Happy Holidays everyone, whatever that might mean to you each indivividually. This is just a quick note while the relatives have gone out and left me home alone with 3 children and a toddler in a pear tree. My older sisters and their boyfriends are visiting us for two weeks and I'm having a great time. So far I haven't gone to bed before 5 a.m. and I predict the rest of the week will be more of the same.
I got lots of lovely presents, although I'm slightly saddened by the fact that I'm starting to enjoy getting clothes as gifts. I remember a time when clothes presents were immediately shoved aside with a shout of "Next!" I do hope I'm not *gulp*, "getting old."
The last couple of days before my sisters got here, my mother was going madtrying to pain t the house inside and out, cook, clean the floors, shine the windows, wash the laundry, etc, etc. I was supposed to help her, and for the most part I did, But my muse decided to interrupt me in her usual fashion. Or maybe that was my sloth? Anyhow, I'll leave you with this little tidbit:
Wasting Time
Write emails and a blog,
Water dead plants, walk the dog.
Write some poetry, prose or rhyme?
I think rhyme will be,
The greater waste of time.
Sunday, December 25, 2005
Friday, December 16, 2005
Eggnog?
So much for the holidays, things have been busier than ever, hence the lack of posts I'm afraid. My older sisters and their boyfriends are arriving next week, so Mum, has us cleaning the house like the Queen was coming for tea. Sigh, besides that, a friend gave me a set of nails and I'm only just getting the hang of typing with claws. It's taking longer than figuring out how to gauge someone's eyes out...
Talking of gauging, the Rockstar couldn't come out and play last night because he hadn't showered, and someone was in the family bath. Is there a prize for lamest excuse since "I'm washing my hair"? In any case, the family went to Bol-Bol and we spent too much money on joystick games. Spookily my joints started getting stuck from too much button pushing, and I'm a bit worried that Mum's prediction that I was going to do permanent damage to my fingers by cracking them has finally come true. Help!
Mmm, while I try and remember what else I was going to post here's sme photos...and no they're not THOSE photos...
Mum thinks I should finance uni with a modelling career...I say, if I had a modelling career I wouldn't go to uni...
And this is my son William, looking dashing as usual...
Ah yes, I remember, I got a sitemeter last week, it's at the bottom of the page. The site has 92 views so far, not that I really care about that. No, I just want to keep tabs at who's looking, bwahaha, and the referrals are interesting too. Seems most people are coming over from Rachel's blog. Others include Hayley's Vegeterian to Vegan Blog, and this cool blog that consists solely of photos. There's also a map showing where in the world the page is being visited from, the furthest away so far being Auckland, New Zealand. Second farthest is Egypt.
More tales of love, woe, excitement, vegeterian follies, and hoodies in the next post. But now I need to go pick William up from "Baby's Daykare". Yes, I know, how can I trust my firstborn to people who can't spell?
Talking of gauging, the Rockstar couldn't come out and play last night because he hadn't showered, and someone was in the family bath. Is there a prize for lamest excuse since "I'm washing my hair"? In any case, the family went to Bol-Bol and we spent too much money on joystick games. Spookily my joints started getting stuck from too much button pushing, and I'm a bit worried that Mum's prediction that I was going to do permanent damage to my fingers by cracking them has finally come true. Help!
Mmm, while I try and remember what else I was going to post here's sme photos...and no they're not THOSE photos...
Mum thinks I should finance uni with a modelling career...I say, if I had a modelling career I wouldn't go to uni...And this is my son William, looking dashing as usual...
Ah yes, I remember, I got a sitemeter last week, it's at the bottom of the page. The site has 92 views so far, not that I really care about that. No, I just want to keep tabs at who's looking, bwahaha, and the referrals are interesting too. Seems most people are coming over from Rachel's blog. Others include Hayley's Vegeterian to Vegan Blog, and this cool blog that consists solely of photos. There's also a map showing where in the world the page is being visited from, the furthest away so far being Auckland, New Zealand. Second farthest is Egypt.
More tales of love, woe, excitement, vegeterian follies, and hoodies in the next post. But now I need to go pick William up from "Baby's Daykare". Yes, I know, how can I trust my firstborn to people who can't spell?
Saturday, December 10, 2005
Season of Mists
Listening to: "Three Libras" by Perfect Circle
Current mood: Melancholy, nostalgic (yes, THAT song will do that to anyone, not that i need any help).
Worrying about: Dying (yes, I know it's useless).
Quote: "Don't take life too seriously, you can't possibly get out of it alive." Bugs Bunny
Hmm, I'm considering putting those up there for the rest of my posts, I'll see how I feel about it next time I post. I've been meaning to put something up for ages, but dad discovered peer to peer trading programs and is staying up till 4 a.m. every day downloading music. In a week he's managed to do more damage to the music industry than I have in 6 months. But he's not home tonight, William is asleep, my siblings are being taken care for by the nanny, aka the tv (they're way too far gone for me to save them, I'm waiting for them to hit puberty to try and use the hormone jolt to pull them out of their brain deadness), and mum is out with an aunt.
I've got plenty to write, maybe too much, as recently I've found that I interpret a lot of what happens to me by thinking, "How am I going to write about this in my blog?", which is much much worse than having imaginary conversations with myself about what I'm going to say to X or Y next time I see them. I can only hope I'm not the only one who is suffering from this mental illness, and to be honest I don't need to hope too hard. I bet the pharmaceuticals are already making up a drug and a name to go along with it.
This is what the Diagnostic Manual will say:
Blogger Induced Psychosis
Patient displays an unusual obsession with updating their blog, which is often used as a means of "framing" the world in order to interact with it better or to give it a more television like image to perception. In some type A individuals this is accompanied by the belief that the blog has a huge loyal audience, and that they owe this legion of fans up to date and accurate information.
Mmmm, maybe not. In any case here I am, and feeling a bit blue. It's one of the simple side effects of traveling so much, you leave a little bit of yourself in every spot, and sometimes you just ache for places and people and it is just a wave that needs riding out, because one can't just take the next plane to Timbuktu every time you get a bit "non-homesick". People often ask me where I think home is, and all I can ever reply is "What home?" It's like Rachel used to say, "If home is where the heart lies, and the heat lies, then where is home?". Right now I'm having one of those rare downers that constitutes missing everywhere and everyone at the same time, and this added to the fact that old friends have been coming out of the woodwork to say hi and everything reminds me of England, the place that comes closest to home in my mind.
Not to say with all this that I don't love Mexico, or the people I do have near. And even less so that I would trade in my nomad days for a more sedentary life style. Hell no! I would never exchange the dozens of rooms I couldn't decorate to fit my taste because they were rented or because it wasn't worthwhile due to the short amount of time I was going to spend in them for a permanent set of four walls I could do as I wished with. And I wouldn't trade the hundreds of people I know but hardly get to see, for friends that were always there. No, I really do like things as they are, but sometimes it's a lonely life. But this feeling will pass, probably by the end of the week, and I'll be moaning again at having slept in the same room for the past six months and not being able to stretch my wings.
So, who dropped me a line? I heard from Janacua, the third boy I ever kissed. We had a few dates in Mexico City after meeting in a chat room, and then I ran and hid. I was 15 at the time and to be honest I still haven't got the hang of saying good bye properly, and I was about to go back to England. To his credit he didn't hold a grudge and we chat and exchange emails every once in a while. Um, and not to my credit at all, he was writing to tell me that as usual, I've left it forever to answer his last email and he hopes I'm still alive.
I got an email from Daniel, who is a darling, even though he's usually more melancholy and pessimistic than I am in my worst hours. The email was to say hi, since I haven't been online in a while (we're chat buddies), um and to mention he was feeling blue...I rest my case. Then again he usually manages to lift my spirits whenever we chit chat and not always by showing me the dark side of things. Shoot, now I'm trying to resist whistling that tune from "Life of Brian".
Next person on this stroll down memory lane is DLB#1 aka David Burns, my genuine first ever boyfriend. Nice guy, funny as hell and a gorgeous body. Why oh why did I break up with him then? Ah yes, lovely though he was, in the end I realized we were really friends with benefits, I loved him dearly, but NOT like that. And I think the feeling was mutual. I was a bit cruel.. okay I was too cruel to him in the end, and although we still exchange emails it doesn't happen as often as it should. So note to self: write David more often.
Last email I got was from Rachel, who is either too busy or too sad to update her blog, so I'm a bit worried about her. Not too worried though, as I know she is spunkier than she admits and will be all right no matter what. She's managed to not turn cynical and boring despite being VERY smart, and that is a rare gem. Out of all the people that are far away, she's the one I miss the most, and my best friend. Sorry to say that at times I've been cruel to her too, out of sheer oblivion or immaturity. Again, being the little ray of sunshine that she is, we're still in touch in spite of that.
And for all of them and many others I am grateful. So I'm going to stop being such a weeping willow now. But thinking back, I guess I've been unkind to a lot of people, and if any of you are reading this, all I can say is I'm sorry, and it genuinely was not malicious, it was probably more of a case of me being silly, or selfish, or childish; and it's all down to me not being quite domesticated or polished, so don't take it personally.
In other news I finished my first term of uni on Tuesday, with flying colors, all 10's except for a darn 9 somewhere, so all A's and a B for you Brits...I stayed up all night Monday to finish a web page for IT that isn't online, and does not look anything like this webpage, which I also made, but much much better, thanks to this. I might upload it someday, just for the hell of it. I also showed my teacher my blog to which he replied "Stop fussing you nerd, you've already got a 10." Yes, bow before my mighty nerd powers, pestering my teachers into giving me top scores! Mmm the Virgin Mary talk didn't go as smoothly as planned, but at least I didn't get stoned, and my opponent was a bit rubbish too, so never mind.
I have a frightening reinscription through the internet coming up, which I've been told is going to be hellish. Apparently I have to pick a schedule, but there's only so many spots for each schedule, s if someone comes along with better grades than me they can kick me out of the group and I have to find a new schedule. And the system has a tendency to go offline....
Thursday night Ivonne phoned me to tell me she had to hand in a photography project the next day and would I pose naked for her and 2 of her classmates. Now, I still don't know if I should feel offended or proud at the fact that when her original model fell through, I was the first person she rang, but of course I agreed almost immediately. I've always wanted to pose for life drawings, but I've never had enough time to commit to a project of that immensity, so this was perfect. It was the most fun I've had taking my clothes off since, um lets see, Saturday. And no I won't be posting the photos on here, and you can't have copies, that includes you Mr. Rockstar. The last time I had nude photos of me, the mobile they were in got stolen, and heaven knows where they are now...
Speak of the devil, I went to see Narnia with Mr. Rockstar and it was lovely, I love fantasy stories with magickal creatures and a good versus evil plotline. The CGI animation is just amazing, the outfits and makeup were incredible, and the music was very good too (and don't take my word for it, the resident music man, Mr. Rockstar concurrs). And I{m just a sucker fot gryphons. I read the book when I was little, but what really got burnt into my young cerebral cortex was the scene in the animated movie when the witch tortures and kills the lion. My only complaint is there not much in the way of blood in the film, which isn't surprising since its a PG and a Disney film to boot, but both of us thought a darker version of the film for adults wouldn't go amiss. Mr. Rockstar won absolutely no brownie points wishing out loud that we would soon get to see more of the witches cleavage...anyhow, the point is its a great film despite the lack of gore and will some director please, please, make the rated R version?
Current mood: Melancholy, nostalgic (yes, THAT song will do that to anyone, not that i need any help).
Worrying about: Dying (yes, I know it's useless).
