i don't even LIKE olives.
and second of all... i've never even HAD a martini.
so in conclusion, mr. bond... your efforts to seduce me are all in vein.
Wednesday, March 31, 2004
Sunday, March 28, 2004
touche
l2icochet: hows yer mum?
AmngStarz: alive
l2icochet: thats a start
AmngStarz: she's getting a little bored i think
l2icochet: of course
l2icochet: what about you?
l2icochet: how are you holding up?
l2icochet: it really gets to me when i read your posts and don't have any comments to leave
AmngStarz: im here
AmngStarz: i dont really know to be honest
AmngStarz: i think i would be depressed if i werent so damn sick of being depressed
l2icochet: you don't sound too optimistic
l2icochet: i know what you mean
AmngStarz: i was kinda bummed when i opened my page tonight and there were no comments on like the last five fucking posts
AmngStarz: i was looking forward to interaction
l2icochet: sometimes you just dont open yourself up for them
l2icochet: i mean
l2icochet: i dont know how to explain it
l2icochet: like you just are too damn good at overanylizing that there's nothing left to be said
l2icochet: kinda
AmngStarz: lol
AmngStarz: i guess i just need to suck it up
AmngStarz: i care too much i think
l2icochet: but you can't really do that
l2icochet: that's like pigeon holing yourself
l2icochet: kinda
l2icochet: you do care too much
l2icochet: too much to give up
l2icochet: which is why you haven't yet
l2icochet: you're just frustrated
l2icochet: methinks
l2icochet: of course
l2icochet: but i'm not the one with the degree in this crap :-P
AmngStarz: just cause you are supposed to know about it its still ahrd to deal with
l2icochet: oh i know
AmngStarz: i cannot speak english
AmngStarz: ugh
l2icochet: knowing that it's the right thing to do or the right way to feel doesn't make it any easier to do or feel it
AmngStarz: yeah
l2icochet: i'm battling with a crappy wireless keyboard :-P
l2icochet: and you know how hard it is for me to just let a sentance with grammatical errors and typo's go
AmngStarz: yes yes
AmngStarz: i thought of you after i wrote that sentance about love poems and grammar checks
l2icochet: lol
l2icochet: i was wondering if i was making a cameo
AmngStarz: naw
AmngStarz: that whole italic part was fiction
AmngStarz: dunno where the hell it came from
AmngStarz: i really like that post though
l2icochet: i have to say liz, that i love our relationship
l2icochet: it kinda just struck me
AmngStarz: ......?
l2icochet: that even though we put ourselves through some awkward stuff
l2icochet: we're still really close and understanding
l2icochet: i've had too many people just turn around and walk away when one aspect of our relationship changed
AmngStarz: yep
l2icochet: ie: break up so therefore never speak again
AmngStarz: its lame
l2icochet: and i really respect you for it
l2icochet: :-)
AmngStarz: y
AmngStarz: dont
AmngStarz: i just hope it helps you spot the shallow retards sooner now
l2icochet: just because it's mature, proper, and the "right" thing to do doesn't negate its commendability
AmngStarz: hehe
AmngStarz: how do you spell touche
l2icochet: touché
AmngStarz: i win
l2icochet: hmm?
AmngStarz: i spelled it right
l2icochet: well
l2icochet: you missed the accent
l2icochet: :-P
AmngStarz: shuttup
AmngStarz: alive
l2icochet: thats a start
AmngStarz: she's getting a little bored i think
l2icochet: of course
l2icochet: what about you?
l2icochet: how are you holding up?
l2icochet: it really gets to me when i read your posts and don't have any comments to leave
AmngStarz: im here
AmngStarz: i dont really know to be honest
AmngStarz: i think i would be depressed if i werent so damn sick of being depressed
l2icochet: you don't sound too optimistic
l2icochet: i know what you mean
AmngStarz: i was kinda bummed when i opened my page tonight and there were no comments on like the last five fucking posts
AmngStarz: i was looking forward to interaction
l2icochet: sometimes you just dont open yourself up for them
l2icochet: i mean
l2icochet: i dont know how to explain it
l2icochet: like you just are too damn good at overanylizing that there's nothing left to be said
l2icochet: kinda
AmngStarz: lol
AmngStarz: i guess i just need to suck it up
AmngStarz: i care too much i think
l2icochet: but you can't really do that
l2icochet: that's like pigeon holing yourself
l2icochet: kinda
l2icochet: you do care too much
l2icochet: too much to give up
l2icochet: which is why you haven't yet
l2icochet: you're just frustrated
l2icochet: methinks
l2icochet: of course
l2icochet: but i'm not the one with the degree in this crap :-P
AmngStarz: just cause you are supposed to know about it its still ahrd to deal with
l2icochet: oh i know
AmngStarz: i cannot speak english
AmngStarz: ugh
l2icochet: knowing that it's the right thing to do or the right way to feel doesn't make it any easier to do or feel it
AmngStarz: yeah
l2icochet: i'm battling with a crappy wireless keyboard :-P
l2icochet: and you know how hard it is for me to just let a sentance with grammatical errors and typo's go
AmngStarz: yes yes
AmngStarz: i thought of you after i wrote that sentance about love poems and grammar checks
l2icochet: lol
l2icochet: i was wondering if i was making a cameo
AmngStarz: naw
AmngStarz: that whole italic part was fiction
AmngStarz: dunno where the hell it came from
AmngStarz: i really like that post though
l2icochet: i have to say liz, that i love our relationship
l2icochet: it kinda just struck me
AmngStarz: ......?
