"my hands grope for the light, my hands grope for my head."

"and i learn every room long enough
to make it to the door
and then i hear it click shut behind me" -Dilate, Ani DiFranco

Have had a slew of Ani lyrics bombarding me. Randomly walking down streets they fly past me knocking me into a new song of hers. School is done for the semester, finals are over, and one by one grades are being turned in. I don't know the official results of the lighting project yet, but the house enjoyed it when they came to watch, and I ended up getting a B in the class. Which is good because I got a C on a test and a couple quizzes. The rest of classes are going to be A’s and B’s as well, the only one I am really worried about is my Lit class, see how the final turned out.

"now use both hands/oh, no don't close your eyes/i am writing/graffiti on your body/i am drawing the story of/how hard we tried/i am watching your chest rise and fall/like the tides of my life,and the rest of it all/and your bones have been my bedframe/and your flesh has been my pillow"

This past weekend was spent in Denver with the gang down there. It was to celebrate my birthday, and was a blast. There was much with the drinking, closing of a bar or maybe two…and watching lots of cheesy horror/thriller movies thanks to Scotty.

"and now it's so hard to have faith in/anything/especially your next bold move or the next thing you're gonna need to prove/to yourself"

The holiday season is upon us. In the house we have strung up lights, and even have a Christmas tree up and decorated in our living room. It is a time for rest, recharge, and change. But then again back to our only constant in this universe is change.

"he caresses every bottle/like it's the first one he's had/saying/it ain't love/but it ain't bad"

The following is a free write poem. Our first day in my creative writing poetry our first assignment was to write a poem, any poem, didn’t matter the content or style or structure. We folded it, the professor never looked at it, and we didn’t see it until our last day of class when our teacher handed them back to us. Out of all poems that came out of me for that class this semester, I think I actually like this one the best.

Screaming To The Wind
Words find their way to me in whispers.
Lips part, form movement, releasing sound
that is apparently meant to mean something.
The movement of understanding, the words never reach me.
Your words only come whispered to me
in the early morning hours that have yet to see light.
3am your soft voice speaking of confidences that I am suppose to keep.
“I am scared, will you help me?”
My voice cannot whisper the way yours does.
I cannot make you understand. The translation of my words
always get lost along the way, traveling from parted lips to ears with selective hearing.
How can I help you, if you are always misinterpreting my whispers,
like some game of telephone, when you repeat back to me what was said
It comes out, “Five toothpick guacamole.”

You however are not the only person’s whispers I hear.
My godmother speaks to me on the whispers of light afternoon breezes.
The faint smell of patchouli drifting along with the lyrics to an unrecognizable lullaby.
If I could truly hear her voice, the words would be booming and filled with strength.
And she would not approve of you.
And the way you tell your secrets to me.
The way you lean over the greasy diner table and bad coffee,
Whispering, “ I could never love you, but I don’t want you to go.”

My hearing is going quicker than it should,
So next time we meet over truck stop coffee
with one of your urgent pressing needs filled with secrets,
next time you fill the booth with your empty thoughts, and idle ways of using me
You won’t be able to whisper nothings into these fragile ears.
You’ll have to speak loud enough so that the wind can hear you.
-BAS 8/28/07

Ooo look how shiny the lights can be.

...4am can get kind of giddy in a light booth. My show is recorded though, the gels have been picked and instruments have been assigned colors. Work at 8 is stupid. Could be sleeping until noon right now. Have the piece of music my lights are set to, on repeat in my head, dreamt about it, want to smash brains now. ... ... ... ooo I wonder if I can set up a light show with the x-mas lights... *wonders off to find caffeine*

Awh Thanks to Nerdy

For some reason this picture reminded her of me...aw how sweet. Thanks Nerdy. ....
I suppose...

Ah, another milestone. "Why do I remember this?"

I have made it through another milestone birthday. First there was 16 when you are suppose to be able to drive, although I didn't get my driver's license until I was 20. Then there is 18, a semi-adult in the federal governments eyes, you can buy tobacco and porn, neither of which really appeal to me. Monday was the big event of my 21st birthday. Yes, that is right Squid is no longer a baby, ok in all honesty I will probably always be the baby. The night was eventful and apparently I was a happy camper and had everyone laughing. The parts of the evening that I remember were great...I even got to open presents twice! How many people can say that? However the next morning, I didn't like being 21, and neither did my stomach, my head or my elbow. Hang overs are evil things when you have to work at 8 in the morning, but forget that and are being called by your boss to come in because you are late. The elbow though came from falling down the stairs in our house, do I remember nope not at all, but apparently one of my more famous quotes from the evening was, "Did I really bleed out of my elbow onto my shirt?" There were other events from the evening I am sure, one was I was very excited my father came drinking with us, and bought me shots! I was really excited about this for some reason...



I got some really kick ass presents. Flynn got me Guitar Hero the 80's extension pack, Linus got me a travel tea mug that brews loose leaf, which I am estatic about, there was beer brought over, and a bottle of very nice scotch which I am excited about as well, a pirrahana bottle opener, I am probably missing something at the moment, but they were all wonderful! My mother even sent me flowers which only slightly makes up for the giant stuffed elmo she sent me...only slightly.






I am knee deep in finals right now, and beginning to panic. If only I had some bright friendly letters with me at all times to remind me not to panic.

Ahhh, that is a little better. I have a huge lighting project final due at the beginning of next week, I get to focus, gel, and creat my own light show for a classical piece of music. We'll see how I am doing next week, for now I am off to put together a portfolio for poetry.

I am also worried, about the girl, my girl. She has been sick in the hospital for almost a week, with what we think is mono. So there is that to add to stress as well, but she seems to be getting a little better, we found out today that she doesn't have to have surgery, or at least at the moment. Here is to keeping fingers crossed, that she gets better quickly, we miss having her around.


To round things out here are some Haiku snippets I have been working on for my poetry class.

Plans for Life - 1) Start
from where you are. 2) Improve.
3) There is no 3.

Karmic rebirth sucks
'cause I can't stomach being
a hand-me-down soul

I am the giant
shadow of a small girl who
sits behind the sun.

I trash memories
hoping commontion's enough
for thought, emotion.



ps.
Thanks for the birthday wishes Mayren!!

Life Doesn't Slow Down

So, both of the theater productions I was working on are now over. I won't know if Fur is going onto to Regionals of the American College Theater Festival until probably the end of the semester. Does that mean I am any less busy, no of course not. What was I thinking that I would have downtime? I go crazy with down time so I find ways to fill it.

Apparently it has been a good couple weeks to be a squid, a lot has happened. Have been to see to more concerts down in Colorado, both of which were some of the best I have ever been to, and yes that is really saying something. On Friday the 26th it was Architecture in Helsinki with MightyMightyM at the Ogden in Denver. These guys are a lot of fun, really dancey but odd lyrics, I love it, they make me happy. This past Saturday my good friend Kel and I took off to the hippie mountains of Boulder to see Tegan and Sara!!! It was everything I would have hoped one of their concerts would have been. Their new album is awesome, if you have ever liked them check out The Con. Northern State opened for them, and they are three chick MC's out of New York, a lot of energy, and well they fact that they were hot didn't hurt ;)

In between concerts were Halloween festivities, parties, and dates. Yes I said the magic word of 'date', but we will get to that story in a minute. I have also after 4 almost 5 years of being of age to drive, after two expired intruction permits, and endless accounts of harrasment from friends, little Squidly is finally growing up. I have my driver's license!! I passed the test with flying colors, what was I so worried about, no clue.

So now to the date. There is a new girl in my life. She is amazing, is spastic and dorky. And the funny thing is we started dating before our official first date. This Friday we will have been dating for two weeks. Somedays its creepy how much we have in common. She is also a hedgehog owner, and loves to dance, relishes in the moments where life takes your breath away, and is a psychology major.

I was interviewed for a documentary this weekend. You should go read BGJ's blog for more details. I'm headed to New York City this weekend with Mark and Fleur to see his brother in an off Broadway show, and well hang out in freakin' New York for the weekend. Coming up is Thanksgiving in the middle of our Hollowdaze season, then soon my birthday(psst the big 21), finals, Christmas, with visits from Nerdygirl and Mandyfish, and a new year, and a new semester.

I will be back quicker this time, with an update with pictures from New York when we get back next week. Until then, the good blindsides you on some idle Tuesday, wrecking your meloncholy-ness to remind you that by looking up you see a lot more, even if you do tend to trip over the cracks in the sidewalk.

