Well, i went to Hot Topic on the way home and lusted over my coat for a while Yes, actually it does have my name on it. Just because you can't see it doesn't mean it isn't really there. That is why i am the Helinator and you are not. Unfortunately, the visit did not start a rant about money at all. But then, when i got back in the car, what to my wondering ears should appear? "Face to Face" by Se7endust. That worked nicely. Extremely smug and pleased at my reclaimed attitude, i arrived home before dark, intent on letting my inner child out to play for a bit. Black, black and more black. Everything from the skin out. Even put the boots on. I do love black... Earrings. Black roses. But then, i couldn't find the cloak... which pissed me off more, ironically. Even threw stuff and almost broke something. I may have to beat the piss out of the kids now, since the whole rise from the chair and scare the piss out of them kinda needs the damned robe to be effective. Ain't life like that... I mean, i can still freak them, but what's the fun if i can't chase them convincingly. Once again the living dead girl goes unexpressed. The Sickness is back, though, so that's good news. But, i had so wanted to play a little. It'll just have to wait for the next trip to the movie theatre, i guess... Dark is so much fun. It's not just for chocolate anymore. Dragula just came on the player. Time to beat something up. I do love this song... It's so me on a tirade day. "Dead i am the dog - hound of hell you cry - devil on your back - i can never die"
Lucky lucky you. Guess that means you're stuck with me a while.
Monday, October 31, 2005
Happy Holidays
...and all that politically correct crap. If it's your holiday, do it up. If it's your sugar-shock day, watch out for the crash and burn and save me a Milky Way Bar. Nectar of the gods those are... To the non-sugar shock sorts, blessings for the new year. I tend to try to stay blissfully holiday free. Of course, my friends and family and the dear denizens of the Helination each have their own, so it's more a matter of degree. I am drawn in by them. It's all their fault. The food, the presents, the candy, all of it. Not complaining.
However, i do have a bit of a gripe about this particular holiday today. It is Halloween, aka Samhain, depending on your personal predilection, and i am in a good mood. Not the "nice day, let the other guy go at the light" kind of good mood. The giggly, nice to people i don't even really like, caught myself humming kind of good mood. Those of you who know me will understand how this disturbs the Helinator. I do try to be compassionate and all that, but i am just not the bubbly sort. I am making myself nauseous.
What's worse - it's the one night out of the year where it is perfectly acceptable behavior to cloak myself in darkness, let my inner evilness out and scare the piss out of unsuspecting children. How the hell am i gonna do that while humming and giggling to myself and thinking "ah, aren't they cute"? How am i gonna evoke fear that way? I mean, my death look is legendary. Hell, i can scare adults with it. But today? No fire at all. I am screwed! Figures.
I'll just have to go back to the old acting class stuff and try to talk myself down and get back into being my "normal" self by then. Come up with "as ifs" and motivations and all that stuff actor types talk about. And listen to Disturbed. You know, i even tried that already. Listened to The Sickness (the first 8 tracks anyway) and couldn't get inside any of them. Maybe someone will cut me off on the way home and piss me off. More likely, though, i will offer them advice on slowing down so they don't get hurt and send good thoughts at them. Disgusting.
May yours be better than mine.
However, i do have a bit of a gripe about this particular holiday today. It is Halloween, aka Samhain, depending on your personal predilection, and i am in a good mood. Not the "nice day, let the other guy go at the light" kind of good mood. The giggly, nice to people i don't even really like, caught myself humming kind of good mood. Those of you who know me will understand how this disturbs the Helinator. I do try to be compassionate and all that, but i am just not the bubbly sort. I am making myself nauseous.
What's worse - it's the one night out of the year where it is perfectly acceptable behavior to cloak myself in darkness, let my inner evilness out and scare the piss out of unsuspecting children. How the hell am i gonna do that while humming and giggling to myself and thinking "ah, aren't they cute"? How am i gonna evoke fear that way? I mean, my death look is legendary. Hell, i can scare adults with it. But today? No fire at all. I am screwed! Figures.
I'll just have to go back to the old acting class stuff and try to talk myself down and get back into being my "normal" self by then. Come up with "as ifs" and motivations and all that stuff actor types talk about. And listen to Disturbed. You know, i even tried that already. Listened to The Sickness (the first 8 tracks anyway) and couldn't get inside any of them. Maybe someone will cut me off on the way home and piss me off. More likely, though, i will offer them advice on slowing down so they don't get hurt and send good thoughts at them. Disgusting.
May yours be better than mine.
Tuesday, October 18, 2005
Word of the Day: Lock
Say it and i will scream. Loudly.