Quote: "Don't take life too seriously, you can't possibly get out of it alive." Bugs Bunny
Hmm, I'm considering putting those up there for the rest of my posts, I'll see how I feel about it next time I post. I've been meaning to put something up for ages, but dad discovered peer to peer trading programs and is staying up till 4 a.m. every day downloading music. In a week he's managed to do more damage to the music industry than I have in 6 months. But he's not home tonight, William is asleep, my siblings are being taken care for by the nanny, aka the tv (they're way too far gone for me to save them, I'm waiting for them to hit puberty to try and use the hormone jolt to pull them out of their brain deadness), and mum is out with an aunt.
I've got plenty to write, maybe too much, as recently I've found that I interpret a lot of what happens to me by thinking, "How am I going to write about this in my blog?", which is much much worse than having imaginary conversations with myself about what I'm going to say to X or Y next time I see them. I can only hope I'm not the only one who is suffering from this mental illness, and to be honest I don't need to hope too hard. I bet the pharmaceuticals are already making up a drug and a name to go along with it.
This is what the Diagnostic Manual will say:
Blogger Induced Psychosis
Patient displays an unusual obsession with updating their blog, which is often used as a means of "framing" the world in order to interact with it better or to give it a more television like image to perception. In some type A individuals this is accompanied by the belief that the blog has a huge loyal audience, and that they owe this legion of fans up to date and accurate information.
Mmmm, maybe not. In any case here I am, and feeling a bit blue. It's one of the simple side effects of traveling so much, you leave a little bit of yourself in every spot, and sometimes you just ache for places and people and it is just a wave that needs riding out, because one can't just take the next plane to Timbuktu every time you get a bit "non-homesick". People often ask me where I think home is, and all I can ever reply is "What home?" It's like Rachel used to say, "If home is where the heart lies, and the heat lies, then where is home?". Right now I'm having one of those rare downers that constitutes missing everywhere and everyone at the same time, and this added to the fact that old friends have been coming out of the woodwork to say hi and everything reminds me of England, the place that comes closest to home in my mind.
Not to say with all this that I don't love Mexico, or the people I do have near. And even less so that I would trade in my nomad days for a more sedentary life style. Hell no! I would never exchange the dozens of rooms I couldn't decorate to fit my taste because they were rented or because it wasn't worthwhile due to the short amount of time I was going to spend in them for a permanent set of four walls I could do as I wished with. And I wouldn't trade the hundreds of people I know but hardly get to see, for friends that were always there. No, I really do like things as they are, but sometimes it's a lonely life. But this feeling will pass, probably by the end of the week, and I'll be moaning again at having slept in the same room for the past six months and not being able to stretch my wings.
So, who dropped me a line? I heard from Janacua, the third boy I ever kissed. We had a few dates in Mexico City after meeting in a chat room, and then I ran and hid. I was 15 at the time and to be honest I still haven't got the hang of saying good bye properly, and I was about to go back to England. To his credit he didn't hold a grudge and we chat and exchange emails every once in a while. Um, and not to my credit at all, he was writing to tell me that as usual, I've left it forever to answer his last email and he hopes I'm still alive.
I got an email from Daniel, who is a darling, even though he's usually more melancholy and pessimistic than I am in my worst hours. The email was to say hi, since I haven't been online in a while (we're chat buddies), um and to mention he was feeling blue...I rest my case. Then again he usually manages to lift my spirits whenever we chit chat and not always by showing me the dark side of things. Shoot, now I'm trying to resist whistling that tune from "Life of Brian".
Next person on this stroll down memory lane is DLB#1 aka David Burns, my genuine first ever boyfriend. Nice guy, funny as hell and a gorgeous body. Why oh why did I break up with him then? Ah yes, lovely though he was, in the end I realized we were really friends with benefits, I loved him dearly, but NOT like that. And I think the feeling was mutual. I was a bit cruel.. okay I was too cruel to him in the end, and although we still exchange emails it doesn't happen as often as it should. So note to self: write David more often.
Last email I got was from Rachel, who is either too busy or too sad to update her blog, so I'm a bit worried about her. Not too worried though, as I know she is spunkier than she admits and will be all right no matter what. She's managed to not turn cynical and boring despite being VERY smart, and that is a rare gem. Out of all the people that are far away, she's the one I miss the most, and my best friend. Sorry to say that at times I've been cruel to her too, out of sheer oblivion or immaturity. Again, being the little ray of sunshine that she is, we're still in touch in spite of that.
And for all of them and many others I am grateful. So I'm going to stop being such a weeping willow now. But thinking back, I guess I've been unkind to a lot of people, and if any of you are reading this, all I can say is I'm sorry, and it genuinely was not malicious, it was probably more of a case of me being silly, or selfish, or childish; and it's all down to me not being quite domesticated or polished, so don't take it personally.
In other news I finished my first term of uni on Tuesday, with flying colors, all 10's except for a darn 9 somewhere, so all A's and a B for you Brits...I stayed up all night Monday to finish a web page for IT that isn't online, and does not look anything like this webpage, which I also made, but much much better, thanks to this. I might upload it someday, just for the hell of it. I also showed my teacher my blog to which he replied "Stop fussing you nerd, you've already got a 10." Yes, bow before my mighty nerd powers, pestering my teachers into giving me top scores! Mmm the Virgin Mary talk didn't go as smoothly as planned, but at least I didn't get stoned, and my opponent was a bit rubbish too, so never mind.
I have a frightening reinscription through the internet coming up, which I've been told is going to be hellish. Apparently I have to pick a schedule, but there's only so many spots for each schedule, s if someone comes along with better grades than me they can kick me out of the group and I have to find a new schedule. And the system has a tendency to go offline....
Thursday night Ivonne phoned me to tell me she had to hand in a photography project the next day and would I pose naked for her and 2 of her classmates. Now, I still don't know if I should feel offended or proud at the fact that when her original model fell through, I was the first person she rang, but of course I agreed almost immediately. I've always wanted to pose for life drawings, but I've never had enough time to commit to a project of that immensity, so this was perfect. It was the most fun I've had taking my clothes off since, um lets see, Saturday. And no I won't be posting the photos on here, and you can't have copies, that includes you Mr. Rockstar. The last time I had nude photos of me, the mobile they were in got stolen, and heaven knows where they are now...
Speak of the devil, I went to see Narnia with Mr. Rockstar and it was lovely, I love fantasy stories with magickal creatures and a good versus evil plotline. The CGI animation is just amazing, the outfits and makeup were incredible, and the music was very good too (and don't take my word for it, the resident music man, Mr. Rockstar concurrs). And I{m just a sucker fot gryphons. I read the book when I was little, but what really got burnt into my young cerebral cortex was the scene in the animated movie when the witch tortures and kills the lion. My only complaint is there not much in the way of blood in the film, which isn't surprising since its a PG and a Disney film to boot, but both of us thought a darker version of the film for adults wouldn't go amiss. Mr. Rockstar won absolutely no brownie points wishing out loud that we would soon get to see more of the witches cleavage...anyhow, the point is its a great film despite the lack of gore and will some director please, please, make the rated R version?
Thursday, December 01, 2005
Silly Love Songs
Oh fudge. Just when I thought I was safe. Just when I thought I'd gotten over my bohemian ideals and found my cool hearted, firm handed, practical self together... some sod puts up love poetry along with the grades up on the Wall of Laments (and not Commerce) at uni. It's not even that good, but I have to admit I like it. I might even copy it and post it for my Spanish readers. As for the rest of you, sorry, I've always felt translating poetry is probably as useful as turning it into a crossword puzzle.
Feeling inspired myself lately too, there's a contest for short novels in the works at the moment which has caught my eye, so I might write a piece for that, especially since I'm nearly on vacation. Oh yes, I seem to have survived my first term of uni without psychological scarring and plus a few friends. All that's left is presenting this blog for an IT class and giving a talk on "Mary, Modern Woman, and the Church." It's the counterargument to a classmate's talk, which will basically be all faith and no science, but he can cry at will, which is a weapon I don't count on. But do not worry, I can make the Whore of Babylon look good, have nice powerpoint slides, etymology and animated snowflakes on my side...
Went out with the rockstar and some work people last night, they're a great bunch and I had a lovely time. I ate too much too. Played with the rockstar under the table a bit more than is proper as well, tee hee, but I couldn't help myself. Oh, and he made his first appearance in one of my dreams tonight. Now, anyone that knows me well enough can tell you my dreams are extremely important to me, that I obssess about them for days, write them down and analyze them like new lovers, and then sometimes I even dream them over on purpose. In my dreams everything makes sense, even if it shouldn't, I feel in total control of myself and I know my surroundings. I sometimes even have the sneaking suspicion that my dreams are more real than my waking life. But anyhow, thats subject matter for another post, my point is, he's made it in there, so he's doing well.
I was reminiscing with my parents today about the ups and downs of our religious life...well okay, the downs, there haven't been any ups. Mum used to be a practicing Catholic and would have probably made it to heaven if it hadn't been for Dad, who used to be bitterly cinical and disbelieving of the church and clergy in general. That is until he hit his midlife crisis and started believing in everything, from crystals and astral forces, to old men in clouds and virgin births. Too much, too late for his younger offspring I'm afraid, my little sister and brother, and myself have NEVER been baptized, so we're going straight to hell according to some sources (please, please don't let the Mormons baptize me after I'm dead!). We talked about how my aunt has a tiny minibar fridge with no food in her house, but always manges to have at least three big bottles of holy water to sprinkle and bless visits with. And we fondly remebered the time that my Dad, after I asked him to take me to get baptized, spit in his hand, dabbed his finger in it and, making the sign of the cross on my forhead with dribble said: "Okay, there, your'e baptized". This got me thinking: shouldn't everyone have the opportunity to have even a small vial of my father's holy drool? It's thicker than holy water, and it's good for baptisms, weddings, excorcisms and funerals. PLease send a sae and a donation to the usual address.
Ah and speaking of addresses, I got a lovely postcard from Rachel! Which reminds me, I really ought to get round to sending her birthday present, maybe that way, it'll get there for next year's celebration....
Feeling inspired myself lately too, there's a contest for short novels in the works at the moment which has caught my eye, so I might write a piece for that, especially since I'm nearly on vacation. Oh yes, I seem to have survived my first term of uni without psychological scarring and plus a few friends. All that's left is presenting this blog for an IT class and giving a talk on "Mary, Modern Woman, and the Church." It's the counterargument to a classmate's talk, which will basically be all faith and no science, but he can cry at will, which is a weapon I don't count on. But do not worry, I can make the Whore of Babylon look good, have nice powerpoint slides, etymology and animated snowflakes on my side...
Went out with the rockstar and some work people last night, they're a great bunch and I had a lovely time. I ate too much too. Played with the rockstar under the table a bit more than is proper as well, tee hee, but I couldn't help myself. Oh, and he made his first appearance in one of my dreams tonight. Now, anyone that knows me well enough can tell you my dreams are extremely important to me, that I obssess about them for days, write them down and analyze them like new lovers, and then sometimes I even dream them over on purpose. In my dreams everything makes sense, even if it shouldn't, I feel in total control of myself and I know my surroundings. I sometimes even have the sneaking suspicion that my dreams are more real than my waking life. But anyhow, thats subject matter for another post, my point is, he's made it in there, so he's doing well.
I was reminiscing with my parents today about the ups and downs of our religious life...well okay, the downs, there haven't been any ups. Mum used to be a practicing Catholic and would have probably made it to heaven if it hadn't been for Dad, who used to be bitterly cinical and disbelieving of the church and clergy in general. That is until he hit his midlife crisis and started believing in everything, from crystals and astral forces, to old men in clouds and virgin births. Too much, too late for his younger offspring I'm afraid, my little sister and brother, and myself have NEVER been baptized, so we're going straight to hell according to some sources (please, please don't let the Mormons baptize me after I'm dead!). We talked about how my aunt has a tiny minibar fridge with no food in her house, but always manges to have at least three big bottles of holy water to sprinkle and bless visits with. And we fondly remebered the time that my Dad, after I asked him to take me to get baptized, spit in his hand, dabbed his finger in it and, making the sign of the cross on my forhead with dribble said: "Okay, there, your'e baptized". This got me thinking: shouldn't everyone have the opportunity to have even a small vial of my father's holy drool? It's thicker than holy water, and it's good for baptisms, weddings, excorcisms and funerals. PLease send a sae and a donation to the usual address.