l2icochet: that even though we put ourselves through some awkward stuff
l2icochet: we're still really close and understanding
l2icochet: i've had too many people just turn around and walk away when one aspect of our relationship changed
AmngStarz: yep
l2icochet: ie: break up so therefore never speak again
AmngStarz: its lame
l2icochet: and i really respect you for it
l2icochet: :-)
AmngStarz: y
AmngStarz: dont
AmngStarz: i just hope it helps you spot the shallow retards sooner now
l2icochet: just because it's mature, proper, and the "right" thing to do doesn't negate its commendability
AmngStarz: hehe
AmngStarz: how do you spell touche
l2icochet: touché
AmngStarz: i win
l2icochet: hmm?
AmngStarz: i spelled it right
l2icochet: well
l2icochet: you missed the accent
l2icochet: :-P
AmngStarz: shuttup
Saturday, March 27, 2004
i can't stand it when people complain of being bored.
boredom is simply a lack of imagination. laziness.
but man, was i lacking today. when i get like this i try to avoid as much social interaction as possible... but i usually end up babbling some melancholy post on this page.
gray, cold and sterile. the room was even apathetic. we sat, staring at anything but each other. he chose the inside of his eyelids, while i concentrated on a seam where the sailboats on the wallpaper didn't quite match up.
i wanted to leave, but was afraid that he would hold it against me later on.
the day started off for me at 3am. to the sound of my mother's voice sounding an awful lot like mine did whenever i called her into my room for comforting in the middle of the night. being that i went to sleep around 1:30... i was right smack in the middle of my first rem cycle.
i remember the sounds he used to make unconsciously while he was painting. and his tongue- it was always moving. painfully obvious that he was more intensely involved with making art than he was making love.
i used to try and mimic the sounds during our intimate sessions to try and draw something from him. deep down, though... i knew that he had no idea.
thrown completely off guard, i sat up straight in my bed and then proceeded to fall flat on my face when i tried to get up. the noise woke up my grandmother, sending her into a liz calling contest with my mom.
i decided to go with nonnie first. being 93 and dangerously close to having strokes and panic attacks in the double digits slightly increases the risk factor. i explained that i fell, but that i was ok. she then commanded me to feed the cat and fill up the bird feeder.
stealthily slipping out of the room, i chuckled guiltily under my breath.
he bought me flowers. i wrote him poetry.
i hung them all upside down from the ceiling... creating a garden- dried out and falling from the sky of my bedroom. he checked it for grammatical errors.
the door cracked open and i stood staring at my mother, equipped with a devilish smile and bright red shiny spot on my forehead. i had forgotten about rug burn and how sexy it made me feel.
she was clearly not entertained, accusing me of laughing at her. i laid down on my father's side of the bed and ran my fingers through her sweaty hair. i found myself wondering if he had ever found himself in a similar situation, and growing sad with the realization that the chances of that were slim.
we got up and headed for the bathroom. i noticed a yellow stain on her nightgown where her incision was breathing deeply underneath. decided it would be better to wait until i was better oriented to try and tackle rebandaging.
the minutes were longer than usual. like they were almost savoring the draining effects father time was having over our hearts. he opened his eyes. bloodshot. tired.
empty.
he still wasn't looking at me. and just to prove that to himself, he pulled his hands up to his face and let them linger too long to be casual.
i drifted back to sleep slowly. finally listening to the sounds of the snores coming from their beds. 8am came way too quickly, though... and i found myself have a moment of dejavu at the sound of my mother's voice again.
but this time it was in the form of a question.
i wanted to pretend to still be asleep. so badly. because even though my body got up and continued throughout the day... i still was. i still am.
he saved me the trouble. i stood up to stretch my legs. walked towards the window. prepared myself to begin a conversation that niether of us wanted to have.
but i turned around... only to see the door closing behind him.
good night.
but man, was i lacking today. when i get like this i try to avoid as much social interaction as possible... but i usually end up babbling some melancholy post on this page.
gray, cold and sterile. the room was even apathetic. we sat, staring at anything but each other. he chose the inside of his eyelids, while i concentrated on a seam where the sailboats on the wallpaper didn't quite match up.
i wanted to leave, but was afraid that he would hold it against me later on.
the day started off for me at 3am. to the sound of my mother's voice sounding an awful lot like mine did whenever i called her into my room for comforting in the middle of the night. being that i went to sleep around 1:30... i was right smack in the middle of my first rem cycle.
i remember the sounds he used to make unconsciously while he was painting. and his tongue- it was always moving. painfully obvious that he was more intensely involved with making art than he was making love.
i used to try and mimic the sounds during our intimate sessions to try and draw something from him. deep down, though... i knew that he had no idea.
thrown completely off guard, i sat up straight in my bed and then proceeded to fall flat on my face when i tried to get up. the noise woke up my grandmother, sending her into a liz calling contest with my mom.
i decided to go with nonnie first. being 93 and dangerously close to having strokes and panic attacks in the double digits slightly increases the risk factor. i explained that i fell, but that i was ok. she then commanded me to feed the cat and fill up the bird feeder.
