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.
Monday, August 20, 2007
Thursday, August 16, 2007
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*
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*
Friday, July 20, 2007
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.)
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.)
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
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?
: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?
Monday, July 16, 2007
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
Check out the trailer.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UdW7rbcfGzs
Friday, July 13, 2007
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.
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.
Thursday, July 12, 2007
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."
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."
Friday, June 29, 2007
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
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
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
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.”
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.”
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
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!
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!
Monday, June 18, 2007
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
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
Wednesday, June 06, 2007
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.
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.
Sunday, June 03, 2007
"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.
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.
Thursday, May 31, 2007
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
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
Thursday, May 24, 2007
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...”
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...”
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
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 |
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
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.
*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.
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
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.
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.
Thursday, May 10, 2007
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.
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.
Friday, May 04, 2007
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.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)