A Recap.

Working two productions at the same time sucks…a lot. I am Assistant Stage Manager for a student production. The play is called Fur by Migdalia Cruz, and we are flying the playwright out here for production week, so everything must be perfect. For the past week and a half I have also been the Master Electrician for a play on the main stage; Uncle Vanya by Anton Chekov. Now, you might think both of those titles sound very important, and they sort of are, but really being an ASM means I am a runner bitch for the PSM and the director. Being an ME is not all that cool. I do dimmer checks, which means I turn the lights on before the show and make sure nothing is burnt out, and no gels need to be changed out. There are some other small responsibilities, but nothing all that important.

I may bitch and complain and whine about having to work both of these shows, but ignore me. I love it. I love being a part of something. We put on a performance for others; we let them escape their reality to enforce a new perspective of reality. These are the first performances where I have actually been involved heavily with watching the shows from their beginnings and see them evolve into magic. That is the way one of my professors put it, we create magic for people for one night of their lives. The crew, not so much with the actors, but the crew tends to have this amazing sense of community. We never really get to see the production they way audiences see it, but we put in long hours, lots of sweat and heart into it for them.

It is tough though. I am never home. Ever. Just ask my roommates, they really haven’t seen me in a month. Okay not really, but it has only been in passing. I didn’t even know G-fresh had been sick for a couple days, a while ago. I get home after most of them have gone to bed, the only exception is when Linus and Flynn are up playing Halo into the wee hours of the morning, or they are working on the comic they forgot about.

It has been a weird season around these parts. We are used to the leaves turning color in a week, and then all of them in procession one after the other tumble to the ground in a day. Not this year. The trees are relishing in the heat, taking their time to drop their colors. Biking through the crunchy-ness of leaves with a slight crisp to the air clears my head of heavy thoughts. Normally this time of year I fall into a deep depression, but hope has been found lurking around the corners. A week of hardships and name calling, are soothed by little remembrances of love. I find comfort in the smell of patchouli this week and slight whispers on the wind, when reminded of dead loved ones, birthdays.

Talking to a good friend last night about moving forward and moving on with life, I am reminded that change is not bad. She tells me it brings growth. I tell her change is the only thing we can count on, the only thing really we can rely on. “How true. How wonderful.” She says.
In a season of change, becoming dormant, and the smell of pumpkin pies, revel in the hopes, in the movement forward, in the laughter of family, in the ties that connect us all, and in knowing that change is our only constant.

"On The Radio"
This is how it works
It feels a little worse
Than when we drove our hearse
Right through that screaming crowd
While laughing up a storm
Until we were just bone
Until it got so warm
That none of us could sleep
And all the styrofoam
Began to melt away
We tried to find some words
To aid in the decay
But none of them were home
Inside their catacomb
A million ancient bees
Began to sting our knees
While we were on our knees
Praying that disease
Would leave the ones we love
And never come again

On the radio
We heard November Rain
That solo's really long
But it's a pretty song
We listened to it twice
'Cause the DJ was asleep

This is how it works
You're young until you're not
You love until you don't
You try until you can't
You laugh until you cry
You cry until you laugh
And everyone must breathe
Until their dying breath

No, this is how it works
You peer inside yourself
You take the things you like
And try to love the things you took
And then you take that love you made
And stick it into some
Someone else's heart
Pumping someone else's blood
And walking arm in arm
You hope it don't get harmed
But even if it does
You'll just do it all again
-Regina Spektor, Begin to Hope

Skeletons.

We all have them, no matter how large, or how poorly hidden they are. Dinner with my father this evening started off on an odd topic, mortality. My dad has been reflecting on his life a lot lately. He said he is not getting any younger, and is starting to think about what can be done with the life he has left to live, what can and cannot be done. My father told me he doesn't have a lot of time here left. What is that suppose to mean? How do I take that? Yes, my father is getting up there in years, and I have never expected him to live to be that old, with the way he has treated his body. One of my father's favorite lines is "If I would have none that I would have grown to be this damn old, I'd have taken better care of myself." Does my dad know something I don't? Some finalized time line that he has left on earth? My dad said he has a lot of regrets, but the regrets that most haunt late in the night when dreams tear you apart. The things that he regrets the most are the things he didn't do, never got the chance, or never got the courage to go through with. He told me this to warn me, so I wouldn't have the same regrets. He, like most of us, wants to leave something behind, to mark that he did something, to mark that at least he was here. We all want some greater meaning to this life, we are all so scarred that our mortality means nothing. He started talking about politics and he would like to do something like that, but knows that he has too many skeletons buried in his past, that are waiting to be dug up. My dad paused after he said and looked at me and said, "You poor kid, how did you survive me all these years?" Love, is how I survived him, love was the only tie stronger enough to ease the years of built up anger frustration of growing up to quickly and having to become my own parent.

Life is precious no matter how much time we think we have left. Do one thing everyday that scares you. Take the risks you never thought you could, and do the things you don't think you have time for. Cherish your loved ones, live with as little regrets as possible, even if that means stepping out of your comfort zone. Talk to the person who might have your eye, step out on a limb and make the first move. Make a list of life's to-do's and actually follow through with them, check them off. Take the time to know what you want from love, and don't settle for any less. Appreciate what you have, and the family that surrounds you. Simply live and love with every ounce of who you are.

Punk is Dead

There, I said it! Happy now?

Punk is dead, and has been replaced with snot–nosed white suburban asshats. Punk died the night Sid Vicious OD’d. Punk was anti-establishment, anti-mainstream, it was all about damning the man going against the pop culture, and setting your own rules. Now? Now I am left with this? Screamo, emo crap!? I like most of the music that bands like this put out to an extent. But the scene, the community, ha there is none. It is a bunch of middle class kids trying to be hip and cool, making sure they have the right fashion, which is exactly what punk was against. What happened to the anti-government, doing things our own way?

It was an angry pit last night. And not in the comradely way of fuck the man! They were angry at each other. Years spent learning passive aggressiveness from parents who bottle everything up, and the combination of too much testosterone. Yes, moshing is a time to let this out; I know this. I love this normally. But in the pit you have a sense of community, brotherhood with each other. There is certain etiquette you follow while moshing. RULE #1: When someone falls down you help them up. You do NOT kick them in the head! When someone loses something and you find it on the floor you hold it up in order for the owner to claim it. You jackasses don’t know what slam dancing is anymore. Shows are not fucking excuses to kick the living shit out of someone just because you feel like it. The show didn’t call for that kind of anger; it wasn’t a super angry show! When I, yes a girl, has to break up your fighting because you pushed the kid down into me and started punching him, it is NOT OK!! You told me to lay off; I said fuck you this is not what shows are for. I am not afraid to start something because I will pull the “I am a girl” card and get you kicked out because you are ruining the concert I came to see. All of you fuck dweebs who can’t play nice in the pit and get pissed off because someone ran into you a little extra hard, need to leave now.

We no longer have a movement to be angry with; no one talks about taking down the government. We put our anger aside and then take it out on each other. Are we seriously too apathetic of a generation to not be able to direct our anger to, oh I don’t know, the government who is fucking shit up? The war? There are millions things to be upset about, but you have to take out on people you haven’t met. That’s it, I am done! You all have ruined a great show for me. You come here to hook up and to be in the scene. I hate your mainstream clothes, your crappy hair; and by the way you look like a fucking girl! Seriously? Man-pris? You are wearing man capris?

*Storms off, to kick the shit out of the next scene/emo asshat she sees.*


From SLC Punk:

Stevo: The Fight: What does it mean and where does it come from? An Essay: Homosapien. A man. He is alone in the universe. A punker. Still a man. He is alone in the universe, but he connects. How? They hit each other. No clearer way to evaluate whether or not you're alive. Now. Complications. A reason to fight. Somebody different. Difference creates dispute. Dispute is a reason to fight. Now, to fight is a reason to feel pain. Life is pain. So to fight with reason is to be alive with reason. Final analysis: To fight, a reason to live. Problems and Contradictions: I am an anarchist. I believe that there should be no rules, only chaos. Fighting appears to be chaos. And when we slam in the pit at a show it is. But when we fight for a reason, like rednecks, there's a system, we fight for what we stand for, chaos. Fighting is a structure, fighting is to establish power, power is government and government is not anarchy. Government is war and war is fighting. The circle goes like this: our redneck skirmishes are cheap perversions of conventional warfare. War implies extreme government because wars are fought to enforce rules or ideals, even freedom. But other people ideals forced on someone else, even if it is something like freedom, is still a rule; not anarchy. This contradiction was becoming clear to me in the fall of '85. Even as early as my first party, "Why did I love to fight?" I framed it, but still, I don't understand it. It goes against my beliefs as a true anarchist. But there it was. Competition, fighting, capitalism, government, THE SYSTEM. That's what we did. It's what we always did. Rednecks kicked the shit out of punks, punks kicked the shit out of mods, mods kicked the shit out of skinheads, skinheads took out the heavy metal guys, and the heavy metal guys beat the living shit out of new wavers and the new wavers did nothing. What was the point? Final summation? None.