stealthily slipping out of the room, i chuckled guiltily under my breath.
he bought me flowers. i wrote him poetry.
i hung them all upside down from the ceiling... creating a garden- dried out and falling from the sky of my bedroom. he checked it for grammatical errors.
the door cracked open and i stood staring at my mother, equipped with a devilish smile and bright red shiny spot on my forehead. i had forgotten about rug burn and how sexy it made me feel.
she was clearly not entertained, accusing me of laughing at her. i laid down on my father's side of the bed and ran my fingers through her sweaty hair. i found myself wondering if he had ever found himself in a similar situation, and growing sad with the realization that the chances of that were slim.
we got up and headed for the bathroom. i noticed a yellow stain on her nightgown where her incision was breathing deeply underneath. decided it would be better to wait until i was better oriented to try and tackle rebandaging.
the minutes were longer than usual. like they were almost savoring the draining effects father time was having over our hearts. he opened his eyes. bloodshot. tired.
empty.
he still wasn't looking at me. and just to prove that to himself, he pulled his hands up to his face and let them linger too long to be casual.
i drifted back to sleep slowly. finally listening to the sounds of the snores coming from their beds. 8am came way too quickly, though... and i found myself have a moment of dejavu at the sound of my mother's voice again.
but this time it was in the form of a question.
i wanted to pretend to still be asleep. so badly. because even though my body got up and continued throughout the day... i still was. i still am.
he saved me the trouble. i stood up to stretch my legs. walked towards the window. prepared myself to begin a conversation that niether of us wanted to have.
but i turned around... only to see the door closing behind him.
good night.
Friday, March 26, 2004
plug plug plug!
ok. so i'm going to venture out a bit. i hope you all want to come with.
there is this new self-publishing website called poplish. i think it's rad... and they have this free registration offer going on now. there are 13 spots left to get a $1 bonus to start poking around.
i put up 3 poems (one of which you all already have access to). i plan on adding a lot more if i get some positive response from this. i hope you all will check it out... not only for my own selfish purposes... but because i think it would be good for you fellow writers trying to get an edge.
there is this new self-publishing website called poplish. i think it's rad... and they have this free registration offer going on now. there are 13 spots left to get a $1 bonus to start poking around.
i put up 3 poems (one of which you all already have access to). i plan on adding a lot more if i get some positive response from this. i hope you all will check it out... not only for my own selfish purposes... but because i think it would be good for you fellow writers trying to get an edge.
rings around fingers around his neck
charcoal asphalt
launches street smart
astronauts
into the space
you leave
after each time
you breathe
and when this cold air
meets such warm breath
left lane lovers
beckon bold, bruised brothers
the scent of our sex
is way better than new car smell
and i breathe it in deep
although toasty warm
i start to crumble...
launches street smart
astronauts
into the space
you leave
after each time
you breathe
and when this cold air
meets such warm breath
left lane lovers
beckon bold, bruised brothers
the scent of our sex
is way better than new car smell
and i breathe it in deep
although toasty warm
i start to crumble...
so umn, do you remember that book club thing?
well, i do.
The test run for this idea will be taking place next sunday, April 4th. I just wanted to give you all around a week's notice to finish (or go out and GET the damn thing) and start thinking about things.
I plan on using AIM for the chat from 6-8pm, and I'd like to know who is planning on being there for the discussion.
If anyone has already finished the book and wants to contribute a piece of writing (a review, specific response to a certain part, or even something inspired by the book)... get on that, please.
Hopefully you all weren't full of crap when you expressed your interest. I am uber excited about this book. I'm about 3/4 of the way through and already am bursting to talk about it.
So yeah. Werd'em up.
The test run for this idea will be taking place next sunday, April 4th. I just wanted to give you all around a week's notice to finish (or go out and GET the damn thing) and start thinking about things.
I plan on using AIM for the chat from 6-8pm, and I'd like to know who is planning on being there for the discussion.
If anyone has already finished the book and wants to contribute a piece of writing (a review, specific response to a certain part, or even something inspired by the book)... get on that, please.
Hopefully you all weren't full of crap when you expressed your interest. I am uber excited about this book. I'm about 3/4 of the way through and already am bursting to talk about it.
So yeah. Werd'em up.
Wednesday, March 24, 2004
mommi update
you all are wonderful. thank you for the comments, the thoughts, the prayers, the emails, the text messages, the phone calls... everything.
surgery went well. mom was in good spirits last night. i've been practically living there with her the last two days and plan on continuing that until she gets discharged. thursday might be the day. if her physical therapy goes well and she can manage stairs she'll come home this week... but if not she'll stay in the hospital for a bit to start rehab.
things are looking good... she's off the morphine now, she's sitting up for a few hours at a time, she's taking a few steps... right along on schedule.
it's been a damn good experience so far. her room is wonderful and FULL of flowers from various friends and family. makes me happy to know that my mom has just as many great people in her life as i do.
the downside, of course, is the uncomfortable chairs, the sterile smell of the hospital, and seeing my mom all tubed up and stuck all over with needles. and i don't like seeing my mom out of it and scared and the like. she's always been a rock... especially for me... so i guess it's just time for me to return the favor.
pain is a part of this. and i'm really trying to appreciate it.
i'll keep you all posted.
