badrabbyt

wellnow.

i am my own personal hero at the moment. i have moments, y'all, where i'm my own hero for like, a week. which is forever, in my warped sense of time. i have slept like the dead since tuesday.

did a certain sea serpent club me on the head, as per request? no. i bought a new pillow.

that's it.

okay, it's a verra swank pillow. it cost around $40. and so far, it's worth every damn penny. i went to one of those bed and linen storefronts, and got myself to the pillow department. right after i stopped and smelled the candles (yeah, one hopped in my basket. i love that midsummer night candle that one company makes). and i read the bags and boxes, looking for the most sincere pillow. kind of like the most sincere pumpkin patch linus was always looking for in the peanuts' halloween special. did you know they make pillows that are supposed to help with your allergies? and anti-bacterial pillows? i can't make that up. anyway, they're all uber-soft. which is fine, but i need a firm pillow. stop laughing.

so, i get to the temper-pedic stuff. you know, the swedish foam they make beds out of? it's like NASA approved, or somesuch? they want a hunnert bucks for a pillow. and they smell funny. but next to those? some contoured pillows. made of foam and velour. that are on sale. so, i bought one. got it home and took it for a test drive. very comfy.

i love that it came in a box. a pillow in a box. it's embarassing. what was even worse was, on the back? they have sizes of pillows for different people. like, if you weigh ABC and are XYZ tall, you need the super contoured velour goodness. if i were sensitive about my weight, i'd be uncomfortable with having to buy, you know, the husky size in pillow. it kind of made me laugh. i got the average size, and i like it just fine.

oh, man. i'm in love with this pillow. i may have to go steady with it.

in other news, my camera hasn't shipped, and i totally want to play with it. i especially want to press all the buttons before i leave for hawaii. i didn't get to take my second exam on wednesday, because they closed my school because of a bomb threat. seriously. i was even questioned by the po-po (because i'm a tard, apparently. and i still made moi check on the innernets to see if the school was really closed). what the hell is going on in this country? why are we idiots? and why are applications to carry a concealed weapon increasing?

it's making me twitch. but at least i'm well-rested. thanks for stopping by.

so... i was driving to work tuesday evening, and i heard that safety dance song on the radio. now, maybe you don't remember it. maybe you never heard it. maybe you were too stoned at the time. whatever. i thought about the video for the song, and i seem to recall some kind of old-timey fair. and a midget. the midget was crucial, somehow. anyway, there was (der) dancing, and singing. i don't recall there being a jester, but these guys say otherwise.

that song was followed by that "i can't drive 55" thinger. no interest in that, sorry.

this did get me to thinking. originally, i was thinking that "safety dance" was by thomas dolby, but of course that's incorrect. he did "she blinded me with science" which remids me of the movie weird science. now, that's a classic. i mean, where else did you get to see anthony michael hall with a bra on his head? uh... maybe at the afterparty, i guess.

but movies from the '80s are priceless. i mean, hysterical. when i say classic, i don't mean classic, like casablanca classic. it's more of... well. ever bought a weird al yancovic album? yeah. that's good times. just goofy funny, is what i mean. and, if you're like me at all - and some of you are - you're not afraid to admit to liking them. the weird al music or the '80s movies.

(have you noticed how much i love the wikipedia?)

i mean, not every single movie put out in that decade was gold. but the ones i saw? mostly funny, although the creepshow movies were fabulous and icky. i was in grade school in those days, and on saturdays we would get to go to the mall. this was when i lived in anaheim, california. kids didn't really play outside in our neighborhood, and i imagine they still don't. it's always been gangland. and so close to disneyland!

anyway.

so, my friends and i would either take the bus to some random mall and watch a movie, or ride our bikes along this one aqeduct area to another movie haus. going to the mall was a bit more fun, as it gave us a chance to stare at cute high school boys, along with having our self-esteem sucked out of our bodies by teen magazines. oh yeah, and the high school girls. i swear, they all looked like madonna in desperately seeking susan. they were so pretty, and we kinda loved and hated them. but dude - ten bucks would entertain you for the whole day. movie, popcorn, magazine, and a ginormous soda. and you still had change for the bus ride home. or, if i went with my friend gaby, whose dad hated her riding the bus, change was used on the photobooth for pictures that never turned out. ever. not once.

