I guess this is where the last post left off.
My financial issues are still pretty high, but I was talking with a good friend, who hates how I'm stuck out here. He wants me and Case to move out, and he suggested selling my car. The thought had not occurred to me... I mean, my car is how I get around. It got me across the country. My parents basically gave it to me once I moved out here - I have the title and everything. It gets me to work - all the job apps. I've filled out lately, I've checked off that I have reliable transportation.
But work is still scarce. I'm worried about my money, and I really don't want to be here anymore. I looked in the Kelley Blue Book online, and it says that my car, if it were in excellent condition, would be $3660. It's not in excellent condition, but it runs well enough, gets good gas mileage, and even has a CD player/MP3 jack in it. So maybe it would be worth somewhere closer to $3000... but $3000 would take care of my credit card bill, and it would give me money to help pay my bills in the future, and maybe start saving up for a place elsewhere.
So, pros of selling the car:
Money in my bank account, enough to pay my credit card bill and start saving
No more car insurance (since no car)
No more gas issues
No worries about future mechanical issues
Cons of selling the car:
Gift from my parents, don't know what they would think
Less mobility in general
Fewer opportunities for work
Have to work out carpooling with people
So I guess that's something to think about. Part of me is cringing about losing the car, because I love that car - it's been "my" car since I was a junior in high school. With it, I've been stuck in a snowbank, busted both bumpers, and dinged a deer. It gave me the freedom to visit people, to get my own supplies, and to make long-distance plans.
But another part of me is scared about my bills. $1800 may not seem like much in terms of loans and big-time expenses, but it's still a big number to me. I screwed up a lot with my money this year (though not all of it was my fault), and I want to make it right, but all the conventional methods seem to be closed to me.
I suppose I'll ask my parents what they might think. For all I know, they might veto it - because I probably would need my car if I was to come back to Vermont. Then again, my mom does work part-time, so if I could get an afternoon/evening job... I don't know. My friend may be right... the times might be desperate enough for me to do something that drastic, because God knows that work has not been coming.
If I have readers - do you have any thoughts?
Sunday, December 7, 2008
Monday, December 1, 2008
Minutiae
Here's an update on the 14-year-old drama queen situation - no change whatsoever. She hasn't taken what I've told her to heart; although she's said she's ashamed, she doesn't stop. She said she tried, but I haven't seen it. The only time she's ever been a presentable human being is when a mod is around, and with one mod in particular, she doesn't even go that far. The mod himself mentioned in private chat that it's always quiet and peaceful when she's not around, but there hasn't been any hugely deliberate actions that have merited a ban. So it's kind of a hopeless thing.
Also, this girl has the goal of becoming a mod herself. This would benefit her more than it would benefit the game site or its inhabitants, as far as I can see - as a mod, she would be able to ban a person at her whim. And she would have the whim, if anyone decided to speak out against her for any small reason. Therefore, I've announced that if she ever becomes a mod, then I will quit the game site for good. This, of course, dismayed her - I told her that if she ever became a mod, then it meant that the system failed. The mod present whispered to me that he would do the same.
Ugh... I can't focus on this now. My finances are going to screw me over, and there's nothing I can do. Not unless I get a job in the next month, that is, and get paid before the month is over.
Also, this girl has the goal of becoming a mod herself. This would benefit her more than it would benefit the game site or its inhabitants, as far as I can see - as a mod, she would be able to ban a person at her whim. And she would have the whim, if anyone decided to speak out against her for any small reason. Therefore, I've announced that if she ever becomes a mod, then I will quit the game site for good. This, of course, dismayed her - I told her that if she ever became a mod, then it meant that the system failed. The mod present whispered to me that he would do the same.
Ugh... I can't focus on this now. My finances are going to screw me over, and there's nothing I can do. Not unless I get a job in the next month, that is, and get paid before the month is over.
Thursday, November 27, 2008
Cat's Stuck on the Roof
The roof is wet tile, not hot tin. Luckily, Case's brother Travis has a hole cut in his screen, and he was out, so I was able to let Kozmo in. However, I cut myself on the metal blinds, so I'm sucking on that a little.
I'm also searching for more Blogspot blogs I can follow, so I can at least see what some of my friends are doing. The two that I have so far haven't updated in weeks.
I just finished a fairly intense psychological session. I was the psychologist, even though I've never taken a single psych course. To be honest, it doesn't take that much to become a psychologist... you just have to ask the right questions, and get your subject to think about what he or she is doing.
My subject was a fourteen-year-old girl, with the alias of Haley23. I know her real name, and I've even found her incomplete profile on Facebook, but of course I'm staying anonymous. As far as I can tell, she's a pretty normal teenager in real life - pretty, bubbly, lots of girl friends, a religious background. Now that I think about it, she reminds me a little of my cousin Lindsay; Lindsay was all those things, from what I remember, and unfortunately she tried to push religious stuff on me back when I was a teenager, at a slumber party, which fouled up my opinion of her (and of religion) quite a bit.
But back to Haley. As normal as she may be in real life, she is almost batshit crazy when she's online in the chat room we share. My opinion of her has been really low, almost to the point of complete disgust. Most of that came from the fact that she lied a lot about who she was. Her age switched around a lot, and she could be anything from fawning to vitriolic. I'm a little ashamed to say that I wasn't always kind to her. It was hard for me to see past any of what she was showing us. But I was curious, I suppose, to see if there was any way to stop her from being so obnoxious to everyone.
So I talked to her. She realized that what she was doing was playing for attention. She felt like people wouldn't pay attention to her if she just talked normally, so she did obnoxious things so people would react; I suggested that she just talk about stuff that interested her (music, books, etc). She told me that some people just made her really excited, and that the environment (i.e. keyboard, anonymity) made it easy for her to go all out with the excitement, more so than she would if we were all people around her in real life. I can sympathize with that, at least with the whole train-of-thought thing... I know I write better here, and in chats, than I talk in real life. But I tried to convince her that the ettiquette of a chat room isn't that much different from school, or the mall, and that obnoxious behavior was just as intolerable in chat as it was in those kinds of places. I advised her in how to handle people who were being annoying - ask them politely, then either mute them or call a mod if they start getting abusive.
Another talkative person, Railfun, was a little obnoxious himself while I was working with Haley, but when he realized that she sincerely wanted to change her behavior, he encouraged her. That made me really happy, that other people cared about her, and I think she was glad too. When I was about to log, she started to do her whole "don't leave!" thing, but said she was kidding. I warned her that she should be careful with that sort of behavior - that I knew she was joking, but other people would interpret as her old behavior, so she promised to be careful.
I also warned her, during the discussion, that getting people to realize she changed, and accept that she changed, would take time, and that there would be people who would still treat her like her old self. I encouraged her not to let that get to her, although I told her I understood that words could hurt. Of course I understand that... regardless of what social position one holds in high school, there will always be hurtful words. And it wasn't that long ago for me, was it? Just a little over eight years since I felt depressed almost towards suicide, when I wrote that article yelling at my own peers, when I had to deal with someone obsessed with me... just remembering makes me quiver a little bit.