So, why Tuesday always ends up being my "Monday" is beyond me, but here it is. My car lock was sticking, so i got the old lube spray out, attached the little wand to the nozzle and sprayed the crap out of it. Or, more to the point, into it. When i was extricating the wand thing from the lock, a little piece broke off in the lock. No, i couldn't get it out. So, i took the door apart to take the lock out to bang on it to get the plastic out out. And? The faux screw thing on the backside of the lock broke off as i was unhooking it from the bit that connects the part you turn the key in to the part that moves to unlock the door (yes, i know the terms, but i am making it simpler to follow). So now the two things are no longer connected. Even if i could get the key in, it would do nothing. At that point, getting the plastic out seemed a waste of energy. And then? Oh, yeah, the rain started in again. Put the damn thing back together, went into the house and had a couple of drinks. Hey, it was noon atlantic time. Also listened to loud music. Therapeutic. This afternoon, after it has cleared again (if it clears again), i am moving the dead lock to the passenger's side and the good one to the driver's side. Darn it. The button on the door will still work. Not a problem on the passenger's side if the key doesn't. Annoying on the driver's side, though.
And how was your day??
So, why Tuesday always ends up being my "Monday" is beyond me, but here it is. My car lock was sticking, so i got the old lube spray out, attached the little wand to the nozzle and sprayed the crap out of it. Or, more to the point, into it. When i was extricating the wand thing from the lock, a little piece broke off in the lock. No, i couldn't get it out. So, i took the door apart to take the lock out to bang on it to get the plastic out out. And? The faux screw thing on the backside of the lock broke off as i was unhooking it from the bit that connects the part you turn the key in to the part that moves to unlock the door (yes, i know the terms, but i am making it simpler to follow). So now the two things are no longer connected. Even if i could get the key in, it would do nothing. At that point, getting the plastic out seemed a waste of energy. And then? Oh, yeah, the rain started in again. Put the damn thing back together, went into the house and had a couple of drinks. Hey, it was noon atlantic time. Also listened to loud music. Therapeutic. This afternoon, after it has cleared again (if it clears again), i am moving the dead lock to the passenger's side and the good one to the driver's side. Darn it. The button on the door will still work. Not a problem on the passenger's side if the key doesn't. Annoying on the driver's side, though.
And how was your day??
Friday, October 14, 2005
Observation - National Geographic Edition
How many of you drive on interstates? I'm not talking rush hour stuff, just regular driving where there are other cars around, but everyone can go as fast as they want.
Ok, so next time you are out doing that, think about those National Geographics set on the Serengeti. Cars just moving along, doing whatever, when suddenly one slows up. Danger? The rest of the vehicles start to slow up also and to group themselves together in order to look less conspicuous. Then, they see it. The big cat (cop) pulls out from his hiding place in the deep grass, at first perhaps just acting casual, but already having selected his prey. The cop, perhaps before even putting on his lights and starting the formal chase, begins to move in on the intended victim who, heavily involved in a song on the radio or a conversation, may not have seen the sign that danger was about and may even not yet realize that he is doomed. The cop closes and everyone else groups together more, giving the cat plenty of room. The others are at once apprehensive and empathetic with the one being pursued and very glad it is not them. Then, in a sudden burst of speed, the lights go on, the victim hits the brakes far too late and... then it's all over. The two vehicles are beside the road, stopped. Lights flashing, window down. Another member of the herd taken. The rest pass and stay huddled for a while, in case more of the pride are around. The left lane, closest to the tall grass, is abandoned for now. But then, the sense of danger passes and first one and then another car speeds up and normalcy returns to the interstate.
I bet you never watch other vehicles on the interstate the same way again. You'll start noting how the different species (trucks, cars, motorcycles) interact. Devise a food chain. You won't want to, but you will. I'm contagious that way! Just don't get caught narrating it if you drive alone.
Ok, so next time you are out doing that, think about those National Geographics set on the Serengeti. Cars just moving along, doing whatever, when suddenly one slows up. Danger? The rest of the vehicles start to slow up also and to group themselves together in order to look less conspicuous. Then, they see it. The big cat (cop) pulls out from his hiding place in the deep grass, at first perhaps just acting casual, but already having selected his prey. The cop, perhaps before even putting on his lights and starting the formal chase, begins to move in on the intended victim who, heavily involved in a song on the radio or a conversation, may not have seen the sign that danger was about and may even not yet realize that he is doomed. The cop closes and everyone else groups together more, giving the cat plenty of room. The others are at once apprehensive and empathetic with the one being pursued and very glad it is not them. Then, in a sudden burst of speed, the lights go on, the victim hits the brakes far too late and... then it's all over. The two vehicles are beside the road, stopped. Lights flashing, window down. Another member of the herd taken. The rest pass and stay huddled for a while, in case more of the pride are around. The left lane, closest to the tall grass, is abandoned for now. But then, the sense of danger passes and first one and then another car speeds up and normalcy returns to the interstate.