or we threw pennies at someone that offended us for whatever reason.

in the little neighborhood we lived in, we had our choice of three malls, if i remember correctly. one in buena park, one in anaheim, and i forget the third one. but it was pretty lame, so we never went unless parents were taking us, and staying with us. usually, we went to the buena park mall. now, currently i hate malls. you can't pay me to go in one of those buildings. although z dog loves the shirts at this one mall store, so sometimes i'll brave the stale air for him. but in general - hell no. not for a date with the crush. but back then, it was a safe place to be. we always went in pairs or groups. we never 'ditched' each other for long (that's where you pick on one kid in your crowd, and ran away from them until they cried. oh yeah - i can hear you telling me how mean i am. like you never did it. liars), and we made sure to have a meeting place picked out in case we got separated. at the very least, there was no getting shot at. unlike hanging out in our own front yards (not kidding about that. rough neighborhood).

our favorite was the buena park mall. it was HUGE. at least, to us. and they had an organ store. i loved the organ store. i didn't know how to play or anything, but they always had that guy on saturdays, whipping out show tunes of whatever on the hammond organ. yeah, i'm pretty sure it was a hammond. the buena park mall was especially great by the time we were in junior high. knotts berry farm was literally across the street. and yeah, it's not the happiest place on earth. but disneyland charged, like, $20 for kids (i'm sure it's much higher now). knotts charged $18, i think. which isn't that big a difference, but knotts did this great and cool thing. one person paid full price, and the other got in free. so, you and your buddy pay $9 apiece and you're in. it seemed bigger than disneyland, but i'm sure that's not right. plus, our junior high (south junior high, home of the eagles. our colors were red, white, and blue. because it was gang territory, they had to keep it simple) gave out free passes for good grades. and since i was a nerd, even then, i always had at least three passes.

i still remember going on halloween night with my best friend casey vosar, and having some guy dressed as some ghoulish hilbilly offer to "pick your nose for a nickle." this was when they had just put in the bigfoot rapids, as we were soaked by the time we called my dad to pick us up.

wow. safety dance. memories. and i was just going to make fun of prince and that one movie, summer school. thanks for stopping by.

ugh. i was gonna title this "just shoot me", but... well. all the school shootings recently. you know. i don't write about things like that, but i do try to be sensitive. so, just club me. thanks.

had exam one of two on monday. it kinda sucked. i've been so exhausted lately, and for no real good reason. i've had a hard time caring about school since this term started. and i've had a hard time sleeping. again.

since i don't know how many of you are regulars here (i mean, i know how many of you return for more nutjobbery, but that's the extent of my powers), i'll recap briefly. i work nights, which is a situation i hope to rectify sometime after the school term ends. it may mean leaving my department, which is kinda pointless, considering wherever i go is temporary until i finish school. so, anyway - nights. i work the part of the day most of you are asleep. and i've had insomnia since i was 17. i kinda know why - it's a traumatic event, like everything else in my screwy little world - but it doesn't make it easier to deal with. now, i go through months where i don't have problems with sleeping. sometimes, in the winter months, i get 12 hours of sleep a day. which is lovely for the disposition, lemme tell you. but, since march? i get 1-3 hours of sleep a day. maybe 5 hours a day on the weekends. my doctor does not want to prescribe sleeping pills, and i do not want a prescription for said sleeping pills. she did tell me to take melatonin, which did absolute bupkiss for me. i've been taking valerian root for the last two years, and until recently it has more or less helped. i still would have sleepless days, but they were less frequent. now... well. i'm tired.

i really want to sleep. and i can't. it's very frustrating. i told cecil eariler that i would be much obliged if he would just whack me on the head and put me to bed when he gets back into town. he thinks i need to snuggle with someone other than my cat.