But that time is way past. My worries are a little more substantial, and financial... but like everything else, I will get through them. And maybe, in the work I managed to do tonight, I brought a little peace to that little microcosm that is The Singularity. Maybe I can be a big sister after all. That's a comforting thought, since my future sister-in-law is ten months younger than I am, and already has a house and a daughter - kind of missed out on the big-sister train there.
And there are no cats stuck on the roof now... they're all curled up into furry balls, sleeping... as I should be. Buona notte.
I'm also searching for more Blogspot blogs I can follow, so I can at least see what some of my friends are doing. The two that I have so far haven't updated in weeks.
I just finished a fairly intense psychological session. I was the psychologist, even though I've never taken a single psych course. To be honest, it doesn't take that much to become a psychologist... you just have to ask the right questions, and get your subject to think about what he or she is doing.
My subject was a fourteen-year-old girl, with the alias of Haley23. I know her real name, and I've even found her incomplete profile on Facebook, but of course I'm staying anonymous. As far as I can tell, she's a pretty normal teenager in real life - pretty, bubbly, lots of girl friends, a religious background. Now that I think about it, she reminds me a little of my cousin Lindsay; Lindsay was all those things, from what I remember, and unfortunately she tried to push religious stuff on me back when I was a teenager, at a slumber party, which fouled up my opinion of her (and of religion) quite a bit.
But back to Haley. As normal as she may be in real life, she is almost batshit crazy when she's online in the chat room we share. My opinion of her has been really low, almost to the point of complete disgust. Most of that came from the fact that she lied a lot about who she was. Her age switched around a lot, and she could be anything from fawning to vitriolic. I'm a little ashamed to say that I wasn't always kind to her. It was hard for me to see past any of what she was showing us. But I was curious, I suppose, to see if there was any way to stop her from being so obnoxious to everyone.
So I talked to her. She realized that what she was doing was playing for attention. She felt like people wouldn't pay attention to her if she just talked normally, so she did obnoxious things so people would react; I suggested that she just talk about stuff that interested her (music, books, etc). She told me that some people just made her really excited, and that the environment (i.e. keyboard, anonymity) made it easy for her to go all out with the excitement, more so than she would if we were all people around her in real life. I can sympathize with that, at least with the whole train-of-thought thing... I know I write better here, and in chats, than I talk in real life. But I tried to convince her that the ettiquette of a chat room isn't that much different from school, or the mall, and that obnoxious behavior was just as intolerable in chat as it was in those kinds of places. I advised her in how to handle people who were being annoying - ask them politely, then either mute them or call a mod if they start getting abusive.
Another talkative person, Railfun, was a little obnoxious himself while I was working with Haley, but when he realized that she sincerely wanted to change her behavior, he encouraged her. That made me really happy, that other people cared about her, and I think she was glad too. When I was about to log, she started to do her whole "don't leave!" thing, but said she was kidding. I warned her that she should be careful with that sort of behavior - that I knew she was joking, but other people would interpret as her old behavior, so she promised to be careful.
I also warned her, during the discussion, that getting people to realize she changed, and accept that she changed, would take time, and that there would be people who would still treat her like her old self. I encouraged her not to let that get to her, although I told her I understood that words could hurt. Of course I understand that... regardless of what social position one holds in high school, there will always be hurtful words. And it wasn't that long ago for me, was it? Just a little over eight years since I felt depressed almost towards suicide, when I wrote that article yelling at my own peers, when I had to deal with someone obsessed with me... just remembering makes me quiver a little bit.
But that time is way past. My worries are a little more substantial, and financial... but like everything else, I will get through them. And maybe, in the work I managed to do tonight, I brought a little peace to that little microcosm that is The Singularity. Maybe I can be a big sister after all. That's a comforting thought, since my future sister-in-law is ten months younger than I am, and already has a house and a daughter - kind of missed out on the big-sister train there.
And there are no cats stuck on the roof now... they're all curled up into furry balls, sleeping... as I should be. Buona notte.
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Fits and Starts
Somewhere in my being is a drive. It's what pushed me to become Valedictorian, it's what brought me out to California. Now it seems to be hidden. I want it back.
I was a writer once. I published poetry and writing in VTC's prototype literary journal, and stuck to my poetry throughout college. I wrote stuff that my colleagues and editors rated as 10 on a 1-to-10 scale, because I was able to tell stories with it. They could get the images out of it, they could imagine it. I haven't written anything good since those years... since those first few years.
Of course, I think a lot of my fan-fiction writing isn't bad. The story about Ladystark and Danooge contains a lot of personal references, but it has a lot of imagery that could most likely resonate with any geek, if not any person. Self-realization, loss, triumph, discovery... of course, one would have to appreciate the venue. Writing as an Undead warlock creates a somewhat specialized viewpoint, and sometimes I feel like I haven't developed Ladystark enough. Like she's warmed up to the living too quickly, I guess. Part of that, though, is that Case always had ideas of how Danooge was going to be, since he is Danooge. I kind of wish I could have collaborated with him, help him write in some chapters... maybe I can get him back into that mindset, too. He's started to draw again, getting back into practice.
The Stephen King project is not about great writing, at least not completely. It's about research... it's an encyclopedia, meant as a kind of supplement, not as a replacement for the novels, novellas, etc. However, the entries should provide relevant information, maybe some of the smaller details in order to get a picture of the person, place, or thing described. The troublesome thing is how much time and energy I will need to devote to this task. I'm honestly wishing I had a laptop right now, because I would like to be able to work on this wherever and whenever I want, instead of being stuck at a desk. I really would love to trade this desktop in.
Hell, if I could save everything I wanted, I'd trade it in for the laptop that Tucker never uses. He never uses it because his power cord failed, and he's too lazy to send it in for a refund. I'd send in for a new one and get that laptop running, and work whenever it felt comfortable to. And he would have a computer - not top-of-the-line, but still functional enough, enough to play games and search the web, which seems like all that he ever does. Plus, the printer is hooked up to it, so he could get his schoolwork done without too much trouble. Maybe I'll see if I can negotiate with him... he tends to be horribly possessive. He may protest that because his grandfather gave it to him, that he won't give it up. But it's useless to him without power, and he's too lazy to do anything to better his money situation.
Looking at laptops on eBay only makes me sad.
So, back to the beginning - I'm missing my drive. I really want it back, so I can get things done. I'm so distracted, and thusly my purpose for going through each day is foggy. Why do I get up? What do I want to accomplish in a day? When I turn on my computer, will it be for work or play? Where is my discipline? How can I turn my situation around?
If you have any ideas, please say so... it may end up that I'll figure it out for myself, but any help is appreciated.
I was a writer once. I published poetry and writing in VTC's prototype literary journal, and stuck to my poetry throughout college. I wrote stuff that my colleagues and editors rated as 10 on a 1-to-10 scale, because I was able to tell stories with it. They could get the images out of it, they could imagine it. I haven't written anything good since those years... since those first few years.
Of course, I think a lot of my fan-fiction writing isn't bad. The story about Ladystark and Danooge contains a lot of personal references, but it has a lot of imagery that could most likely resonate with any geek, if not any person. Self-realization, loss, triumph, discovery... of course, one would have to appreciate the venue. Writing as an Undead warlock creates a somewhat specialized viewpoint, and sometimes I feel like I haven't developed Ladystark enough. Like she's warmed up to the living too quickly, I guess. Part of that, though, is that Case always had ideas of how Danooge was going to be, since he is Danooge. I kind of wish I could have collaborated with him, help him write in some chapters... maybe I can get him back into that mindset, too. He's started to draw again, getting back into practice.