I bet you never watch other vehicles on the interstate the same way again. You'll start noting how the different species (trucks, cars, motorcycles) interact. Devise a food chain. You won't want to, but you will. I'm contagious that way! Just don't get caught narrating it if you drive alone.
News
Hey, so here ya go with some RL stuff. My little brother got a new car. With the car, he got new plates. All older siblings will enjoy what i have decided to do with them...
It seems the letters in license number (does that sound wrong to you, too?) are DKB. I have officially decided that this is his new nickname. Sort of a wrestler/rapper nick, but also because i have decided that the letters stand for "dumb kid brother." Don't get me wrong. I love him and would take on people much bigger than me defending him. However, he has done so many things to me over the years that it seems only fitting. So, he is now and forever to be referred to as DKB.
Darn it.
I am so glad i am the oldest. Not saying how oldest, but older than him and my sister anyway!
Oh, and i went to a bar-type place last night. Alone as always (ah, the joys of being single), although i talked to a few folks while i was there. Anyway, it was great because finally there was no nasty couple trying to do it on a stool in front of me while conversing in my direction on breaks. I hate that couple. All of them. Get a room and, for the overweight ones, stop wearing tight leather... that's just wrong.
And, for my birthday was last week i got a surprise. A friend got me an autograph from The Ancient. If you don't know, it don't matter, but i do and i think it is cool. Personalized, even. Wrote it for me and all that. What a sweetie. I don't collect that sort of thing, but it's cool. I will keep it with the ones i got from the Dresden Dolls (omg is Brian hot).
Family fun for birthdays (my brother's, my nephew's and mine) this weekend. Somebody get me out of this, please... At least mom bought some of my favorite form of alcohol (Smirnoff Twisted Raspberry currently rocks my world) and my siblings' kids will be around so i can avoid the adults whenever i need to. (no, mom, i am not seeing anyone, not getting married and having no grandchildren... sorry 'bout that and i would rather not discuss your sex life with you) Besides, my brother will be there, so i'll christen him with the new nick and DKB and the Helinator can hold tag-team matches with the kids until it degenerates into a 4 on 2 (they outnumber us) and, after he figures out what the nick means, a him killing me fest. Hopefully at least one of the children will defend me. He's got way more black belts than i do... And i can't suplex him. This could hurt. If he gets me off the ground. Must not let that happen.
It seems the letters in license number (does that sound wrong to you, too?) are DKB. I have officially decided that this is his new nickname. Sort of a wrestler/rapper nick, but also because i have decided that the letters stand for "dumb kid brother." Don't get me wrong. I love him and would take on people much bigger than me defending him. However, he has done so many things to me over the years that it seems only fitting. So, he is now and forever to be referred to as DKB.
Darn it.
I am so glad i am the oldest. Not saying how oldest, but older than him and my sister anyway!
Oh, and i went to a bar-type place last night. Alone as always (ah, the joys of being single), although i talked to a few folks while i was there. Anyway, it was great because finally there was no nasty couple trying to do it on a stool in front of me while conversing in my direction on breaks. I hate that couple. All of them. Get a room and, for the overweight ones, stop wearing tight leather... that's just wrong.
And, for my birthday was last week i got a surprise. A friend got me an autograph from The Ancient. If you don't know, it don't matter, but i do and i think it is cool. Personalized, even. Wrote it for me and all that. What a sweetie. I don't collect that sort of thing, but it's cool. I will keep it with the ones i got from the Dresden Dolls (omg is Brian hot).
Family fun for birthdays (my brother's, my nephew's and mine) this weekend. Somebody get me out of this, please... At least mom bought some of my favorite form of alcohol (Smirnoff Twisted Raspberry currently rocks my world) and my siblings' kids will be around so i can avoid the adults whenever i need to. (no, mom, i am not seeing anyone, not getting married and having no grandchildren... sorry 'bout that and i would rather not discuss your sex life with you) Besides, my brother will be there, so i'll christen him with the new nick and DKB and the Helinator can hold tag-team matches with the kids until it degenerates into a 4 on 2 (they outnumber us) and, after he figures out what the nick means, a him killing me fest. Hopefully at least one of the children will defend me. He's got way more black belts than i do... And i can't suplex him. This could hurt. If he gets me off the ground. Must not let that happen.
