice ten times over, more so than chorus ever did. Chorus was kind of that elective that people take because it's easy, you can pass without making too much effort. But choir, that was different. The "hardcore" singers, the ones that were there to sing and perform because they wanted to, were the ones in choir.
During 12th grade, we put on what we named "A Broadway Review" (how original, hunh?). We performed as a group several times, and some of us performed solo too. I sang a song called "Nothing", from "A Chorus Line". I think that was my first time singing (out loud) in front of anybody. Strangely enough, it didn't scare me particularly. Maybe because I could only see the first two rows of the audience during both performances!
It was some of the most fun I had in my entire school career.
And drama! Oh, man, did I love drama class! A place where you could be someone else for a while. A place that encouraged you to emote with the best of them. A place that brought together all the different "groups" of students and taught us how to be one entity: actors, if you will.
We put on skits in class for each other and for the teacher; we'd go out in the hall and practice lines, drawing stares from the ones who weren't "drama kids"; we put on full-fledged plays for the school and community. We had a fucking blast.
I mostly played character roles because of my affinity for accents. Plus, my, um, weird sense of humor was starting to show itself. So I won a role where I played a Swedish maid--oh my cow, it was great fun! I could pretty much let loose and be as overdramatic as I wanted, the teacher loved it. (So did our audiences, thankfully, and bless them all the more for it.)
When I got to college, it was just natural for me to enroll in the drama department there. It turned out to be a combination of both drama and choir, my little heart was in Paradise. We put on a musical in my freshman year: "Fiddler On the Roof", which I now loathe and despise since we watched the bloody film about 2 dozen times in class and then performed five times in a row over a weekend. Lucky me (read that with sarcasm), I had two roles, one of the villagers, and, as I fondly called her, Dead Grandma Tzeitl (spelling? who knows). She appeared to Tevye, the main character, in a dream. Of course there had to be a darkened stage, dry ice, and glow-in-the-dark makeup for yours truly. And, my costume was a nightgown. And, I used an appropriately ethnic accent, if you catch my drift.
I had to make five costume and makeup changes during each of the five shows. The skin on my face did not enjoy this.
But the rest of me did! I miss those times, the feeling of belonging to something, somewhere. The rehearsals, the performances, the people I worked with, the audiences. The satisfaction of entertaining a few people for a few hours with nothing more than words and music.
Pretty heady stuff. Makes you feel...
...like you matter.
Saturday, March 7, 2009
You're Gonna Get What's Coming
The title of this post, pilfered from Robert Palmer's song of the same name, doesn't suggest that I plan to take vengeance on anyone for anything. Far from it. It's a...shall we say, heads-up to the horrid anons that oozed into Mayo's last night.
In case you missed it, let me recap. Someone came on and started throwing insults around. Amyranth tried her best to get them to stop, it being the day after a loss in the Family. The anons promptly turned around and attacked her, saying she was using her "friend's grief for (your) own agenda".
Then it got worse.
Reading that putrid load of spew last night embarrassed me. You know why? Because those "people" who wrote it claim to be human beings. If that's what human beings really are, I don't want to be one. Anons have brought a lot of ugly stuff to Mayo's over the past year and a half, but I have to say, last night's shit-fest angered me more than anything else so far.
Here in the South, at least, we have something we call "respect for the dead". It doesn't take a lot to give it, and one is noticed much more quickly when he/she doesn't show it than when he/she does. This goes for everyone, even the people you would rather see the back of than deign to acknowledge in public. It's common courtesy, and respectful, to put away your anger and bad feelings for, say, a family member of the deceased, even if it's just for an hour. If you were raised properly, cruel anons, you'd know that. Obviously you've never lost a parent, a sibling, an aunt or uncle, a grandparent, or even a close friend. When you do, I sincerely hope no one gives you the treatment you gave Anima last night. If anyone does, though, remember what you said about someone who was grieving and in pain, and think about how it makes you feel.
Pretty fucking horrible?
Or do you have any feelings at all?
My money's on "no".
This post could be called "Karma".
You're gonna get what's coming
You been asking for it two days' running
You're gonna get what's coming
You're gonna get what's coming to you
In case you missed it, let me recap. Someone came on and started throwing insults around. Amyranth tried her best to get them to stop, it being the day after a loss in the Family. The anons promptly turned around and attacked her, saying she was using her "friend's grief for (your) own agenda".
Then it got worse.
