February 28th, 2006 at 11:31 pm
(News, Thoughts)
Those new VW commercials really slay me. Is that so wrong? God, I love them. “Ve are going to unpimp zeh Auto. *smash/fling/destroy* Oh snap! Deutschland represent!” Those are die Beste. I need to make some caps of those. I want a header made out of one. Kommen Sie zu meiner Stadt bitte und alle der Autos meines Nachbars… uh… unpimpen. /bad German.
Like a stupid fool, I went voluntarily to the dentist’s yesterday. Had I known what was in store for me, I would have gone down the street and got me some hard stuff so the knowingness would have been obliterated. What an ungodly root canal! To be fair, it didn’t hurt… the opening my mouth so wide for so long was what hurt. But in between the dentist and I talked (he’s a friend of the family) and he was excited that I am finally feeling better. However, poor man, I think he was coming down with the flu.
Eloric had a screaming nightmare the other night. It was about 1:30 in the morning and I was just finishing a documentry, getting ready for bed, and this blood-curdling scream comes out of the bedroom. I run into the bedroom, shouting for him to shut up (because this has been going on for 10 years and I’ve turned into a bitch about it- I have no problems admitting it), brandishing the remote control from the cable unit, just in case I needed to beat the heck out of something. He wakes up and tells me he’d dreamed of being poisoned. NeNe was holding him down by the shoulders and she had the antidote in her mouth and was getting ready to drop it into his mouth… but he was afraid it was more poison, hence the shrieking.
I don’t think we’re going to make Dave, dammit. *sniff* Too much going on with medical and work. I’m sorry Dave… I still looovveee yeeewww. 
Please forgive me… 
February 25th, 2006 at 12:01 am
(News, Rants)
Gawd. 
They’ve found us. Dammit. Somehow, Eloric’s unspeakable mother has gotten ahold of his/our e-mail address. I have a feeling that either the source for Joseph gossip told it to his brother or it happened because in well-meaning enough but also a stupid, stupid move, Eloric gave it to his father even though his father doesn’t have internet access. *sigh* Either way, his mother sent us an e-mail inviting us for what amounted to a serious bender… and grandkid reunion. Gee, lemme get into the car… and crash it into the nearest wall. Repeatedly, if possible.
Thank god we didn’t spot the e-mail until today. Unfortunately, now we can’t use “didn’t get the e-mail” as an excuse. Well, I guess we can since they don’t know how to tell if an e-mail has bounced because they all use Yahoo and don’t check their bulk folders. Anyway- I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: e-mail invitations are tacky, tacky, tacky. Yep- they’re cheap but nothing guarantees actual contact like picking up the telephone. But then that’s Eloric’s mother and siblings: cheap and tacky. E-mail wedding announcements anyone? E-mail death announcements? Yep. Not making it up. Now we have to do extra rounds of this nonsense.
Anyway- what mixes better than children and hard liquor? Never mind that it would take heroin and hashish to get me near any of those people ever again, let alone the children they’d be too busy drinking to parent *that is, after someone shoots me full of ketamine to get me there*- Who would make such detailed references to the amount and type of alcoholic drinks that would be offered during a time that was detailed as “getting all of the grandkids re-aquainted”? Bzuh?!? I must be missing something. I mean, besides jello shots, beer, cheap wine, more beer, pucker, vodka, schnapps, and yet more beer. Alcohol was mentioned much more than anything else. Oh, and coffee and milk. But those were added as an afterthought. I guess they must have been relying on Eloric and myself as the sober parties, since we don’t drink socially. What a bleeding pity that the party was on the 11th. What a bleeding pity indeed.
So. I guess the family has most likely caught up on our business or the fictionalized version of it, at any rate. I’m sure his mother had a high time fabricating tales about us this go-around. Mostly, I don’t really care what that woman puts through herself as it’s only likely to fall on the ears of people I don’t give two farts about but… it might get spread around like the whole “evil witch who cast an evil spell on me so I’ll have evil luck and therefore not have to take responsibility for my pathetic life” bull caca that’s still haunting me from… geez… four-five years ago? Those people might be stupid but it’s the persistant sort of stupid that eventually yields results. And stupid people in a large group like that? Lethal.