surgery went well. mom was in good spirits last night. i've been practically living there with her the last two days and plan on continuing that until she gets discharged. thursday might be the day. if her physical therapy goes well and she can manage stairs she'll come home this week... but if not she'll stay in the hospital for a bit to start rehab.
things are looking good... she's off the morphine now, she's sitting up for a few hours at a time, she's taking a few steps... right along on schedule.
it's been a damn good experience so far. her room is wonderful and FULL of flowers from various friends and family. makes me happy to know that my mom has just as many great people in her life as i do.
the downside, of course, is the uncomfortable chairs, the sterile smell of the hospital, and seeing my mom all tubed up and stuck all over with needles. and i don't like seeing my mom out of it and scared and the like. she's always been a rock... especially for me... so i guess it's just time for me to return the favor.
pain is a part of this. and i'm really trying to appreciate it.
i'll keep you all posted.
Monday, March 22, 2004
ok so maybe that karma bitch isn't as bad as i thought. relatively speaking, of course.
when you left you stole one of my clover's leaves.
i guess you wanted to take my good luck with you.
what was four is now only three.
but i'm ok with that i think.
because if good luck brings me things like you...
i'd rather just believe in karma.
i guess you wanted to take my good luck with you.
what was four is now only three.
but i'm ok with that i think.
because if good luck brings me things like you...
i'd rather just believe in karma.
not much to say this mornin ...
sorry i have been MIA all weekend, but i'm back home in G'burg. Mom's surgery is in about 3 hours, so we off to the hospital.
considering the amount of waiting around i'll be doing today... i should have something of substance written for you all tonight.
this stuff is way harder than they make it look in made for tv lifetime movies.
considering the amount of waiting around i'll be doing today... i should have something of substance written for you all tonight.
this stuff is way harder than they make it look in made for tv lifetime movies.
Thursday, March 18, 2004
First and foremost: ask rogan has been updated, and my latest column is up over at yourcollegelife.
...
Now. About last night.
Who knows where to begin. The shopping with my roommate, Lori? The haircut scare? (Don't worry everyone... I made it through with only and inch and a half trim!!) The last minute addition to our group, Rick? The snow falling as we waited in line to get into the pub? The boy with green eyes who tried to help us get in faster? The glow from Allison and Matt that is nothing short of contagious? The ridiculously tasty chicken strips? The ugly guy all of us kissed to get beads? That short guy that punched Allison in the face? The fact that a third of the people there went to high school with me? The humorous trips to the bathroom? Me stealing the clover headband? The countless cigarettes I bummed from various fine young gentlemen throughout the evening? The Killian's? The Car Bomb? The Hardcore Cider? Lori making out with that guy who was "so not her type." Or maybe me making out with the one guy who didn't have to wait for me to approach him first? Yes. I think that would be a splendid place to begin.
It is sinful how good it feels to be the object of someone's attention. Well not just any someone. A someone who you'd love to talk to but fear rejection from. A someone you were making your way over to get a beer to just "accidentally" bump into. A someone who beat you to it.
His smile was so crooked. So off balanced and imperfect. So fucking delicious. He could dance. He wanted to dance. He held my hand. He let me spin him around. He introduced me to his friends (one of which was in my spanish class back in jr. high). He stumbled over his words. Said I made him nervous. Got mad at me for giving him shit over and over... especially since he was "trying so hard."
I told him to stop trying. And we said goodbye at least 20 times before he finally stopped kissing me.
Leaving out countless little details that I would rather keep for myself, in conclusion... I did not achieve either of my goals. I ended up driving (and getting my car locked in the garage over night... but we don't need to dwell on that part of the evening), so I couldn't get drunk. Five drinks and a car bomb later... I would have made my Irish ancestors proud.
And well... while I didn't go home with anyone (Lori and Rick don't count), I can't say that I didn't get a little play. And I had a moment of weakness when I called drum guy just to "say hello." Not looking forward to dealing with the "you totally left me a drunken message on my voicemail" conversation, but hey.
It was a damn good night. And I look damn good in green.
...
Now. About last night.
Who knows where to begin. The shopping with my roommate, Lori? The haircut scare? (Don't worry everyone... I made it through with only and inch and a half trim!!) The last minute addition to our group, Rick? The snow falling as we waited in line to get into the pub? The boy with green eyes who tried to help us get in faster? The glow from Allison and Matt that is nothing short of contagious? The ridiculously tasty chicken strips? The ugly guy all of us kissed to get beads? That short guy that punched Allison in the face? The fact that a third of the people there went to high school with me? The humorous trips to the bathroom? Me stealing the clover headband? The countless cigarettes I bummed from various fine young gentlemen throughout the evening? The Killian's? The Car Bomb? The Hardcore Cider? Lori making out with that guy who was "so not her type." Or maybe me making out with the one guy who didn't have to wait for me to approach him first? Yes. I think that would be a splendid place to begin.
It is sinful how good it feels to be the object of someone's attention. Well not just any someone. A someone who you'd love to talk to but fear rejection from. A someone you were making your way over to get a beer to just "accidentally" bump into. A someone who beat you to it.
His smile was so crooked. So off balanced and imperfect. So fucking delicious. He could dance. He wanted to dance. He held my hand. He let me spin him around. He introduced me to his friends (one of which was in my spanish class back in jr. high). He stumbled over his words. Said I made him nervous. Got mad at me for giving him shit over and over... especially since he was "trying so hard."