Reading that putrid load of spew last night embarrassed me. You know why? Because those "people" who wrote it claim to be human beings. If that's what human beings really are, I don't want to be one. Anons have brought a lot of ugly stuff to Mayo's over the past year and a half, but I have to say, last night's shit-fest angered me more than anything else so far.
Here in the South, at least, we have something we call "respect for the dead". It doesn't take a lot to give it, and one is noticed much more quickly when he/she doesn't show it than when he/she does. This goes for everyone, even the people you would rather see the back of than deign to acknowledge in public. It's common courtesy, and respectful, to put away your anger and bad feelings for, say, a family member of the deceased, even if it's just for an hour. If you were raised properly, cruel anons, you'd know that. Obviously you've never lost a parent, a sibling, an aunt or uncle, a grandparent, or even a close friend. When you do, I sincerely hope no one gives you the treatment you gave Anima last night. If anyone does, though, remember what you said about someone who was grieving and in pain, and think about how it makes you feel.
Pretty fucking horrible?
Or do you have any feelings at all?
My money's on "no".
This post could be called "Karma".
You're gonna get what's coming
You been asking for it two days' running
You're gonna get what's coming
You're gonna get what's coming to you
Monday, March 2, 2009
I Will
Who knows how long I've loved you
You know I love you still
Will I wait a lonely lifetime
If you want me to, I will
For if I ever saw you
I didn't catch your name
But it never really mattered
I will always feel the same
Love you forever and forever
Love you with all my heart
Love you whenever we're together
Love you when we're apart
And when at last I find you
Your song will fill the air
Sing it loud so I can hear you
Make it easy to be near you
For the things you do endear you to me
Oh, you know I will
I will
You know I love you still
Will I wait a lonely lifetime
If you want me to, I will
For if I ever saw you
I didn't catch your name
But it never really mattered
I will always feel the same
Love you forever and forever
Love you with all my heart
Love you whenever we're together
Love you when we're apart
And when at last I find you
Your song will fill the air
Sing it loud so I can hear you
Make it easy to be near you
For the things you do endear you to me
Oh, you know I will
I will
Sunday, February 8, 2009
Stand and Deliver
As you may have guessed from the last post, I like "Desolation Row". I like the music, I like the video. I particularly like the band that's covered it.
*waits for annoying echoes of "FANGIRL!" to die down*
Now, are all the adults still here? Good, let's continue.
To my knowledge, there has been more than one "entertainment artist" over the last one hundred years who was disliked for their performances, their personal views, their use of words, etc. My Chemical Romance is NOT the first band to do something that somebody didn't like. And they're not going to be the last, either. I hope they're not, anyway. Because if there's someone out there pissing people off because of any of the above reasons, then by shit that's what makes them good. Audiences pay attention to those who make a statement.
Remember Elvis Presley? Pissed folks off cause he swiveled his hips. Remember the Beatles? Pissed folks off cause they had long hair, AND they wrote great songs. Remember Led Zeppelin? Pissed folks off cause they made even singing the grocery list sound sexy. Let's go on with Janis Joplin, Jimi Hendrix, Timothy Leary, Hunter S. Thompson, the Clash, Monty Python, Richard Pryor, Jesse Jackson, David Bowie, Iggy Pop, Ozzy Osbourne, Judas Priest, Prince, Bill Hicks, Stephen King, J.D. Salinger...
U2...
The Sex Pistols...
Martin Luther King Jr.
My point here is, you WANT your audience to talk about you. That means you've made an impression. The ones who DON'T make an impression fade away in the shadows. Anybody remember Glass Tiger? Exactly. And who'll recall High School Musical #93? Um, yeah.
BUT. The thing that bothers me is that too many focus on the bad behavior, the bad publicity, and deem the artist nothing but vile, foul agents of disaster. Take MCR, for example. Yes, they're role models. Yes, they're responsible for what they say. NO, they are NOT responsible for making every one of us happy 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. They are men. They are musicians. They are human beings. That means they make mistakes, they say the wrong things, they do some weird shit sometimes. WE ALL DO. I think the reason some put them through the wringer when they fuck up is because those people have expected much more from the band than just great music and a great concert. The guys were elevated to "idol" status by those people, and are now being crucified for being human.
Get over it, kids.
I'm going to support Frank, Gerard, Bob, Ray, and Mikey (and James and Matt as well) because they're fine musicians, hugely talented men, and just plain old good guys.
The rest of you who believe they're the spawn of Satan?
All I'm gonna say is, you're missing a Hell of a talent.
*waits for annoying echoes of "FANGIRL!" to die down*
Now, are all the adults still here? Good, let's continue.