jesus. men. i do not snuggle the cat. she snores. and she's pointy.

so, anyway... i'm sure i have a bit to talk about, but i just can't get my brain out of this fog. i really dread the possibility of having to take sleeping pills. largely, because they're a depressant. which is a general statement, but i'm making a point. i'm already on an anti-anxiety drug (to keep my heart inside my ribcage), which is a mild depressant. i already have low blood pressure, and these things make it even lower. the fear is my heart will slow or stop in my sleep. not the worst way to die. but i still have knitting projects to finish.

i'm not looking for sympathy. i'm just looking for a nap. where i sleep for more than 90 minutes.

anyway, thanks for stopping by. i really will be funnier in a few days. right after i'm clubbed. whenever you're ready, cecil.

okay... so, to anyone that has said "happy birthday" to me in the last two weeks: thanks. i know it was a bit confusing, me saying my birthday was on the 21st and it actually being, you know, on the 21st. but hey! i'm glad you remembered!

and if you didn't, well... a pox on your firstborn. buy me something shiny. then, as usual, i'll forget what we were talking about.

my gramma is awesome. usually she sends me a card, and we try to coordinate schedules so i can see her the next time she's in town (she drives into portland about once a month to "see the girls," as it were) (her posse she worked with back in the day at union pacific). this time, i knew it would be a looong while before i got to see her again - she's a kick in the pants, and i love her dearly - so i was thrilled she sent a card. i was even a little more thrilled to see that she'd sent me money. i called and asked if she was trying to buy my love, and she said, "of course." this is why she's awesome - her sarcasm knows no bounds. she said she talked to my dad, and he said i was fixin' to buy a new digital camera before the summer. so, she sent me funds to help with that. after i finish this wildly thrilling post (yes, i know it's fluff and filler - i have exams this week, and i'm not inclined to delve into anything real for a few more days. sorry), i'm buying my little camera from the online. because the one i want is $100 cheaper than the exact one at the store down the street from my house.

anyway... blah blah blah. i'm alive, i don't have cancer today (woot!) (hey, whenever you're having a crappy day, just remind yourself that you don't have cancer. unless you do have cancer, in which case... dude, i'm sorry. i've been there, it sucks, kick its scrawny punk ass), and i'm 31. i honestly never expected to live this long, so i'm totally excited. which is weird, yes. but cool.

so, thanks for stopping by. here's to long shots!

the thing is, with my cell phone? i can only receive text messages that are 160 characters or less. that includes spaces and punctuation. yeah, i know it's kinda lame. getting a new phone in september. i don't recommend the LG's. i think that stands for lick gonads, or somesuch.

anyway.

i text frequently. i work nights, and i don't get great reception where i work. there are pockets of good reception, but in general... not so much. so, i've had whole conversations via the text. and, well... you learn to distill your point into 160 characters. or less. because otherwise, my phone freezes up, and i lose a bunch of stuff. it's an issue.

not changing the subject, exactly... i have this friend. her name isn't z. i mean, that's what i call her, but that's not her name. and recently, she pissed me off. see, there was this birthday dinner for me, held on a recent wednesday (the actual day of my birth, if you need to write it down or something, is april 21st. yeah - for those of you in the UK, you know that as queen elizabeth II's birthday. she's exactly 50 years older than i am. happy birthday, queenie. moving on). and i told z ahead of time - look, we're celebrating now, because it's convienent and all, and i want you to come. she says yes. so, tuesday rolls around, and i just mention that the dinner thingy is the next day. and she says - oh, i can't go, i need to save money instead of spend it, blah blah blah. i say - you know, it's for my birthday, and i'm not celebrating on the actual day (LIE! but we'll maybe get to that), so this is it. take it or leave it. so then z says she'll go. maybe. argh.

she goes to dinner. she says not much. she tells me later she didn't have a good time. christ.