Ah and speaking of addresses, I got a lovely postcard from Rachel! Which reminds me, I really ought to get round to sending her birthday present, maybe that way, it'll get there for next year's celebration....
Monday, November 28, 2005
Lay Back and Surrender
It's been a while since my last post, so I've got lots to tell. In no particular order:
I've had a job offer teaching English in one of the local private Universities, which is great because :
...according to me, I'll finally have some spending money, mind you, it's all probably going to go on baby toys...
...according to my dad, I can start a credit history, so I can have a gazillion credit cards like he does...
...according to my mom, well, she hopes I'll meet some rich businessman, teach him English, and conquer the market at his side. Sorry Mom, I'll be teaching 9 year olds...
I've also made a new friend at uni, his name is Antonio,who's quite the gothic knight, and he lives a couple of blocks from me, which is nice because most all my other friends live at least half an hour away. I'm going to dump all my lovely dark literature on him (Poppy Z. Brite anyone?) and he's going to teach me how to play chess...properly, not like I usually do, thinking about my next move for half an hour, chewing it over, and then deciding "What the hell, I'll do something reckless." We got chatting about why I wanted to be a psychologist and I got to the pretty disturbing conclusion that, despite whatever satisfaction I might derive from helping people, my main motivation is rummaging inside their brains. I'm a psychic voyeour if you will.
I've been feeling quite the pensive little girl today too, and figured out that relationships are like jackets. You get cold so you put one on, which then in turn makes you too hot so you take it off only to get cold again. Yes, I know, I won't quit my day job to become a poet.
It's been film and trailer week, so here are my reviews. Take into account the facts that I live in a fantasy bubble and I think Keanu Reeves is cute, although give me some credit, I know he can't act.
"Underworld", ahhh a wet dream for a Vampire the Masquerade rpger like myself (nevermind the legal battles,*cough cough*). Basically the Matrix but with vampires and werewolves. And Kate Beckingsdale is just gorgeous, she carries off the rubber goth look marvelously. I wouldn't recommend it for everyone, but if it sounds good so far you probably should go watch it. And, fortunately for me, because I can't get enough of these sort of films, there's a sequel coming up, Underworld: Evolution.
Ack my bed is calling, so I'm going to have to owe you the other reviews for next time. I know, I'm such a terrible tease...
I've had a job offer teaching English in one of the local private Universities, which is great because :
...according to me, I'll finally have some spending money, mind you, it's all probably going to go on baby toys...
...according to my dad, I can start a credit history, so I can have a gazillion credit cards like he does...
...according to my mom, well, she hopes I'll meet some rich businessman, teach him English, and conquer the market at his side. Sorry Mom, I'll be teaching 9 year olds...
I've also made a new friend at uni, his name is Antonio,who's quite the gothic knight, and he lives a couple of blocks from me, which is nice because most all my other friends live at least half an hour away. I'm going to dump all my lovely dark literature on him (Poppy Z. Brite anyone?) and he's going to teach me how to play chess...properly, not like I usually do, thinking about my next move for half an hour, chewing it over, and then deciding "What the hell, I'll do something reckless." We got chatting about why I wanted to be a psychologist and I got to the pretty disturbing conclusion that, despite whatever satisfaction I might derive from helping people, my main motivation is rummaging inside their brains. I'm a psychic voyeour if you will.
I've been feeling quite the pensive little girl today too, and figured out that relationships are like jackets. You get cold so you put one on, which then in turn makes you too hot so you take it off only to get cold again. Yes, I know, I won't quit my day job to become a poet.
It's been film and trailer week, so here are my reviews. Take into account the facts that I live in a fantasy bubble and I think Keanu Reeves is cute, although give me some credit, I know he can't act.
"Underworld", ahhh a wet dream for a Vampire the Masquerade rpger like myself (nevermind the legal battles,*cough cough*). Basically the Matrix but with vampires and werewolves. And Kate Beckingsdale is just gorgeous, she carries off the rubber goth look marvelously. I wouldn't recommend it for everyone, but if it sounds good so far you probably should go watch it. And, fortunately for me, because I can't get enough of these sort of films, there's a sequel coming up, Underworld: Evolution.
Ack my bed is calling, so I'm going to have to owe you the other reviews for next time. I know, I'm such a terrible tease...
Friday, November 18, 2005
All of This for Nothing?
It must be melodrama week. Dad insisted on having last night's conversation AGAIN, and in the end all we could do was agree to disagree and make bad jokes about the situation. There is a light at the end of the tunnel though, as he agreed to reconsiderate my "curfew" when my grades come out in January. That or I have to wait till I graduate to run a mile to my own appartment. I could always work and study at the same time, but really, who needs the grief? Certainly not a lady of leisure such as myself ( can you hear the sarcasm dripping?).
My therapy also involved being taken down to my Dad's AA group which, to be honest, I actually enjoy going to. The psychologist in me just goes into overdrive. Funny how most alcoholics resent their Dads huh? In any case reading back on my post, chatting to my dad, and the AA meeting got me thinking all is not right. Not so much because I got angry, but because of all the memories and feelings these arguments bring out in me, so I think I'll be heading over to Al-Anon next week. It's a group for friends and family of alcoholics orientated towards helping them overcome their negative feelings. I'm not big on group therapy, but what the hell, it's cheaper than going to a hypnotherapist.
On a more light hearted note, I finally gave in and listened to My Chemical Romance's"Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge" CD, and am pleasantly surprised. I like most of the tracks, "To The End" and "Ghost of You" are my favourites
My therapy also involved being taken down to my Dad's AA group which, to be honest, I actually enjoy going to. The psychologist in me just goes into overdrive. Funny how most alcoholics resent their Dads huh? In any case reading back on my post, chatting to my dad, and the AA meeting got me thinking all is not right. Not so much because I got angry, but because of all the memories and feelings these arguments bring out in me, so I think I'll be heading over to Al-Anon next week. It's a group for friends and family of alcoholics orientated towards helping them overcome their negative feelings. I'm not big on group therapy, but what the hell, it's cheaper than going to a hypnotherapist.
On a more light hearted note, I finally gave in and listened to My Chemical Romance's"Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge" CD, and am pleasantly surprised. I like most of the tracks, "To The End" and "Ghost of You" are my favourites
Crying for Lost Wars
I just read my last post. For the record I HATE whinny posts. But I feel it's somewhat incomplete, and not just because I still feel like whining, but I want to get some details out of my head and onto screen, if only to see if I can straighten out the knots in the thread that is my thought processes.
I'm a girl. I'm twenty one. I've made some stupid mistakes in my lifetime. I love my son, my father, my brother, my sister, my mother and myself. I don't like being told what to do, especially not by someone who hasn't followed their own advice. I'm not having a childish fit over not being allowed to go out to the movies, although I do feel this is a completely childish situation and it's influencing my mood.
No, I'm having a childish fit over every birthday, christmas, weekend, you name it, that my father wasn't there because he was out having fun. I'm having a childish fit over every time he's been disrespectful to my mother and me. A particular occasion comes to mind; I went to visit him for three days in Houston, after about a year of not seeing him. He dropped me off at a Wal-Mart and said he had some errand to run, he'd be back in an hour. He came back 3 hours later, only to drop me off at a hotel. He phoned me that night to say he'd pick me up in the morning, when he was late, again. I later found out he was with his lover. And now he's getting his panties in a twist because someone wants to "disrespect" me by taking me out late at night.
It's been years, and while I'm okay with forgiving, I don't believe in forgetting. Some things burn like a hot iron and leave the taste of rot in my mouth like they were only yesterday.
This is only making more knots, so I'm just going to leave it. I imagine I'll have a chat with my dad later. I'll either muzzle myself for the sake of public peace, or I'll pour my bile into the open. Either way, I'm fucked.
Appropriately, the Pixie's "Where is my mind" just came on the playlist. Maybe I'll just shave my hair off and join the nearest Zen temple.
I'm a girl. I'm twenty one. I've made some stupid mistakes in my lifetime. I love my son, my father, my brother, my sister, my mother and myself. I don't like being told what to do, especially not by someone who hasn't followed their own advice. I'm not having a childish fit over not being allowed to go out to the movies, although I do feel this is a completely childish situation and it's influencing my mood.
No, I'm having a childish fit over every birthday, christmas, weekend, you name it, that my father wasn't there because he was out having fun. I'm having a childish fit over every time he's been disrespectful to my mother and me. A particular occasion comes to mind; I went to visit him for three days in Houston, after about a year of not seeing him. He dropped me off at a Wal-Mart and said he had some errand to run, he'd be back in an hour. He came back 3 hours later, only to drop me off at a hotel. He phoned me that night to say he'd pick me up in the morning, when he was late, again. I later found out he was with his lover. And now he's getting his panties in a twist because someone wants to "disrespect" me by taking me out late at night.
It's been years, and while I'm okay with forgiving, I don't believe in forgetting. Some things burn like a hot iron and leave the taste of rot in my mouth like they were only yesterday.
This is only making more knots, so I'm just going to leave it. I imagine I'll have a chat with my dad later. I'll either muzzle myself for the sake of public peace, or I'll pour my bile into the open. Either way, I'm fucked.
Appropriately, the Pixie's "Where is my mind" just came on the playlist. Maybe I'll just shave my hair off and join the nearest Zen temple.
Thursday, November 17, 2005
Novelty Toys, Dog Collars, and Broken Cyber Dreams
It's half past one and I'm still up. I should have gone to bed hours ago since I have to get up early tomorrow and go slave away as a future English teacher, preferably in ironed clothes. Doubtless, within the next half hour my son will start screaming the house down till I go get in bed and I've already finished the Chinese torture assessment I'm going to apply to my students. So why don't I just go lay in Morpheus's arms?
I'll tell you why. Something is eating my computer, from the inside out. I'm absolutely sure of it.
____________________________________________________________
Okay a whole day and night has gone by, William woke up and I gave in and went to bed. In the meantime, things with MAGI (my computer) have deteriorated further. I hear the whirring of the hard drive, in symphony with a new sound, and echo of itself, except it´s coming from the speakers. Programs randomly go on strike and my antivirus disables itself. I´m convinced there´s a little gremlin eating away at MAGI´s guts. I´m going to open her up with a screwdriver, with only a big kitchen knife to defend myself from whatever is in there. Maybe it´s a mini toy alien....
There are some things humanity was not meant to know...
In other news, my dad finally gave in to his authoritarian genes and told/ordered me not to go out last night. No point arguing, since after all I am living under his roof, but it annoys me all the same. Fidgetsticks... I feel like im living in animal farm under the rule of the Orwelian pigs. Dad´s catch phrase , "I never tell you that you can´t go out.", was sabotaged in the dead of night, and now there´s a sloppily scrawled on addition: "I never tell you you can go out, at a reasonable hour.¨" How is 9:00 o´clock to 12:00 o´clock unreasonable? And don´t tell me I´ll understand when my son hits puberty, because I won´t, I´m going to be the coolest mom to ever grace this earth.
Of course, I´m already in the proccess of being said uber-cool mom, which gives us plenty to argue about...
Dad: Don´t let him put his hand in the guacamole!
Me: But he´s exploring his surroundings and developing his sense of touch Dad (slight whine).
Dad: He´s making a mess!
Me: That can be cleaned.
Dad: And who´s going to clean it?
William: BUA!
You get the idea.
The day before last I had a test that was going to make up 30% of my Development of Human Thought course. I´m notorious for last minute study marathons, but unfortunately I fell asleep at my post and managed to study only the first page of the study guide.
