That which you love most will eventually become a burden.

And thus starts Donna's Depressing Daily Devotional.

talking

they believed.

the rested hardly

looking forward to the day

then they danced. danced.

danced and swooned.

 

at the table, i never.

she never. he never. no one drinks. no one ever has.

 

no point.

don't fight

don't hurt

relax

relax

relax

relax

relax

turn out the lights.

*sighs* sometimes i just start to think that i'm not meant to fund my hobbies with my unborn children.

so there it was... in amongst the crawfish. the damnedest thing. a baby’s arm!

we stared at it for a while. didn’t know where it came from.

but boy, i tell you what... with a little drawn butter that sucker went down easy! now don’t get me wrong, i’m not one of those sickos that’s going to go out there amputating babies for dinner... but if you do happen to find a baby arm in your crawfish boil, it’s a tastey treat!

i'm tellin ya. when it's just you staring into the inky blackness of a gerbil's eyes, with no habitrail between you... that's when you'll learn the real meaning of fear

donna-ism #243

too much like life
often said as an end to playing a game (particularly a video game) where the fun has turned into work that no one is going to appreciate and in which no tangible prize is evident.

i.e. "i stopped playing 'the sims' because no matter what i did people were always whining about something. it was too much like life."

psychocatblah: are you getting me a manicure?
jrenwick93: possibly
psychocatblah: a facial?
jrenwick93: possibly
psychocatblah: a makeover?
jrenwick93: possibly
psychocatblah: a pedicure?
jrenwick93: possibly
psychocatblah: an enema?
jrenwick93: possibly
psychocatblah: i'm not going if there's the possibility of an enema

well alrighty then...

i don't know why i have to go on and on about my parents. i guess they're just so much a part of me and who i am that i find them particularly interesting and funny. i don't want people to get the impression that i don't like them or think they're bad people. they're just... quirky *grins*

having said that, i now have to totally trash my dad. no...not really trash him. just his beliefs. well, ok, not all of them. mom and dad aren't particularly religious but dad is politically very conservative. my mother is pretty liberal. i'm pretty... mixed up.

however, the day that my dad said to me, in one of his signature outbursts from out of nowhere "the damn government's supporting the gays to keep the population down!"

first i felt my brow furrow as i tried to translate this into a sentence that made sense. then i felt my head cock to the right, like a puppy trying to figure out particularly puzzling behavior. "WHAT?" i asked.

"the government... it encourages people to be gay so that there won't be a big population explosion!" i could only imagine that this was the paraphrased genius of rush limbaugh, who's arguments lack logic like hicks lack teeth: there's enough to chew with, but they still ain't there.

now first i had to ask my dad "is there a gay tax break that i don't know about?" because really, at the time i wasn't really seeing anyone and i figured with a cash incentive i could play gay for the IRS. but there wasn't. it was a lie. damn! i never did quite get out of him what the government did to encourage "the gays" as he calls them. i guess maybe by trying to protect them from violence it's encouraging it? i don't know.

secondly, providing that there is a massive government conspiracy... a network of shadow men lurking in single's bars and the internet passing out gay porn and astroglide... what's wrong with controlling the population? i mean, as long as it's voluntary, are we all so in love with traffic that we want more and more people clogging the freeways? i'm not saying let's get rid of people, but if the government really was so proactive as to try now to tamp down on unneccessary breeding, why would that be such a horrible thing?

Take the "Which Nationality Are You?" test at OuchCryManson Made by: and

you all just keep telling yourselves that serial killers rarely kill people they know

i like presents

ask anyone. me and presents go waaaaay back. i love them. my mother brings me presents whether she visits here or i visit there. of course, due to my mother's undying devotion to the 99 cent store, and her uncanny ability to repeatedly buy the same item over and over with no recollection of having bought it before, i tend to get a lot of the same presents over and over.

i picture her in the 99 cent store... maybe not really going every day, of course. that would be excessive. but maybe she goes in every other day. and every other day as she goes in she looks at the array of unchanging junk and crap that lay before her, all at the fabulously low price of 99 cents.

she goes through, picking things up... thinking about her friends and her family. people she wants to give these tiny pieces of plastic junk from taiwan to. i also see a mountain of darth maul pens. left over from a huge overestimation of the popularity of 1, star wars episode 1, 2, darth maul, and 3, the number of pens the american public could possibly want or need of darth maul. the 99 cent store, and now my mother, seems to have an unending supply of these sinister red and black pens.

what you have to understand is that my parents really are great people. they may not understand this whole goth thing, but in their own way they try to be supportive. mom sees something dark, maybe sort of sinister, she associates it with goths and brings it immediately to me or my husband ryan. remember the gargoyles cartoon? i never even saw an episode, but i had a gargoyle puppet. did i go see the disney version of "the hunchback of notre dame"? nope. do i have nearly every collectible from it? i sure do.

so on my last visit to my parents' place, we went first to my father's store in spring. we hung around there for a while and then my mother and i agreed to head off to Spec's and then head to their house. driving back from Spec's i mentioned that ryan and i were looking forward to getting our darth maul pen. her jaw dropped as if i'd just told her her most secret childhood story in detail.

