Lost in the Stacks

Thoughts 7

2009-11-08T04:38:10Z

I lost track of days again.

I do that, sometimes, when I'm involved in...things.

Mostly it's because I resent the hold that the day has on me. That weeks and months and years...

Entities that hold on to whatever they grasp and refuse to let go even as what they grip dies and turns to dust in their arms.

Look upon these works and despair for they fall into ruin in the hands of time and fate and weather.

So for me the days flit into weeks and I wonder where the years have gone.

Thoughts 6

2009-11-07T03:06:55Z

My days tend to be repetitive. Not that that's a bad thing, most people would say that it's routine. And for them I am sure that the routine is comforting.

And on one hand, I do find it that way. On the other...

Not so much.

When one day is filled with the same small acts strung together in the same way I feel less like an organic being and more like a robot.

And that is sooo not my fetish. My childhood crush on Lt. Data aside.

Don't read too much into that, but feel free to read as much as you want into the fact that the entire reason I started drinking Earl Grey Tea was because of Captain Picard.

I was impressionable and they were traveling the stars. And now you know more about me than you probably wanted to know so I'm going to go away now.

Until tomorrow, my lovelies.

Thoughts 5

2009-11-06T02:44:05Z

So, part of me is a hedonist.

I enjoy feeling pleasure, indulging in it. And I have become rather good at finding pleasure in the oddest places.

But convention becomes so for a reason.

Take my new satin pillowcases. (Although if you tried I would be forced to hurt you.)

The first time I felt them glide across my cheek I groaned. And kept rubbing my cheek against them as if I were a cat scenting my territory.

I am slightly embarrassed to admit that in less than a minute I was literally purring. It was rusty and had more in keeping with a large predator than a house cat but it was identifiable as a purr.

...That was the best I'd slept in a long time.

Thoughts 4

2009-11-05T01:09:40Z

Well, four days in a row that I managed to post. Much better than what I had been doing, huh?

Now I have to get around to reading other people's posts but I haven't had the time and the inclination just yet.

Of course, just posting doesn't mean that I have much to say.

Or anything at all really.

Still, posting. Which is...something at any rate.

Maybe I'll actually talk to someone tomorrow.

Thoughts 3

2009-11-03T21:21:48Z

Ok, so for those of you who haven't been watching my journal, everyone is fine.

So fine that I got to play driver while my mom went shopping.

My feet hurt.

But on the upside, I now have four new(!) pillows and satin pillowcases.

I like cotton for my sheets and I got a set of those too. Also earrings (nice ones especially for clip-ons which are the only kind I can wear), A fuzzy blanket and a new pair of ankle boots.

My old pair of boots gave up the ghost after many years of faithful service. And finding a pair to replace them was a task and a half.

So, new pair of boots, plainer than the ones I had before but still lovely, black leather and they fit quite nicely, stack heel and everything.

Considering that I'm not the person I was then, these will do quite well in the role of sexy boots.

Clothes may make the man, but confidence makes the woman. And sometimes confidence is aided by a set of pearls, lacy underclothes and a pair of ankle boots.

Thoughts 2

2009-11-02T12:56:30Z

My mom goes in for surgery today. Supposed to be a quick check up type procedure that people tend to need when they reach 50.

Wow, fifty years. Imagine all the things that means you've seen and done. And then realized that that's your mom. Weird, cool, both.

Of course, the last time she went in for a quick procedure she was in for longer than she was supposed to be. Complications. Scary.

And so, later today, I will take her into the doctor's office and wait. Wait while they hook up the IV. Wait while they do the procedure. Wait and see if they find anything wrong. Wait and worry. Wait and hope. Wait and try not to wait, to take my mind off of it. Just wait. Read, maybe, or pretend to.

Drive home when it's all over. Cook dinner. Make plans, because that's what you do. You make plans for afterwards because you have to believe there is an afterwards to look forward to.

And in the meantime, you wait.

Thoughts 1

2009-11-01T15:16:28Z

There is something about the first of November that I will always love.

Perhaps it is the way that it says fall to me. The trees taking turns playing burning bushes and the scent in the air that the less poetic would call rotting mast and ozone. Maybe it's the way the air seems to crackle and steam by turns, like maple candy on the tongue and the promise of the soft brush of snow that begins to permeate the atmosphere with every whisper of wind.