The Stephen King project is not about great writing, at least not completely. It's about research... it's an encyclopedia, meant as a kind of supplement, not as a replacement for the novels, novellas, etc. However, the entries should provide relevant information, maybe some of the smaller details in order to get a picture of the person, place, or thing described. The troublesome thing is how much time and energy I will need to devote to this task. I'm honestly wishing I had a laptop right now, because I would like to be able to work on this wherever and whenever I want, instead of being stuck at a desk. I really would love to trade this desktop in.
Hell, if I could save everything I wanted, I'd trade it in for the laptop that Tucker never uses. He never uses it because his power cord failed, and he's too lazy to send it in for a refund. I'd send in for a new one and get that laptop running, and work whenever it felt comfortable to. And he would have a computer - not top-of-the-line, but still functional enough, enough to play games and search the web, which seems like all that he ever does. Plus, the printer is hooked up to it, so he could get his schoolwork done without too much trouble. Maybe I'll see if I can negotiate with him... he tends to be horribly possessive. He may protest that because his grandfather gave it to him, that he won't give it up. But it's useless to him without power, and he's too lazy to do anything to better his money situation.
Looking at laptops on eBay only makes me sad.
So, back to the beginning - I'm missing my drive. I really want it back, so I can get things done. I'm so distracted, and thusly my purpose for going through each day is foggy. Why do I get up? What do I want to accomplish in a day? When I turn on my computer, will it be for work or play? Where is my discipline? How can I turn my situation around?
If you have any ideas, please say so... it may end up that I'll figure it out for myself, but any help is appreciated.
Sunday, November 16, 2008
Project Musings
Last night, I was thinking about my project. I think I'm going to add a Timeline section to the People, Places, and Things categories. The Timeline could take care of years, months, specific dates, instead of having that clutter up the Things section, as it did with Spignesi's Stephen King Encyclopedia. True enough, that I'm basing my classification system on his, but I'm being very careful. He had some pretty glaring holes in some sections - missing characters that were key plot points, items mentioned that didn't go anywhere... you know. It's stuff you'd think he'd picked up during the first drafts... but then again, he did most of the first drafts by hand (he provided photocopies of his manuscripts in one section).
Also, I'm not going to go into the film versions - they could take up another book on their own. I would need a completely different mindset... and possibly some more college courses in film study.
Or maybe I could put a timeline up for all the novels he wrote between 1991 and today... or would that be too complex? How would I chart that out? Would it be a centerfold? Or would it just cover several pages, with a row for every novel? Or maybe each page would be a year, with specific dates as they come up during that year (with maybe a few years on some pages, if there are only brief mentions?)... At any rate, it would have to be very specific. The timeline needs to be accurate and concise.
And I shouldn't really be thinking too much about the other novels right now. I still have so much to do on "Needful Things". The People section is almost complete (I've been doing another read-through, filling in the gaps as I find them), but there's nothing in Places or Things. I need to stop hanging around Kongregate so much (or at least shrink down Firefox from time to time) and just focus and DO it. It's screaming to be done, that one book. And soon as it's finished, the other ones I started will raise their voices too. Keep talking to me, files. You know I've got the fingers for it. You know I have the patience, and the will... just need the motivation.
I think I will have motivation soon. Case was working on some of his old Star Wars (pre-Phantom Shittage) fanfictions. Apparently some of the files were lost during the big computer overhaul; he had had a bad attack from a bad file download, so he had to save as much as he could on portable drives. During that transfer, bits and pieces were lost, so he's trying to recreate as much has he can. As he works, so should I. Maybe, by the time I get back to Vermont, I'll have enough finished to show Tony Magistrale. He's my old college advisor, a Stephen King expert, and something like a second dad to me. I don't know if he'd be pleased or disappointed by my progress, but I'd like to be able to show him something.
Thinking about the introduction - for I'll need to explain why I'm doing this, and my mind goes back to when I first started getting Barnes & Noble gift cards from my grandparents. I, being a Stephen King fan as a teenager, was always looking for new things to read... and suddenly, at the end of a shelf of short Signet paperbacks, there was this huge soft-cover book saying "The Stephen King Encyclopedia" on its spine. My fate was sealed (heh heh). I read that book, cover to cover, giggled over the funny sections, marveled at the artwork... and eventually began picking up on the errors. It was one of the books I brought with me to college (I think), and one that I brought with me to California.
Now, Spignesi is an expert of Stephen King. He did tons of research for his encyclopedia. I never knew that there was a Stephen King newsletter (it died out before I became interested) or a parody newsletter... I never knew "Carrie" had been made into a Broadway musical (maybe trying to capture the whole Sondheim/Sweeney Todd feel)... there were so many unfinished or unpublished works that were listed, some of which were later included in short story collections (i.e. "Nightmares and Dreamscapes") or on their own (i.e. "Blaze", which I still haven't purchased yet). God knows how much that book broadened my understanding of Stephen King.
Spignesi hasn't come out with a second edition of the Encyclopedia; it's possible that the effort took too much time, and that he's turned his attentions to other things. If that's so, then I really hope I could see my name on the second edition. I really wish I could get in contact with some of these experts, because I don't think I'm particularly in their league yet... but I could be. I remember being in Tony's classes and having him turn to me for some specific detail - he knew that I knew it, even if he had forgotten. Tony knows how to discuss Stephen King, for sure, but when it comes to raw detail, I used to be the best. I'm out of practice. Most of my novels are back at home (they take up more than one shelf downstairs!).
Even though my mind is supposedly past its prime for learning... I'm still hungry for knowledge. So maybe it's time to see how much knowledge I can transfer, from book via mind onto file. In these times, now that my education has been put on hold, the mental challenges are few and far between. How much can I remember - how much can I write about?
I guess, starting again tomorrow, we'll see. Until then, goodnight.
Also, I'm not going to go into the film versions - they could take up another book on their own. I would need a completely different mindset... and possibly some more college courses in film study.
Or maybe I could put a timeline up for all the novels he wrote between 1991 and today... or would that be too complex? How would I chart that out? Would it be a centerfold? Or would it just cover several pages, with a row for every novel? Or maybe each page would be a year, with specific dates as they come up during that year (with maybe a few years on some pages, if there are only brief mentions?)... At any rate, it would have to be very specific. The timeline needs to be accurate and concise.
And I shouldn't really be thinking too much about the other novels right now. I still have so much to do on "Needful Things". The People section is almost complete (I've been doing another read-through, filling in the gaps as I find them), but there's nothing in Places or Things. I need to stop hanging around Kongregate so much (or at least shrink down Firefox from time to time) and just focus and DO it. It's screaming to be done, that one book. And soon as it's finished, the other ones I started will raise their voices too. Keep talking to me, files. You know I've got the fingers for it. You know I have the patience, and the will... just need the motivation.