So it was with some trepidation that I sat at my desk and took out a blank page while Jesus (my profesor) went on about concrete, personal, and open questions. He gave us 3 seconds to answer the first question after which we were to pass our piece of paper to the front and get ready for the next question.
Jesus: Okay the first question is.... on a scale from 1 to 10 how much did you study? ONE...
Me (in my head): Oh shit... um....what shall I write? 1?
Jesus: TWO...
Me(in my head): plus a 0 of course...10 yes that sounds about right...
Jesus: THREE!
Turns out that was the whole exam 'cos Jesus trusts us...
I'll tell you why. Something is eating my computer, from the inside out. I'm absolutely sure of it.
____________________________________________________________
Okay a whole day and night has gone by, William woke up and I gave in and went to bed. In the meantime, things with MAGI (my computer) have deteriorated further. I hear the whirring of the hard drive, in symphony with a new sound, and echo of itself, except it´s coming from the speakers. Programs randomly go on strike and my antivirus disables itself. I´m convinced there´s a little gremlin eating away at MAGI´s guts. I´m going to open her up with a screwdriver, with only a big kitchen knife to defend myself from whatever is in there. Maybe it´s a mini toy alien....
There are some things humanity was not meant to know...
In other news, my dad finally gave in to his authoritarian genes and told/ordered me not to go out last night. No point arguing, since after all I am living under his roof, but it annoys me all the same. Fidgetsticks... I feel like im living in animal farm under the rule of the Orwelian pigs. Dad´s catch phrase , "I never tell you that you can´t go out.", was sabotaged in the dead of night, and now there´s a sloppily scrawled on addition: "I never tell you you can go out, at a reasonable hour.¨" How is 9:00 o´clock to 12:00 o´clock unreasonable? And don´t tell me I´ll understand when my son hits puberty, because I won´t, I´m going to be the coolest mom to ever grace this earth.
Of course, I´m already in the proccess of being said uber-cool mom, which gives us plenty to argue about...
Dad: Don´t let him put his hand in the guacamole!
Me: But he´s exploring his surroundings and developing his sense of touch Dad (slight whine).
Dad: He´s making a mess!
Me: That can be cleaned.
Dad: And who´s going to clean it?
William: BUA!
You get the idea.
The day before last I had a test that was going to make up 30% of my Development of Human Thought course. I´m notorious for last minute study marathons, but unfortunately I fell asleep at my post and managed to study only the first page of the study guide.
So it was with some trepidation that I sat at my desk and took out a blank page while Jesus (my profesor) went on about concrete, personal, and open questions. He gave us 3 seconds to answer the first question after which we were to pass our piece of paper to the front and get ready for the next question.
Jesus: Okay the first question is.... on a scale from 1 to 10 how much did you study? ONE...
Me (in my head): Oh shit... um....what shall I write? 1?
Jesus: TWO...
Me(in my head): plus a 0 of course...10 yes that sounds about right...
Jesus: THREE!
Turns out that was the whole exam 'cos Jesus trusts us...
Friday, November 11, 2005
Is This Really Me, Or is it Just My Perception of Me perceiving Myself...
Advanced Global Personality Test Results
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personality tests by similarminds.com
Raindrops are falling on my head...
I´m at uni, chatting on msn with people sitting in the same room. How sad is that? The triumph of Bill Gates. Earlier I had a very enlightning Mexican Economic Structure lesson, turns out one of our disgraced expresidents shot his maid dead when he was little. Obviously off to an early start.
Mum might come back tonight or tomorrow, I can´t wait. Saturday I might head down to an anime expo. I want to dress William up as something, maybe a little anime kitten. I love facepaints, when I was babysitting in France I discovered I had a flair for it. William is a great model as well, he´ll stay still for me and smiles when I show him the change in a mirror.
Also, glancing through the gorgeous conceptart.org and worrying about all the coursework I have to hand in next week...
Mum might come back tonight or tomorrow, I can´t wait. Saturday I might head down to an anime expo. I want to dress William up as something, maybe a little anime kitten. I love facepaints, when I was babysitting in France I discovered I had a flair for it. William is a great model as well, he´ll stay still for me and smiles when I show him the change in a mirror.
Also, glancing through the gorgeous conceptart.org and worrying about all the coursework I have to hand in next week...
Thursday, November 10, 2005
Are You Ready to Rumble?
In an ideal wolrd I type medium sized posts and I post them often. This is not, however, an ideal world, and I haven't been able to post lately for a variety of reasons, so this is going to be one huge mammoth post to get me through the winter. Right now I'm downloading fonts off the internet and listening to Placebo's "Every You, Every Me". Be warned, that's the sort of mood I'm in, complicity, elitism, and confusion are my main drives at the moment. I accidentaly watched an episode of the OC (it just fills me with morbid curiosity), and have been left craving a meddling life-long best friend.
I want to make a zombie movie, set in Mexico and riddled with all our little eccentricities. My favourite scene in this imaginary script so far has one of the main characters in a car full of zombies, and he can't get out, because being a good used Mexican vehicle, it's riddled with faults, making it a real knack to open a door. This might seem a bit far fetched to some of you 1st worlders out there but it's really common here. My own car is a perfect example, the door on the driver's side won't open, the passenger door only opens from the outside, and the passenger seat slides forward when I break.
Ah yes, my car. I'm not a big fan of cars, in fact I'd rather get around on public transport, but I have to admit they come in handy. I call it the Millenium Falcon (please don't sue me Mr. Lucas!) and on Tuesday I manged to warp speed it into a gate at university. It was rather bizarre, one moment I was driving along and the next thing I knew, I was hugging my steering wheel. I had to laugh my head off, along with all the university gardeners who just happened to be standing around. The Falcon looks like a werewolf bit a chunk out of it. I'm fine, just hurt my right hand a bit, and at least my sister started putting her seat belt on without me having to threaten to kick her out of a moving vehicle...
My father has discovered blogging. I nearly had a heart attack when I saw him looking up "blog" on wikipeda. I love my dad, but I'm terrible at telling him about myself and the way I see things, and I wouldn't want to have to explain every line of every post to him. But what are the chances of him stumbling across this anyways (famous last words)?
Talking about uncomfortable conversations, Daddy confronted me about Mr. Rockstar again. I ended up admitting I like him, and we got into a really uncomfortable conversation about my "needs". Ewwwww, is all I can say. Now I'm usually really open when talking about said needs, but with my Dad I draw the line. As usual it was an interrumpted conversation (by the weekly grocery shopping), so I don't know if he understands my position but he seemed to be willing to accept that I'm going to be dating. I think. Then again with him I never can tell. I wish we would talk more, really talk, not this cat and mouse game of him trying to get me to come out of my padded room and me bracing up against the door and shouting "SHE'S NOT IN!". It might have helped if he hadn't had such a "children must be seen and not heard" policy when I was younger, and if I could put up with having an argument or two. He says I take things to heart too much and maybe he's right.
I had a really great dream the other night. I was on holiday on a private island, complete with Puff Daddy hosing people down with choclate milkshake and asking them to enjoy the hospitality. Mom, William, and I were walking along the beach, which I was starting to notice was full of crabs. I just managed to pick William up out of the path of one of the little snapping sods, while my mum was poking them with her foot. She thought it was really funny until she poked a half buried orange shell, and out came a meter wide crab with a mean look in its eye. It advanced towards her snapping it's claws shut menacingly and she calmly told me to distract it. Mother DOESN'T know best, but I didn't want to be ungrateful so I poked it with my foot. Of course, it decided to have a poke back, I retreated slightly and began to levitate out of its reach.
At this point I was starting to suspect I was dreaming, so I shot up into the sky till I could see the Earth's curvature and floated there spinning and holding my son, telling him about the atmosphere and the stars. I felt real peace up there in the rim of the world. After a while we dropped back to Earth in free fall, with a few short rewinds to adjust our trajectory. When we reached the island I floated from tree to tree trying to find a good spot to observe the surroundings. I began thinking about how we could go anywhere we wanted, and in a thought we were in the ocean, observing a Great White shark from our own little air bubble. It swam around us a couple of times, watching us with his great big black eyes. A group of dolphins joined the scene, and I hitched a ride with on e by grabbing on to its dorsal fin. I love dreaming, I really can go anywhere and do anything. I can read, travel with a thought and it only makes it even more interesting that everyone's out to get me.
Speaking of dreams, Rachel had a pretty fancy one were I was an elegant Victorian dame, just released from prison, charming as hell, and with a dashing man by my side. I hope someone invents a dream recorder/player in my time. We could leave such a beautifully surreal legacy. That's probably one of the reasons I like Jeff Noon so much. If you haven't already, go get Vurt, and don't come back till you do!
We have a few crazy waking dreams. The most recent one is "The Society for the Revival of Roman Customs". Our patron goddesses are Venus and Eris (Love and Discord), and one of the first customs we want to bring back is the gladiator sports, although instead of slaves those aspiring to court us can duel to the death. It would save us a lot of time...
Another one of our dreams is to set in motion a Master Plan to dominate the world however, it's her job to come up with the plan...
Sigh, don't you just hate akward reunions? My friend Ivonne had a Halloween party last week, to which I showed up as a ghost, although everyone thought I was a bride. A guy I really used to fancy was also there, and on the one hand it was nice to see him 'cos he's quite charming, and it was reassuring to know he no longer makes monarch butterflies take flight in my guts, but on the other he also gave me the weirdest look when he saw I was with Mr. Rockstar, and he put "our" song on the jukebox. I'll never understand the logic in males' minds: they say they want to win you over, disappear for 3 months and then act funny when they realize you haven't been holding your breath waiting for them to come back.
The bank round the block from my house was held up today. That's the second time in as many months...
I want to make a zombie movie, set in Mexico and riddled with all our little eccentricities. My favourite scene in this imaginary script so far has one of the main characters in a car full of zombies, and he can't get out, because being a good used Mexican vehicle, it's riddled with faults, making it a real knack to open a door. This might seem a bit far fetched to some of you 1st worlders out there but it's really common here. My own car is a perfect example, the door on the driver's side won't open, the passenger door only opens from the outside, and the passenger seat slides forward when I break.
Ah yes, my car. I'm not a big fan of cars, in fact I'd rather get around on public transport, but I have to admit they come in handy. I call it the Millenium Falcon (please don't sue me Mr. Lucas!) and on Tuesday I manged to warp speed it into a gate at university. It was rather bizarre, one moment I was driving along and the next thing I knew, I was hugging my steering wheel. I had to laugh my head off, along with all the university gardeners who just happened to be standing around. The Falcon looks like a werewolf bit a chunk out of it. I'm fine, just hurt my right hand a bit, and at least my sister started putting her seat belt on without me having to threaten to kick her out of a moving vehicle...
My father has discovered blogging. I nearly had a heart attack when I saw him looking up "blog" on wikipeda. I love my dad, but I'm terrible at telling him about myself and the way I see things, and I wouldn't want to have to explain every line of every post to him. But what are the chances of him stumbling across this anyways (famous last words)?
Talking about uncomfortable conversations, Daddy confronted me about Mr. Rockstar again. I ended up admitting I like him, and we got into a really uncomfortable conversation about my "needs". Ewwwww, is all I can say. Now I'm usually really open when talking about said needs, but with my Dad I draw the line. As usual it was an interrumpted conversation (by the weekly grocery shopping), so I don't know if he understands my position but he seemed to be willing to accept that I'm going to be dating. I think. Then again with him I never can tell. I wish we would talk more, really talk, not this cat and mouse game of him trying to get me to come out of my padded room and me bracing up against the door and shouting "SHE'S NOT IN!". It might have helped if he hadn't had such a "children must be seen and not heard" policy when I was younger, and if I could put up with having an argument or two. He says I take things to heart too much and maybe he's right.