Stevo: I rest my case on this: In a country of lost souls rebellion comes hard. But in a religiously oppressive city, where half its population isn't even of that religion, it comes like fire.

HerionBob: Well, it's a crazy fucked up world and we're all just floating along waiting for someone who can walk on water, man.

*Storms back* By the way I blame this on our nation’s puritanical “afraid of sex”-ness; our nation’s sexual frustration has turned into a blood lust. *huff* But that is a different post.
*Storms off*

The debate continues.

It all started out because of a post over on WNG's blog, a post about hell. Followed shortly thereafter, by His Sinfulness ranting about hell and how hell being an eternal thing is not all that common. MightyMightyM and I continued the discussion in religion, and the conversation went something like this:

Me: one of my favorite lines about God is actually from an Ani DiFranco song, its origins are probably from somewhere else, but it is still really good.

“and I think,
what if no one's watching
what it when we're dead, we are just dead
what if it's just us down here
what if god ain't looking down
what if he's looking up instead”

I like the idea for some reason that there is a God, but he has no interest in us and is looking somewhere else

MightyMightyM: "he who sees in me all things, and in all things me, is never far from me and I shall never be far from him."

personally, I believe that god is not really a person as we envision, but rather like the ocean
- the stillness that begat motion
the consciousness that begat all consciousness

me: hmm I like that :)

MightyMightyM: we can never really know him
or her

me: or it

MightyMightyM:
exactly, there is no pronoun that can fully encapsulate the concept
there is no sex, no gender

me: no shape, no dimensions
MightyMightyM: none that can be attached to Brahma
me: yeah
MightyMightyM: our job is to reach Moksha, or oneness with the original consciousness
and it takes many lifetimes to achieve
me: yeah, if not an infinity of time

me: I also don't get that why do we have to have this all great…thing. That gets all the credit for things we are very capable of doing our selves. Why does the Christian concept of God get all the credit? I think it is crap

MightyMightyM: true
Christians' logic is baffling
like prayer
they pray for god to help or to change the outcome
of something
but if it doesn't work out the way they wanted they say it wasn't part of god's plan
well then what good does prayer do?
if he already has a plan and is not going to deviate from it, then why pray to change it

me: it doesn't, why not try to change your own problems, or change your own outcomes. There are an infinite number of possible futures

MightyMightyM: right
the scariest part is that the Christians that are running this country believe that Christ is coming soon and will take the righteous to heaven, leaving the wicked here to burn
this belief makes it so that they don't need to worry about creating a sustainable living
no reason to preserve any part of the earth for the future
no reason to try to prevent our inevitable demise
or at least stave off
me: which for those of us "left here" which we will all be, will have nothing left to live off of. Destroying what we need, and creating our own hell to try and dig out of. We can burn, rape, and pillage the land, and it is ok because “God” will come to save us and take us to heaven.


MightyMightyM: but I’m not cynical about it at all
me: no, not at all, and that is the important part ;)

MightyMightyM: but I do love Diogenes - he carried a lantern in daylight searching for an honest man.

me: I love his comparison to dogs, and how we should all take on a dogs virtues instead of our own anxiety ridden state
MightyMightyM: yep

did you know the Zoroastrians consider dogs the equals of men?

me: no I didn't actually

MightyMightyM: I would even go a step further and say dogs are better than men
like Diogenes said, and you pointed out, we should strive to be more like them

me: yeah, loyal, are content with the basics, and are always in the present moment no matter what

MightyMightyM: except we need to be cognizant of the past and future, but live in the present
me: that is true, we have to learn from what we have done, and prepare to an extent for the future or at least be mindful of the options that lay ahead of us

Max: the dharma pig lives
me: in our stomachs!

(PS:
If you can guess where the dharma pig quote comes from, you will get…some sort of special prize, that we will figure out later.)

Anybody?

Does any one want to go see Ani DiFranco with me on Sunday?
:D
It's in Littleton, CO tickets are only $45....please....any one...the seats are all GA...? I wanna go...puulleasseeee.

Maybe not?...ok.

Did I mention that she rocks my socks off?

Could it really be true?

I have become obsessed with an author...again. I have read his entire comic book series, I own all but one of his books, I have even read his children books. The author can weave an amazing tale into a fantasy world where I will lose myself for hours. His name is Neil Gaiman. I love his ability to be able to tell a story. I believe it was BBC, who made one of his books, Neverwhere into a miniseries, that really wasn't all that great. He also helped write an amazing movie called MirrorMask that the Jim Hensen Company made. At the end of this summer one of his books will be made into a movie. I haven't decided if I am excited about the movie yet or not, it looks like it might be disappointing, but who knows I had originally thought that about Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy.

Check out the trailer.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UdW7rbcfGzs

Little mister grumpy man.

I am now a proud pet owner. I have never had a pet that has been soley mine before, and I am kind of nervous at the prospect of being a single mother trying to raise a grumpy pre-teen hedgehog. Luckily for me, one of my roommates, Linus already has a zoo of pets in his bedroom and I can always go ask him for advice.

I found a listing online saying free hedgehog to a good home. For some time now I have wanted my own pet, as Linus can attest too, and when I saw the listing I was ecstatic. Of course I had to ok it with the rest of Flock Hall, make sure no one would have any nervous breakdowns if I got it. The hedgehog's original name is Kitsch, I wasn't real fond of it, and once everyone kept calling him Kit because they misheard I decided to rename him. So without further ado, World meet Asterix; Asterix meet the world!







According to Linus, who for sometime worked in pet shop that had hedgehogs, Asterix is quite a sociable little guy, but don't let that fool you, until he comes out of his cage he is quite the grumpy bear. We are working on that though. I have been reading a lot of material online about habit and behavior, and all that good stuff, researching as much as I can, what not to do, what to do to encourage socialization...even how to bathe hedgehogs. People say that either hedgehogs love the water or they hate it, so last night we decided to have a trial run at the whole bath thing, and it didn't turn out too badly. Asterix isn't really that big a fan of the water, but he doesn't mind it either. He does like the part of drying off because that means he can bury into the towel and hide from the scary world.






However, in order to get all of the bedding he manages to get stuck in his quills, we have use a tooth brush and brush the wrong way, which Asterix hates with a passion. Linus graciously enough offered to do it, so I wouldn't be the one held responsible for him being pissed off.

This is his "I hate you all you little fuckers..." in a Cartman voice, look. And yes it is not just you he is quite the chunker, we're working on trimming down his diet and looking for ways for him to get some exercise. I am looking at buying a large wheel for him, to put in his cage and a large hamster ball with very small holes, so he cannot get his wee little hedgie feet caught in them. Also, I am going to get some ferret toys for him to play with, and look at hedgehog-proofing a part of the house so I can just let him run. I am looking at maybe even getting him a bigger cage too, currently he is in a tote which actually works pretty well for him, but on the off chance he needs bigger space, the new cage will be in the back of my mind.

And for all his work, and putting up with our hi-jinks last night, Asterix gets a treat before going back to bed.


We tried to snap a photo of him actually eating it...but damn, the only thing Asterix does fast is eat apparently.

So there ya have it! My cutest little, most adorable grump ball in the world! Yes you all can come over and visit him and play with him.

No, that is what AWESOME IS MADE OF!!!

SQueee! DUDE!! With the "schcroooo" and "woooosh" and the "ahhhh" and "oooo" "kerblasch" and the flying through the building!!!!