Perhaps it's because it is a new year, in a way, depending on your calender. Maybe it's the soft sounds of good-bye from the dead as they go to rest, All Soul's Day.

Or it could be even simpler than that. The rush to grow from spring has died, summer has reached full growth and fall is when we can get ready to rest.

Yeah, the idea that sleep is just around the bend, is borne on the next breath of wind...

That's a good reason to love it.

It's been a while, hasn't it?

2009-10-31T23:47:13Z

Don't answer that, I already feel guilty enough.

Ok, if you're still reading (or have me on your friend's list, which is probably far more accurate) assume that I have not read anything you've written in the past year.

-winces- Yeah, I suck as an internet friend. I'm even worse as a real life one. Moving on.

What should I catch up on?

And feel free to lambaste and berate, I deserve it.

Drat

2009-09-06T08:32:56Z

I find it particularly annoying in that I get an invite to a...party, of sorts including pool and hot tub, although being able to swim always makes me happy. An invite, further more, for me and a guest, although I have no one that I would particularly trust enough to invite who doesn't already have there own 'and guest' to consider.

People who I know are fun, amusing and jocular. And who can hold their own in a conversation. Not that I talk much. And the majority of them are somewhat older than I am, so I tend to feel a little out of place...

But my point is that I doubt very much that I would be able to go, my transportation being what it is. That, and I'm something of a 'poor relation' in...well, relation, so to speak.

Bah, I'm making no sense.

Hair

2009-09-03T17:57:52Z

Aside from being a somewhat amusing musical...

Ok, not really where I was going with that, but moving on.

Mine I can now put into a bun on the top of my head, just past my shoulder blades. Not as long as it was before I cut it but considering what I cut it to, not bad.

(So in other words, I had nothing to say and had to come up with something. This keeps up and I'm going to have to start writing essays on colors or the origins of words or something.)

Good and bad.

2009-09-02T22:52:51Z

In over a thousand emails, not a single one was from a friend. The closest would be the forwarded Prayer for Cancer Cure from my dad.

But someone on facebook found me...and I finally went around and added people I recognize.

Reality

2009-09-01T19:52:47Z

It's true that I dream of blood, of violence. That sometimes I take comfort in it, delight in it.

And it is true that I spend much of my life angry, impotent as it may be.

And, every once in a while, I wake up with strange bruises and cuts and claw marks...even though I know that I have not left my very safe, if not warm, bed.

But I also spend a great deal of time as a blank canvas, a slate wiped clean. No concrete thoughts, merely...nothing, in so much as nothing is mere.

Sometimes I wonder about me...

Fiction

2009-09-01T18:39:05Z

I choke on rage, delight in wrath. The crimson streaks of bright arterial blood dance on the edge of my vision. I can taste the copper flowing sluggishly into my mouth and down my throat.

I'm angry all the time.

All the time. When I wake. When I sleep. My dreams are blood-filled, blood-caked. Any sane person would call them nightmares.

Noone has ever claimed my sanity. Like the pillow-soft mercy of god, it does not exist.

That has always made me laugh. That soft mercy that most think of when they think of god. Soft words, comfort and down-filled. Like a good lie in after a restful night.

God's mercy is sharp and metal-bright. The coup de grace. The final bloody kiss. The long night, the dark sleep.

The swift blade over bared neck. That is god's mercy.

As much a nightmare as anything I may become.

Comments on economics

2009-08-30T23:35:20Z

Could someone, anyone, explain to me the sense of the following.

Cutting boards and Crockpots vs. Three seasons of Charmed.

Now, aside from the fact that if you put it on mute and then just watch the pretty girls wearing clothing that the camera man spends half the scene looking at their cleavage, which, really, the most and possibly only redeeming factor. Not when we need a crock pot. Ours suffering from broken handle syndrome. And I could really use a new cutting board, two would be awesome, considering I'm the one cooking, cleaning, gardening all the damn time.

The seasons of Charmed and other various shows, not all of them bad, mind you, often coming from my mother when she goes to get one thing (literally one thing, last time it was antacids) from the pharmacy.

She goes ahead and spends 150 on dvds and then gets upset when I add another six bucks worth of pasta to the cart.