I think I will have motivation soon. Case was working on some of his old Star Wars (pre-Phantom Shittage) fanfictions. Apparently some of the files were lost during the big computer overhaul; he had had a bad attack from a bad file download, so he had to save as much as he could on portable drives. During that transfer, bits and pieces were lost, so he's trying to recreate as much has he can. As he works, so should I. Maybe, by the time I get back to Vermont, I'll have enough finished to show Tony Magistrale. He's my old college advisor, a Stephen King expert, and something like a second dad to me. I don't know if he'd be pleased or disappointed by my progress, but I'd like to be able to show him something.
Thinking about the introduction - for I'll need to explain why I'm doing this, and my mind goes back to when I first started getting Barnes & Noble gift cards from my grandparents. I, being a Stephen King fan as a teenager, was always looking for new things to read... and suddenly, at the end of a shelf of short Signet paperbacks, there was this huge soft-cover book saying "The Stephen King Encyclopedia" on its spine. My fate was sealed (heh heh). I read that book, cover to cover, giggled over the funny sections, marveled at the artwork... and eventually began picking up on the errors. It was one of the books I brought with me to college (I think), and one that I brought with me to California.
Now, Spignesi is an expert of Stephen King. He did tons of research for his encyclopedia. I never knew that there was a Stephen King newsletter (it died out before I became interested) or a parody newsletter... I never knew "Carrie" had been made into a Broadway musical (maybe trying to capture the whole Sondheim/Sweeney Todd feel)... there were so many unfinished or unpublished works that were listed, some of which were later included in short story collections (i.e. "Nightmares and Dreamscapes") or on their own (i.e. "Blaze", which I still haven't purchased yet). God knows how much that book broadened my understanding of Stephen King.
Spignesi hasn't come out with a second edition of the Encyclopedia; it's possible that the effort took too much time, and that he's turned his attentions to other things. If that's so, then I really hope I could see my name on the second edition. I really wish I could get in contact with some of these experts, because I don't think I'm particularly in their league yet... but I could be. I remember being in Tony's classes and having him turn to me for some specific detail - he knew that I knew it, even if he had forgotten. Tony knows how to discuss Stephen King, for sure, but when it comes to raw detail, I used to be the best. I'm out of practice. Most of my novels are back at home (they take up more than one shelf downstairs!).
Even though my mind is supposedly past its prime for learning... I'm still hungry for knowledge. So maybe it's time to see how much knowledge I can transfer, from book via mind onto file. In these times, now that my education has been put on hold, the mental challenges are few and far between. How much can I remember - how much can I write about?
I guess, starting again tomorrow, we'll see. Until then, goodnight.
Thursday, November 13, 2008
What's That, You Say? Write? Okay...
I think it was only yesterday in Twitter that I posted how Patton Oswalt will be writing a book instead of posting in his usual Myspace blog, and how maybe I should follow his example and return to my Stephen King Encyclopedia project. I opened up the files and looked at what I had - not much. I need to dig out Needful Things and keep working on the three distinct sections; there are gaps in the People entries, and Places and Things have little to nothing in them, just placeholders to keep the files there.
I also advised Patton, in a reply, to use the blogging as either a warm-up or a vent - the analogies I used were as hors d'oeuvres or after-dinner mints. Maybe I should really follow my own advice, eh? Keep writing here as either a warm-up to some serious research, or use it to cool off from having my nose stuck in a book too long.
Well, now I have more reason to write here... I'm being watched.
No. It's a good thing!
I used to be pretty hardcore into World of Warcraft - after all, it was where I met my Caseman. After my financial situation started breaking apart, I suspended my subscription - any money I could save, and I wasn't playing that much. WoW flows in waves sometimes... new content comes, everyone gets excited and servers get overloaded and laggy, things get analyzed and formulated, and soon enough you're leveling alts and wondering if there will be enough people to raid Karazhan.
Well, the newest expansion, Wrath of the Lich King, came out in stores today. The back-order list must be astonishing... but neither Case or I have bought it, for monetary reasons. The other, more subtle reasoning is that with this new content, servers will be more laggy than ever, and it will be bug central. We've already got ants in our room, we really don't need the bugs on our computer screens as well.
Anyway... I'm being watched by one of our old friends from our guild, Impetus! Despite that we haven't been able to access their forums, for some odd reason, we are still members, and we are missed. It may still be a little while before we're back online, but we will be back. Back for pwning.
In the meantime, I'm still trying to find a second job, filling out online applications left and right. No response as yet, but I'll keep doing it until I get results. And I'm going to keep my mind and wit sharp by continuing to write. And, whoever else may be watching... give me feedback!
I also advised Patton, in a reply, to use the blogging as either a warm-up or a vent - the analogies I used were as hors d'oeuvres or after-dinner mints. Maybe I should really follow my own advice, eh? Keep writing here as either a warm-up to some serious research, or use it to cool off from having my nose stuck in a book too long.
Well, now I have more reason to write here... I'm being watched.
No. It's a good thing!
I used to be pretty hardcore into World of Warcraft - after all, it was where I met my Caseman. After my financial situation started breaking apart, I suspended my subscription - any money I could save, and I wasn't playing that much. WoW flows in waves sometimes... new content comes, everyone gets excited and servers get overloaded and laggy, things get analyzed and formulated, and soon enough you're leveling alts and wondering if there will be enough people to raid Karazhan.
Well, the newest expansion, Wrath of the Lich King, came out in stores today. The back-order list must be astonishing... but neither Case or I have bought it, for monetary reasons. The other, more subtle reasoning is that with this new content, servers will be more laggy than ever, and it will be bug central. We've already got ants in our room, we really don't need the bugs on our computer screens as well.
Anyway... I'm being watched by one of our old friends from our guild, Impetus! Despite that we haven't been able to access their forums, for some odd reason, we are still members, and we are missed. It may still be a little while before we're back online, but we will be back. Back for pwning.
In the meantime, I'm still trying to find a second job, filling out online applications left and right. No response as yet, but I'll keep doing it until I get results. And I'm going to keep my mind and wit sharp by continuing to write. And, whoever else may be watching... give me feedback!
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Short One
1. Drama is a weed. No matter how hard you pull at it or curse at it, it still keeps coming back. Now if only I had some screenshots to show you what I'm talking about...
2. If you ever find that one particular site isn't connecting, check your HOSTS file.
3. I'm looking forward to the 50's style experience of the Sonic Burger drive-in stalls.
4. Case cut me some roses today.
5. Tea is good, but is it possible that my insomnia is linked to over-caffeination? Seems likely.
6. Whenever I get my own household, I want no brooding, unexplained anger. Tell me what's bugging you and we'll work it out, and no one else will be affected. It gets really bad here, especially when it comes to Case and his dad. When they're in that sort of mood, they're practically inapproachable.
7. Credit card bill is paid, again. It's going to be a while before it's paid in full, but at least I'm starting to recover some of the remaining balance.
8. Halloween is on Friday, and I still haven't gotten into the flour or found a rolling pin. At least my hair will be weird enough to play Mrs. Lovett (and who says it has to be absolutely like Helena Bonham Carter's? She was just one of many Mrs. Lovetts during the past fifty years. The version I saw with Ben Kingsley wore a white wig, IIRC).