I had a really great dream the other night. I was on holiday on a private island, complete with Puff Daddy hosing people down with choclate milkshake and asking them to enjoy the hospitality. Mom, William, and I were walking along the beach, which I was starting to notice was full of crabs. I just managed to pick William up out of the path of one of the little snapping sods, while my mum was poking them with her foot. She thought it was really funny until she poked a half buried orange shell, and out came a meter wide crab with a mean look in its eye. It advanced towards her snapping it's claws shut menacingly and she calmly told me to distract it. Mother DOESN'T know best, but I didn't want to be ungrateful so I poked it with my foot. Of course, it decided to have a poke back, I retreated slightly and began to levitate out of its reach.
At this point I was starting to suspect I was dreaming, so I shot up into the sky till I could see the Earth's curvature and floated there spinning and holding my son, telling him about the atmosphere and the stars. I felt real peace up there in the rim of the world. After a while we dropped back to Earth in free fall, with a few short rewinds to adjust our trajectory. When we reached the island I floated from tree to tree trying to find a good spot to observe the surroundings. I began thinking about how we could go anywhere we wanted, and in a thought we were in the ocean, observing a Great White shark from our own little air bubble. It swam around us a couple of times, watching us with his great big black eyes. A group of dolphins joined the scene, and I hitched a ride with on e by grabbing on to its dorsal fin. I love dreaming, I really can go anywhere and do anything. I can read, travel with a thought and it only makes it even more interesting that everyone's out to get me.
Speaking of dreams, Rachel had a pretty fancy one were I was an elegant Victorian dame, just released from prison, charming as hell, and with a dashing man by my side. I hope someone invents a dream recorder/player in my time. We could leave such a beautifully surreal legacy. That's probably one of the reasons I like Jeff Noon so much. If you haven't already, go get Vurt, and don't come back till you do!
We have a few crazy waking dreams. The most recent one is "The Society for the Revival of Roman Customs". Our patron goddesses are Venus and Eris (Love and Discord), and one of the first customs we want to bring back is the gladiator sports, although instead of slaves those aspiring to court us can duel to the death. It would save us a lot of time...
Another one of our dreams is to set in motion a Master Plan to dominate the world however, it's her job to come up with the plan...
Sigh, don't you just hate akward reunions? My friend Ivonne had a Halloween party last week, to which I showed up as a ghost, although everyone thought I was a bride. A guy I really used to fancy was also there, and on the one hand it was nice to see him 'cos he's quite charming, and it was reassuring to know he no longer makes monarch butterflies take flight in my guts, but on the other he also gave me the weirdest look when he saw I was with Mr. Rockstar, and he put "our" song on the jukebox. I'll never understand the logic in males' minds: they say they want to win you over, disappear for 3 months and then act funny when they realize you haven't been holding your breath waiting for them to come back.
The bank round the block from my house was held up today. That's the second time in as many months...
Thursday, October 27, 2005
Drowning In My Own Inspiration...
...or is that my own mucus? I have a terrible cold, much worse than the one I had last winter. My head hurts, my sinuses are pounding, and my nose won't stop dripping. However, the muse kept me up for the better part of last night, something that always happens when I look at things like this : www.conceptart.org
There's a few drawings, paintings, and sculptures I want to get round to, but I just haven't the time or the materials. Last night I kept thinking about drawing myself as Insomniatica, (guess what her pet peeve is) with her long, flat, messy, hair, dark bags under her eyes, and pajamas that just won't fit comfortably; possibly worshiping comatose at her computer, not quite giving into sleep but hardly in the realm of conscious thought either.
The other project that came to me last night will be called "Venus in Furs" or "Diana versus Aphrodite". I want to paint one of my virginal classmates surrounded by menacing wolves. "What is it with the wolf thing?", you might ask. Yes I know I'm obsessed, and I already made a giant she wolf hybrid sculpture, but surely you can never have enough of a good thing?
I saw the esclafowne movie last week and I have to say I was terribly disappointed with the plot and character development, everyone seemed a bit 2 dimensional and pointless. Although the animation was beautiful, if a bit dark at times.
I've been imagining weird people and faeries all week. I think I overloaded the left side of my brain with university and it's time for the Revenge of the Right Hemisphere. This morning while I was driving the kids to school there were three long clouds in the sky, it looked like there was a giant angel standing far away on the other side of the city, it's wings outstretched towards heaven. The third cloud was long and thin, reminding me of Longinus's spear, brandished towards some unseen enemy. When I got a second glimpse the clouds had risen higher into the air with the sun shinning through one of the wings; it was a truly beautiful sight. And yes, I've seen one episode too many of Evagelion by the looks of things.
Edit: Jesus Christ on a pogo stick, I'm glad I came back to check this post. It was full of truly nonhabitual spelling mistakes, and I wrote it exactly like I would have said it, FAST. Throw caution and punctuation to the wind I say!
There's a few drawings, paintings, and sculptures I want to get round to, but I just haven't the time or the materials. Last night I kept thinking about drawing myself as Insomniatica, (guess what her pet peeve is) with her long, flat, messy, hair, dark bags under her eyes, and pajamas that just won't fit comfortably; possibly worshiping comatose at her computer, not quite giving into sleep but hardly in the realm of conscious thought either.
The other project that came to me last night will be called "Venus in Furs" or "Diana versus Aphrodite". I want to paint one of my virginal classmates surrounded by menacing wolves. "What is it with the wolf thing?", you might ask. Yes I know I'm obsessed, and I already made a giant she wolf hybrid sculpture, but surely you can never have enough of a good thing?
I saw the esclafowne movie last week and I have to say I was terribly disappointed with the plot and character development, everyone seemed a bit 2 dimensional and pointless. Although the animation was beautiful, if a bit dark at times.
I've been imagining weird people and faeries all week. I think I overloaded the left side of my brain with university and it's time for the Revenge of the Right Hemisphere. This morning while I was driving the kids to school there were three long clouds in the sky, it looked like there was a giant angel standing far away on the other side of the city, it's wings outstretched towards heaven. The third cloud was long and thin, reminding me of Longinus's spear, brandished towards some unseen enemy. When I got a second glimpse the clouds had risen higher into the air with the sun shinning through one of the wings; it was a truly beautiful sight. And yes, I've seen one episode too many of Evagelion by the looks of things.
Edit: Jesus Christ on a pogo stick, I'm glad I came back to check this post. It was full of truly nonhabitual spelling mistakes, and I wrote it exactly like I would have said it, FAST. Throw caution and punctuation to the wind I say!
Friday, October 21, 2005
Ladeeda
Just a quick update to appease my fans (well okay Rachel and Eric, who I love dearly, and not just because they read my blog). University is going well, just had a communication exam out of the twilight zone. It was about non verbal communication, and the teacher gave me the most unrelated questions, at least in relation to the study guide. Are eating disorders social problems? Then again I shouldn't complain it was an easy 10 - I love verbal exams!
Phone bill came in the mail today X_X. I've made 40 dlrs worth of calls to the rockstar's mobile phone, and am in deep trouble as a result. Dad hasn't seen it yet so I'm looking for daring and foolish ideas to avoid punishment. The best one so far has been hiding the bill, raising the money with a garage sale and paying it myself. The easiest alternative, if utterly unpleasant, would be to listen to the lecture....I think I might sleep on it over the weekend...
William had his first proper barf. It was very scary, like the one in the exorcist except it was yellow. Speaking of which, I have to go pick him up from daycare, but I'll post more tomorrow.
Phone bill came in the mail today X_X. I've made 40 dlrs worth of calls to the rockstar's mobile phone, and am in deep trouble as a result. Dad hasn't seen it yet so I'm looking for daring and foolish ideas to avoid punishment. The best one so far has been hiding the bill, raising the money with a garage sale and paying it myself. The easiest alternative, if utterly unpleasant, would be to listen to the lecture....I think I might sleep on it over the weekend...
William had his first proper barf. It was very scary, like the one in the exorcist except it was yellow. Speaking of which, I have to go pick him up from daycare, but I'll post more tomorrow.
Sunday, October 09, 2005
The Adventures of Gorgeous Chaparrita and Awesome Rocker
People reading this outside of Mexico will find this hilarious. I laughed for about half an hour straight when it was explained to me, although my Mexican readers might wonder: "What's so bloody funny, pendeja?"
There are a couple of factors in Mexican culture that make it quite unlikely anyone that isn't married is going to be able to have sex at home. For starters most people live with their parents till they get married, especially women. There is a small number of professionals that move out, but that's a minority that tends to be over 30. Second, more likely than not, there's usually going to be someone at home since a lot of women are still home makers and most families have at least 2 or 3 children.
Then there's the morality issue (or the pretending to have morality issue, at least). Mexico is a Catholic country and we get a bit carried away sometimes. Well not really we, I'm not even baptized (which makes me the spawn of the devil as far as most people here are concerned). Having sex before marriage is generally frowned upon, again, particularly if you're a woman. Getting caught at home would probably involve either getting kicked out or being locked in for the next 2 years. I'm possibly exaggerating, but in any case one would be in BIG trouble. And anyhow, who wants to get caught doing it by their parents?
So does everyone abstain and behave like good little chaste boys and girls? Not on your life. Fortunately, some enterprising soul came up with motels. Motels, you ask? Aren't those like hotels except you park right outside your room? Not here. You want somewhere to spend the night you go to a hotel. You want somewhere for a little privacy and love (okay, imagine Barry White's voice for this), you go down to a motel, baby.
I always wondered why all the Motels around here have really high walls. The layout is basically the same, one drives in, pays up at a window (or someone comes out to get the money), and is given a number. The number indicates what garage one's going to drive into. They have little automatic doors to eliminate the worry about anyone seeing your car at a motel, tsk tsk. These places charge about 26 dollars for 9 hours for a simple room. A suite with a jacuzzi will cost twice as much. Quite the business. Maybe not as good as sitting outside with a camera and blackmailing people though.
There are a couple of factors in Mexican culture that make it quite unlikely anyone that isn't married is going to be able to have sex at home. For starters most people live with their parents till they get married, especially women. There is a small number of professionals that move out, but that's a minority that tends to be over 30. Second, more likely than not, there's usually going to be someone at home since a lot of women are still home makers and most families have at least 2 or 3 children.
Then there's the morality issue (or the pretending to have morality issue, at least). Mexico is a Catholic country and we get a bit carried away sometimes. Well not really we, I'm not even baptized (which makes me the spawn of the devil as far as most people here are concerned). Having sex before marriage is generally frowned upon, again, particularly if you're a woman. Getting caught at home would probably involve either getting kicked out or being locked in for the next 2 years. I'm possibly exaggerating, but in any case one would be in BIG trouble. And anyhow, who wants to get caught doing it by their parents?
So does everyone abstain and behave like good little chaste boys and girls? Not on your life. Fortunately, some enterprising soul came up with motels. Motels, you ask? Aren't those like hotels except you park right outside your room? Not here. You want somewhere to spend the night you go to a hotel. You want somewhere for a little privacy and love (okay, imagine Barry White's voice for this), you go down to a motel, baby.
I always wondered why all the Motels around here have really high walls. The layout is basically the same, one drives in, pays up at a window (or someone comes out to get the money), and is given a number. The number indicates what garage one's going to drive into. They have little automatic doors to eliminate the worry about anyone seeing your car at a motel, tsk tsk. These places charge about 26 dollars for 9 hours for a simple room. A suite with a jacuzzi will cost twice as much. Quite the business. Maybe not as good as sitting outside with a camera and blackmailing people though.
Tuesday, October 04, 2005
Oh Dear...