If I ever get into a relationship, I would severely want financial control. Mainly because I know what the fuck I am doing. Good luck with that, right?

Bah.

Good weekends are hard to come by.

2009-08-24T19:28:35Z

But this one was decent. Got a new washing machine. So that is cause for great celebration. (The previous one quit working about a month and a half ago. possibly more. That was a bitch.)

House to myself, always good news. Ms Marple DVDs. Simple pleasures really. And I do enjoy Agatha Christie.

Still spent it alone. Which is somewhat disappointing but life as usual. You get used to it. Besides, it could be worse.

Ticked off that the strawberries went bad the day after I got them. That sucked.

Will write more later.

I actually don't remember the last time I was on here...

2009-08-15T22:41:51Z

Not that I'm back, so to speak. Mainly because I don't really have a lot to say.

Or anything to say, really.

Heh.

-sighs-

2009-07-08T22:28:47Z

Sometimes, I intensely dislike the fact that my mind works the way that it does. Particularly when it seeks to catalog things the way it does.

And...

2009-06-26T20:49:44Z

Breathe..two..three..four...
Hold..two..three..four...
Out..two..three..four...
And again. Slowly working my way up my own personal numeric scale. Five count, six, seven...and sometimes I stop there, seven is a good number, powerful, but then again so is three and four when you think about it...all of them are, depending.
But most of the time I go for a nine count. Rarely I stretch to a thirteen, and that kinda burns in my throat and makes me lightheaded, gulping swallows of air that helps to power my body and my ragged soul...

But most of the time, it's nine.
And my mind circles slowly in ever lowering strips, like corvids at a feast...Swirling from my mind, where I spend my time, to my body, where I don't. And back up. Quick and slow, a foxtrot of breath and breathing. In, Hold, Out.

And again.

My mind slows down, finally, thankfully, and I see more than I did before. Speeds up and I see the same thing in new perspectives. Fall into my body and it aches and stretches and feels good and bad. Too much or too little of something or another that drives me onward.

And sometimes it's an outside focus that carries my thoughts with it, the cry of the birds, the wind in the flowers, the soft patter of rain...

But most often it's my own breath. In, Hold, Out. A steady rhythm but not unchanging.

I hear words in it, sometimes.

Here, You're Here. Here, I'm Hear. Not Alone. Breathe. Never Alone.

But all anyone else ever sees is is the pattern. In, Hold, Out.

I'm Here, Breathe.

So

2009-06-23T14:45:13Z

If you have anything you need to say to me today, say it here.

Sea Change

2009-06-22T22:13:57Z

I think I hate my family.

Fuck.

^_^

2009-06-21T21:13:29Z

Today has been an awesome day.

Perfectly awesome.

Hey

2009-06-15T01:35:41Z

Ever seen the opening scene of a movie that hit your creepy buttons?

-sighs happily- I love that feeling.

Also, photoshop sucks. -pouts, goes back to work-

Ok, so I know it wouldn't fit...

2009-06-14T16:28:45Z

But I kinda want it anyway.

Carebear Armor

It's cute and practical and considering that a couple of people in my neighborhood have been shot recently...

I just...I...

-bursts out laughing helplessly-

So....question:

2009-06-14T11:07:16Z

If someone calls you, like say your dad, and says that they forgot you...

Did they really forget?

Also, yeah, marginally alive.

I haven't sold my soul to Jeff Mach but I have let him rent it at reasonable rates.

2009-05-18T19:14:09Z

In other words, I mention yet another one of his projects. Granted, it's probably only relevant if you're going to be anywhere close to Oxford Connecticut at the end of July/beginning of August...

The Midsummer Magick Faire!

And really, if you've heard of a Jeff Mach project you're either going to go yay! I can go or darn it, I can't go. Cause they do tend to be awesome.

From the Faqs Page:

Our beautiful town is a recreation of a Feast-Day in bygone times. We feature a chance to immerse yourself in a world lost and now reborn on a beautiful piece of land in Southern Connecticut, in a time of ancient knowledge, incredible performance, and stories of a time before the days of King Arthur! Enjoy the delicious food and drink of the day, peruse our many merchants for fine goods and wares seldom seen outside of Faire, interact with our players, learn from our educational walks and discussions, and enjoy all manner of performance and entertainment!

So, if it sounds like your sort of thing...consider going, ok?