2. If you ever find that one particular site isn't connecting, check your HOSTS file.
3. I'm looking forward to the 50's style experience of the Sonic Burger drive-in stalls.
4. Case cut me some roses today.
5. Tea is good, but is it possible that my insomnia is linked to over-caffeination? Seems likely.
6. Whenever I get my own household, I want no brooding, unexplained anger. Tell me what's bugging you and we'll work it out, and no one else will be affected. It gets really bad here, especially when it comes to Case and his dad. When they're in that sort of mood, they're practically inapproachable.
7. Credit card bill is paid, again. It's going to be a while before it's paid in full, but at least I'm starting to recover some of the remaining balance.
8. Halloween is on Friday, and I still haven't gotten into the flour or found a rolling pin. At least my hair will be weird enough to play Mrs. Lovett (and who says it has to be absolutely like Helena Bonham Carter's? She was just one of many Mrs. Lovetts during the past fifty years. The version I saw with Ben Kingsley wore a white wig, IIRC).
Saturday, October 25, 2008
The What-If's, Again
Thinking about the past can be comforting, but often it brings up questions that would be maddening. There will always be loose ends, unrequited feelings, mistakes. For all those little thoughts, there are the preceding words - "What if."
What if I had never fallen in love with Case? Would I have stayed with Miles? After that semi-slight from his family (I wasn't invited along to a family reunion-type thing down at Bar Harbor, although his bro's girlfriend was), and my own sacrifices (driving down to Massachusetts in the middle of the night with clean clothes so Miles could change at the hospital where his dad was suffering heatstroke), I seriously doubt it. Would I have stayed single after that? Maybe hooked up with another one of my close friends? If so, then it's very likely I would have stayed in Vermont, working, maybe going for my next degree.
Every guy that I've had an intimate/romantic connection with in the past tends to retain a fondness in my heart. This is true even for the ones who have upset me at certain points in the past. That is, to say, if I were to meet up with any of them right now, I would be friendly and warm and want to know everything about them since I left Vermont. This may be an upcoming situation - one man who was in love with me in college is coming to California within the next week or so, for work-related reasons. If he's within two hour's drive, I might try to find him. It wouldn't be much of an issue, save maybe for gas, since my work hours just keep getting cut (I'm pissed about that, by the way). If I find him, and I'm alone (which seems likely), what will I say? What will I do? Hopefully I would be as I said above - friendly, warm, and interested in the past year of his life. Hopefully I would not be scared shitless, as I said I would be if I heard the doorbell ring or see an antique car driving through this neighborhood.
I do what-ifs about intimate connections because part of my psyche is a little bored in my relationship with Case. I know that I can be a boring person, that I'm not always exciting when it comes to sex or romance, and I know these days I've been super-frugal. The idea of an affair, with a past flame, is both exciting and upsetting. I know that I would never do it - I'd rather break off my engagement (or all my fingers and toes) than cheat on Case. But the memories I hold, of years when I didn't have such moral strength, tend to provoke those kinds of ideas. Lucky, you might say, that I'm on the other side of the country from anyone that I would consider being intimate with - no temptations.
That I'm even talking about this stuff might raise a few eyebrows, put suspicion on my character. To even consider... c'mon, I'm no saint. Nuns and priests promise themselves to one being, and so can I. But I'm a writer with a fairly good memory, and the need to vent and get some possible perversions out of my head. Name one of my friends who hasn't had a fantasy about an ex or a flame or any sort of multimedia sex symbol (name anyone, for that matter), and I'll never talk to another man again. But you can't, can you? And if you could, that would make my guy friends very sad, especially the one who's going to be the man of honor at my wedding.
So no worries... just ideas, just what-ifs. Harmless ramblings. Get your mind out of the gutter and go to sleep.
What if I had never fallen in love with Case? Would I have stayed with Miles? After that semi-slight from his family (I wasn't invited along to a family reunion-type thing down at Bar Harbor, although his bro's girlfriend was), and my own sacrifices (driving down to Massachusetts in the middle of the night with clean clothes so Miles could change at the hospital where his dad was suffering heatstroke), I seriously doubt it. Would I have stayed single after that? Maybe hooked up with another one of my close friends? If so, then it's very likely I would have stayed in Vermont, working, maybe going for my next degree.
Every guy that I've had an intimate/romantic connection with in the past tends to retain a fondness in my heart. This is true even for the ones who have upset me at certain points in the past. That is, to say, if I were to meet up with any of them right now, I would be friendly and warm and want to know everything about them since I left Vermont. This may be an upcoming situation - one man who was in love with me in college is coming to California within the next week or so, for work-related reasons. If he's within two hour's drive, I might try to find him. It wouldn't be much of an issue, save maybe for gas, since my work hours just keep getting cut (I'm pissed about that, by the way). If I find him, and I'm alone (which seems likely), what will I say? What will I do? Hopefully I would be as I said above - friendly, warm, and interested in the past year of his life. Hopefully I would not be scared shitless, as I said I would be if I heard the doorbell ring or see an antique car driving through this neighborhood.
I do what-ifs about intimate connections because part of my psyche is a little bored in my relationship with Case. I know that I can be a boring person, that I'm not always exciting when it comes to sex or romance, and I know these days I've been super-frugal. The idea of an affair, with a past flame, is both exciting and upsetting. I know that I would never do it - I'd rather break off my engagement (or all my fingers and toes) than cheat on Case. But the memories I hold, of years when I didn't have such moral strength, tend to provoke those kinds of ideas. Lucky, you might say, that I'm on the other side of the country from anyone that I would consider being intimate with - no temptations.
That I'm even talking about this stuff might raise a few eyebrows, put suspicion on my character. To even consider... c'mon, I'm no saint. Nuns and priests promise themselves to one being, and so can I. But I'm a writer with a fairly good memory, and the need to vent and get some possible perversions out of my head. Name one of my friends who hasn't had a fantasy about an ex or a flame or any sort of multimedia sex symbol (name anyone, for that matter), and I'll never talk to another man again. But you can't, can you? And if you could, that would make my guy friends very sad, especially the one who's going to be the man of honor at my wedding.
So no worries... just ideas, just what-ifs. Harmless ramblings. Get your mind out of the gutter and go to sleep.
Thursday, October 23, 2008
Candlelight
Today was a productive day, if you can believe it. Case and I went to the Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf over on 10th, and finally spent the gift card I got from his folks last Christmas. I had some jasmine and green tea, Case had a vanilla latte, and I also bought some loose-leaf genmaicha green and a tea ball - it has a bumblebee on the end; the selection was limited, it was either bumblebee or ladybug, and they were supposed to have dragonflies but they must have been a popular choice.
After that, we cleaned up most of the common area of the house. The pool table is still covered with boxes, and a lot of Tucker's and Travis' stuff is sitting on the landing at the stairs, but for the most part, things are organized and/or clean.
My contributions - vacuuming the rugs, shaking out the door rug, washing out the cookie jar, consolidating some of Terri's boxes on the pool table, consolidating Audrey's toys into one corner of the living room, opening up the area in front of the fireplace (as the Stark's say, "Winter is Coming"), and dusting off the top of the television (it was a mess!).