Mmmm have I mentioned I'm paranoid? And I'm not even clever enough to do it undercover. I feel like Charlie Brown some days, I seem to worry about all the wrong people and especially about all the wrong, insignificant, off hand comments. I'll analyze till I've time-space traveled through every possible Universe and then some. Basically, I though R had fibbed about being a good little English teacher and going to do his lesson plans, when he was actually planning on going to see footie with a friend. In fact, although he did go watch the footie, he hadn't planned to apparently, and to be fair, I have no reason to doubt him...except for THAT phone call...but see, there I go doing it again. In any case, I take it all back, not all men are lying scumbags. Just most of them.
In other news, I had a nice weekend, Friday involved clubbing as usual, me and co. went to the Ole Caribe (How quaint, no?); Saturday R's band played at the Pedro's a.k.a. Peter's house, which was really neat. There was a guy there so high, I have to wonder if space cowboy ever came down. I also met Tania's sister in law, Nayeli who is lovely and is going to do my nails, and Isella (I think that's how you spell it) who was really nice. And I'm not just saying that because she called me linda. All in all, people I want to see again.
Sunday involved attempting to clean the house again, but we have chaos and filth sprites who disagree. I swear I clean a room and the second I leave for a moment it goes right back to how it was. The fact that we have a baby in the house can't have anything to do with it...can it? I also went to a great seafood restaurant, " La Bahia" with William and R. We had cocktails and oysters. I absolutely love oysters, I think they're fantabulous. And I like chewing them too, I don't give a toss how one's supposed to eat them. Question: Is my fake British accent as good as Madonna's? Take into account I don't have a voice coach. I also went into paranoia overdrive as mentioned above, which was spurred on by a little phone conversation, which was itself ignited by a little football match: Mexico vs. Brazil. And guess what? WE ARE THE CHAMPIONS! Yes, MEXICO is now world champion! Hurrah! Okay so it was the under 17's division, but that doesn't matter, they'll be playing in the big leagues soon enough.
I have a problem. I want to kill someone. Genuinely. Who do you think it might be? Answers on a postcard to the usual address. I'm not going to kill them, but for all the wrong reasons and it's bothering me. In a nutshell, one of my mom's friend's husbands seems to have been raping their 3 year and 9 month old girls, and has been definately sleeping with his 15 year old niece. It doesn't look like anyone is going to do anything to put the bastard behind bars and who's to say he won't go and do it again. I keep trying to remember that all human life has worth and that it's not my place in the grand scheme of things to go avenge anything, much as I'd like to be Batman or The Punisher in my comic book fed fantasy world. But I could, if I wanted to and without risking myself too much. Well though out plans involving poison, self defense or a pig farm could all do the trick...so why don't I? I have no illusions that I'm overcoming my base instincts and am deep down a noble soul. Maybe I'm just scared that if I cross that line nothing will be the same again. Maybe I'll want to kill more people. Maybe the fact that he's a total jerk and deserves it is just an excuse? Maybe I'm just full of my own bullshit.
I talked to my dad about how I was feeling, and he gave me the standard issue,
-"It's none of your business, hopefully the wife will talk to the police, leave it up to the Big Man in the Sky."
I think that is too much of a cop out, and I told him so,
-"But I don't trust the Big Man."
-" That is the source of all your sorrows, and it will continue to be until you entrust yourself to him."
WTF!? Why is it so wrong that I want to take responsibility for myself and my surroundings. I don't think leaving everything up to the will of some figment of some Jew's imagination is going to fix anything. For the mean time, I'm trying to remind myself why killing other human beings is wrong...
I thought I heard little stones tapping at my window. I'm given to romantic flights of fancy of that sort. But alas, the street is empty and there's no heavyweight jumping beans sitting on my window ledge.
In other news, I had a nice weekend, Friday involved clubbing as usual, me and co. went to the Ole Caribe (How quaint, no?); Saturday R's band played at the Pedro's a.k.a. Peter's house, which was really neat. There was a guy there so high, I have to wonder if space cowboy ever came down. I also met Tania's sister in law, Nayeli who is lovely and is going to do my nails, and Isella (I think that's how you spell it) who was really nice. And I'm not just saying that because she called me linda. All in all, people I want to see again.
Sunday involved attempting to clean the house again, but we have chaos and filth sprites who disagree. I swear I clean a room and the second I leave for a moment it goes right back to how it was. The fact that we have a baby in the house can't have anything to do with it...can it? I also went to a great seafood restaurant, " La Bahia" with William and R. We had cocktails and oysters. I absolutely love oysters, I think they're fantabulous. And I like chewing them too, I don't give a toss how one's supposed to eat them. Question: Is my fake British accent as good as Madonna's? Take into account I don't have a voice coach. I also went into paranoia overdrive as mentioned above, which was spurred on by a little phone conversation, which was itself ignited by a little football match: Mexico vs. Brazil. And guess what? WE ARE THE CHAMPIONS! Yes, MEXICO is now world champion! Hurrah! Okay so it was the under 17's division, but that doesn't matter, they'll be playing in the big leagues soon enough.
I have a problem. I want to kill someone. Genuinely. Who do you think it might be? Answers on a postcard to the usual address. I'm not going to kill them, but for all the wrong reasons and it's bothering me. In a nutshell, one of my mom's friend's husbands seems to have been raping their 3 year and 9 month old girls, and has been definately sleeping with his 15 year old niece. It doesn't look like anyone is going to do anything to put the bastard behind bars and who's to say he won't go and do it again. I keep trying to remember that all human life has worth and that it's not my place in the grand scheme of things to go avenge anything, much as I'd like to be Batman or The Punisher in my comic book fed fantasy world. But I could, if I wanted to and without risking myself too much. Well though out plans involving poison, self defense or a pig farm could all do the trick...so why don't I? I have no illusions that I'm overcoming my base instincts and am deep down a noble soul. Maybe I'm just scared that if I cross that line nothing will be the same again. Maybe I'll want to kill more people. Maybe the fact that he's a total jerk and deserves it is just an excuse? Maybe I'm just full of my own bullshit.
I talked to my dad about how I was feeling, and he gave me the standard issue,
-"It's none of your business, hopefully the wife will talk to the police, leave it up to the Big Man in the Sky."
I think that is too much of a cop out, and I told him so,
-"But I don't trust the Big Man."
-" That is the source of all your sorrows, and it will continue to be until you entrust yourself to him."
WTF!? Why is it so wrong that I want to take responsibility for myself and my surroundings. I don't think leaving everything up to the will of some figment of some Jew's imagination is going to fix anything. For the mean time, I'm trying to remind myself why killing other human beings is wrong...
I thought I heard little stones tapping at my window. I'm given to romantic flights of fancy of that sort. But alas, the street is empty and there's no heavyweight jumping beans sitting on my window ledge.
Thursday, September 29, 2005
A Little Bird Told Me
There's a fair in Mexicali, the Sun Parties or for a better, less literal translation, the Sun Celebrations. So far so good, it's considered quite Naco, but I love fairs. They're full of people and rusty machines, and clever gypsies that you just know will fleece you for all they can, but you play along anyways.
I really should have been at home preparing a presentation for Uni, but my mum had already promised my little brother and sister that I'd take them for me. What harm is another night of labouring away at the computer with no sort of sleep, R.E.M. or otherwise, going to do? We ran around the fair just looking at everything, argued about children not straying too far, stood around the candy floss machine waiting for little webs of diabetes inducing floss to float by, etc. Naty and Andy got to go on a couple of rides, and play a few dodgy luck games. I think thy had a good time, and so did William. It was his first fair and he got to walk around a bit too and get dazzled by all the lights. Oh I nearly forgot, there was a stand from the local zoo as well and we got to pet a baby camel and a python. William's favourite was a puma in a cage though, he got all excited and started bouncing up and down and schreeching at the kitty, who seemed absolutely nonplused.
While we were walking around I spotted a fortune teller, so of course I had to go see what the canary had in store for me. No, that's not a typo, a bird told me my fortune. People carry them around in cute, colorful, little, wooden cages nailed to a board with a stick for support and a little box full of folded up printed fortunes. The little bird pops out as soon as the door is opened and picks a fortune, and sometimes they'll do a little routine as well. They're trained to pull little toy cars, ring little bells, chug back little toy cups and pick up little hats. It was one of my favourite things about going to an art market with my mom and aunt when I was younger, and I wanted William to have a look. He was mesmerized by the birds, even though they didn't do a show. My fortune read:
I really should have been at home preparing a presentation for Uni, but my mum had already promised my little brother and sister that I'd take them for me. What harm is another night of labouring away at the computer with no sort of sleep, R.E.M. or otherwise, going to do? We ran around the fair just looking at everything, argued about children not straying too far, stood around the candy floss machine waiting for little webs of diabetes inducing floss to float by, etc. Naty and Andy got to go on a couple of rides, and play a few dodgy luck games. I think thy had a good time, and so did William. It was his first fair and he got to walk around a bit too and get dazzled by all the lights. Oh I nearly forgot, there was a stand from the local zoo as well and we got to pet a baby camel and a python. William's favourite was a puma in a cage though, he got all excited and started bouncing up and down and schreeching at the kitty, who seemed absolutely nonplused.
While we were walking around I spotted a fortune teller, so of course I had to go see what the canary had in store for me. No, that's not a typo, a bird told me my fortune. People carry them around in cute, colorful, little, wooden cages nailed to a board with a stick for support and a little box full of folded up printed fortunes. The little bird pops out as soon as the door is opened and picks a fortune, and sometimes they'll do a little routine as well. They're trained to pull little toy cars, ring little bells, chug back little toy cups and pick up little hats. It was one of my favourite things about going to an art market with my mom and aunt when I was younger, and I wanted William to have a look. He was mesmerized by the birds, even though they didn't do a show. My fortune read:
FORTUNE STAR
SPECIAL
Your love is corresponded,
the person that you love only thinks about you day and night,
don't stop loving them intensely for they will give you the
keys with which you will open the road to happiness,
you must be faithfull to them since shattering their affection
would be betraying your own heart.
I have more to tell you...
It should have really read something more like: "You're about to get robbed!" The fortune teller said there were three boys deeply in love with me and that I had to choose one of them, the one I loved the most. But I should be careful, because there is a girl who is envious of me and she was getting in the way of my happiness. If I wanted to know which boy to pick, and how to get rid of the green goblin, I had to buy 9 other little fortune papers for 250 pesos. That's roughly 25 dollars, which is roughly 12.50 pounds sterling. I told him I had enough with the first fortune and wanted to enjoy the mystery of not kowing. "Suit yourself" he said, and charged me 50 pesos for the priviledge, which is about 5 dollars, which itself is about 2.50 pounds. It might not seem like much, but you can have a small meal with that amount here, and I thought it was a bit steep, but I payed up anyways.
You see, I hate arguing about prices, and I'd already broken the two cardinal rules of aquiring goods and services at a fair:
1) Never ask "How much do I owe you?". If you do you're giving them an open invitation to set a high price.
2) Always look around before buying that way you know what the going price for things is. I later found out everyone else was charging 10 pesos for the fortune telling, which is about a dollar, or 50 pence for you Limeys.
In any case I wasn't too miffed, and I hope the old man put the money to good use.
We rounded things up with vanilla ice lollies, much more pleasant that the rounding up I must go do know, involving putting mole in the fridge, washing a pair of socks for William, cleaning his shoes, and cutting his nails. I've got the flu to boot and its already 12:13 am...
Wednesday, September 28, 2005
Chicken Little
I just got home. I only had to walk four blocks, but it's 11 a.m. and already the sun was cooking the top of my head. I'm tired, I'm dusty and I'm annoyed at the human race. More specifically at one half, (a little less than half actually, so watch it, we have you outnumbered) you know who you are. Due to the macho culture here in Mexico, I just had to put up with about a dozen idiot's remarks and whistles of admiration for me. This isn't even much of a vanity lift, becuase these are guys that would probably screw their own cousin, even if she was fat and ugly. And what's the deal with whistles anyway? Where do they think that's going to get them anyways? One whistle and I'm supposed to hop in their car and fulfill their wildest fantasies? Go look for Fido you twits. At least during my morning walk to school I get kisses blown at me, I guess they're in a more romantic mood. Mind you, they're disgusting sloppy wet kisses, so it's not much of an improvement.