Monday, October 10, 2005
News - Run!
So, i took up running at the end of July 'cuz of runner boy and then kept going because (1) i like it, (2) it might help the asthma, (3) cute guys run, and (4) i am so going to beat his times in the 5 and 10 k! Having done the "couch to 5k" thing from cool running, i signed up for my first race. Local fundraiser, so low-key. Should be fun, except that i can't listen to my favorite comedy duo while doing it. 'Cuz it's Business Time (go find the song on their site and laugh). The only problem with running is that i associate running with this... which leads to this and winds up with this(it's all Erica's fault, Sam). Not a huge problem in and of itself, but then for some reason i end up over here. And then i remember the banning. My mom banned that when my brother and i started flying off stuff at each other. We still do sometimes, but only in the pool. Mom and her silly "don't break your brother" rules. Similar to the "don't bleed on my carpet" rule. We do still grapple and do that sort of thing, but throws and such are strictly in the pool of doom now. Especially since mom is now a grandmother and so we have to act all adult and stuff... Boring.
So, if i survive the run on the 22nd, i will let you know how it went. My brother is coming down this weekend. I have to go to the gym now. Just in case...
So, if i survive the run on the 22nd, i will let you know how it went. My brother is coming down this weekend. I have to go to the gym now. Just in case...
Stranger Than - Name Game Edition
I just found out something weird yesterday. I was born on Columbus Day. No, that isn't weird or what i found out. Can't believe you thought my birthday is weird... Well, maybe mine because it's associated with me and i am sometimes... But i digress. What i found out is that my mom had almost decided to name me Christina Columbia in honor of the event. The weird thing is that in my writings (yes, another of those, but my stuff doesn't suck) my protagonist, who was originally loosely based on bits of me, has always, in all her incarnations, been named Christina. I even considered changing my name once because i liked that name better. It suits me, in a way. Now, those who know be by the name i actually got from mom will probably disagree and give reasons why (just don't give out details i am not already sharing - kills the mystique), but to me it just feels less me somehow than Christina.
I haven't told mom about the "almost changed it once" thing, but she found the name of my protagonist really weird. In other words, totally in character with me...
Ain't truth strange?
So, yes, gifties, good wishes, and such things will be accepted with a smile and maybe a hug, if you happen to get close enough. Otherwise, you just get a smile and thanks from the Helinator.
Does your label suit you??
I haven't told mom about the "almost changed it once" thing, but she found the name of my protagonist really weird. In other words, totally in character with me...
Ain't truth strange?
So, yes, gifties, good wishes, and such things will be accepted with a smile and maybe a hug, if you happen to get close enough. Otherwise, you just get a smile and thanks from the Helinator.
Does your label suit you??
Sunday, October 09, 2005
Keen Observation - Karmic Musings
So, yeah, i do believe in karma. What comes around goes around and all that stuff.
In light of that, i have opinions on America's involvement in the Middle East. Mostly negative ones. I don't think that a government that can't afford to make sure that i can get the meds i need for my asthma (or afford a doctor to fill out paperwork to get the pharmaceutical company to give it to me for less/free) has an altruistic bone in its decrepit bloated body. I have worked in human services. I have seen the effects of managed care and cutbacks. But, that is not why i am writing this, or i would have called it a rant. I am just saying that the only reason that those greedy bastards do anything is money. They smell oil and money and in they go. Hell, they can't catch the other guy after the Towers, so they go for someone they can catch and take the emphasis off their impotence. The masses get happier and maybe even cheaper oil in the process.
It seems less ironic and unexpected to me than to some folks that recent natural disasters have affected oil production in this country, raising the price of oil and exacting a cost in loss of life. I had wondered how long it would be before the greedy quest for oil the country is and has been engaged in would catch up with it. Funny thing, karma. If we don't learn the lesson soon and keep repeating the past, things are going to get worse before they get better. That is not my opinion. It's just the way karma works. The more you fight it, the more bad crap you get back. Think you're invinceable and that because you can afford a Hummer you should drive one and the universe will tend to smack you right the hell back down.
Say it any way you want... You reap what you sow, you get what you give, for every action there is a reaction, all causes have effects (and vice versa). No matter how you slice it, greed gets you less.
Get mad at it all you want, but karma is the law. I prefer to learn and move on before the lessons get more painful. I've had enough of the painful ones to last a lifetime or two.
It isn't fatalistic, folks. It actually puts the control/responsibility right in your hands. You want a better future, be better today. Cause and effect.