So I am a little late on things as I tend to be. But I finally went and saw TRANSFORMERS last night! And oh man was it everything my inner child had wanted it to be. Truly amazing. I don't think I have ever grinned that big through an entire movie in a very, very, very long time! At one point even Jim leaned over and said "You are such a huge geek." I know! :-D and I love it! And the lead girl was quite hot as well, when I told Jim this he just looked at me and said, "Wait, there were girls in the movie?" Apparently he was just a little distracted by the hot guys on the screen.
Oh by the way Bumblebee, will and always be my main man.

"No sacrifice, no victory."

The Flock is going communal, again...without the cheese smell this time.

I have added a link on the right hand side to the Flock Hall 2.0 blog. It will detail accounts of random debauchery that we will undoubtedly get ourselves into over the next year.

This weekend seems like it, the one where Flock Hall 2.0 finally comes together. Tessa and Mark get here tonight, and are unpacking Tessa tomorrow. Linus is finishing up packing and moving in on Saturday as well, and I am in process of throwing things in totes to be ready to move into on Sunday. Kt has already moved all her stuff in and is currently on a plane flying back to the UK for the next 7 weeks.

The next weeks will become a challenge as we try to find our own niches in the house, unpacking, reorganizing. Making the house we are moving into a home for ourselves, which won’t be too hard. I think for a lot of us, home is with the family we have created for ourselves, our family at Flock Hall. I once wrote that yes, home is where the heart is, but what if you have lost your heart? What if you dropped it along side the gutter while packing up your life, accidentally lost it along the way? I have found my heart again, it has gone through some landfills, and was quite dusty and mangled. I’m still finding pieces scattered about, some down the street from me in the neighbor’s yard and under car tires. Some pieces were just lost in between all the papers I had forgotten about and had yet to unpack. I know some pieces I will never find again and I am ok with that. I have enough now to start molding my heart back together one piece at a time with some duct tape and super glue. I’m not too worried about the missing parts; those will become filled in with time, like much of the mangled pieces, healed by time, love, and laughter.

“watching as you drive
it's good to be alive
and i'm alive, i'm alive
you're alive, we're alive, oh

your smile is the manhattan skyline” –Gina Young

Our Pride

Everybody wants to talk about love, but it takes a lot to give. Everybody wants to talk about faith but it takes a lot to risk.

Pride
–noun
1. a high or inordinate opinion of one's own dignity, importance, merit, or superiority, whether as cherished in the mind or as displayed in bearing, conduct, etc.
2. the state or feeling of being proud.
3. a becoming or dignified sense of what is due to oneself or one's position or character; self-respect; self-esteem.
4. pleasure or satisfaction taken in something done by or belonging to oneself or believed to reflect credit upon oneself.

Also a weekend to acknowledge one’s on importance and merit as a member of the queer community. Being proud to be dignified of who you are, proud of who you are becoming. Pride, a weekend of celebration for the proms you never went to, the Christmas parties you were not out at, and all of the celebrations you could not truly be yourself at. A weekend of massive chaos and partying, drinking and dancing, and truly not caring what anyone else thinks for three days. It was awesome!

I went down to Denver to hang out with Jim and party like a rock star on Saturday morning. We arrived with bathing suits in hand, and got started on the lounging around the pool with cocktails and sun bathing. What a great way to start a weekend, huh? I thought so! Saturday afternoon eventually turned into evening, and we figured if we were going out dancing there should be food eventually. Dinner was found, and naps were taken, (a must to be at top game when dancing), and a plan was forged for the evening. Since I am still a baby and can’t quite go play with the big kids at the regular bars, I headed off to Tracks, a gay dance club doing 18+ for pride, to meet up with some of the other Laramites. I am shy, and I am become even more shy around really hot girls, imagine that. So I danced and had fun, and they gay boys used me to dance as well. Around midnight I headed off to an after hours dance club, where I played with glow sticks and poi until the wee hours of the morning, (close to 4:30am) with the gang. It was a lot of fun and there, there was half naked girls running around in bathing suit tops…and I, yes I, kissed one of them. (squeee!!!) By the time we got back to the condo we were staying at there was maybe 2 hours of sleep to be had, even with all the dancing that had happened I slept very lightly and was ready to go for brunch/mimosas at 8! The parade was a lot of fun, but it got very hot very quickly, and Squid + Heat = cranky pants. So for all of those who put up with me during the park and walking around thanks for not killing me, I realize I was horribly whiny. It was an awesome weekend, and a much needed break!

“The love you get is equal to the love you give.”

Dunn Dunnn DUUUHH!!!!!

Note: click on video to make it play, and you need sound for the full effect.

hhehe I can't stop watching it.

And yes, I, your beloved Alter Boi, the left hand of the Black Pope, have made my debut in the Black Vatican webcomic! Go, see, laugh, and read all the archives of the comic! Now!

I have Brian's stick!!

And no not Doktor Brian:

and that is why a girl is called a tease
and that is why a guy is called a sleaze
and that's why god made escort agencies
one life to live and mace and GHB

and that's the way it is in minnesota
and that's the way it is in oklahoma
that's the way since the animals and noah
first climbed onto the shores of california

must not be too kind
stop thinking love is blind
clench your fists yeah write
“she's just not my type...”

why all these conflicting specifications
maybe to prevent overpopulation
all I know is that all around the nation
the girls are crying and the boys are masturbating –Shores of California

It’s good to be home. It is even more amazing to have friends in your life that welcome you back and make sure you are recuperating properly. The weekend I came home I was surrounded by friends constantly, and it was great. That Sunday Max and I went down to Denver for the True Colors Tour, which couldn’t have been a greater welcome home present. One of the bands that played was The Dresden Dolls, yes I love them, am in love with them, want to make love to them, and so on, and so forth. So when Margret Cho announced that they would be talking to fans and signing autographs, I well, I freaked out. Tapped Jim on the shoulder frantically and asked “D Do do you think, they would sign my ticket!?” Jim smiled and shrugged and said “I don’t know, probably.” So after that I raced down the row, trying not to trip over people, ran down the stairs almost knocking someone over and waited, as patiently as possibly for Amanda Palmer and Brian Viglione to start signing tickets. Yes, I know, I sound like a squealing little fan girl, and however much I hate to admit, you’re right I was. For the concert I was sporting, proudly, the official casual wear of the BCP’s and when I walked up to Brian he thought the shirt was kick ass and just for that gave me one of his drum sticks that he played the show with and signed it!!! (insert SQUEEEEE!!!!!!!!!! At an ear piercing volume here to fully grasp how excited I was.) When Amanda asked who to sign the ticket to I of course said Squid. She looked for a moment and said, “Like the animal thing.” While flailing her arms in a squid-like motion, yes this really happened. She then laughed and asked how I got the nickname and I explained it to her, all the while she listened to my story.
See? I have reason to be a squealing little fan girl.

If this world makes you crazy
And you've taken all you can bear
You call me up
Because you know I'll be there

And I'll see your true colors
Shining through
I see your true colors
And that's why I love you –True Colors by: Cyndi Lauper

There is always a break in the clouds.

I went to my step-sister's graduation from middle school on Monday night. The area my parents live and my step-sisters live is in really rich Suburban Upper Middle-class White America. So walking into the gymnasium I automatically felt the stares. I was automatically looked down upon, and it is the first time in a long time that I have felt small. Between the looks and the whispers, especially from Aidan's parents (his mom was wearing an Armani suit) and one point there was a horrid comment about the metal in my face, ("I hope she gets struck by lighting") from Aidan's mom.

My step-sisters hardly said more than a handful of words to me, and I was not invited for family pictures afterwards. I stood off to the side in a swarm of people willing myself not to cry, I didn't want to let them see that I was actually hurt. Standing off to the side feeling really displaced, a girl who had just graduated came by looked at me, and put her head down and walked forward, but then stopped and turned back and stood next to me. A second passed and I was curious as to where this was going to lead, then she leaned over and said,"Ssshhh don't tell anyone but I have a lip piercing too," I looked at her and she had a little clear plastic one barely visible. Then she said, "But don't tell anyone here, nobody knows, actually there are a lot of things no one knows about me here."
I looked at her and smiled and said, "Yeah? I know the feeling. I really know that feeling, but don't worry your secret is safe with me."

She said, "Yeah I can't wait to meet people I can actually feel like can be my friends, true friends." I told her, "be patient, I know it is hard, but it will happen. Trust me, you'll find your friends and they can become your family." She said, "really?!" I smiled and nodded, then she gave me a half hug and said "thank you very much." I said "No worries, my lips are sealed." I made the zipper motion, she smiled and walked away.