Monday, September 26, 2005
My computer ate the title...
Be warned, you are not about to go weak at the knees with envy of my weekend. This post is probably only for die hard Silvia fans...and psychologists...and the FBI.. oh okay, you can all stay and read it. Friday was easy going, I was meant to go clubbing but, couldn't be bothered at the end because of time, money, and some of the company. Stayed in with R instead and watched "Team America", fuck yeah!, and "the Hitchhicker's Guide to the Galaxy". I'd been wanting to watch both films for a long time, and I was not dissapointed. Trey and Matt really outdid themselves, I couldn't stop laughing and singing "America, fuck yeah!". About half an hour at Uni today was dedicated to talking about it with my classmates. So much for higher education.
The "Hitchhicker's guide to the Galaxy" is amazing, I think Douglas Adams would have been happy with it. Marvin is my favourite depresed robot of all time. I want to see both films again in Spanish, it would be quite interesting to see what they do to replace the English slang.
Saturday I stayed in because William had a cold and was being quite miserable about it, so I stayed in bedwatching "Snatch" with him. Well, not watching it with him, he was asleep, I'm not that BAD of a mother. I love England, and all the weird accents that live there, so this film just does it for me, but I reccomend it for anyone with a sense of humour and a penchant for gangsters.
Sunday was GREAT. Why is for you to ponder and me to know! This tidbit of info would have you going green with envy, but is of a slightly personal nature, sooo....
And today was also good, if not as spectacular as yesterday. Some idiot in Thought Development left their mobile on, and then wouldn't fess up, so the teacher dismissed us all, thus ruining my perfect record in this class. I'll be writting up the excommuncation papers later this afternoon...
Typing about writting up, I was cleaning up my room yesterday and found something I'd put down on paper a couple of years ago. At the time I thought it was rubbish sentimental crap, and I'm surprised I didn't throw it away. I still don't think it's particularly good, but it's not THAT bad. It gave me a good insight to how my brain worked when i was 17, and it's always nice to read stuff like that. Im putting it up for public scrutiny and just in case the paper copy gets lost, which wouldn't be unusual since I go through phases of getting rid of most everything I own, except for two changes of clothes and my books. This is due to traveling much, and a deep rooted hate of packing.
Theory of the Thermodinamics of Love
1st Law
When one is in love, the prescence of the object of one's affections produces lightheartedness, the so called"butterflies in the stomach" effect, and in most cases, an irrationalgood faith towards the human race. These are all side effects of the emotional heat energy that causes the heart to expand. This expansion is proportional to the love felt.
2nd Law
Emotional or physical distance between the person who is in love and the person thay are in love with produces the loss of of emotional heat. As a result, the atoms of the heart cluster together and the heart shrinks. Symptoms of this "heartache" are sadness, a feeling of heaviness in one's breast, and a sense of desperation. Shrinkage is proportional to the distance between the two figures involved in the romantic reaction.
3rd Law
Repetitive expansion and contraction will, over a long period of time or in frequent succession, result in the weakning of the heart's walls. This will, with certainty, allow the development of fissures, cracks and breakages of the heart.
The "Hitchhicker's guide to the Galaxy" is amazing, I think Douglas Adams would have been happy with it. Marvin is my favourite depresed robot of all time. I want to see both films again in Spanish, it would be quite interesting to see what they do to replace the English slang.
Saturday I stayed in because William had a cold and was being quite miserable about it, so I stayed in bedwatching "Snatch" with him. Well, not watching it with him, he was asleep, I'm not that BAD of a mother. I love England, and all the weird accents that live there, so this film just does it for me, but I reccomend it for anyone with a sense of humour and a penchant for gangsters.
Sunday was GREAT. Why is for you to ponder and me to know! This tidbit of info would have you going green with envy, but is of a slightly personal nature, sooo....
And today was also good, if not as spectacular as yesterday. Some idiot in Thought Development left their mobile on, and then wouldn't fess up, so the teacher dismissed us all, thus ruining my perfect record in this class. I'll be writting up the excommuncation papers later this afternoon...
Typing about writting up, I was cleaning up my room yesterday and found something I'd put down on paper a couple of years ago. At the time I thought it was rubbish sentimental crap, and I'm surprised I didn't throw it away. I still don't think it's particularly good, but it's not THAT bad. It gave me a good insight to how my brain worked when i was 17, and it's always nice to read stuff like that. Im putting it up for public scrutiny and just in case the paper copy gets lost, which wouldn't be unusual since I go through phases of getting rid of most everything I own, except for two changes of clothes and my books. This is due to traveling much, and a deep rooted hate of packing.
Theory of the Thermodinamics of Love
1st Law
When one is in love, the prescence of the object of one's affections produces lightheartedness, the so called"butterflies in the stomach" effect, and in most cases, an irrationalgood faith towards the human race. These are all side effects of the emotional heat energy that causes the heart to expand. This expansion is proportional to the love felt.
2nd Law
Emotional or physical distance between the person who is in love and the person thay are in love with produces the loss of of emotional heat. As a result, the atoms of the heart cluster together and the heart shrinks. Symptoms of this "heartache" are sadness, a feeling of heaviness in one's breast, and a sense of desperation. Shrinkage is proportional to the distance between the two figures involved in the romantic reaction.
3rd Law
Repetitive expansion and contraction will, over a long period of time or in frequent succession, result in the weakning of the heart's walls. This will, with certainty, allow the development of fissures, cracks and breakages of the heart.
Friday, September 23, 2005
Utopian Dream
The latest accusation from my Economic Structure teacher: I'm a Utopian Dreamer. Yes, even I know I'm naive for even imagining that 3rd world countries could infect 1st world countries with a desire to be humanitarian and give up their wealth grubbing ways, but I still like to think it could happen. Maybe I cling to that idea, because even though it is highly unrealistic, and I know that there is no such thing as the innate goodness of man, even that is more tolerable than violence. I'm not a pacifist really, I'm just as likely to clobber someone as the next girl. But the idea of actually doing grieveous bodily harm, killing, displacing families etc, I just couldn't do it.
Mmm, there were about a million things I wanted to post last night, and now that I'm here, sitting with my beloved computer, my brain seems to have dried up and died...so instead here's my evil doodles for the day. The first one is Snow White and 2 of the Seven dwarves. The second one is a strange little bird that came to me during IT class.
Mmm, there were about a million things I wanted to post last night, and now that I'm here, sitting with my beloved computer, my brain seems to have dried up and died...so instead here's my evil doodles for the day. The first one is Snow White and 2 of the Seven dwarves. The second one is a strange little bird that came to me during IT class.
Thursday, September 22, 2005
Why only half?
Apparently I'm half-cocked...who would've known?
http://www.okcupid.com/personality?type=RBSD&g=2&o=1&h=180
Now I must stop taking testS...must resist...oh okay, but just one more..
No, really this is the last one...
I had to delete the angel/demon test because it was messing around with my layout. It basically said " You're the bisexual of the morality scale." I had a 50% Morality, neither evil or good. It is better to be a free spirit, than reign in hell or serve in heaven.
http://www.okcupid.com/personality?type=RBSD&g=2&o=1&h=180
Now I must stop taking testS...must resist...oh okay, but just one more..
No, really this is the last one...
I had to delete the angel/demon test because it was messing around with my layout. It basically said " You're the bisexual of the morality scale." I had a 50% Morality, neither evil or good. It is better to be a free spirit, than reign in hell or serve in heaven.
Your Tax Money at Work
I just managed to interupt a class presentation by showing up late, swinging the door wide open and standing there like a deer in headlights. It´s my worst class to boot, Text elaboration. And not because I can´t elaborate text, it´s just I find the teacher´s technique extremely boring. In any case I didn´t have the nerve to waltz in so I´m in the library, making good use of the IT facilities and posting here.
Wednesday night was good, R and I went to see "Cinderella Man". Straight off the bat, it´s a movie about a boxer, and normally I can´t stand sports themed movies, but this one was passable due to the intertwined theme of the Depression. I still wouldn´t recommend it, there seems to be some attempt at making the man in question the poor man´s champion, but he then goes and gives his benefit money back as soon as he can pay it. Excuse me? That´s his money anyway, that is what he´s been paying taxes for his whole damn life. That said, there wasn´t much else of interest showing, I got more excitement from the¨"Coming Soon" posters. "V for Vendetta" will be showing in a couple of months, I can´t wait.
Yesterday was slightly heartbreaking. I took William to daycare and he couldn´t wait to get out of the car. Normally he´s already making pouty faces and clinging on to me for dear life. But yesterday he was bouncy all the way across the yard, through the door, and nearly tried to wriggle out of my arms. One of the nannies took him and he was fine. He even started waving goodbye before I´d even started for the door. I know I should be pleased he´s adapting so well, and am, I´m even proud of the spunky little fellow. But at the same time it kind of hurts. I don´t even want to think about what´s going to happen when he gets a girlfriend...I´ll most likely become slightly murderous.
I want to take street art to the next level, 3D mainly. I think thousands of little sculptures superglued to walls, floors, trees and bathroom doors all over the city would be an interesting excercise, maybe one to get us out of the black and white sticker rut we´re in (Interesting Fact of the day: Did you know that rut is also another word for intercourse?). Let´s hope this isn´t another artistic idea that goes in the "Later" mental bin, like traditional toys made out of giant Lego blocks, and the giant collage on my bedroom wall made up mostly of blank space. Yeeesss I´m a minimalist, really... Will Buy Time Machine, Any Price. Red model preferably, exchange for ostrich farm in Argentina. I´m looking at you Rachel, stop wasting your time with University and make me one.
And to show off my time wasting skills, here a test:
Wednesday night was good, R and I went to see "Cinderella Man". Straight off the bat, it´s a movie about a boxer, and normally I can´t stand sports themed movies, but this one was passable due to the intertwined theme of the Depression. I still wouldn´t recommend it, there seems to be some attempt at making the man in question the poor man´s champion, but he then goes and gives his benefit money back as soon as he can pay it. Excuse me? That´s his money anyway, that is what he´s been paying taxes for his whole damn life. That said, there wasn´t much else of interest showing, I got more excitement from the¨"Coming Soon" posters. "V for Vendetta" will be showing in a couple of months, I can´t wait.
Yesterday was slightly heartbreaking. I took William to daycare and he couldn´t wait to get out of the car. Normally he´s already making pouty faces and clinging on to me for dear life. But yesterday he was bouncy all the way across the yard, through the door, and nearly tried to wriggle out of my arms. One of the nannies took him and he was fine. He even started waving goodbye before I´d even started for the door. I know I should be pleased he´s adapting so well, and am, I´m even proud of the spunky little fellow. But at the same time it kind of hurts. I don´t even want to think about what´s going to happen when he gets a girlfriend...I´ll most likely become slightly murderous.
I want to take street art to the next level, 3D mainly. I think thousands of little sculptures superglued to walls, floors, trees and bathroom doors all over the city would be an interesting excercise, maybe one to get us out of the black and white sticker rut we´re in (Interesting Fact of the day: Did you know that rut is also another word for intercourse?). Let´s hope this isn´t another artistic idea that goes in the "Later" mental bin, like traditional toys made out of giant Lego blocks, and the giant collage on my bedroom wall made up mostly of blank space. Yeeesss I´m a minimalist, really... Will Buy Time Machine, Any Price. Red model preferably, exchange for ostrich farm in Argentina. I´m looking at you Rachel, stop wasting your time with University and make me one.