Thoughts?
In light of that, i have opinions on America's involvement in the Middle East. Mostly negative ones. I don't think that a government that can't afford to make sure that i can get the meds i need for my asthma (or afford a doctor to fill out paperwork to get the pharmaceutical company to give it to me for less/free) has an altruistic bone in its decrepit bloated body. I have worked in human services. I have seen the effects of managed care and cutbacks. But, that is not why i am writing this, or i would have called it a rant. I am just saying that the only reason that those greedy bastards do anything is money. They smell oil and money and in they go. Hell, they can't catch the other guy after the Towers, so they go for someone they can catch and take the emphasis off their impotence. The masses get happier and maybe even cheaper oil in the process.
It seems less ironic and unexpected to me than to some folks that recent natural disasters have affected oil production in this country, raising the price of oil and exacting a cost in loss of life. I had wondered how long it would be before the greedy quest for oil the country is and has been engaged in would catch up with it. Funny thing, karma. If we don't learn the lesson soon and keep repeating the past, things are going to get worse before they get better. That is not my opinion. It's just the way karma works. The more you fight it, the more bad crap you get back. Think you're invinceable and that because you can afford a Hummer you should drive one and the universe will tend to smack you right the hell back down.
Say it any way you want... You reap what you sow, you get what you give, for every action there is a reaction, all causes have effects (and vice versa). No matter how you slice it, greed gets you less.
Get mad at it all you want, but karma is the law. I prefer to learn and move on before the lessons get more painful. I've had enough of the painful ones to last a lifetime or two.
It isn't fatalistic, folks. It actually puts the control/responsibility right in your hands. You want a better future, be better today. Cause and effect.
Thoughts?
Saturday, October 08, 2005
Work Mentality
So, RL kept me away or i would have posted sooner. I work with mentally ill adults, so i figured, why not share some fun stories. My idea of fun after having done this since late 87/early 88 may be different from yours. This one, dear Garter Bearer, involves no carving whatsoever. It was my baptism of sorts. The experience that either makes you run screaming or jump in.
It was an early summer day and i was just a college kid new to all of the fun that is schizophrenics living together and learning to function in the community. One kid of about 17 was especially fun. We'll get to that. It was a Saturday. We decided that anyone who wanted could go with me down to a local beach and have a picnic. Everything was packed and off we went. There were a couple of families already set up and having fun, playing catch and frisbee. Ducks waddled and paddled in the river. Some of the guys were helping me carry the cooler to a table when suddenly the always horny and extremely impulsive 17 yr old went running past us yelling "I'm gonna fuck a duck!" I told everyone else to wait at the table and took off after the boy who was taking off after the ducks. There was a lot of flapping and quacking, he and they were in and out of the water. He almost caught a couple of them. Parents grabbed their children and stopped their ears. I tried to reassure them that he was just having some fun, but i didn't believe that and had visions of the photo in the paper of this guy with a duck stuff to him being our new community relations nightmare. Luckily, a cop happened to hear the yelling and quacking and told duck boy to stop. Even luckier, duck boy heard him and did. We were then escorted back to the van. We settled for a cook-out at the house that day. Duck boy was taken to the hospital by my co-worker and spent a little time there getting his meds adjusted and lectured on socially appropriate behavior. I had a burger and some chips. I still laugh every time someone says "fuck a duck." I got a lot less shy and quiet around the folks after that.
It was an early summer day and i was just a college kid new to all of the fun that is schizophrenics living together and learning to function in the community. One kid of about 17 was especially fun. We'll get to that. It was a Saturday. We decided that anyone who wanted could go with me down to a local beach and have a picnic. Everything was packed and off we went. There were a couple of families already set up and having fun, playing catch and frisbee. Ducks waddled and paddled in the river. Some of the guys were helping me carry the cooler to a table when suddenly the always horny and extremely impulsive 17 yr old went running past us yelling "I'm gonna fuck a duck!" I told everyone else to wait at the table and took off after the boy who was taking off after the ducks. There was a lot of flapping and quacking, he and they were in and out of the water. He almost caught a couple of them. Parents grabbed their children and stopped their ears. I tried to reassure them that he was just having some fun, but i didn't believe that and had visions of the photo in the paper of this guy with a duck stuff to him being our new community relations nightmare. Luckily, a cop happened to hear the yelling and quacking and told duck boy to stop. Even luckier, duck boy heard him and did. We were then escorted back to the van. We settled for a cook-out at the house that day. Duck boy was taken to the hospital by my co-worker and spent a little time there getting his meds adjusted and lectured on socially appropriate behavior. I had a burger and some chips. I still laugh every time someone says "fuck a duck." I got a lot less shy and quiet around the folks after that.