You couldn’t pay me enough to go to another one of his mother’s gatherings; there is no amount of money that would lure me thither. If David Gray, Jack McCoy, Sting, and Jeremy Irons all got together for the express purpose of convincing me to attend, promising great rewards, I would still refuse. Only if you threatened Eloric or my cats. Then, I would go drugged out of my skull, stay 30 seconds, and regret it for the next four years. It is a far better thing that I never mix with those people ever again. There is nothing constructive to be had from it.
I wonder if it would be possible to change that e-mail address. I should look into it. Pretty soon they’ll be forwarding us idiot things about people getting cancer from beatings.
I can’t stand those people.
But at least it gave me her IP to pre-emptively bannanate from here. Silver lining and all. *sporfel*
February 22nd, 2006 at 2:36 am
(Witches Weekly)
What is one piece of bardic work that is meaningful to you, and what makes it so meaningful?
Any of Rumi’s work, really. The Sufi viewpoint of God as Beloved really helped me move forward in my spirituality.
Come, come, whoever you are,
wanderer, worshipper, lover of leaving.
This is not a caravan of despair.
It doesn’t matter that you’ve broken
your vow a thousand times, still
come, and yet again, come.
And one more, because I have to give David Gray his due: His album White Ladder got me through a lot of horrible work days, especially Silver Lining
Take this silver lining
Keep it in your own sweet head
Shine it when the night is burning red
Shine it in the twilight
Shine it on the cold cold ground
Shine it till these walls come
Tumbling down
We were born with our eyes wide open
So alive with wild hope
Now can you tell me why
Time after time
They drag you down
Down in the darkness deep
Fools in their madness all around
Know that the light don’t sleep
Step into the silence
Take it in your own two hands
And scatter it like diamonds
All across these lands
Blaze it in the morning
Wear it like an iron skin
Only things worth living for
Innocence and magic-amen
We were born with our eyes wide open
So alive with wild hope
Now can you tell me why
Time after time
They drag you down
Down in the darkness deep
Fools in their madness all around
Know that the light don’t sleep
We were born with our eyes wide open
So alive with wild hope
Now can you tell me why
Time after time
They drag you down
Down with talk so cheap
Fools in their madness all around
-Know that the light don’t sleep
-Know that the light don’t sleep
Time after time
They drag you down
Down in the darkness deep
Fools in their madness all around
-Know that the light don’t sleep
-Know that the light don’t sleep
February 22nd, 2006 at 1:52 am
(Thoughts)
I don’t know what I was thinking yesterday but I snagged a Starbuck’s application. It rather horrifies me how suited I am for a food-service job, after working all of those years for the Borg. It is so very sad, how qualified I am- which is not tooting my own horn. Knowledge of regulation, proper sanitary procedures, ability to supervise, order, ensuring good product quality. How very pathetic, really. But it’s what I’ve become, so I’ll use it until that very fine day when I can pick up a clipboard (or a computer, I guess, judging from Kay Chemical) and look for “protien build-up” in all of the unusual areas health inspectors tend to find it. Yes, I am feeling so well, I think I could get employed again and have a good chance at holding down a job without getting fired for monthly flares. I just need to get my courage and tolerance for bullshit back up. 
I also realise that Starbuck’s is the Wal*Mart of coffee… Whore of Babylon, I think people call it. But well, I have a lot of experience being anal-raped by megacorps, so I think I could handle it if I didn’t look to go into supervision again. Food Service Retail Supervision is akin to being a back-passage courtesan of the 15th rank: anyone can screw you as hard as they like up the arse… and they will. Without thought and with great enthusiasm and probably with a sandpaper condom. Which is one of the reasons I want to inspect- I want to do the screwing. I admit it. I mean, yeah, there is the altuistic part of me that wants to keep people from food poisoning because I’ve had food poisoning from a restaurant and it is not fun… but well, I’m judgemental, admit it, and want to use it. Besides… I know all the tricks now. If the violation is there, there is no talking the Health Inspector out writing it… unlike the utter idiocy I experienced supervising slatterns who didn’t wash their hands after using the restroom. 