Eventhough I was in hell for the night, I made someone else feel like they weren't such a freak, in the minds of every one around us. I got the chance to make someone smile, when I was on the verge of tears. I like to think I also put some hope in her life that things will get better, gave me the hope that I can get through this week with little blessing like that. Blessings of any kind can come in the smallest packages, the gloomy storm over had a break in the clouds for a brief second, and I connected with a life that I will probably never meet again.

"But they’ll still look in your eyes

To find the human inside
You know there’s always something in there to see."

I’m stuck. I’m stuck in the middle of the largest plane I have ever been on, and we are just waiting. We have at least an hour delay before we can take off, due to a storm pattern over Chicago. I never sleep well the night before a day of travel, and I really can’t sleep on planes. The drive to Denver this morning was the normal 2 or so hours, nothing too eventful, although I hate leaving my safety net. I hate leaving my family behind to go visit my mom, I end up feeling like I am 12 again. Yes, I know my mother only has as much over as I give her, but it doesn’t really feel that way. Walking into the airport this morning felt like leaving my security blanket at home. I was rushed with the feeling of displacement; lost, tossed into the confusion of a million different lives intersecting for one short, brilliant moment in time. Even though I had been surrounded by hundreds, thousands, of people I felt so alone in those first moments in the airport. Airports, like said in Love Actually, can be great places of love and happiness, but they can also be one of the loneliest places. Surrounded by so many lives, but still so remote that you don’t even come out as a blip on most peoples radar, who pass through that airport.
Looking over the upper-level balcony in DIA onto the waiting line to pass through security was almost breath taking, (mainly because I didn’t want to stand in the friggin’ line), the shear number of bodies that inhabited that space, waiting to disperse from here. Standing in line, I was nervous, wondering if I was going to get yelled at for anything: I have no liquids, check. No knives, check. No bombs, check. Check check and check. When people get ready to depart there are no smiles, no expressions of joy, or exchanges of hugs that we see when people arrive to where there are going. Instead there are just stern somber faces, following rules just like everyone else, screaming children, upset mothers, and agitated lovers. It is odd to think that so many people pass through this one single place, so many different pairs of feet have treaded this exact same path. There are so many possibilities for lives to intersect, to make some sort of contact with another human life, but do we? No. And I am no exception, too scared to take the first step.

Walking to my gate I pass people I will never know, never meet, and probably never see again. But for one brief moment our lives intersected, there was no hello, head nod, or even eye contact, for we live in an age of isolation. Next time I think I will say hello to see who you are.

My stop in Chicago is just a layover, a fueling stop for a lot of people on this flight. They are headed to Amsterdam. I always like walking around the terminal looking at where all the other flights are headed, were everyone else’s lives are going, and imagine what it would be like to be on that flight. The plane I am sitting in is a Boeing 777 and it is pretty sweet, in front of me in the back of the seat is a built in mini-screen – yes I get cable on my flight to Chicago. Another nifty feature is that it has a map feature letting the passenger approximately know where they are in the sky. We took off about an hour ago and are somewhere over Iowa. I have my passport on me, would they let me just fly all the way to Amsterdam? Skipping Chicago completely. Never getting off at the layover, sleeping until we are well over the Atlantic? I think I’ll close my eyes and see if it happens.



p.s. They wouldn't let me stay on the plane, so I walked down the long plank to baggage claim, holding my breath.

The Parable of the Sockgod.

"And Sockgod said to the bunny bring me more followers, ‘Bah!’ And the bunny brought more followers."

Most of us know this great parable of the Black Vatican. For those of you who don't there is no explanation good enough to explain it, you just have to wait and ask us in person so we can show you the story. Sockgod progressed from just its small beginnings from being worshipped by the bunnies to having found true love in Sockgoddess, to having Sockbaby.

One of our new members of the Flock, Alter Grrrl, our Ambassador to the unholy Lands of California, brings us something new and exciting for the continuation of the story!
“Behold the legend of Sockbaby. Do you know where all of those socks go when you lose them in the laundry? They go to the Sockearth where the Sockpeople live. The Sockpeople are fallen, sinful bastards just like us and they need a savior too. Just as Jesus came to Earth as one of us, so he went to Sockearth as one of them. Through a strange cacophony of events, Sockbaby ends up in yet another world inhabited by demonic men in suits and good guys like Ronnie Cordova and Burger, and so the saga begins...”



Also it is another sad, sad day in the ministry for there might be a shortage on the Communal Drink of the Vatican. Yes you heard me right we might experience a shortage of tequila due to fucking capitalism. A lot of farmers are now burning agave fields to get ready to plant corn crops because a corn crop will yield more annual income for the farmers. I don’t blame the farmers, I understand they have to make a living and that is already hard enough without having a product that the price is at rock bottom levels. I understand that with corn they will have at least for a while a better means of living; I do however blame our capitalistic society that we live in.

“Capitalism is the Devil’s wet dream.” ~Ani DiFranco

Does the Boggie Man exist?

Nightmares have plagued my dreams recently. Well in truth if I remember my dreams they are usually the bad ones. I think it is coming from the fact I am getting myself worked up about a trip to Chicago that will be happening here in a week and a half…(crap is it really that soon?) I can never really remember my entire dream upon waking; just bits and pieces of surrealism that feels almost like half memories. Terror clutches my movements in the dreams, something is after me, I need to hide from something, but I can never remember what it is, or even if it is harmful. Other nights they are dreams about death, people around me dying, family members, uncontrollable sadness and sobbing. The details that I do end up remembering are things like I am carrying an orange basketball around in the snow, that has been slashed in half and is important for some reason, or the costumes used for behind the scenes, the look into the side wings where the audience isn't suppose to go are more elaborate than those for the audience.

Maybe Linus is right, I just need to stop eating spicy foods before going to bed.



I am flying out to Chicago to visit my mother on the 3rd of June. I will be there for an entire week, and already I am trying to plot my escape routes. Hopefully I will be able to steal away into downtown for a day, and spend time in Boystown, or the Greek or Indian section. Hopefully I will be able to find my old friends and hang out with them too. I am excited to see my puppy again, ok so she is going on 10, but she will always be my puppy. With any luck I will leave with money for fall tuition. It will be a week out of this state.



And just remember what our beloved brethren of Monty Python taught us:

“Cheer up, Brian. You know what they say: some things in life are bad. They can really make you mad. Other things just make you swear and curse. When you're chewing on life's gristle, don't grumble; give a whistle, and this'll help things turn out for the best. And...always look on the bright side of life...”

The Compu Dragon! Haha all shall fear me!

There are many other things I could be doing with my time this summer while at work. For example reading, homework and otherwise, but no I spend my time on game sites and horrible What is your...quiz. :-) I'ma Superhero!!

Your Superhero Profile

Your Superhero Name is The Compu Dragon Your Superpower is Seduction Your Weakness is Cotton Candy Your Weapon is Your Poison Tentacles Your Mode of Transportation is Snowboard

What's your Superhero Name?

A Black Vatican Testimonial!

I, your beloved Alter Boi, have exciting news to share! I have been redeemed by his Unholiness the Pontifix Niger. You see for quite some time I was sinner in our Black Pope’s eyes; it was a sad sad thing. I hardly ever posted on my blog, my life had no meaning that I could find to share with others. But now! Now! I have seen the light, Alleluia! See being one of the redeemed is not only good status with the Black Vatican; it also comes with many benefits. Like what you might ask? Well, the chance at beatification, the chance to watch your hit count rise like no other! Now that I am one of the redeemed, I fully intended to live up to that title, I will witness and testify in the dark name of the Black Vatican forever more.

*raises left hand*
Blessings on all of you, of a squid, may it do you well in water!
Left Hand of the Black Pope
Alter Boi



On a much sadder note, I’d like to take this moment to pay respect to the cassette tape.
Really when looked at cassette tapes really weren’t that great in the first place: the tape player liked to eat them, they got mangled and tangled, and could snap in an instant. Dust was pure kryptonite to them, and they never really sounded as good as say vinyl or even CDs. Especially now that we have MP3 players running rampant, that can store as many songs as it would take probably close to 2,000 cassettes to hold, it is hard to see cassettes sticking around. This demise of the old cassette tape also means the demise of mixtapes. Somehow in my world making a playlist for a loved one, just isn’t as romantic as making a mixtape. So if you would all bow your heads in a moment of silence while we mourn the loss of our beloved mixtapes and cassettes.