Tuesday, October 04, 2005
Phrases that Confuse Me
Ok, the first one was used by my buddy River yesterday to describe a film. I have heard it many times over the years and still i got nothin'... "Romantic Comedy"
What is that supposed to be? Seriously.
First off, how many romantic moments have you been in where laughter helped? I know the guys know what i am trying to say here. I mean, there are inopportune moments for everything and treating "romantic" like "comedy" is just not going to go well.
Secondly, i have had romances. And, i'm sorry, but most of the time, especially with new relationships, it is more like "romantic trauma" than "romantic comedy" or maybe "romantic emotional roller coaster" would be a better term. There are the great moments when you two are together and the first holding of hands, the first kiss, the first shared joke; you know the moments. But, between those moments, there are the not knowing moments when he's late, he doesn't call the next day, he changes plans because something came up, or when you don't know if he feels the way you do, whether you should call because he didn't call, whether you should casually happen to walk by the place he said he was going with his friends, whether you should google to see if he is actually some sort of horrible person who is just using you...
Guys, i don't know what your roller coaster is, except not being sure how far to go each date so you don't get slapped and walked out on and dealing with all the crap we pull as a result of our roller coasters.
At this point, i am not particularly into the roller coaster. I don't date folks i haven't talked to and done stuff with as friends. Eliminates so many bad options.
But, what is this thing they call "romantic comedy?"
Technical term for "plot line that will never happen for more than 20 minutes at a time anywhere but onscreen, but some chicks will buy it and then bitch when your relationship isn't like that" perhaps. Another evil invention of Hallmark and the florists of the world, no doubt.
Ok, second phrase: "shit eating grin."
Sorry, but if you are doing one, you are not doing the other.
Elaboration seems unnecessary. You get the idea.
Right. So, i am tired. Worked last night and the natives were restless. I work at a group home for mentally ill adults two nights a week and at an apartment program another two nights. Supposedly, they are sleep shifts. I was doing that sort of thing full time (in the evenings, when they are supposed to be awake) until i went back to school - no, actually, to get another totally different degree and get away from this thankless field. "Sleep" in this context is an exaggeration, by the way. We'll get to that. Later. Tired now. Amusing work-related anecdote will have to wait until tomorrow, i am afraid. Unless i get particularly inspired...
What is that supposed to be? Seriously.
First off, how many romantic moments have you been in where laughter helped? I know the guys know what i am trying to say here. I mean, there are inopportune moments for everything and treating "romantic" like "comedy" is just not going to go well.
Secondly, i have had romances. And, i'm sorry, but most of the time, especially with new relationships, it is more like "romantic trauma" than "romantic comedy" or maybe "romantic emotional roller coaster" would be a better term. There are the great moments when you two are together and the first holding of hands, the first kiss, the first shared joke; you know the moments. But, between those moments, there are the not knowing moments when he's late, he doesn't call the next day, he changes plans because something came up, or when you don't know if he feels the way you do, whether you should call because he didn't call, whether you should casually happen to walk by the place he said he was going with his friends, whether you should google to see if he is actually some sort of horrible person who is just using you...
Guys, i don't know what your roller coaster is, except not being sure how far to go each date so you don't get slapped and walked out on and dealing with all the crap we pull as a result of our roller coasters.
At this point, i am not particularly into the roller coaster. I don't date folks i haven't talked to and done stuff with as friends. Eliminates so many bad options.
But, what is this thing they call "romantic comedy?"
Technical term for "plot line that will never happen for more than 20 minutes at a time anywhere but onscreen, but some chicks will buy it and then bitch when your relationship isn't like that" perhaps. Another evil invention of Hallmark and the florists of the world, no doubt.
Ok, second phrase: "shit eating grin."
Sorry, but if you are doing one, you are not doing the other.
Elaboration seems unnecessary. You get the idea.
Right. So, i am tired. Worked last night and the natives were restless. I work at a group home for mentally ill adults two nights a week and at an apartment program another two nights. Supposedly, they are sleep shifts. I was doing that sort of thing full time (in the evenings, when they are supposed to be awake) until i went back to school - no, actually, to get another totally different degree and get away from this thankless field. "Sleep" in this context is an exaggeration, by the way. We'll get to that. Later. Tired now. Amusing work-related anecdote will have to wait until tomorrow, i am afraid. Unless i get particularly inspired...