E-coli anyone? Staphylococcus aureus perhaps? VIOLATION! FINE! Not “Well, she probably hasn’t worked with food before. That’s no cause for write-up. Tear up that slip.”
We’ll see if I actually submit the application. The shop is about 30 minutes away but… Oddly enough- I don’t care to work locally. My reputation as an “evil witch”, earned by trusting my sister-in-law and the nursed along by various bigoted prats, doesn’t do much in the workplace. I’d rather start with a cleanish-slate and let people get to know me rather than arriving with a label and being pre-judged. This whole county is a huge cauldron of gossip and bigotry- everyone’s up in everyone else’s business, especially if they can find something to hate about you without even knowing you. It unites people who otherwise would be out making amorous advances to livestock.
In other news- I saw Peter Woodward on Walker, Texas Ranger today. Eloric has a significant hero-worship of the man. It’s so cute. And, as I thought, he IS Edward Woodward’s son. Anyway, I’m only mentioning it because I thought he was too good an actor for the show. Walker is a little bit unbelievable and stilted but I couldn’t stop watching it when I saw Peter. *snort* I was hoping he’d raise the caliber of the plot. Didn’t happen. But he is more suited to Age of Chivalry work, in my opinion. I’d rather see him with a sword or a pike on his hand on History International. So would Eloric.
I think I’ll go practice painting bamboo.
February 22nd, 2006 at 12:58 am
(Poetry)
Background: In college we had crazed street preachers who ranted and raved across campus, supposedly spreading the Word of God but in actuality, making amusing spectacles for the students. This poem is based on an infamous sermon by one such fellow about how lecherous women supposedly are and how Satan tempts them so much with sex that even if one sees a phallically-shaped veggie, she’ll snag it for self-pleasureing purposes.
For my own amusement and practice.
on the cold concrete
he preaches against vegetables
cucumbers are sin
toboggan askew
words and spittle fly from him
lust is like eggplant
Satan tempts woman
with phallically-shaped veggies
rather than apples
Farmer’s Market is
a damnable, lewd whorehouse
prostitute root crops
Fellas, lock the girls
away from the lechery
of carrots and squash
God will reward you
the food pyramid will gleam
with new purity
February 19th, 2006 at 5:08 pm
(News)
The neighbor girl to the north of us invited us to a ginormous party last night. That was very sweet of her as I had believed that, except for hitting us up for money for their children’s fundraisers or prostelysing or driving their 4 wheelers through our yards, our neighbors weren’t aware of our existance. But this girl is different, bless her. Not much loud music, doesn’t own an ATV, seems responsible enough. But Eloric had to work today and I still wasn’t feeling well as I had a flare, thanks to some obscure ingredient in my new Kashmiri spice… which I am never trying again ever, even though it was quite delicious. Still, I thought it was a very nice gesture and they were all very well-behaved, unlike the parking lot to the south.
Eloric and I had a very lovely un-Valentine’s Day the 15th. He loaded down a hotel room with alstroemeria and we had a very nice romp. It’s nice to know that since I went vegetarian, I can have grapes and wine again. Well well. We got ourselves several books and a good deal of coffee. I quite enjoyed myself.
Oh and if everything goes well… Imma see me some David Gray next month. *squee!!!!*
February 15th, 2006 at 3:34 am
(Uncategorized)
I usually don’t do this but well, there are always exceptions. Especially when you have insomnia.