so, then i decide i need a pedicure. i've had exactly one in my whole life, and it sucked. the guy was rude and mean. this is my present to myself. moi is in town and available, as is YMCrae. i tell z - hey, girls' afternoon, we're going to get pedicures, i know you're saving money but i wanted to ask if you wanted to go. because, even though i put on this air of being an uncaring bitch, i'm really not. i even offer to pay for her pedicure. she says - no thanks, but you gals have fun. moi and i are talking around and with z, trying to get our plans straight, and z keeps saying - oh, i don't know if i want to go, i really shouldn't. and i say, a few times - it's okay if you don't want to. finally, she decides to go with us. she has a great time getting the pedicure. her toes are darn purty. the girl drew a damn flower, freehand y'all, on her big toe. and added some kind of crystal. i opted for a french pedicure (no one wanted to draw a rabbyt on my big toe), which the lady also did freehand. i'm totally going back there. it was a great experience.

in a parking lot on the way back to the house, she says it was a good pedicure, but she didn't really have a good time. jesus.

so, i'm getting a little pissed. i get the feeling that she doesn't like my other friends. she complains that i don't bring my peeps around to the rabbyt hutch, and then she bitches when she doesn't have fun with the ones i do bring round. it's not my fault that she's less kind than the spanish inquisition when it comes to new people in my life. she has a reason to be protective, and i appreciate that she's protective. but... well. this is why i don't talk about cecil and the crush near her anymore. i don't need a voice outside of my head tell me how badly i'm screwing things up.

so.

i tell her i have plans with YMCrae (which change every minute, in a good way) on this coming friday night. she asks what i'm doing saturday, and i say i might be going out, i don't know yet. she whines about not being invited to whatever the hell we're doing friday (seriously - i love her, but she actually whined), so i ask YMCrae - who loves z like nobody's business - if she can be included. she says - hell yeah! at which point, z tells me she may leave town for the weekend.

uh...

oh! after i tell her i kind of have plans, she says she wants to do something for my birthday. i tell her that's why we went out to dinner and got pedicures when everyone else was available. so, z says - hey, let's take a road trip. we can leave friday and come back sunday! i ask - who's going to watch z dog, and what about my plans for the weekend, and what about you saving money? she says - well, yeah. but we should go.

so, since i won't leave town with her, she says she's taking z dog to see zima in california. after YMCrae is all excited to see z. then - by the way, this is all in the space of two hours - she decides she's not going anywhere. end of story. she may not even want to hang out with YMCrae and i. i bet money she'll find a reason not to go.

at least i have a nice pedicure.

now, i love z. i don't want any of you to misunderstand. i would take a bullet in the ass for her. but... well, i don't like being jerked around. and when other people are involved, it makes me look like an idiot. z has issues, but she pretends she doesn't.

i wish i could tell her, in 160 charaters or less, that i love her and she's my friend, but she can't treat people like this. and i wish she could say back... well, i don't know what. but i wish her reasons for being this person didn't start with her explanations of how other people treat her. i don't know how to explain that. um... instead of saying she just doesn't like something, she'll say - oh, dude (her husband-type) will totally get mad about me doing this, so i shouldn't do it. is that called displacement? i think maybe it is. it's a coping mechanism.

a coping mechanism that doesn't fit in 160 characters. especially if you include the spaces and punctuation.

but thanks for stopping by.

seriously, y'all don't know.

you can't guess at how happy this makes me. dude, that is a rounded sock toe. rounded. like that high-class junk they gots in the stores. you know i sent that picture to cecil, just to rub it in. he's not here to witness my round-toe action.

i may be a dork.

so, okay. i used to be the anti-knitted sock gal, but things have changed. socks are a good travel-size, provided you're not trying to get through security at the airport. and my other projects are not of a portable variety. but this fits in my bookbag, i take it to school and work, and i only work on it away from the house. and this is my... uh... seventh sock ever, first in the fourth pair ever. and i'm designing it myself. which means... yeah. i don't know what-all i did. i mean, i kinda know, but this'll teach me to not make notes. i started it's twin brother (it's a manly colorway, so they're evil boy twins) last night, and i'll be working that heel before this weekend. workin' it, i say.