Monday, October 03, 2005
Larry's Tale (from the "Stranger Than" files)
This happened a few days after the actual 30th birthday, but it still counts. 'Cuz i say so. Darn it. So, i was in the apartment my husband of 14 months, Larry, and i had been living in for about a year. He asked about my car and asked about a man fitting Larry's description. This man had been soliciting men in the park (offering to "do" them, more specifically)... Um... Well, he had been struggling since his 10-year-old daughter had died a few months earlier and had become distant and started drinking... But, i had gotten him into therapy and he seemed to be getting better. However, he always had been better at coordinating his outfits than me and we hadn't had sex in a long time. I had just thought that, well, whatever i had thought was obviously wrong. So, i told the officer that it sounded like Larry and explained he was working until 11. The officer decided that they would speak with him and arrest him at home the next morning and i was told not to say a word to him. So, i got ready for work myself, avoided answering the phone and then went to do my shift. He called me at work after he got home (i was working overnight) and i did my best to small talk. I went to my mom's after work to avoid the arrest. We talked, i refused to bail him out so he would not act on any suicidal impulses and so he would stay sober for a while (he'd been up to about a case of bottles a night). He was sentenced to rehab and we were divorced by the first week of December. He had to figure stuff out that he couldn't decide when married. Last i knew, he was living with a guy and working in a halfway house. I sold the ring set to pay for the divorce and some karate lessons. And that was what happened when i turned 30.
Suddenly yours doesn't seem so bad, does it?
Wait till you hear about my freshman year college roommate!
Suddenly yours doesn't seem so bad, does it?
Wait till you hear about my freshman year college roommate!
Dresden Dolls Song of the Day
Ah, yes, another of those days... Today's song is Good Day. No audio. Your loss. Great song. She nails it with that nasty dark humor i am known for.
Anyway, so got the check from the mom today, so that's why the song is in my head. Cleaned my car inside and out listening to that album. Free therapy is always good and that album is just... well, oddly resonant with me.
I sent an email to the mom to tell her it arrived and then lost my temper and was not so diplomatic in the "get you and your son into therapy, you over-involved enabling idiot... he is obviously way too screwed up for you to handle..." Words to that effect that sounded less psycho. Done now. Better now.
A good day. Darn it. Moving on.
In other news, the
How much would you pay for a blog like this?
But wait - there's more!
I'll get into some of the sick and twisted, nasty but humorous tales from work and rant about a couple of my favorite oxymorons before tomorrow is over.
That's right, folks, like the sign says, news, views, humor and stranger than fiction reality reading...
Now how much would you pay?
What do you mean "nothing"??
Good thing it's free, then!
Sunday, October 02, 2005
The Garter Bearer's Tale
A fairly accurate account (he can correct me if he so chooses) of the night he earned the nick...
I had qualified to win a trip to see U2 in California from a local radio station, so i headed on down to the appointed bar where the winner would be named after class (went back to college... what was i thinking? We'll get to that sometime, too,). I was by myself, like always. *sniff*
I didn't drink, first off cuz i hadn't had my "ah, what the fuck, just do it" moment which ended 10 years of not drinking (no, i am not, i just had some bad times with those who are... i just got sick of those moments deciding what i do now... we'll get there, too) and second off cuz i had to drive home after. I had had 2 midterms that day, so i was ready for some loud music and fun.
I don't know why, but the fat, biker wanna be, nasty, get a room couple always ends up next to me at these things. Even if i move to avoid them. Tonight, no exception. Fat folks should not wear leather pants. 'nuf said. So, they are all over each other and, when they come up for air, try to get me to talk to them. Lovely. Flirting with me. *shudder* don't even want to think about what they were thinking...
The djs officially start things off and i am saved for a bit.
First off, loud music and random dancing.
Then, they bring the music down and have a couple of rounds of a drinking contest where the object is to beat your opponent 2 out of 3 times drinking beer out of sippy cups. Boy did they get wasted fast!
Brief return to music (cue nasty couple to my right to start in again) and a really drunken boy "dancing," and i am using that term in the loosest possible sense of interpretive dance that could be done to System of a Down sense... who nearly kicks me in the head.
So, they bring down the music again and start calling out names of finalists.
"If we call your name, you're a loser..." (various drunken Jim Carrey comments and imitations from the crowd)
Several names later, the music comes back up and the really disgusting, get a room, way too much alcohol couple next to me starts in again... (ew)
Then back to the drawing. (about time!)
We have thirteen names left. (one of my lucky numbers!)
not-me gets called eight times...
Ok, the last 5 get up on stage.
Short intro's...
Two more "not-me's" go bye-bye.
Who's the bigger fan questions...