“It seems to be a real stumbling block for me and that is that no one understands our pain. It seems people relate to cancer or other diseases, but for some reason, when you say ‘bladder pain’ or ‘urethral pain’ or worst of all ‘clitoral pain’, you just get a blank stare and things said like, ‘you should be like (insert name), she has pain, but you’d never know, she just pushes through it with a smile’. Sometimes, I just can’t take any more of it. Anyway, food for thought: I wish God had made pain be a color that appeared, a tune that was played or that we could touch each other and transfer the pain, then they’d see.”
- from Art for IC
The Slash(fic) Handsignals
eBay Brain Cell Auction
The Haunted and Evil Toothpick auction
Some Teen’s Diary
The Haunted Coffee Pot
Awww. I was really hoping to link the Fire Me From Home Depot auction here but it’s dead. Durn. Ditto the auction for one of Chuck Norris’ tears (they cure cancer).
Gods, I wish I could sleep.
February 13th, 2006 at 11:18 pm
(Better Living Through Chemistry, Interstitial Cystitis, Thoughts)
Sooooooo.
I went to the urogyn today. She was a very nice lady, direct, knowledgable, pleasant. She too is convinced that my problems are more gynecological in nature than urinary and she wondered to me if I shouldn’t like to have my uterus out. Now she has a boatload of awards and sits on several boards of medicine… but I’m still convinced that my problem isn’t my uterus so much as my hormones thinning the lining of my bladder during certain times in my cycle- though I guess that is a newer and still-controversial theory. But I’m not the extremely-lauded specialist, so I’ll just say that I happen to like my uterus where it is, even though it gushes blood since I’ve been on/off/on/off Elmiron and Levora, and I find that it holds my bladder in place nicely and I really enjoy having all of my pelvic organs more or less in their proper places.
Upside: I get to go back to Dr. Machismo and get back on Alesse. Alesse is good. I like Alesse. I like being able to floor Eloric whenever I want without carrying around condoms. Not only that but I like not being in pain from costochondritis and IBS from hell due to too much estrogen. And I like being able to enjoy sex. Levora and Yasmin screwed that up. So what if there’s some breakthrough bleeding- I’d rather bleed a little bit that suffer through all of that because some doctor doesn’t like breakthrough bleeding. And I don’t mean the haemmorage I had on Yasmin, either.
‘Nother revelation: Apparently there are people like myself, with multiple sensitivities, who react very badly to the chemicals, antibiotics, hormones, and gods-know-whatever other garbage they put in animal feed and meat and do feel better for being vegetarian or from eating only free-range animal meats. So. Guess who’s going to be a permanent vegetarian? Yup. This is going to make eating out even more of an adventure but hell, I haven’t had a horriffic flare this month and I was sort of wondering if it had to do with the grand experiment. I had thought it might help but the doctor authenticated my suspicion for me.
But basically- she told me what I already knew anyway: Want to be practically flare free? Don’t have a period. Gee, thanks. Here’s $200. No, really, I’m not bitter about it. I mean that. I’m not. I just find it horribly funny-odd that it’s what she said. However, it would have been nice for doctor Asshat to have listened to me instead of going off as he did and then pushing the idea of a hysterectomy on me in such a negative way. And then sending me to someone nicer but with the same “fix” *hahahahahah!* for the problem as I had suggested.
Other than that, I am never taking Nyquil again. I took some night before last and I swear it was akin to a bad acid trip. I was hallucinating architectual blueprints based on the number 8. Think cross-sections of the Petronas Towers in Malaysia and you’ll have some idea of what was zipping through my mind. Then I decided that conjugating every German verb I knew would be a great way to purge the blueprints out of my brain. And after an hour and a half of ich bin, du bist, er ist, etc. I had to recall exactly where all of the staircases in my highscool were. All of them. Every floor. Finally, I fell asleep and Kareem Said from Oz chased me around the gymnasium with a copy of Widacre for the rest of the night. I don’t know why.
Other than all of that, I’m still working on a new header for a new layout. I like making layouts, what can I say? I believe, however, I’m still sticking to Tanka as the default theme.
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