now i know i'm a dork. i'm using sock humor. only the yarn harlot does that sort of thing. she's not a dork, by the way. and she's coming in june. i plan to represent. and maybe have a sock. i already have some books for her to sign. provided i can work up the nerve to talk to her.

sheesh.

the full sock monty. seriously, is there something wrong with the air in here? i'm giggling my ass off. that pciture is totally wack. but it is self-striping yarn, and it is a wavy-ish pattern in a manly colorway.

new yarn. or, new-ish. i don't know what it's going to be just yet, but it's sock yarn. so, it's either socks or gloves/ gauntlets. it's kinda more vibrant that the picture shows. due to the weird-ass weather (it's heading quickly toward may, and it goddamn hailed today), i've had to take pictures indoors, using white paper in a plastic slipcover. i've no idea why i didn't just take the damn slipcover off. or get a white towel. but there it is.

people, i have a problem. it's an addiction, and i am powerless over it. but this? this is going to be monkey, i think. maybe. i'll know more when i wind them bitches up. if this is self-striping yarn, it may not work. i don't know why, but i'm starting to dislike patterns that involve the self striping yarn. it seems like two fabulous elements are competing. and these are just socks. they're inside my shoes. there should be no battle there. anyway... all this super-soft and purty yarn makes me wanna roll around nekkid in it.

there will be no pictures of that. you're welcome.

moving on - did i mention the skirt lately?

this skirt? the one i knitted, ripped back because i screwed up royally, and finally finished re-knitting? the one with horizontal stripes for visual enlargement of my already ample-enough-thank-you-verra-much arse? the wool skirt i finished just in time for spring?

yeah, that one. it's done. the floor wears it well.

now, i was up in ne portland sometime within the last month or so (well, it's true), and i noticed all these damn bunnies. most of them are spray painted on various walls and what-have-you, but this one

was on a tile in front of a children's-related whatsit. after getting an herbal chai - now, lemme pause for a moment. i love the chai. love it. and normally, i get iced chai of the oregon chai variety. this time, i got me one of them there herbal chai's (i hear some people dig it when i talk like a hick, so there you have that) (and i know damn well that this isn't really talking, but until i start doing an interpretive performance of my blog, this is the best you'll be getting). and... well...

i don't recommend it. but back to the bunnies.

so, the damn rabbits. sprayed everywhere. i don't know why. however, i do believe that this is some sort of sign that, when i'm ready to buy my own personal rabbyt hutch, i should do it in this area. you know, just sayin'.

and finally, this week's gratuitious pussy shot:

she looks like she's saying something like, "we are NOT amused. take down those pictures of us licking our bums, and create some bacon." or, you know... she's got gas. whichever.

thanks for stopping by.

okay, so... it was pointed out to me a few days ago ('sup, g man?) that i haven't talked about the crush or what i'm doing to ruin my chances with him. and... well... i have no news to report. because i'm a loser.

not looking for sympathy, really. just saying.

so, here's what i did. i told him this really retarded story via email, and then i ended it by saying, "we should hang out sometime; i'm not a crazy stalker." which means my balls are huge, and my inbox is empty. because, really - would you respond to an email like that? some random girl you keep seeing out and about, who seems to have an issue (oh, don't get me started, for i am the queen of issues) with talking to you, and she sends you these frequent flirtatious messages? and then she says, oh we should hang out, because i'm not as creepy as all that?

this is the thing, people. i'm not a creepy person. i'm goofy, i have social anxieties, i apparently stress out about everything. i'm funny, i'm sweet (no matter what capt clydesdale says), and i'm a dork. a dork that reads, knits and has this thing about music. in general, i'm a good(ish) person. i think. maybe. but i'm pretty sure i don't come across that way to the crush. maybe i appear sweet, maybe i appear desperate. i have no idea, because he doesn't tell me. argh. it's so frustrating. and i know there's a fine line between being persistent, and being annoying. between being sweet, and being desperate. between... well, you get the idea.