I won that. (duh - they aren't my favorite of all time or anything, but i was way into them for a while)
Another one bites the dust.
Then there were two.
Then... the djs dressed us up in big floppy sparkly green hats, beads, buttons, and the Garter Bearer puts a garter on my left leg (the guy looked odd in a garter, gotta say)... You get the idea. Pictures start being taken...
Then, not-he is called (that would be me). *sigh*
The Name Caller feels terrible that i didn't win, i give the winner a handshake, the Garter Bearer consoles me, and i get more pictures taken as i get given my stuff and the big winner gets his stuff.
And, no, i am not posting the photos. I take bad photos.
But i still have the garter... just in case.
You never know...
I had qualified to win a trip to see U2 in California from a local radio station, so i headed on down to the appointed bar where the winner would be named after class (went back to college... what was i thinking? We'll get to that sometime, too,). I was by myself, like always. *sniff*
I didn't drink, first off cuz i hadn't had my "ah, what the fuck, just do it" moment which ended 10 years of not drinking (no, i am not, i just had some bad times with those who are... i just got sick of those moments deciding what i do now... we'll get there, too) and second off cuz i had to drive home after. I had had 2 midterms that day, so i was ready for some loud music and fun.
I don't know why, but the fat, biker wanna be, nasty, get a room couple always ends up next to me at these things. Even if i move to avoid them. Tonight, no exception. Fat folks should not wear leather pants. 'nuf said. So, they are all over each other and, when they come up for air, try to get me to talk to them. Lovely. Flirting with me. *shudder* don't even want to think about what they were thinking...
The djs officially start things off and i am saved for a bit.
First off, loud music and random dancing.
Then, they bring the music down and have a couple of rounds of a drinking contest where the object is to beat your opponent 2 out of 3 times drinking beer out of sippy cups. Boy did they get wasted fast!
Brief return to music (cue nasty couple to my right to start in again) and a really drunken boy "dancing," and i am using that term in the loosest possible sense of interpretive dance that could be done to System of a Down sense... who nearly kicks me in the head.
So, they bring down the music again and start calling out names of finalists.
"If we call your name, you're a loser..." (various drunken Jim Carrey comments and imitations from the crowd)
Several names later, the music comes back up and the really disgusting, get a room, way too much alcohol couple next to me starts in again... (ew)
Then back to the drawing. (about time!)
We have thirteen names left. (one of my lucky numbers!)
not-me gets called eight times...
Ok, the last 5 get up on stage.
Short intro's...
Two more "not-me's" go bye-bye.
Who's the bigger fan questions...
I won that. (duh - they aren't my favorite of all time or anything, but i was way into them for a while)
Another one bites the dust.
Then there were two.
Then... the djs dressed us up in big floppy sparkly green hats, beads, buttons, and the Garter Bearer puts a garter on my left leg (the guy looked odd in a garter, gotta say)... You get the idea. Pictures start being taken...
Then, not-he is called (that would be me). *sigh*
The Name Caller feels terrible that i didn't win, i give the winner a handshake, the Garter Bearer consoles me, and i get more pictures taken as i get given my stuff and the big winner gets his stuff.
And, no, i am not posting the photos. I take bad photos.
But i still have the garter... just in case.
You never know...
Saturday, October 01, 2005
Question of Some Import
I don't know the answer to this one....
Is the intolerance of intolerance tolerance?
I don't think so, but where is that line anyway... I mean, when does stating opinion and defending rights stop being the advocation of tolerance and become as hate-filled as those the "tolerance" folks are opposing?
Thoughts?
Is the intolerance of intolerance tolerance?
I don't think so, but where is that line anyway... I mean, when does stating opinion and defending rights stop being the advocation of tolerance and become as hate-filled as those the "tolerance" folks are opposing?
Thoughts?
Stranger Than... Switch Edition
True story.
Now, picture this...
My brother is driving down a road in the middle of nowhere listening to the radio (with wife and daughter who confirm the story). The story is as told by him. This song starts and suddenly, a fat bird with long skinny legs steps into the road. Slam brakes. Wait. Bird very casually crosses the road... But wait, there's more! The bird is walking by stepping with its left leg across its right. Legs stop. Head and neck stop. Body rocks back and forth 4 times (in perfect time to the music). Repeat with the right leg crossing over the left leg . Damn thing is walking scissor-legged, stopping its legs and then waiting for its body to stop. For the entire length of the song. In time to the music. Funniest damn thing... (better with me attempting to imitate it)
Like a demented version of the Wizard of Oz where they are all walking that way down the yellow brick road.
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