Case's contributions - cleaning up most of the kitchen area; doing dishes, sweeping the kitchen floor, cleaning the fryer tray, cleaning countertops, taking out the trash.
Our room is the next target - I already took down most of the dishes, except for the plate I brought up tonight for my Hot Pockets. My little "barrier" between me and the door has mostly been eliminated as well, and a lot of my clothes are clean. However, my half of the desk top is a cluttered mess, as is most of the other flat surfaces in the room, so I imagine that'll be my project. And, of course, the rugs are covered with fragments of sunflower seed shells.
What else? Case broke his chair yesterday, now has two legs of five broken, pretty much useless unless he props it up with something. He's sitting in one of the spare dining room chairs now. Actually, at this very moment he's sleeping on the futon, with Kosmo curled up next to him. I know that as soon as I get in, Kosmo will shift himself and lie down on whichever arm is closest to the middle of the bed, depending on how I'm laying.
In the dark, lit only by my computer screen and a single scented candle, I think about secrets. I think about my conversations with my friend, how he's struggling to maintain some normalcy in his life. Because of the stress and strain, he's going to have to withdraw from his classes, and finish his credits next semester. He also has to move out of the place he's been staying - the apartment he was sharing with his girlfriend - to live with his dad, at least until he begins house-sitting over the winter.
But I started out with secrets... and I suppose one that is half a secret is that this friend has done some harmless flirting and winking with me online - that same sort of banter that happens between two people who've had a bit of a history, and are still good friends. Pretty rare, eh? Here's another thing to think about - when you see advertisements mentioning "no strings attached", you should have a good sense that it's too good to be true. That holds true with affairs as well - there will always be strings, always be some sort of guilt that will come and bite you in the ass later. I know this from my past experiences; that sort of guilt still raises its mournful head in my mind, making everything clench up like a fist. My friend expressed his interest in an NSA relationship; I'm sure he would like that with any of the girls he's been attracted to in the past, but in mentioning it to me, it strikes a particular chord.
For in the past, I would have been interested in one with him.
But the past is the past, and don't you forget it. Those days of open intimacy are over - I imagine that was as close to being a hippie as I could come, being in college and starting to live away from my parents' ideals. These days, I am much more blue-collar - I suppose there's something sad about that, not being as free or creative. But it's made up for the fact that I've found my soulmate, that I wear his ring with pride, that we will have our future together, with no strings necessary, save the ones that tie our hearts together.
I am devoted. I'm sympathetic to my friend's situation, but that particular confession of his has made me nervous. I suppose the distance between us is a good safety measure right now.
He also mentioned a friend of his, which set off a trigger in me. I had hung out with this friend of his from time to time - first met him when he was still happy in a relationship, but later were the times when I was on my own, with Case across the country, and I met up with the guy again. At first things were fine, but he was a psych student, and he tried to psychologically manipulate me into a more intimate situation. That enraged me... and I guess, after a while, I had forgotten, and blocked it out. The mention of his name set off that chilled, emotionless feeling in me - something close to dread, I guess - but I couldn't remember exactly why. After a few minutes, it came clearer to me. I also remembered that when I moved across the country, I had sent friendship invites back to most of the people who I had had issues with... but not this guy.
I looked up his profile and saw that he's in a relationship again. Looking at his open, gregarious face on his profile made me frown - how could such an innocent-looking guy make me feel so uncomfortable? With any luck, I will never encounter him again... or at the very least, I won't encounter him alone. The next time I'm back east, my love will be at my side - and the only way I'd be able to meet the creep would be in the presence of my good friend... and with those two good guys with me, what could go wrong?
After that, we cleaned up most of the common area of the house. The pool table is still covered with boxes, and a lot of Tucker's and Travis' stuff is sitting on the landing at the stairs, but for the most part, things are organized and/or clean.
My contributions - vacuuming the rugs, shaking out the door rug, washing out the cookie jar, consolidating some of Terri's boxes on the pool table, consolidating Audrey's toys into one corner of the living room, opening up the area in front of the fireplace (as the Stark's say, "Winter is Coming"), and dusting off the top of the television (it was a mess!).
Case's contributions - cleaning up most of the kitchen area; doing dishes, sweeping the kitchen floor, cleaning the fryer tray, cleaning countertops, taking out the trash.
Our room is the next target - I already took down most of the dishes, except for the plate I brought up tonight for my Hot Pockets. My little "barrier" between me and the door has mostly been eliminated as well, and a lot of my clothes are clean. However, my half of the desk top is a cluttered mess, as is most of the other flat surfaces in the room, so I imagine that'll be my project. And, of course, the rugs are covered with fragments of sunflower seed shells.
What else? Case broke his chair yesterday, now has two legs of five broken, pretty much useless unless he props it up with something. He's sitting in one of the spare dining room chairs now. Actually, at this very moment he's sleeping on the futon, with Kosmo curled up next to him. I know that as soon as I get in, Kosmo will shift himself and lie down on whichever arm is closest to the middle of the bed, depending on how I'm laying.
In the dark, lit only by my computer screen and a single scented candle, I think about secrets. I think about my conversations with my friend, how he's struggling to maintain some normalcy in his life. Because of the stress and strain, he's going to have to withdraw from his classes, and finish his credits next semester. He also has to move out of the place he's been staying - the apartment he was sharing with his girlfriend - to live with his dad, at least until he begins house-sitting over the winter.
But I started out with secrets... and I suppose one that is half a secret is that this friend has done some harmless flirting and winking with me online - that same sort of banter that happens between two people who've had a bit of a history, and are still good friends. Pretty rare, eh? Here's another thing to think about - when you see advertisements mentioning "no strings attached", you should have a good sense that it's too good to be true. That holds true with affairs as well - there will always be strings, always be some sort of guilt that will come and bite you in the ass later. I know this from my past experiences; that sort of guilt still raises its mournful head in my mind, making everything clench up like a fist. My friend expressed his interest in an NSA relationship; I'm sure he would like that with any of the girls he's been attracted to in the past, but in mentioning it to me, it strikes a particular chord.
For in the past, I would have been interested in one with him.
But the past is the past, and don't you forget it. Those days of open intimacy are over - I imagine that was as close to being a hippie as I could come, being in college and starting to live away from my parents' ideals. These days, I am much more blue-collar - I suppose there's something sad about that, not being as free or creative. But it's made up for the fact that I've found my soulmate, that I wear his ring with pride, that we will have our future together, with no strings necessary, save the ones that tie our hearts together.
I am devoted. I'm sympathetic to my friend's situation, but that particular confession of his has made me nervous. I suppose the distance between us is a good safety measure right now.
He also mentioned a friend of his, which set off a trigger in me. I had hung out with this friend of his from time to time - first met him when he was still happy in a relationship, but later were the times when I was on my own, with Case across the country, and I met up with the guy again. At first things were fine, but he was a psych student, and he tried to psychologically manipulate me into a more intimate situation. That enraged me... and I guess, after a while, I had forgotten, and blocked it out. The mention of his name set off that chilled, emotionless feeling in me - something close to dread, I guess - but I couldn't remember exactly why. After a few minutes, it came clearer to me. I also remembered that when I moved across the country, I had sent friendship invites back to most of the people who I had had issues with... but not this guy.