and really, when it comes right down to it? i don't know what i want. there are times when i want to be a girlfriend, and there are times when i want to be single forever. i know all this is normal. and i wish there were some way to project that, if i'm not doing it already. i don't want to be the crush's girlfriend. i'd like to be his friend. because, well... he could be an evil bastard, and i wouldn't see it because of these rose-tinted glasses i've got glued to my head. but i want to find out. i want to know more. and maybe he's just passive, or scared. or he's got the wrong idea. or... well, i don't know because he doesn't tell me jack crap. it's... so... frustrating.

maybe i'm not ready for all of this. and maybe i wear that on my sleeve and don't even know it. maybe i'm completely wrong for him, and he doesn't have the heart to tell me. whatever. i don't mind telling the entire interweb that relationships scare me. i've been hurt enough times, and we've gone over this quite a few times, and the fact that i keep bringing it up... well. it's a shield, i think. which tells me that i'm throwing up walls and i don't even know it. i was talking to moi a few days ago, and i said something about an interaction i had with the crush last year. and i'm just now realizing that, at the time, he was suggesting that maybe we could hang out later that night. and i was completely not aware. so, maybe i blew my chance and i didn't even know it.

and maybe, just maybe? i overuse the word maybe. you know, maybe.

sigh. hey, crush. if you read this? and you know who you are? whoopsie. come on, now. be a sport and write back. i kinda think you want to. but it's all so weird. i know it's weird. i feel funny using the computer to make human connections. but it's all i got right now. and if you don't mind being seen with a complete dork... well, i promise not to knit in front of you. at least, not at first. but i will say - we have a mutual acquaintance that thinks i'm cute. and nice. and i think that should count for something.

anyway.

in less happy news, the following have died in the last week - kurt vonnegut, jr, don ho, and moi's dog casey. i'm sad about all three. i mean - don ho? i was totally looking forward to having my picture taken with the guy. i guess i'll have to settle for his tombstone. which is so very morbid.

oh, and i promised to send moi some poop in a box. you know, for condolece purposes. uh... it's a long story.

thanks for stopping by.

You Are 56% Abnormal

You are at medium risk for being a psychopath. It is somewhat likely that you have no soul. You are at high risk for having a borderline personality. It is very likely that you are a chaotic mess. You are at medium risk for having a narcissistic personality. It is somewhat likely that you are in love with your own reflection. You are at medium risk for having a social phobia. It is somewhat likely that you feel most comfortable in your mom's basement. You are at medium risk for obsessive compulsive disorder. It is somewhat likely that you are addicted to hand sanitizer.

uh... should i be concerned?

and, by the way... i didn't go on hiatus, i just had a minor bowel issue. mocking myself via the interweb will continue tomorrow. possibly.

those eyes are freaking me out. thanks for stopping by. buy stock in purell.

you know those emails. i get an asston of them. the ones, usually from people you don't talk to that often, that are forwards that have been sent to all and sundry. they usually have little animated kittens, or roses, or - god help me - angels. the really classy ones have cartoon animals that show you their heinie. the text is something like, "a friend does abc, but a true friend does xyz." the more asnine the text, the more they're loaded with MPEGs and GIFs.

now, before y'all think of me as some old heartless bitch (i am many things, but heartless is not one of them), i believe in friendship. i am a firm believer in sending an email or text message that just says, "hi. i like you. i'm thinking of you." what i don't believe in is the group text. the batch email. the impersonal card that says nice things, but the only thing that proves a human touched it is the signature. doesn't that piss you off? you get a card in the mail, right? say, for your birthday or something. and it says something nice. and the person that sent it to you? all they added was their name. i buy cards, yes. i try to buy cards that make me pee my pants with laughter. and then i try to add to them. on occasion, i've agonized for weeks over what i would write. it's important to me that a person feels like a person, and not an obligation. which has little to do with those rancid batch emails, but there it is.

i don't need monkeys flashing their asses to prove that i care about the people in my address book.