I told him to stop trying. And we said goodbye at least 20 times before he finally stopped kissing me.
Leaving out countless little details that I would rather keep for myself, in conclusion... I did not achieve either of my goals. I ended up driving (and getting my car locked in the garage over night... but we don't need to dwell on that part of the evening), so I couldn't get drunk. Five drinks and a car bomb later... I would have made my Irish ancestors proud.
And well... while I didn't go home with anyone (Lori and Rick don't count), I can't say that I didn't get a little play. And I had a moment of weakness when I called drum guy just to "say hello." Not looking forward to dealing with the "you totally left me a drunken message on my voicemail" conversation, but hey.
It was a damn good night. And I look damn good in green.
Monday, March 15, 2004
ah yes.
taking a note from ms. ophelia, i have been one ball of "fleeting kink" as of late. in attempts to put a stop to this, i intend to get way passed drunk on wednesday and NOT hook up with anyone.
it's good to have goals... they all tell me this.
it's good to have goals... they all tell me this.
Friday, March 12, 2004
I'll take the physical challenge, Mark ...
So I'm in the middle of a two year long project. I'd like to call it the "Porn Star Hair Project."
My hair is hands down, my favorite physical feature. It reflects so much of my personality it is unbelievable.
The most obvious reflection is in the color. It's "called" strawberry blonde, but let's be honest here- it's bright orange. I give new meaning to the terms carrot top and fiery redhead. The color is a rarity among a rarity, and when the sun hits it- you can't take your eyes off of it.
::strokes ego like a cat sitting in my lap::
But let's get passed the whole fire burning in my soul and coming out of the top of my head thing. Its volume, body and thickness are fucking amazing. I have absolutely no complaints. My hair only looks bad when I haven't washed it in three days and have kept it up in a greasy, messy ponytail. It shows my strength, natural style and intensity. Not to mention my versatility and adaptability.
I think my favorite thing about my hair though, is where I got it from in the first place. My daddi. His nickname was Sunny as a child and Rusty as an adult. Now it's Old Man With Snow on Head, but hey. He's got the same passion and vitality in his hair and in his life. I love that my hair is a symbol and almost a tribute to my connection with him. Not to mention the Irish blood.
So in honor of this gift I have received, I have tried to be good to my mane throughout my life. But now I'd like to take that a step further. I want hair half-way down my back, with it angled up to a few inches below my chin in the front so as to not drag down my face. And oh it gets better. Loose, hugungus curls. Like a porn star.
Now I'm about 3/5 of the way there, and it's time for a trim. But oh, I'm losing my focus. The nice, warm weather is back... and I am having fantasies about chopping it all off like one of my old summer cuts right below the chin.
I am SO CLOSE, people!! And if I wait until the spring of '05 to do the chop, I will definitely have enough hair to donate to locks of love. This SHOULD be enough motivation to keep me on track... but I am seriously considering asking someone to be my chaperone when I go to the cuttery, threatening me with the look of death if I waver from my 2 inch trim.
My hair is hands down, my favorite physical feature. It reflects so much of my personality it is unbelievable.
The most obvious reflection is in the color. It's "called" strawberry blonde, but let's be honest here- it's bright orange. I give new meaning to the terms carrot top and fiery redhead. The color is a rarity among a rarity, and when the sun hits it- you can't take your eyes off of it.
::strokes ego like a cat sitting in my lap::
But let's get passed the whole fire burning in my soul and coming out of the top of my head thing. Its volume, body and thickness are fucking amazing. I have absolutely no complaints. My hair only looks bad when I haven't washed it in three days and have kept it up in a greasy, messy ponytail. It shows my strength, natural style and intensity. Not to mention my versatility and adaptability.
I think my favorite thing about my hair though, is where I got it from in the first place. My daddi. His nickname was Sunny as a child and Rusty as an adult. Now it's Old Man With Snow on Head, but hey. He's got the same passion and vitality in his hair and in his life. I love that my hair is a symbol and almost a tribute to my connection with him. Not to mention the Irish blood.
So in honor of this gift I have received, I have tried to be good to my mane throughout my life. But now I'd like to take that a step further. I want hair half-way down my back, with it angled up to a few inches below my chin in the front so as to not drag down my face. And oh it gets better. Loose, hugungus curls. Like a porn star.
Now I'm about 3/5 of the way there, and it's time for a trim. But oh, I'm losing my focus. The nice, warm weather is back... and I am having fantasies about chopping it all off like one of my old summer cuts right below the chin.
I am SO CLOSE, people!! And if I wait until the spring of '05 to do the chop, I will definitely have enough hair to donate to locks of love. This SHOULD be enough motivation to keep me on track... but I am seriously considering asking someone to be my chaperone when I go to the cuttery, threatening me with the look of death if I waver from my 2 inch trim.
Thursday, March 11, 2004
self serving, thank you.
i've been at the new domain for quite a bit of time now... but a lot of you have not updated your links. i'm not trying to be a bitch about this... but now i just feel neglected. was it that the last URL had so much more meaning and depth? or that you don't want to endorce my site anymore? or am i just so minute a point that updates need not be made?