I looked up his profile and saw that he's in a relationship again. Looking at his open, gregarious face on his profile made me frown - how could such an innocent-looking guy make me feel so uncomfortable? With any luck, I will never encounter him again... or at the very least, I won't encounter him alone. The next time I'm back east, my love will be at my side - and the only way I'd be able to meet the creep would be in the presence of my good friend... and with those two good guys with me, what could go wrong?
Saturday, October 18, 2008
Just Feel Like It
3:30 AM. Across the country, my mom is probably already up and getting ready for work. My uncle with cancer is resting, hopefully without too much pain. My cousins are getting their children ready for school in some cases, daycare in others. My fiance is snoring behind me, having fallen asleep to an episode of Star Trek: Voyager; his dad snores in the master bedroom, loud enough that I can hear it through his door. Outside the small window, Ripley is meowing to be let in off the garage roof - I tell her to bug Travis, because she managed to get on the roof through the hole in his screen, whilst ours is still intact. The letter I sent to my uncle is sitting in the mailbox near the house.
And I still feel like writing. For once in a long while, I feel like writing. I put pieces of my heart into that letter earlier in the afternoon, and was getting choked up near the end. Maybe - just maybe - I can keep in practice. Maybe I can pull myself out of this depressive rut.
Today I found out one of my closest guy friends had his girlfriend of over two years leave him. It was her fault - she told him she doesn't love him anymore, but I know that he still loves her. Part of him hopes that she'll come back, but his better judgment knows that won't be the case. I wish I could give him a hug, but he's all the way across the country. He was telling me about how he wishes he had someone to care about to sleep with (not sexually) in the empty bed; three years ago, that might have been me, but now everything has changed. I still wish I was over there, so I could take him out to tea at Dobra's, or play Smash Bros. Melee with him until our thumbs fell off. Or he and Case and I could talk Star Trek until our heads spun. My friend is holding up well, but he LOVED her, and she left him... it wasn't his fault that she was so screwed up.
When I was younger, I was screwed up too. Not enough to require anti-depressants, or psychiatric help... but I was screwed up. My morals were ambiguous in terms of relationships - basically I was a walking hormone. The second long-term relationship that I left was mostly because I didn't feel an emotional connection with the guy anymore. He was often very clinical, detached... he didn't want to talk things out, even though I knew we were having problems... he didn't want to hear about the problems I felt I was having. I went out searching for men I could connect with on an emotional level - and found plenty... and when I knew I had found someone who suited me better, I talked with my guy one last time, and we broke up for good. It hurt us both - just because he was more emotionally detached didn't mean that he didn't care about me, and I still felt a lot of love for him. But we're both well aware that it was for the best. We had started out as friends, on a much more intellectual level, and that continues to be how we are today. His personality has shaped mine in terms of humor and knowledge (I wouldn't have become such a hard-core gamer without him), but I'm still very emotional. Despite our differences, he was still very glad to see me visiting this past summer, and let me crash on his couch for several days.
My friend's situation isn't going to be so easily remedied. He comforts himself with the agreed fact that there was nothing he could have done to save things - he was himself, and a loving, attentive boyfriend. I'm well aware of how sweet and kind and fun he can be... and how someone would be able to give him up is beyond me. But she did. Her loss. All the plans they may have had once are now thrown into tangles... not sure how it's going to work, except I think she's moved out, and he has to go live with his folks because he can't afford the apartment alone. He'll be commuting an hour or so between classes and home... luckily he got a new car recently, so he should be able to manage it without fear of breakdown.
Goddamn it, I wish I was there. I wish I was back east, so I could be there for the people that really need me. My uncle Burl died - I wasn't there. My uncle Earl is dying - I'm not there. My friend needs a hug - I'm not there. My other friends and my parents miss me - and I'm stuck out in California, in the suburbs, getting pissed off at yappy dogs and car alarms and regular alarms and my work hours being cut. Stuck in this room because there isn't anywhere else to go, no one to hang out with except Case and his family (and his family isn't really my sort of social company), gaming and watching recorded TV and DVDs, trying to get my ass out of debt...
What happened to me? Where did that hopeful, diligent, creative young woman go? All the projects I was working on in college have fallen by the wayside. I've painted a few times, and drawn a few times, but when was the last time I really sang? Or danced? Why can't I find a good job that uses my talents? Why can't I make friends out here, after a year?
The past month or so has really taxed my sanity, I guess. Sickness, death, money issues... sometimes I've almost felt suicidal, wanting to end all the stress... but it's never been so serious. There's still too much hope for my future, for my life with my fiance, and so I heave myself out of another rut and trudge on towards that distant brightness.
One last note - Case has expressed genuine interest at naming one of our daughters B'Elanna. I am the luckiest geek girl ever. :)
And I still feel like writing. For once in a long while, I feel like writing. I put pieces of my heart into that letter earlier in the afternoon, and was getting choked up near the end. Maybe - just maybe - I can keep in practice. Maybe I can pull myself out of this depressive rut.
Today I found out one of my closest guy friends had his girlfriend of over two years leave him. It was her fault - she told him she doesn't love him anymore, but I know that he still loves her. Part of him hopes that she'll come back, but his better judgment knows that won't be the case. I wish I could give him a hug, but he's all the way across the country. He was telling me about how he wishes he had someone to care about to sleep with (not sexually) in the empty bed; three years ago, that might have been me, but now everything has changed. I still wish I was over there, so I could take him out to tea at Dobra's, or play Smash Bros. Melee with him until our thumbs fell off. Or he and Case and I could talk Star Trek until our heads spun. My friend is holding up well, but he LOVED her, and she left him... it wasn't his fault that she was so screwed up.
When I was younger, I was screwed up too. Not enough to require anti-depressants, or psychiatric help... but I was screwed up. My morals were ambiguous in terms of relationships - basically I was a walking hormone. The second long-term relationship that I left was mostly because I didn't feel an emotional connection with the guy anymore. He was often very clinical, detached... he didn't want to talk things out, even though I knew we were having problems... he didn't want to hear about the problems I felt I was having. I went out searching for men I could connect with on an emotional level - and found plenty... and when I knew I had found someone who suited me better, I talked with my guy one last time, and we broke up for good. It hurt us both - just because he was more emotionally detached didn't mean that he didn't care about me, and I still felt a lot of love for him. But we're both well aware that it was for the best. We had started out as friends, on a much more intellectual level, and that continues to be how we are today. His personality has shaped mine in terms of humor and knowledge (I wouldn't have become such a hard-core gamer without him), but I'm still very emotional. Despite our differences, he was still very glad to see me visiting this past summer, and let me crash on his couch for several days.
My friend's situation isn't going to be so easily remedied. He comforts himself with the agreed fact that there was nothing he could have done to save things - he was himself, and a loving, attentive boyfriend. I'm well aware of how sweet and kind and fun he can be... and how someone would be able to give him up is beyond me. But she did. Her loss. All the plans they may have had once are now thrown into tangles... not sure how it's going to work, except I think she's moved out, and he has to go live with his folks because he can't afford the apartment alone. He'll be commuting an hour or so between classes and home... luckily he got a new car recently, so he should be able to manage it without fear of breakdown.