now, i get a bunch of these, and they almost always come from one of two people. i have an email address just for them now, and the inbox is full of junk and their forwarded emails. i don't actually hear from either of these people in any other way. and this makes me sad. one is one of my quad boys. and i can kind of forgive him. it takes him a very long time to type a sentence, so it's easier for him to forward emails that express his feelings. and, now that i think of it, he has emailed me once or twice to find out how i'm doing and all that. so, he's kinda excused.

the other offender... well, it pisses me off. i went to her redneck damn wedding (i'm still willing to bet that that story will trump most bad wedding stories out there, and that's a bold statement). i've known her since junior high. some of you may recall a few months back, when i mentioned an old friend sent me a "hey girl! how ya doin?" email. this is her. she only tries to contact me when she's feeling isolated, or things are not warm and fuzzy with her marriage. i think an actual friend is someone that keeps in contact when things are boring and exciting. when you're happy and sad. i mean... okay, yeah. i'm being a bitch. whatever.

and i flew from california to illinois to go to her wedding (she has never visited me). a wedding that most of her friends that lived in the same damn town couldn't be bothered to attend. a wedding where the reception was dutch, and held at a really nasty food place. the kind where you pay first, giving you money to someone in a paper hat. yeah. and i was happy to do it. i'm still happy i went. because, man... it made me realize that if you go around burning all your bridges, no one will be able to follow you. not friends or enemies. it also made me realize... dude. don't move across country to live with a guy - and his girlfriend - you met online. don't marry a guy you met in a three-way. especially if you were the third person, and he has a kid with the other participant. ugh. shudder. all the gospel truth.

but seriously. i still haven't emailed her back. you know those websites, where you can look up old high school friends and such? i've been getting invites from one of them that say, "so-and-so would like to invite you to blah blah blah. do you remember?" stuff like that. and i delete them. yeah, i remember. and sending me three or four a week is not going to make me want to cruise your site, yo.

it makes me feel... well, depressed. i think this is mostly to do with my birthday coming up real soon. i have issues about my birthday. and you would too, if your mom told you that she really wanted an abortion at the time. yeah. so, it's coming up, and i usually spend the few weeks before thinking about the past year. has my situation improved, stuff like that. and it has. i've gotten back on track with my career, and made the decision to go back to school to further myself. i tell people i'm doing it to keep my cat in 'nip, but really - i'm doing this for me. my health has improved. my financial situation has improved. my mental status has sorta improved (hush, now. no gigglesnorting back there). and while things are totally looking up and all, i can't help but think i'm a failure in so many ways. which has so much more to do with my upbringing than i care to admit, but i refuse to blame my parents for every little thing.

so - because i didn't try harder to keep this old friend of mine in my life, and in the loop (such as it is), it makes me start thinking about all the other things i've failed at. i never meant to be the person i am now. i'm supposed to be living in new york, writing bestsellers. that's what i wanted when i was 20, anyway. but, i got blindsided by something i mistook for love, and other failed attempts at being a grown-up have led me here.

and, you know? here ain't so bad. yeah, it's not where i thought i'd be. and i'm not who i thought i'd be. but i'm still alive. and i'm still me, kinda. so what if i still can't talk to the crush? so what if i'm a social failure? so goddamn what if people still scare me so completely that i'd rather eat my tongue than talk to a stranger? i mean, i talk to strangers sometimes. and i'm getting to the point where i can do it without peeing my pants in fear (hey - you try being beat and abused for four years straight every time you glanced at another human, and see how fabulous your social skills are).

so, there it is. i hate bulk email, i think i'm a minor failure, and i'm closer to being 31 than i ever have been before.

thanks for stopping by.

so, hiya, how ya doing? i'm pretty okay. working mostly by myself again. man, i don't know if the plague is going around, or i'm feeling tired and put upon. but when i got to work tonight, i started getting this... uh... twinge behind my left eye. like, i'm-gonna-rip-your-eye-socket-apart, kind of twinging. usually, that precludes a headache. if i'm really unlucky, a migrane. so far, it's just making my scalp itch.