To my knowledge, there has been more than one "entertainment artist" over the last one hundred years who was disliked for their performances, their personal views, their use of words, etc. My Chemical Romance is NOT the first band to do something that somebody didn't like. And they're not going to be the last, either. I hope they're not, anyway. Because if there's someone out there pissing people off because of any of the above reasons, then by shit that's what makes them good. Audiences pay attention to those who make a statement.
Remember Elvis Presley? Pissed folks off cause he swiveled his hips. Remember the Beatles? Pissed folks off cause they had long hair, AND they wrote great songs. Remember Led Zeppelin? Pissed folks off cause they made even singing the grocery list sound sexy. Let's go on with Janis Joplin, Jimi Hendrix, Timothy Leary, Hunter S. Thompson, the Clash, Monty Python, Richard Pryor, Jesse Jackson, David Bowie, Iggy Pop, Ozzy Osbourne, Judas Priest, Prince, Bill Hicks, Stephen King, J.D. Salinger...
U2...
The Sex Pistols...
Martin Luther King Jr.
My point here is, you WANT your audience to talk about you. That means you've made an impression. The ones who DON'T make an impression fade away in the shadows. Anybody remember Glass Tiger? Exactly. And who'll recall High School Musical #93? Um, yeah.
BUT. The thing that bothers me is that too many focus on the bad behavior, the bad publicity, and deem the artist nothing but vile, foul agents of disaster. Take MCR, for example. Yes, they're role models. Yes, they're responsible for what they say. NO, they are NOT responsible for making every one of us happy 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. They are men. They are musicians. They are human beings. That means they make mistakes, they say the wrong things, they do some weird shit sometimes. WE ALL DO. I think the reason some put them through the wringer when they fuck up is because those people have expected much more from the band than just great music and a great concert. The guys were elevated to "idol" status by those people, and are now being crucified for being human.
Get over it, kids.
I'm going to support Frank, Gerard, Bob, Ray, and Mikey (and James and Matt as well) because they're fine musicians, hugely talented men, and just plain old good guys.
The rest of you who believe they're the spawn of Satan?
All I'm gonna say is, you're missing a Hell of a talent.
Saturday, January 31, 2009
Desolation Row 2009
New video.
New version of an old song.
Motherfuckin' PUNK.
YEAH!
Or should I say:
OI!
Love it, love it, love it.
Sid would be proud.
New version of an old song.
Motherfuckin' PUNK.
YEAH!
Or should I say:
OI!
Love it, love it, love it.
Sid would be proud.
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Late-Night Letter to My Friend
Dear SS,
Firstly, thank you so very much, you know for what. You mean the world to me. *hugs and kisses*
Secondly, I Hope you're well and taking time for yourself. What book are you into right now? I'm reading a 'guilty pleasure', James Patterson's Lifeguard. For me, Patterson's like mental sherbet: a good read that isn't too complicated and clears my mind in between more involved novels. *laughs quietly* Hell, you're probably thinking to yourself, "James who?" while marking your place in the volume of Kierkegaard you're reading. (I'll take you to a bookstore sometime and show you his stuff.)
Thirdly, I want you to know that I'm alright. There's just a lot of major concerns going through my world right now. Please don't think I've left for good, I haven't. Granted I spend more time here than 'there' lately, but I do still read it every day. It's kinda like crack, you know it's bad for you but you just can't give it up. ;)
Well, baby, it's late and I'm sleepy, so I'll tell you goodnight for now. I Love You, remember that. Beyond the stars lies the great Unknown...maybe, if we look closely enough, we'll find it.
My heart to yours, always.
J
Firstly, thank you so very much, you know for what. You mean the world to me. *hugs and kisses*
Secondly, I Hope you're well and taking time for yourself. What book are you into right now? I'm reading a 'guilty pleasure', James Patterson's Lifeguard. For me, Patterson's like mental sherbet: a good read that isn't too complicated and clears my mind in between more involved novels. *laughs quietly* Hell, you're probably thinking to yourself, "James who?" while marking your place in the volume of Kierkegaard you're reading. (I'll take you to a bookstore sometime and show you his stuff.)
Thirdly, I want you to know that I'm alright. There's just a lot of major concerns going through my world right now. Please don't think I've left for good, I haven't. Granted I spend more time here than 'there' lately, but I do still read it every day. It's kinda like crack, you know it's bad for you but you just can't give it up. ;)
Well, baby, it's late and I'm sleepy, so I'll tell you goodnight for now. I Love You, remember that. Beyond the stars lies the great Unknown...maybe, if we look closely enough, we'll find it.