And to show off my time wasting skills, here a test:
| You are a Social Liberal (85% permissive) and an... Economic Liberal (3% permissive) You are best described as a:
Link: The Politics Test on Ok Cupid |
Tuesday, September 20, 2005
Monday to Friday my love is yours, leave Saturday as my own...
Update on the seashells, turns out they're sandollars. I've been handing them out as tokens of my affection, and I've got a few jewelerry projects lined up for the little darlings. And for my eco warrior friends out there, no need to worry (or burn down my house for that matter), they were all already dead.
In other news, monday was pretty good, my human thought development teachers dubbed me "Silvia, who knows everything." Shame we had to disagree on the meaning of Chimera. I went for the mythical beastly, while he went for wild utopian hopes, and we're both right...right? In any case, he just won himself a conmemorative, framed chimera drawing and definition. Not to mention that I already owe him a bottle of red wine (don't ask).
Yesterday was quite hectic, I had loads of homework and an english test at uni, notr to mention that it rained. What is a little rain you might say. A lot, here in Mexicali. The population here can take earthquakes, temperatures up to 50 degress and drug dealers, but if it rains all hell breaks loose, unpaved streets flood and ceilings drip. It's well worth the thunder display though.
No class tomorrow, because my teachers are too cool for school! Well one of them is, and the other one will be testing my classmates, I already had my test, so I'm scott free. Might go see a film tonight, but can't find one I fancy much.
I love Rasputina...
www.rasputina.com/
Monday, September 19, 2005
How We Quit the Forest...
...or My Ordinary Weekend. No school last friday! Wohoo, a great thing we must thank our country's forefathers for. Oh and that we have an independent country or some such as well...
Thursday the whole family was supposed to go downtown for the Idependence Day Yell (it sounds better in Spanish, El Grito, trust me), but we all overslpet, and although we woke up in time to go catch it, most of us couldn't be bothered to go. What happened to sleep is for the dead?
The next day Dad ordered us to grab our swuimsuits and get in the car, we were going to San Felipe, a little tourist resort and fishing port south of Mexicali.This is a huge improvement from previous years in which we were ordered to just get in the car, and anyone who asked where we were headed just received a snigger and a "You'll see." We never new if we were going to the seaside or an execution.
It was a nice day, we ate coconuts, pineapples, chicken, and tamales, then we headed down to the beach and splashed around. My son, William, loves swimming in the sea, he runs up and down the beach squealing with joy and splashing around. I know it's cliched, but seeing him happy makes me even happier.
A man dropped out of the sky in a motorcycle-glyder hybrid beast with purple wings, and offered rides for 45 dollars, which was quickly cut down to 25. What the hell, there's worse ways to die than plumeting into a beach with a complete stranger, so I payed up and got on the strange craft. It must be fun to be a bird, gliding up there and loosing all perspective of just how far away from the ground youre getting. I am distinctly not a bird (although if I was I'd be a magpie or two), and every time a little breeze hit us, my stomach would jolt into my throat and I could literally feel the adrenaline shooting through my veins. Much better than any rollercoaster I've ever been on. Coming down was the best part, the guy turned the motor off and manouvered to the ground in a spiral.
The tide recedes a fair distance from the beach in San Felo, and we all walked along the little streams of water, watching out for the crabs (Did you know they're cannibals?!)I collected about fifty flat shells with stars in the middle, gorgeous little dead things. I have no idea what they're called and the ineternet isn't yielding a name just yet.
Saturday was slightly more mundane and involved house cleaning, homework doing, and going to see R's band, "Maze". They're pretty good, if I can say so myself, but that might have just been the lust and the beer talking. If they ever get a webpage online I'll put it up for others to judge.
Viva Mexico!
Thursday the whole family was supposed to go downtown for the Idependence Day Yell (it sounds better in Spanish, El Grito, trust me), but we all overslpet, and although we woke up in time to go catch it, most of us couldn't be bothered to go. What happened to sleep is for the dead?
The next day Dad ordered us to grab our swuimsuits and get in the car, we were going to San Felipe, a little tourist resort and fishing port south of Mexicali.This is a huge improvement from previous years in which we were ordered to just get in the car, and anyone who asked where we were headed just received a snigger and a "You'll see." We never new if we were going to the seaside or an execution.
It was a nice day, we ate coconuts, pineapples, chicken, and tamales, then we headed down to the beach and splashed around. My son, William, loves swimming in the sea, he runs up and down the beach squealing with joy and splashing around. I know it's cliched, but seeing him happy makes me even happier.
A man dropped out of the sky in a motorcycle-glyder hybrid beast with purple wings, and offered rides for 45 dollars, which was quickly cut down to 25. What the hell, there's worse ways to die than plumeting into a beach with a complete stranger, so I payed up and got on the strange craft. It must be fun to be a bird, gliding up there and loosing all perspective of just how far away from the ground youre getting. I am distinctly not a bird (although if I was I'd be a magpie or two), and every time a little breeze hit us, my stomach would jolt into my throat and I could literally feel the adrenaline shooting through my veins. Much better than any rollercoaster I've ever been on. Coming down was the best part, the guy turned the motor off and manouvered to the ground in a spiral.
The tide recedes a fair distance from the beach in San Felo, and we all walked along the little streams of water, watching out for the crabs (Did you know they're cannibals?!)I collected about fifty flat shells with stars in the middle, gorgeous little dead things. I have no idea what they're called and the ineternet isn't yielding a name just yet.
Saturday was slightly more mundane and involved house cleaning, homework doing, and going to see R's band, "Maze". They're pretty good, if I can say so myself, but that might have just been the lust and the beer talking. If they ever get a webpage online I'll put it up for others to judge.
Viva Mexico!
Thursday, September 15, 2005
21 Years of Me on the Wall, 21 Years of Me...
I turned 21 on Monday and it's been a really weird week so far. The Friday beforehand I went out clubbing with some friends...and some friends of friends I'm not all that fond of, but hey, live and let live...and had a great time. The place we went to, BOA, was a bit empty though so we headed for a private party and stopped for hot dogs on the way. I ate no hot dog buns, of course.
Hot dog buns, apples and Trojans
After that, as part of a great quest to find toiletes, my friend, who shall be known only as R, and I ended up in another bar. And to make a long story short, I am now commiting one of the dating capital crimes: going out with a friend. No good can come of this, right? It doesn't help that I was in the middle of taking a vacation from relationships...but I can't wait to see him again, and I jump whenever the phone rings, soooo...
Saturday involved more celebrating, I had a little party at my place. In the early evening I had some little friends over to celebrate my son's birthday as well, although it'd been a couple of weeks earlier. No one's hair went up in flames, so I'm considering it a success. People came over, ate drank, and were merry, and nobody died the next day. It was all good. Although I need to point out, if any of you guys are reading this, that next year I better get some presents! Except for Tania and Eli of course who were nice enough to bring me stuff. No, bringing yourself is not a gift unless you're Brad Pitt, Kevin Smith or Neil Gaiman...I hope you're all taking note as to what I want for next year.
Sunday was a day of rest, Mum , William and I hung out at my cousin Marina's place and did nothing all day, except gossip. Mum thinks R is a great friend, but absolutely out of the question when it comes to boyfriend material, so I think I won't mention friday to her.
Monday I went out for dinner with the whole family, to a great Japanese place called Sakura, and ate waaay too much tepanyaki and Miso soup. My kingdom for a bowl of Miso! Tuesday we had a girls only celbration, with lots of chocolate cake, because my mum simply wanted to. And celbrations have died down since then, but it's Independence Day tomorrow, so this weekend should be pretty wild too.
My birthday dinner @ Sakura's
Noses are smaller than they appear.
Normally birthdays involve wondering what's so different from one number to the next, but this year I can feel it, something weird is going on. I actually feel different, and I don't think it's just the urge to drive over the border and a have a legal beer in the U.S.of A. No, it might have something to do with brain circuits? Maybe it is a case for Mulder and Scully. In any case I need to go cook now...
Hot dog buns, apples and Trojans
After that, as part of a great quest to find toiletes, my friend, who shall be known only as R, and I ended up in another bar. And to make a long story short, I am now commiting one of the dating capital crimes: going out with a friend. No good can come of this, right? It doesn't help that I was in the middle of taking a vacation from relationships...but I can't wait to see him again, and I jump whenever the phone rings, soooo...
Saturday involved more celebrating, I had a little party at my place. In the early evening I had some little friends over to celebrate my son's birthday as well, although it'd been a couple of weeks earlier. No one's hair went up in flames, so I'm considering it a success. People came over, ate drank, and were merry, and nobody died the next day. It was all good. Although I need to point out, if any of you guys are reading this, that next year I better get some presents! Except for Tania and Eli of course who were nice enough to bring me stuff. No, bringing yourself is not a gift unless you're Brad Pitt, Kevin Smith or Neil Gaiman...I hope you're all taking note as to what I want for next year.
Sunday was a day of rest, Mum , William and I hung out at my cousin Marina's place and did nothing all day, except gossip. Mum thinks R is a great friend, but absolutely out of the question when it comes to boyfriend material, so I think I won't mention friday to her.
Monday I went out for dinner with the whole family, to a great Japanese place called Sakura, and ate waaay too much tepanyaki and Miso soup. My kingdom for a bowl of Miso! Tuesday we had a girls only celbration, with lots of chocolate cake, because my mum simply wanted to. And celbrations have died down since then, but it's Independence Day tomorrow, so this weekend should be pretty wild too.
My birthday dinner @ Sakura's
Noses are smaller than they appear.
Normally birthdays involve wondering what's so different from one number to the next, but this year I can feel it, something weird is going on. I actually feel different, and I don't think it's just the urge to drive over the border and a have a legal beer in the U.S.of A. No, it might have something to do with brain circuits? Maybe it is a case for Mulder and Scully. In any case I need to go cook now...
Friday, September 09, 2005
Play it again Sam
This is probably my third attempt at a blog. I know, I know, a blog's for life, not just for Christmas. It's just that I make 'em and then after a post or two, well I have a wave of stuff to do and no time to write about it. That or I forget the password...okay so maybe I'm just careless. But I really do need somewhere to write things down, and as I'm not fond of paper diaries (my dad was a cop, and I've been paranoid ever since...), I'm going to give this blog writing another go.
So let's start with the easy stuff. Today I got up bright and early and went to Uni, I'm studying psychology. Or I will be, after a year of human sciences. This morning's lesson was Mexican Economic Structure, one of my favourites. My teacher always has some interesting accusation for me, "You're a communist.", being my favourite so far.
My crime for today was having a funny accent. He looked at me and told me I had a strange accent, surely I was from Mexico City. I noddedd, not entirely sure if that was something I should admit to. He warned me about the less than loving attitude some of the northerners here (Im in Baja California by the way) have towards us chilangos . There's a saying here " Kill a chilango and you'll make your country." Can we feel the love? And after telling me a couple of horror stories he expected me to talk about Marx...
That's it so far, apprt from pondering my escape plan from this capitalist, mind numming society. If I can just get away from the computer for long enough...
So let's start with the easy stuff. Today I got up bright and early and went to Uni, I'm studying psychology. Or I will be, after a year of human sciences. This morning's lesson was Mexican Economic Structure, one of my favourites. My teacher always has some interesting accusation for me, "You're a communist.", being my favourite so far.
My crime for today was having a funny accent. He looked at me and told me I had a strange accent, surely I was from Mexico City. I noddedd, not entirely sure if that was something I should admit to. He warned me about the less than loving attitude some of the northerners here (Im in Baja California by the way) have towards us chilangos . There's a saying here " Kill a chilango and you'll make your country." Can we feel the love? And after telling me a couple of horror stories he expected me to talk about Marx...
That's it so far, apprt from pondering my escape plan from this capitalist, mind numming society. If I can just get away from the computer for long enough...
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