Mass Genocide of the Earthworm People.

I have to question the earthworms when it rains. While growing up, we learned that earthworms come to the surface mainly for better foraging and mating purposes. As a little kid I didn’t care why so many earthworms were scattered about on the sidewalks, it was just cool. My friends and I collected the worms when it rained, usually not to save them; we had better plans than to save the earthworms. We’d take them for bait when we went fishing on the weekends down at the park pond, we flung them at the other girls in our class to gross them out, hell sometimes my friends would even just step on them for the hell of it. (I have to admit I did try to save a few earthworms in my time, but hanging out with the boys I did, it was pointless.)

Nowadays I wonder what cultural means does coming to the surface for the earthworm people mean. Most of them end up dead on the sidewalks. Have these earthworms been banished from their villages? Did they do something so horrible that their fate is to die among the giants? Has another empire of worms over taken there land and these are the left over bodies from the war? Maybe it is none of those, maybe this is a test, a rite of passage, a coming of age event. The new generation of earthworms are forced to the surface and told to fend for themselves. If they can make it back to the village then today, these worms become men…or worm-men. Maybe it is just the fact that our concrete slabs have confused them and they can’t find the rich soil they once buried beneath. Maybe this is a sign of my sanity being lost, or maybe just the fact that I am stuck indoors for most of the day and spend my time contemplating such things.
I think mainly, I just think too much.

Do you smell that?

It is fresh grass being cut.
Lilac trees starting to bloom.
Dirt mixing with fresh rain.
Sun-tan lotion mixed with perfume.

Windows are thrown open in response to the warm air outside, time to circulate life again. I’ve started my spring cleaning this week, even though it is now the start of summer. I’ve kept a lot of things from my past; things to cling to papers, notes, school grades (from elementary school). Most peoples' parents hold on to these things, but in my case I’ve had to hold on to these... thinking they might come in handy, that they might be important, but I have come to realize most of it is just clutter. Along with the moldy leftovers and cheese, along with the old magazines piling up that aren’t even addressed to me, I am throwing out my past. I am throwing out my history, or at least it feels that way. It feels as though I am ripping part of me out, and throwing it into the brown, crusty dumpster behind my building. Most of this crap is just that, crap, loose ends of a previous life that should no longer to affect me. I’m putting this extra baggage behind me, or at least the physical remnants of it.

There is still a lot of day-light left.
I think it is time for a walk before handball this evening.

Yup, it's that time of year...again.

I remember
preparing this week
for the final shot,
the last pose.

It almost didn't come
late in the week
on the way out of town,
chattering through coffee
we said goodbye in the street;
no photographic sentiment-
just
bites of words
tossed across an empty gutter;
my body swinging 'round
moving briskly through the rain.
-B.A.S. 4/4/07

I awoke this morning to a grey drizzle and thought, "What a great way to start summer break." As it tends to do this time of year the rain eventually turned into a light snow, huge flakes failing slowly to the ground wet and soggy. The wetness and irony of snow in May makes me smile. Goodbyes are hardly ever uttered between one another. It sounds to final, to much of an end for us to deal with. Last night was yet another graduation party for some friends, with massive amounts of fajitas, wine, and warmth. Two of my friends are off on an epic European Backpacking trip for two months, and then one of them takes off to the Peace Corp for two years, and the other will spend the next year in Russia studying. A night of massive Uno and trying not to say goodbye, there was a lot of “I’ll see you later this summer.” “We’ll write…call if you can.” I didn’t expect this semester to be quite this many people leaving, but then again I never do. I never expected to find such great friends. But as it was said last night, This is just another beginning, another adventure.


Every once in a while my father surprises me by sending me e-mails that aren’t just random forwards. I thought this one was appropriate for the time of year. It is Steve Jobs giving a graduation speech.


So I agree, stay hungry, stay foolish on the way down these adventures.
As I will be drinking tonight a toast:
To new beginnings and old endings, to new found friends, old and dear friends, absent friends, and to those we always hold in our hearts.
May your hearts be happy, and hugs be readily availble where ever your travels take you.

Blurred Moments.

We spend so much time trying to reclaim our youth. Trying to recapture moments of childhood, when everything was easier to understand. Time is spent grabbing at pieces of memories taking the chance to retrieve our lost innocence. My moments were spent making up for lost time this weekend, taking in breath taking moments of brilliance and beauty from those around me. A night spent in the 80’s of bad hair, even more horrible clothes, too much ballad rock, and a moment of our song.
“Help me to decide
Help me make the most
of freedom and of pleasure
nothing ever lasts forever
Everybody wants to rule the world”


The stars were out in all their glory, as the group raced along asphalt under feet, and under tired rubber and metal to a moment taking place that was bigger than any of us could hope to be apart of. A night spent under cardboard boxes, a night spent in a displacement camp. This is our movement; this is our time to make a stand, to make a difference. I always said when I grew up I wanted to do something or be apart of something that will change the world, I have found that it is not one great big event, for some people it is, not me. It is all the little things that make the difference.

Scavenged bagels and fruit filled our stomachs and warmed our bodies from the night before. The morning sun came over the horizon kissing our skin awake. There were a handful of kid things I kinda missed out on. Either I wouldn’t let myself be a kid, or I just never did. After we disbursed from our make-shift refugee camp, we spent time in the grass; our only care was when the zoo opened. Bubble kisses and tree conquering make for the perfect Sunday morning.

There is nothing out there to the best of my knowledge, except the moments we make and the friends we take a long with us and let in.

*note: most photo credits go to Mary

"All we have are our

Love and our guts baby."

It was a busy last week.
We had our second annual Day of Silence here at the university, and I was asked to speak again. This is what I had to say, I'm never sure what to say, it was put together quickly.

Breaking the Silence
Today we show the world silence can and will speak louder than words.
I was once one of the silent, the scared.
At first I was too afraid to admit I was queer to myself,
or even to my friends in GLBT community because I do not fit into the binary of straight or gay.
I have found my voice now, but there are those who remain silent out of fear,
unable to fully be themselves.

Today is about turning the silence into visibility.
I participate in this for one simple reason: I can, when so many others cannot.
We do this so people who aren't out, know that there is someone on there side.
I'm loud every day for myself, and for those who can't be.
I do it for the scared person I once was, and the strong person I am becoming.

Silence can be so loud it deafens the crowd.
Silence spends its youth locked away
Struggling to find its voice, any noise
Hope is found along with a voice,
and strong, loud friends who become family.
Silence has no place here
There is only hope eternal for a loud life
Spent showing the Silent that our voices will yell out where their's cannot.
~B.A.S. 4/18/07


WyoAIDS Walk was amazing this year. I was a registration bitch :) at the time of the walk we had raise close to $10,000. Spectrum was again top team for the 6th year running, which is awesome but the new Gay Straight Alliance in Cheyenne, Across All Lines, gave us a very big run for it, which makes smile. As most of you know after the walk comes a very fun and crazy night at Drag Queen Bingo, where we raise even more money. This year at the show alone we raised over three thousand dollars.

It takes me by surprise every year how much we can really do, especially as a community.


On another activist note Congress is looking at enacting hate crimes legislation this year. Go find out about, sign petitions, talking to your Congressmen about it.
Start by looking here.
Read more here.


"And I owe my life
to the people that I love."

Horoscopes Aren't Always Wrong:

Sagittarius November 22 - December 21

You will continue to earn the enmity of everyone in your community when the mayor once again cites you as the reason your city can't have nice things.


Have I ever mentioned I love The Onion?

It rained yesterday.

I think a girl could live off the taste of rain.

New found friends, pot-lucks, weddings, adventures, movie nights, late-night Shari's, shopping expeditions, new holes in head, visits from out of town.

These are the reasons I look forward to the day. I probably could have spent more time studying or doing "something productive". But for me this is what life is about, the friends you hold dear to you, the family you make. We only get one shot at our days, and I am sick of hearing that I need to play the role of Juliet, I'm auditioning for Mercutio's role in life.

I recently saw the movie "Water". WARNING: Yes the movie is very sad and depressing, but I believe it is very much worth watching. It talked a lot about truth and one of the lines that stuck out at me was, "To talk about the truth is easy but to live by it is not." And a line from Gandhi, (it's not completely quoted but this is the best I can do) "For a long time I thought God was truth, then I learned that truth is God." I need to find my own truth, we all do. Finding the truth that is within us, is what, I think gives us happiness, and ability to see the greatness in everyone else. Life is about finding our truths.