Goddamn it, I wish I was there. I wish I was back east, so I could be there for the people that really need me. My uncle Burl died - I wasn't there. My uncle Earl is dying - I'm not there. My friend needs a hug - I'm not there. My other friends and my parents miss me - and I'm stuck out in California, in the suburbs, getting pissed off at yappy dogs and car alarms and regular alarms and my work hours being cut. Stuck in this room because there isn't anywhere else to go, no one to hang out with except Case and his family (and his family isn't really my sort of social company), gaming and watching recorded TV and DVDs, trying to get my ass out of debt...
What happened to me? Where did that hopeful, diligent, creative young woman go? All the projects I was working on in college have fallen by the wayside. I've painted a few times, and drawn a few times, but when was the last time I really sang? Or danced? Why can't I find a good job that uses my talents? Why can't I make friends out here, after a year?
The past month or so has really taxed my sanity, I guess. Sickness, death, money issues... sometimes I've almost felt suicidal, wanting to end all the stress... but it's never been so serious. There's still too much hope for my future, for my life with my fiance, and so I heave myself out of another rut and trudge on towards that distant brightness.
One last note - Case has expressed genuine interest at naming one of our daughters B'Elanna. I am the luckiest geek girl ever. :)
Monday, February 25, 2008
47
What is it about that number, or numbers in general? With me, it's 8 or 19, with Case and his dad it's 5 and 23 and other combos like that, and then there's 42, the answer to everything. And there's 47.
I'm 23 now. I've been that way for over a month. Case gave me a bouquet of a dozen red roses, as well as the first season of Heroes. I also have my engagement ring and wedding ring. I wear them every day, except when I'm in the lab - I take them off and put them in the little jewel case, then put it in my lab coat pocket, to keep it safe with me. The rings are unique, irreplaceable. They belonged to his paternal grandmother, who let us inherit them on the condition that we pass them on to our daughter, should we have one. Amanda, Leanora, the faces of the future.
I haven't written nearly enough since I left college. The Stephen King project has fallen by the wayside. No new poetry, no new stories, and hardly any new blogs. I don't think this place is very fertile in terms of creativity. I don't feel that inspired here. And hell, I know Case hasn't drawn much since... I don't know, since we met. He and I were going to collaborate on a Dr. Who/Monk crossover, but that fell by the wayside too. He dreamed it, and Griff and I discussed it, but it never went anywhere.
I've started writing again because I saw that Cyrus had written in his blog. I don't check it anymore, but I was looking him up. Not necessarily because I wanted to communicate with him, but to make sure that he still existed. There's a deep-seated fear in me, ever since I last saw him, that I may have done damage beyond any repair... that I'm somehow going to find out from my parents that he committed suicide. Naturally, I would blame myself for being one of the factors. That may be a strange hubris on my part... but I still have the guilt. I usually don't think about it - it doesn't come up in my life that often. But five years ago, I screwed up his life. I tried to write it off in Ladystark's saga - Gretchen Stark, once Gretchen Aquitaine, turned undead, leaving behind her husband, Cyrion Stark. I tried to remember his bitterness in reality, and put it into Cyrion... not very well. I should work on that part, make it richer.
Love and Death change the lives of everyone they touch - in my case, I substituted one for the other, trying to reach a point where I could come to terms. And I almost did. In that written world, I did... but not always here.
My life has changed so much in five years. I would have not seen myself being here. Yet here I am, and will be for another year. I'll have to start taking care of the important things - insurance for my car, health appointments, wireless cards. All those things, and work on my quiet social phobia that keeps me in this room instead of out in the rest of the house, with the family. You can understand why I don't, made it clear in the last entry. But this ring seals them as my extended family, so maybe it's time I start accepting as such, as I did when my cousins got married.
And now, for random 47 facts:
On my birthday in 1947, there was a shipwreck off the coast of Greece that killed 392 people.
On this date (the 25th, when I started writing), the state of Prussia was abolished, and the worst train crash in Japan happened, killing 184 people (and that adds up to 13, if you didn't notice).
In 47 AD, the convert Paul began his evangelical work.
In 2047, in the Star Trek universe, parts of LA will fall into the sea from a horrible earthquake.
There are usually 47 strings on a harp.
47 is the atomic number of silver.
And, of course, the agent from Hitman is #47.
47 goodnights,
Grety
I'm 23 now. I've been that way for over a month. Case gave me a bouquet of a dozen red roses, as well as the first season of Heroes. I also have my engagement ring and wedding ring. I wear them every day, except when I'm in the lab - I take them off and put them in the little jewel case, then put it in my lab coat pocket, to keep it safe with me. The rings are unique, irreplaceable. They belonged to his paternal grandmother, who let us inherit them on the condition that we pass them on to our daughter, should we have one. Amanda, Leanora, the faces of the future.
I haven't written nearly enough since I left college. The Stephen King project has fallen by the wayside. No new poetry, no new stories, and hardly any new blogs. I don't think this place is very fertile in terms of creativity. I don't feel that inspired here. And hell, I know Case hasn't drawn much since... I don't know, since we met. He and I were going to collaborate on a Dr. Who/Monk crossover, but that fell by the wayside too. He dreamed it, and Griff and I discussed it, but it never went anywhere.
I've started writing again because I saw that Cyrus had written in his blog. I don't check it anymore, but I was looking him up. Not necessarily because I wanted to communicate with him, but to make sure that he still existed. There's a deep-seated fear in me, ever since I last saw him, that I may have done damage beyond any repair... that I'm somehow going to find out from my parents that he committed suicide. Naturally, I would blame myself for being one of the factors. That may be a strange hubris on my part... but I still have the guilt. I usually don't think about it - it doesn't come up in my life that often. But five years ago, I screwed up his life. I tried to write it off in Ladystark's saga - Gretchen Stark, once Gretchen Aquitaine, turned undead, leaving behind her husband, Cyrion Stark. I tried to remember his bitterness in reality, and put it into Cyrion... not very well. I should work on that part, make it richer.
Love and Death change the lives of everyone they touch - in my case, I substituted one for the other, trying to reach a point where I could come to terms. And I almost did. In that written world, I did... but not always here.
My life has changed so much in five years. I would have not seen myself being here. Yet here I am, and will be for another year. I'll have to start taking care of the important things - insurance for my car, health appointments, wireless cards. All those things, and work on my quiet social phobia that keeps me in this room instead of out in the rest of the house, with the family. You can understand why I don't, made it clear in the last entry. But this ring seals them as my extended family, so maybe it's time I start accepting as such, as I did when my cousins got married.
And now, for random 47 facts:
On my birthday in 1947, there was a shipwreck off the coast of Greece that killed 392 people.
On this date (the 25th, when I started writing), the state of Prussia was abolished, and the worst train crash in Japan happened, killing 184 people (and that adds up to 13, if you didn't notice).
In 47 AD, the convert Paul began his evangelical work.
In 2047, in the Star Trek universe, parts of LA will fall into the sea from a horrible earthquake.
There are usually 47 strings on a harp.
47 is the atomic number of silver.
And, of course, the agent from Hitman is #47.
47 goodnights,
Grety
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