::cries quietly in a corner::
::cries quietly in a corner::
Wednesday, March 10, 2004
the sunset was tragically feminine tonight.
in a pouty, purple pastel
clouds pregnant with precipitation
pouring out dreams
and hiding the starz
graciously asking your permission
to steal away
even more
"it's a girl" pink
and wide-eyed blue
streaks of washed out white sky
and traffic light
red yellow green goodbyes
bloated baseline eyes
fingers cover me like blooms in springtime
hidden like g-sting pantylines
lips that kiss... lies. lies. lies.
clouds pregnant with precipitation
pouring out dreams
and hiding the starz
graciously asking your permission
to steal away
even more
"it's a girl" pink
and wide-eyed blue
streaks of washed out white sky
and traffic light
red yellow green goodbyes
bloated baseline eyes
fingers cover me like blooms in springtime
hidden like g-sting pantylines
lips that kiss... lies. lies. lies.
Monday, March 08, 2004
the connection between mountains made of paper and lunar activity.
"if it weren't for that rash, man! she'd be killer!"
i like my music loud... as long as i can hear my own voice over the vocals. i'm musically vain and self-centered like that. if i don't connect with a song and have the urge to sing along with it (even if i am physically not skilled enough to do so)... then i'm not going to like it.
it's not really about how "good" it is. it's about how honest it is. i wanna feel it.
and i suppose that's why certain music snobs have issues with my admiration for Justin Timberlake and Simple Plan. i don't care if it's teenie bop or not. that is not what i base my likes on.
"i was being facetious. that means sarcastic."
and that whole thing goes for more than just my music likes. that pretty much goes for everything. if it moves me... if it is honest and genuine and i feel it... then i'm hooked. to me there is NOTHING cooler than someone or something that just puts it all out there. especially when there is a high risk of being negatively judged.
that acknowledgment of the insecurity and vulnerability followed shortly by a swift kick to its face and a figurative "fuck you." that's pure power right there. not ignoring fear... but kissing it full on the lips.
"ladies and gentlemen... please quite down. and quit throwing shit at the performers!"
maybe that rush of power is why i don't mind conflict. heh. why i kind of get off when someone decides to unfairly peg or judge me into a corner.
because it gives me a chance to look them dead in the eye and lay myself out there. to be totally honest and open about my stance.
and then to watch them squirm into some disillusionment of what a lying, manipulative wench i am. they can't deal. hardly anyone can. when you hold on tight to what you know... and stand by it for everyone to challenge. they think their harsh and hateful words will scar me into submission. that their low blows at my personal worth will somehow make me see the errors of my ways and reveal the greatness of their babbling.
"go fart peas at the moon. i've always had a thing for anal peas in lunar rotation."
but all it really does is reinforce my feelings. it seals the holes and edges with super glue. then it staples them just for good measure.
and i stand tall with my idealistic tower of paper, staples and glue. i see it's flaws, faults and frailty. but i hold it up in its imperfect purity.
and i dance around the room with it... singing right along with Justin.
i like my music loud... as long as i can hear my own voice over the vocals. i'm musically vain and self-centered like that. if i don't connect with a song and have the urge to sing along with it (even if i am physically not skilled enough to do so)... then i'm not going to like it.
it's not really about how "good" it is. it's about how honest it is. i wanna feel it.
and i suppose that's why certain music snobs have issues with my admiration for Justin Timberlake and Simple Plan. i don't care if it's teenie bop or not. that is not what i base my likes on.
"i was being facetious. that means sarcastic."
and that whole thing goes for more than just my music likes. that pretty much goes for everything. if it moves me... if it is honest and genuine and i feel it... then i'm hooked. to me there is NOTHING cooler than someone or something that just puts it all out there. especially when there is a high risk of being negatively judged.
that acknowledgment of the insecurity and vulnerability followed shortly by a swift kick to its face and a figurative "fuck you." that's pure power right there. not ignoring fear... but kissing it full on the lips.
"ladies and gentlemen... please quite down. and quit throwing shit at the performers!"
maybe that rush of power is why i don't mind conflict. heh. why i kind of get off when someone decides to unfairly peg or judge me into a corner.
because it gives me a chance to look them dead in the eye and lay myself out there. to be totally honest and open about my stance.
and then to watch them squirm into some disillusionment of what a lying, manipulative wench i am. they can't deal. hardly anyone can. when you hold on tight to what you know... and stand by it for everyone to challenge. they think their harsh and hateful words will scar me into submission. that their low blows at my personal worth will somehow make me see the errors of my ways and reveal the greatness of their babbling.
"go fart peas at the moon. i've always had a thing for anal peas in lunar rotation."
but all it really does is reinforce my feelings. it seals the holes and edges with super glue. then it staples them just for good measure.
and i stand tall with my idealistic tower of paper, staples and glue. i see it's flaws, faults and frailty. but i hold it up in its imperfect purity.
and i dance around the room with it... singing right along with Justin.
thief
i find that the sun isn't as bright as it used to be. that the warmth has been stolen from its light.
but damn, that moon and its piercing glow... it grows ever stronger. almost challenging me to question its source. daring me to accuse it of stealing.
but damn, that moon and its piercing glow... it grows ever stronger. almost challenging me to question its source. daring me to accuse it of stealing.
recap:
If you haven’t seen The Passion yet… you really should consider it. Religious or not… the message was very powerful and thought provoking. Being the spiritual mutt that I am, I was skeptical about the whole thing, but I have to say that I am very impressed with Mr. Gibson and his approach.