here's the thing about my schedule. i work sunday through thursday nights, doing ze graveyard shift. well, somebody has to, and for a long time this was my version of hiding from the really real world. now i'm plotting my escape (which i briefly discussed with the midwife earlier, and she thinks my plans is great and callous), but i'm getting ahead of myself. so, usually, my week ends at 7 a.m. - aka, the asscrack of the day for some of you's - on friday. and i get to have friday and saturday off, to return to work sunday night. if you do the math, you'll notice that, technically, i only get one complete day (saturday) away from work. and while my job is not difficult, i do enjoy having a complete calendar day where i don't have to show up at the hospital. so, working this past friday night made me bitter. i didn't get my one full day. which doesn't affect y'all in the slightest. but there it is.

and now that eye socket pain is working itself into my spine. nice.

i don't know why, but this cracks me up. yes, i know - i could be retarded or something. but... well, just scroll down when you get there. the spelling gives me a headache, but i'm sure it's part of their charm or whatever.

so! i did go see amadan (i link because i care), and fistful of cash, and my life in black and white. and... i forgot two things. one - i didn't bring my digital dinosaur. crap. two - i forgot my earplugs. which means that my ears are still a bit ring-y. now, i have a bone to pick with some people that were there. first - why the hell were there only 15 people (yes, i counted - i love those guys) there for fistful of cash? do the rest of you not realize how absolutely badass those guys and girl are? punk covers of johnny cash songs? dude! anyway, not many people were there for them, and it makes me snippy. y'all seemed to know when exactly my life in black and white hit the stage, because there were exponentially more folks on hand for that.

i did think it was amusing that we - meaning captain clydesdale and i - stood in the same spot for, like, three songs before we realized we were standing in front of three guys from amadan. because we're oblivious and classy like that. i'm just going to pretent they were staring at my ass.

and of course, there were an assload of folks there for amadan. and... okay, i missed a memo or something. because, like, a bunch of guys walked by the stage to smack their bass player on the ass. or they were grabbing big handfulls of his heinie. it must be a guy thing. only really secure men can grope rock stars that do darth vader impressions. is that it? anyway, it was... odd. but! those guys were so amped and ready to rock. we stood at the side of the stage for a few songs, to aviod the throng and maybe save our ears a bit of damage. so, we had the back end view - five boy butts lined up:

see? crappe picture, from the crap camera phone. blur on the left is the back end of the bass player, lighter blur on the right is banjo/ spoons/whistle player. yes, he really plays spoons. it's fabulous. anyway, they were so revved up - two guys broke strings on the first song. that's raw power.

during their one-song encore, they had the house lights up. and this was the best i could do. i'm not mad that i forgot my camera. i tried taking pictures of yarn on sunday morning, to make a joke about my fiber habit, and i couldn't see what was going on. my camera has one of those little screens on the back, that show you what you're looking at? it was completely black the whole time. and when i used the viewfinder to take my pictures? ass ass assy shots. so... i figure that extra day i just worked bought me a new digital camera. thank christ.

and hey - the captain pointed this out to me, and he's totally right. their temporary fiddle player? he looks like this:

almost exactly. scary little wood sprite. bring back naoyuki! we love naoyuki!

now for the random photos:

in the bar portion of the berbati's (yes, the fiddle playing wood nymph in a place called berbati's pan - the irony or whatever is not lost on me), where we saw the musics, they have drawings on the walls. and four of them were rabbits! good ones. i had the urge to write down the artist's name and have them draw bunnies all over the rabbyt hutch. i don't care if no one else approves.

what? WHAT? did you say something, o hairless one? you know that's what's going on here.

yeah, that's what i though. just lie there are pretend to sleep. i'll still be here, stealing your soul between spontaneous naps.

finally -

thinking about making this my little author photo up there. does anyone have any thoughts?

i have more to say, and more photos, but i seem to be experiencing some technical difficulties. the little computer weasels are chewing on power cords or something. thanks for stopping by.