My heart to yours, always.
J
Monday, January 12, 2009
The House of the Rising Bun
We've been talking about pets tonight, L's various ones and my two. There's been some of the most hilarious instances involving one or more of them over the years. Of course, there's also been a fair share of unhappy, even heartbreaking, moments. We try not to dwell on those if we can. Luckily, the funny times far outweigh the sad ones.
I never thought cats and rabbits were compatible housemates. Boy, was I wrong: I feel at times like they're plotting together to take over the apartment. Dumplin, my older cat, is 11 and a half; he's the sleek black Bombay in our Photobucket pics. He is absolutely the smartest animal I've ever met. PinklePurr (or Pinkle, or Pinks for short) is L's older bunny; he's almost 9, and is an albino New Zealand. He is easily as smart as Dumplin, just as sneaky too. Then there's Raindrop (Rain for short, or Rainybow, or Rainman--which should tell you something...); he's my almost-9-year-old grey tabby Manx perpetual kitten. (Comes from running full tilt, headfirst, into the base of the couch over and over when he was only a few months old.) Last but not least is Logan, Diva Bunny Extraordinaire. He's either 6 or 7, don't remember (he was 2 when she got him either 4 or 5 years ago), is a silvery-grey Netherland Dwarf, and is what you might call...temperamental. O_o
Dumplin's 'signature encounter' with a rabbit came several years ago, when we lived in Atlanta. L had gotten a female bunny not long after we moved there, a beautiful black-and-white lop she named Powderpuff, Powder for short. (She was the only female animal Dumplin has spent any amount of time around; all our current ones are male.) One night L and Powder came to visit me and Dumplin (this was before Rain). The two animals were playing Chase Me around the living room. Now, keep in mind that Dumplin's always been kinda high-strung, kinda jumpy. Well, he was sitting in front of the TV, grooming his chest; Powder was halfway across the room, hiding behind a piece of cat furniture. We saw her crouch low to the carpet, wiggle her booty, and start running toward Dumplin like mad. He didn't see her until she launched herself at him, airborne for a few seconds. His eyes widened in surprise right before she hit him full in the chest. They went rolling head over heels across the room, probably four or five times. Dumplin pulled free first, looking at Powder over his shoulder at her like "FUCKIN HELL!" Powder stood there looking back like, "Yeah, you BETTER run!"
Dumplin has never interacted with rabbits the same way again.
Next time, a Pinkle story to (maybe) entertain you. :)
I never thought cats and rabbits were compatible housemates. Boy, was I wrong: I feel at times like they're plotting together to take over the apartment. Dumplin, my older cat, is 11 and a half; he's the sleek black Bombay in our Photobucket pics. He is absolutely the smartest animal I've ever met. PinklePurr (or Pinkle, or Pinks for short) is L's older bunny; he's almost 9, and is an albino New Zealand. He is easily as smart as Dumplin, just as sneaky too. Then there's Raindrop (Rain for short, or Rainybow, or Rainman--which should tell you something...); he's my almost-9-year-old grey tabby Manx perpetual kitten. (Comes from running full tilt, headfirst, into the base of the couch over and over when he was only a few months old.) Last but not least is Logan, Diva Bunny Extraordinaire. He's either 6 or 7, don't remember (he was 2 when she got him either 4 or 5 years ago), is a silvery-grey Netherland Dwarf, and is what you might call...temperamental. O_o
Dumplin's 'signature encounter' with a rabbit came several years ago, when we lived in Atlanta. L had gotten a female bunny not long after we moved there, a beautiful black-and-white lop she named Powderpuff, Powder for short. (She was the only female animal Dumplin has spent any amount of time around; all our current ones are male.) One night L and Powder came to visit me and Dumplin (this was before Rain). The two animals were playing Chase Me around the living room. Now, keep in mind that Dumplin's always been kinda high-strung, kinda jumpy. Well, he was sitting in front of the TV, grooming his chest; Powder was halfway across the room, hiding behind a piece of cat furniture. We saw her crouch low to the carpet, wiggle her booty, and start running toward Dumplin like mad. He didn't see her until she launched herself at him, airborne for a few seconds. His eyes widened in surprise right before she hit him full in the chest. They went rolling head over heels across the room, probably four or five times. Dumplin pulled free first, looking at Powder over his shoulder at her like "FUCKIN HELL!" Powder stood there looking back like, "Yeah, you BETTER run!"
Dumplin has never interacted with rabbits the same way again.
Next time, a Pinkle story to (maybe) entertain you. :)
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