Grraaw!

I do pretty well with scenes for acting from actual plays, I have context I can go off of. I don't do so well when it comes to open scenes. With open scenes all we have is dialogue, no given circumstances. The first couple times I have done open scenes it has been fine, but now that we have to have at least 5 beat changes, and at least 3 changes in objective it is becoming more difficult. Yes, I know we are suppose to be challenged to grow as actors and what not, but I would much rather be sitting and doing drafting.

I Don't know if I get to go to Washington D.C. yet. The only way I get to go is if the one One Act I was crewing gets selected to go, and even then they might not take a lot of crew with. But we shall see, and keep fingers crossed.

p.s. If you didn’t notice already, the longest month of February is finally over. :)

"Rus Bus, Arive Alive!"

The above quote is one of many from my trip to Ellensburg, WA this past week for the American College Theater Festival. There is way too much from the week to post it all here, unfortuanly. But we will go with highlights from the week and see how that goes :)

8pm Sunday Feb. 18th: The bus finally arrives in the Fine Arts parking lot and after much drama and organizing the bus is packed and loaded, and we leave Laramie at 9. With a short backing up of the bus because we miss the turn off to Rawlins...oh goody.

We passed through the flats of Wyoming with a breeze, stopping before we hit the Mor-mon land boarder to stock up on provisions for the bus. Traveling through Utah most slept, and I slept all the way through most of Idaho actually too.

By the time we stopped in Oregon for some form of food we had lost tracking on time. It was sometime before 4 on Monday that Squid won a log rolling contest with her great balance skills. Yes this is a true story, and yes, I am still amazed how I actually won.

4:08 PM Pacific Time, Monday Feb. 19th: After 20 hours on the friggin' bus it is evacuted quite quickly, and Mary being a quick thinker got up to the front desk and we we're the first to get our room. Walking into the room I almost crashed out on the bed, but you know there were showers to be had, food to be found, and a campus to explore.

After trying to navigate Ellensburg almost-non-exsistant transportation system we arrived on the ground of Central Washington Universtity, luckily Squid was prepared and brought maps and what not and we found stuff. Yes, that is about how the night went, we were that tired.

The nights in WA were spent socializing and visiting kids in other hotel rooms, and probably way too much drinking and partying. Apparetnly Wyoming has a reputation to maintain at these events. While I was meeting kids from other schools, the response I always got was: "Whoa, you are from Wyoming you kick ass in competions, and know how to party." So yes we win and we drink. The days and nights of the week have blurred together because ya know, I had to keep up my end of the reputation too ;)

Tuesday was the pre-lims for the acting competition and one of the main stage shows called Life and Limb.
Tuesday night was well Mardi Gras. Enough said.
Wednesday consisted of a lot of the tech workshops I went to, and helping load in what they call a Splash scene, which was basically working with scene partners you have never worked with before.
Thursday was my real work day, I helped load in and work two of our One Acts we took to Festival.

Friday was by far one of my best days there. Some of us who really were there for not much a a reason rented a vehical and took off to Seattle for the day! Where I spent most of the day with Nerdy and some new found friends!! I went and checked out the Abbey were Nerdy works, met Ana who rocks my socks. We then ventured onto Capitol Hill and hungout on Broadway. Found some awesome thrift stores, and of course I bought a tie. We met up with Alex as well and spent dinner in the International District with tasty Potatoe and Onion pankcakes, and salt and pepper tofu. Ana at one point tried to convencie me to transfer and I said don't tempt me which was a bad idea, because she is a good temptress. The night ending with multiple good byes, to Alex and Ana, and then to Nerdy after she got me safe and sound back with my peeps from Wyoming.

Saturday was the Acting comp Finals and getting ready to leave. Saturday night was the awards ceremony, and Wyoming as usual swept the awards. We took both postions for the acting comp to go to Washington D.C. All three One Acts, did amazing and one took first in the comp. And many other awards. Once we got back to the hotel, there was much celebrating to be had. I was found by family who noticed my necklace, and said she was glad she wasn't the only family there, which was super exciting. The rest of the night morphs into wandering around too many halls, and rooms, but was worth it, and most of the department pulling an all nighter and being drunk on the bus when we left the hotel at 6 am Sunday morning.

I had a great time, and miss Seattle greatly, but at 4:30 this morning was greatful to be touching Wyoming ground, and even more grateful when I got home to sleep in my own bed.

Do You Mind? Come on it's Dropkick Murphy's.

Fine. This blog post probably won't make much sense. But Mary, Gina, Linus and I are having coffee at Coal Creek. Mary and I are getting ready and trying to be disctracted from the nervous jitters about leaving, not sure why the nervous jitters but they are there. At 8 we board the bus with 46 other theater students to drive to Washington for ACTF, the theater festival for our University's region. I am excited. I am nervous. But really I am tired which is good since the bus drive is close to 20 hours. Hope you all have a great week!

....<3's

Once again, many of us find ourselves bitter and callous today, on Valentine's day. I usually hate this holiday and protest by not going anywhere, this year I am going to try something a little different. I will be venting my angst at the Love Bites poetry slam, and sharing with you all some great cards I got from a dear friend.

www.gbehh.com <---for more hilarous cards any time of the year!

For the official invite to the V-Day Slam visit Linus' blog.

And go check out Nerdy's blog; she has some kick ass cards on there as well.

I really wished I lived in Belguim, I would much rather be spending my time today at this oxygen bar.

On a more serious note though, I hate that we need a holiday to be able to let everyone around us know that we care about them, especially our significant others. To steal a line from one of my poems I am reading tonight...:

I'm not saying those who participate in these rituals are completely ignorant or sidetracked by what our culture is deeming as a priority. I'm simply stating why can't everyday be Valentine's Day?

Minus the emphasis on reds and pinks.

Hearts and flowers.

If you care for someone, shouldn't you let them know whenever the thought strikes that the appreciation is there?

Just saying.

Impending Doom O'doomness! Squeee!!

Converstations that happen between user/pofessors, while working at the lab 2 minutes before you get off work:

Professor from the lab next door: "Who are you again?"
Me: "The Lab Assistant."
Prof: "Oh, right. Well, I have a problem."
Me: "How can I help you?"
Prof: "Do you have any extra mice?"
Me: Mice? Yes I carry a pocket full of mice with me at all times to feed my snake in my backpack! "Um, no we don't have any extras here in the lab. Why? What is the problem?"
Prof: "It's old and not working! It is one of the mice with the rolly ball on the bottom still."
Me: What? We don't even have those kind any more... (the new lab assistant walks in) "Well, what we can do is have her(the new LA) look at the mouse and submit the problem into our database and have one of our techs looks at it."

The professor goes back to setting up, and two minutes later comes back knocks on door and says "Never mind someone beat ya to it, it is ok!"
Me: "Ok" ya weirdo.
Three minutes later:
Prof knocks on door again: "I lied it is still not working, the scrolly thing doesn't move."
Me: The scrolly thing? to the other lab assitant: "Can you take a look at it? I have to go to class."
Prof: "And I can never remember how to save PowerPoint but the scroll works fine on PowerPoints, all I have to do is click the mouse."

Some days people's brains confuse me.

I live in a frozen tundra, of a waste land.

It is 8:30 at night, the temperature outside is -10°. That is not including wind chill which we are in a “Wind chill Warning” until 11am tomorrow, it feels like -27° outside. I HATE the cold! It makes me lethargic, I don’t want to go outside, let alone walk to classes…and the low for tonight is -45°. My dad always talked about “That One Winter” where it was -50°, but I didn’t really believe it. My bad. I don’t have enough layers for this kind of weather, damn it.

It doesn’t help that right now I am really home sick. Not really for my parents, because that was never really home, but right now I miss my God-Mom, Mom. I smell like patchouli right now because it reminds me of her smell, I hadn’t realized that was why I felt a little better while wearing it until Gina told me that I smelled how Mom use to always smell. I miss sitting on the couch in the living room with Tessa, Tessa reading out loud and Mom sitting with Christina helping her with school. I guess I do miss my parents in some ways, I miss the few days in-between my dad’s disappearing acts where he cooked dinner, and we would have movie marathons.