I had a very lovely weekend. Besides seeing the movie, I spent some time with my brother and my father over coffee, dinner and shopping. I had an excellent rehearsal with the guard on Saturday (over ¾ of them showed up to the optional practice!!), but what made the event was the interpretation of the Myers-Briggs I did with them afterwards. I had forgotten how much I loved sharing that with people.
Tonight I was even fortunate enough to get to spend a few hours talking with Kinya. This girl is one of the most wonderful people in my life. And it’s so comforting to feel like she is with me always… even when we don’t get to see each other much anymore. There is just something about our relationship that leaves me with a warm, reassuring contentment.
I am also starting to get comfortable with the road that lies ahead of me with my family. This will be a great chance for me to strengthen and grow. I am looking forward to the challenge and have hopes of rewarding myself after the whole ordeal. It’s nice to know I’ve got some excellent people in my corner… and I thank everyone for every thought, gesture and lent shoulder and ear.
I had a very lovely weekend. Besides seeing the movie, I spent some time with my brother and my father over coffee, dinner and shopping. I had an excellent rehearsal with the guard on Saturday (over ¾ of them showed up to the optional practice!!), but what made the event was the interpretation of the Myers-Briggs I did with them afterwards. I had forgotten how much I loved sharing that with people.
Tonight I was even fortunate enough to get to spend a few hours talking with Kinya. This girl is one of the most wonderful people in my life. And it’s so comforting to feel like she is with me always… even when we don’t get to see each other much anymore. There is just something about our relationship that leaves me with a warm, reassuring contentment.
I am also starting to get comfortable with the road that lies ahead of me with my family. This will be a great chance for me to strengthen and grow. I am looking forward to the challenge and have hopes of rewarding myself after the whole ordeal. It’s nice to know I’ve got some excellent people in my corner… and I thank everyone for every thought, gesture and lent shoulder and ear.
Saturday, March 06, 2004
beware:
something is in the water, folks.
after work last night, i decided to go for a walk around the neighborhood. i needed some time to myself. i needed to process all the shit that has been happening.
it was dark out. 7pm. full moon. so i've got my disc man on and i'm listening to tony lucca. i make the turn around to a little clearing and damn. the view of the moon over the woods is breathtaking. so i park it right where i'm standing on the edge of the sidewalk and just stare.
don't really know how long i sat there, but at least 3 dog walkers passed me. i couldn't hear them trying to say hello, so i just said that i was sorry, but have a nice night.
then i was compelled to get up and start walking again. i passed a street light and right as i came up to the next... the light went out. a faster song came on, and i started to quicken my pace.
i turned the corner onto the main road out in front of the development, and maybe 10 steps after, my phone started to vibrate. i removed one of my headphones. but right before i went to answer the phone... i heard a huge crash.
i turned around.
no more than 20 feet away from me was a white BMW, up in the field next to the corner, with its front axle broken and tires flung to either side. at the corner was a red car with the front bumper hanging off of it.
i hung up on my phone call and dialed 911. the driver of the BMW got out of the car, but the passenger in the front couldn't move. the driver and two passengers of the red car got out and hurried towards the BMW.
the woman driving the red car was in the left lane... but decided last minute to turn right.
... right into the BMW in her blind spot.
minutes later 3 fire trucks, and ambulance and 8 cop cars rolled up. the flood lights... the sirens... the blinking red and blue... there were no less than 30 people on the scene.
i was approached, but couldn't really say anything. i didn't really "witness" the accident. i just heard it. but i helped the cops get the drivers together, and get info about the area. i also told the fire fighters about the BMW engine making some funny noises and so i turned off the car. they told me if i hadn't that it would have caught on fire.
i watched them carry the BMW passenger out on a stretcher... and the driver of the red car go into hysterics about how she was just trying to pick up her friend to go to church.
i ran the rest of the way home.
as i ran i couldn't help but think about the timing. the moon. the light going out. the faster song coming on. the phone call that allowed me to hear the crash. if i had been going any slower or sat any longer... i could have been right in the path of the car.
it missed me by 15 seconds.
after work last night, i decided to go for a walk around the neighborhood. i needed some time to myself. i needed to process all the shit that has been happening.
it was dark out. 7pm. full moon. so i've got my disc man on and i'm listening to tony lucca. i make the turn around to a little clearing and damn. the view of the moon over the woods is breathtaking. so i park it right where i'm standing on the edge of the sidewalk and just stare.
don't really know how long i sat there, but at least 3 dog walkers passed me. i couldn't hear them trying to say hello, so i just said that i was sorry, but have a nice night.
then i was compelled to get up and start walking again. i passed a street light and right as i came up to the next... the light went out. a faster song came on, and i started to quicken my pace.
i turned the corner onto the main road out in front of the development, and maybe 10 steps after, my phone started to vibrate. i removed one of my headphones. but right before i went to answer the phone... i heard a huge crash.
i turned around.
no more than 20 feet away from me was a white BMW, up in the field next to the corner, with its front axle broken and tires flung to either side. at the corner was a red car with the front bumper hanging off of it.
i hung up on my phone call and dialed 911. the driver of the BMW got out of the car, but the passenger in the front couldn't move. the driver and two passengers of the red car got out and hurried towards the BMW.
the woman driving the red car was in the left lane... but decided last minute to turn right.