It also doesn’t help that my mother called this afternoon. She wants me to fly out to Indiana in a little less than a week, my Aunt Judy passed away yesterday, and she wants me to be at the funeral. If she would buy the round-trip ticket, yes I would go. But she won’t, says she can’t. I don’t have that kind of money to spend, and I hate to say this but I met my aunt Judy and the rest of my mom’s family once before in my life. I will call my grandmother and other aunts and give my condolences and send flowers. The conversation also consisted of her still not understanding my major, a new found interest in my love life and wondering why I don’t have a boyfriend and my quick explanation of “I’m too busy for a relationship right now.”

I am going to curl up with Puppy(my stuffed ami-nal) underneath a huge pile of blankets, drink some tea, and watch Evangelion. Can’t we cancel school tomorrow?

*Grumble....freakin' neighbors...Grumble Grumble*

I was a good kid last night, I went to bed at 10:30, I was going to have an awesome night of sleep, but apparently it was not in the plans for my night.

At 4:18 this morning, I rolled over and was awoken by an obnoxious blaring beep in my ear. It was kind of similar to some sort of alarm, but I don’t think it was an alarm. After wondering for quite sometime “What the fuck is that?” I figured out it was not in fact, my laptop, my mp3 player, my TV or DVD player, my Refrigerator, my bathroom, my kitchen, a or bomb set to go off in my room. It was coming from my neighbor’s apartment. I figured it would stop after 15 minutes….then after 20….then after 45…finally after an hour and a half I got so fed up that I yanked all my blankets off my bed, my pillow, and crawled into my closet to sleep. (my closet has a door and I figured that would help block out the sound) I could barely, faintly hear the annoying beep. Normally this would not be a problem ignore it just a little and it would be fine, but since my brain had been focused on it for so long that was all I could hear.

Maybe it was the evil monkey’s plot to ensure I was super tired and grumpy today, or maybe it was even part of Benedict’s evil plan to squash the Black Vatican, but whatever it was, when I finally crawled out of the closet this morning the awful noise had stopped.

AAAHHHHHAAHHHH!!!

The world is coming to an end!!! RUN for Your LIVES!!!!
...... Wait, you mean...the evil space monkeys and tarantulas aren't attacking? ...Oh *clears throat* right, then. Well, go back about your business, nothing further to see here except a busy schedule.

It official, well as official as it can be right now, I am going to Ellensburg, WA in a little less than three weeks for the Kennedy Center American College Theater Festival, or ACTF. We will be gone for an entire week, and there is so much to get done. I am working on three of the five productions this semester, and working 30 hrs. a week. Is there really enough time to get everything done before the semester ends?? I am also helping out with the lighting of one of the 10 minute One Acts that we are performing at ACTF which is super exciting!

Maybe I have official snapped, or maybe it's the Stockholm Syndrome talking, but I kind of like the cold weather. The crisp walk to classes wakes me up in the morning, and lately they have been beautiful with the bright blue sky and crisp white ground. At night it is fun to watch snowflakes fall in the street lights. The cold reminds me that I am alive, reminds me also that I am not permanent.

I’m working on a new poem and I figured I share it:

there is self loathing love abounds
there is little to do and little to say
and leaves and snowflakes on the ground

a breaking heart does not make a sound
I think I could be better for you another day
there is self loathing love abounds

I am looking to be lost, and you to be found
It is cold here with the breeze coming off
of the mountains capped in snow
and leaves and snowflakes on the ground

our words only circle and confound
we can't say what we want to say
there is self loathing love abounds

neither of us dares to expound
there are prices here we cannot pay
and leaves and snowflakes on the ground

before you're out of sight, I turn around
you look at your feet, or the other way
there is self loathing love abounds
and leaves and snow flakes on the ground
~B.A.S.

Shoestrings of Death

I hate shoestrings nowadays. None of the really cool ones are long enough for normal shoes anymore. I received an awesome pair of Gir (Yay! Gir!) shoelaces for Christmas-ish kinda. Anyways I wear wide vans skate shoes, after the horrible struggle of getting them laced; I come to find that they are not even long enough to tie! Apparently this is the next step in American laziness. ‘Parently they are made wide so they don’t loosen your shoes, but you still don’t have to tie them. I think this is retarded, I want to tie my damn shoes! I know I could go back to my old shoelaces which worked just fine, but damn it, I like my new Gir ones, well only if they would tie.

The hair has changed once again!! Yay no more horrible roots or weird peach orange hair. Once I get access to a digital camera or phone with half-way decent picture taking I will hopefully be able to show you all.

I played with table saws and a screwdriver today w00t!

Ooohh and for all of you web-comic fans out there…I know your there it’s okay. I have found a teh awesome website that has a large selection of alcoholic beverages based on various web-comics. Some of them aren't really alcoholic beverages... but rather attempts at comedy. So ya know if it says cyanide or anti-freeze you really shouldn’t drink it, because you know, ya might die! But they are funny and awesome!

Enjoy!

The Dilliema

(bear with me on this post; yes it will be a little rocky)

Basically boils down to: yes, I am a theater major, I am spastic, I like Indian food, I am a punk, I can cook, I have a huge heart and get my heart broken easily, I grew up in Small Town, Wyoming, I am a geek…..I like both girls and boys, I am queer. But the last line people tend to see as all someone is, and as stated is not true, that is one of the last things I want someone to know about me.

I have always struggled with this, and I think a lot of people in the queer community do as well. I am very involved in social change and making the world safer for everyone, I choose to focus my energy on the lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgendered community. I am an activist. Sometimes, though, I feel that when we are out spoken, people see me as the queer activist and that is all, and that terrifies me. I am not sure why, probably because I worry way too much about my self-image and how others view me. When we do events, part of me is always asking, is this necessary? Are we just putting the spot light on ourselves again? And the other part of me is saying “yes!” if we don’t bring up these issues who will, when will it become comfortable to talk about freely? We’re not trying to get special treatment, we have no agenda, and we just want the same basic human rights as everyone else.

Last night we had a workshop between the gay community and Greek life. I was terrified, for several reasons. A.) What if they agreed to do this just because it looks good and they really do hate us? B.) What if they are really all cool, and view this as pointless and us trying create something there isn’t? C.) I talked to a friend about it, to see if they were going because I thought it would interest them because it involves their community, and I kind of got it thrown back in my face. “Yeah that’s just what we need another panel about it”, and basically said that it was pointless. It hurt, and got me to thinking about all of this. A lot of it boils down to perceptions and we talked about those last night. How we think each group is perceived by each other and the greater community. We found out that we have a lot of things in common actually. Both groups feel that we are invisible and have no real presence on campus. We are very involved in community service; we are both misperceived as having “loose morals”, no good values when it comes to hooking up and drinking. We started the workshop throwing out the idea that everyone kind of thinks of when we both think of each group: the gays are anti-Greek and the Greeks are anti-gay. It came down to breaking all of these misperceptions down, and stating that its ok to dialogue, and I think (I had to leave early), but I think we opened up some great lines of communication. The Greeks are good people, and we talked about how to make it more comfortable, more inviting for someone if they were gay or anything and wanted to rush for a house.

So….how do we balance the double edge sword, of being out and an activist, but not having that control our image and who we are? Does it matter if it is all for the greater good? Are we making a greater good by being loud? I don’t know, I know some people who are part of the queer community who do not do any sort of activism, they think we shouldn’t, we should just be able to co-exist in the world, but if we didn’t have the activism would we still be oppressed and looked down upon? Is it because they are afraid of everyone else’s perspective on them, or do they just not care. Does all boil down to apathy? And will that apathy destroy our humanity?

Currently Listening To: Namoli Brennet- We Belong
http://www.namolibrennet.com/index.cfm

Can't Breathe Properly

For the record I hate being sick, I feel whiny and complainy, have no energy, I feel like a pile of poo, and to top it all off breathing sucks because then I start coughing. Ok maybe not poo per say but you get the idea.

The date went well and I had a lot of fun. We have a rain -check for the movie portion, because at the time there were no great movies that either of us wanted to see. I was going to cash in the rain-check today or I should later this evening for the movie, but with being sick and all I probably won't. Blah.

It has been super cold here recently, and my apartment doesn't keep heat that well. I have a little heater down stairs in storage, but I haven't wanted to bust it out yet because well the heat I have now is free, and the heater would run on my electric bill. It might have to come to that though. For now though I think I am going to curl up under my covers, and I think Gremlins and nap is order, most definitely a nap.