... right into the BMW in her blind spot.
minutes later 3 fire trucks, and ambulance and 8 cop cars rolled up. the flood lights... the sirens... the blinking red and blue... there were no less than 30 people on the scene.
i was approached, but couldn't really say anything. i didn't really "witness" the accident. i just heard it. but i helped the cops get the drivers together, and get info about the area. i also told the fire fighters about the BMW engine making some funny noises and so i turned off the car. they told me if i hadn't that it would have caught on fire.
i watched them carry the BMW passenger out on a stretcher... and the driver of the red car go into hysterics about how she was just trying to pick up her friend to go to church.
i ran the rest of the way home.
as i ran i couldn't help but think about the timing. the moon. the light going out. the faster song coming on. the phone call that allowed me to hear the crash. if i had been going any slower or sat any longer... i could have been right in the path of the car.
it missed me by 15 seconds.
Friday, March 05, 2004
lame love poem
Internet services
Personal ads
Blind dates
That uneasiness in your stomach
To just leave this all up to fate
The doubts you have in yourself
Contradict the standards you have for them
But then a glimmer
A spark.
This one caught you off guard
And for a few moments you get lost
But somehow you always find yourself alone again
Alone and unsatisfied
You get rejected
Or you never call them back
You tell them that you want more
But they don’t seem to know how
Would you know an angel if you saw one?
Maybe the same is true about love
Too obsessed with the preconceived
To ever really believe
It could be standing
Right in front of you
Waiting
For you to notice
Personal ads
Blind dates
That uneasiness in your stomach
To just leave this all up to fate
The doubts you have in yourself
Contradict the standards you have for them
But then a glimmer
A spark.
This one caught you off guard
And for a few moments you get lost
But somehow you always find yourself alone again
Alone and unsatisfied
You get rejected
Or you never call them back
You tell them that you want more
But they don’t seem to know how
Would you know an angel if you saw one?
Maybe the same is true about love
Too obsessed with the preconceived
To ever really believe
It could be standing
Right in front of you
Waiting
For you to notice
Thursday, March 04, 2004
progress?
i had no desire to hang out with him after practice today. and he got pissed. true, the glee that i am feeling about his reaction could negate the positive change in my outlook towards this matter... but the bottom line is:
i left. and i didn't look back.
i left. and i didn't look back.
Tuesday, March 02, 2004
just so you know
my second column is up over at yourcollegelife.com...
AND i did some housekeeping. hope you enjoy the little updates. i'm going out to play in the backyard now.
AND i did some housekeeping. hope you enjoy the little updates. i'm going out to play in the backyard now.
Monday, March 01, 2004
in less than a month everything will be different.
i'll be back in G'burg. the weather will be lovely. i will ache for a spring fling, but vent my frustrations through spring cleaning my mother's house. i won't be working with the preschoolers. or the winterguard. i won't have any reason to talk to or see drum guy.
i will be working for value village (keep your fingers crossed). i'll be sleeping in my brother's old room. i'll be a nanny and a caregiver for the two women who have done those very things for me my entire life. i won't have access to my computer (don't worry... i will be using my brother's to update).
today i will put in my 2 and a half week's notice in at the preschool. i have a feeling that this will not go over well. but i've made my decision and that's all there is to it.
tonight melissa is having a birthday dinner. my brother and i will be an hour late. i'm really excited about it, though. she is a wonder and an inspiration. then afterwards i will finally get to see Miracle. i hope it gives me an excuse to cry.
then i will sleep over at my mom's and vote with her in the morning. then i have a winterguard sectional followed by a shift at the preschool. then the olive garden with the roomies.
shit. you all don't care. i hate posts like this. i'm just going to have a very busy fucking week. yes. and i'm not feeling poetic. so i'm sorry this post is so mechanical. but sometimes i just feel mechanical.
goin through the motions. yep. ok. i'm done.
i'll be back in G'burg. the weather will be lovely. i will ache for a spring fling, but vent my frustrations through spring cleaning my mother's house. i won't be working with the preschoolers. or the winterguard. i won't have any reason to talk to or see drum guy.
i will be working for value village (keep your fingers crossed). i'll be sleeping in my brother's old room. i'll be a nanny and a caregiver for the two women who have done those very things for me my entire life. i won't have access to my computer (don't worry... i will be using my brother's to update).
today i will put in my 2 and a half week's notice in at the preschool. i have a feeling that this will not go over well. but i've made my decision and that's all there is to it.
tonight melissa is having a birthday dinner. my brother and i will be an hour late. i'm really excited about it, though. she is a wonder and an inspiration. then afterwards i will finally get to see Miracle. i hope it gives me an excuse to cry.
then i will sleep over at my mom's and vote with her in the morning. then i have a winterguard sectional followed by a shift at the preschool. then the olive garden with the roomies.
shit. you all don't care. i hate posts like this. i'm just going to have a very busy fucking week. yes. and i'm not feeling poetic. so i'm sorry this post is so mechanical. but sometimes i just feel mechanical.
goin through the motions. yep. ok. i'm done.
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