"HOW DID YOU KNOW YOU WERE GETTING A DARTH MAUL PEN?!?!" she gasped.

"well, based on the fact that every other time i've seen you lately i've gotten one, i just kind of figured..." i answered, a little unsure if she was just playing around.

suddenly i started thinking about my betta fish. how you're not supposed to feel bad for them being in those small bowls because they only have a 2-second memory. every circle around the bowl is a new adventure for them. and they're happy that way.

smileystickman: story for you to appreciate:
smileystickman: john was in major pain, so we went to the ER.
psychocatblah: oh no!
smileystickman: and because they couldn't figure out what was wrong, this one dude stuck his finger up john's ass...
smileystickman: and then another guy stuck his finger up john's ass....
smileystickman: and then they had to stick an anal probe up john's ass...
smileystickman: and we kept saying "donna's really missing out."
psychocatblah: wait a minute
psychocatblah: did you go to the ER or did he get beamed up?

should my mom wear a thong?

ever since last night's slightly drunken shopping trip taken with my mother to "down town spring" aka 1960 FM there's been a brewing controversy in my head about what to do about this. the night started out innocently enough. we were going to go to the hong kong market. ryan had wanted to do this and i wasn't going to let the fact that i drank half of 2 bottles of wine deter me. mom also wanted to go along. we don't see my parents all that often, so drunk or not, we feel like we should spend time together and since much of my relationship with my mother is based around shopping it seemed to make its own drunken sense.

ryan enjoys japanese culture. i enjoy asian food. mom... well... mom was there to give us bad directions, i guess. forgetting the 20-minute trip that turned 45 minute trip to the market, we went inside the converted food lion off of vetran's memorial. i firstly picked up an asian pear that i thought my mother might enjoy and some thai peppers that i thought dad would like.

there was much ooohing and awww ing, fussing about sugar content and fretting over the level of glaze on the eyes of the swordfish and we were out of there. full of soy milk, exotic teas, and toothpicks.

we then headed to half price books where i found a david sedaris book on tape "barrel fever" that i just had to have for the trip home and then a few little things for gifts. also bought dad a dr. seuss green eggs and ham watch. dad used to read that story to me to get me to go to sleep. in fact, this oration skills with that book were such that he won 2nd place regionally for reading that book to the toastmasters. in my own mind, i picutre the 1st place winner tucking all of the balding, grey haired men into bed for night night. sweet dreams!

finally i thought it was time mom saw a sex shop. it is right by where her school administration building is. this concerns her. i told her that people who stayed at work to monitor the door of zone de erotique needed another hobby. perhaps i'm wildly underestimating the wiley SISD adminisration. maybe they were there. but then they'd have to admit that they were watching....

tons of cool catherine coatney stuff there. way out of my price range. i love it, though. tried some things on. loved them. had meaningful discussions with my mom about the advantages of pvc over leather. she tells me that dad would never take her someplace like this. that what she really wants is sexy lingerie for xmas. and birthday. you know, whatever.

not to put too much undue pressure on my parents sex life, but i wonder how much it would really get used. i buy her a jacket, as i did this year, she swears she's going to wear it to tatters. this is a nice thing to say, i guess. but what if i get her that little lace chemise? "i'm going to wear that until your father violates me repeatedly with his long, hard cock! and after the cum stains are too much for us to get off, then i'll give it to goodwill."

i'd nod, doing my best mulder-face. "if that's what you want to do....it's your birthday i guess..."

the sims

Jamideadly: you start out with a budget and you buy a house..then you find a job if you want to make more money..you start out with a shell of a house, and then you fill it with whatever furniture you want..they have different options and styles with different prices depending on how much you want to spend
Jamideadly: your people have all the needs of regular people and you have to keep up this chart so if they are dying of hunger you have to go eat or need to pee, they go into their little bathroom and use the toilet
Jamideadly: haha and they take a shower..go to bed..all that stuff
Jamideadly: you can go shopping and try on clothes
Jamideadly: And then the Sims have sim sleaze with sim condoms
Jamideadly: Well not really...but they should make a expansion pack for that ;-)
psychocatblah: hmm... that sounds too much like life
Jamideadly: haha but you play god with the sim people
Jamideadly: you can create and destroy...muhahahahaha
psychocatblah: you know... who am i to be god? is my life so great that i should tell little pixel people what they should be doing? i mean... look at me! bad hair! big ass! ;-)
Jamideadly: haha but its the best power trip ever
psychocatblah: and i'd probably just starve them to death
psychocatblah: ask my fish. i'm a bad god
Jamideadly: and it makes me wonder if we are all sim people being controlled by some game player in the sky
psychocatblah: i totally crumbled under the pressure of my pocket pikachu
Jamideadly: yes my brother used to call me the "hitler of sea monkeys" but i didn't mean to kill all those families
psychocatblah: the brine cleansing?
Jamideadly: yes the shrimp holocaust
Jamideadly: yes i pulled the battery on my pikachu
psychocatblah: at least it died with dignity

Blissed out early christmas morning.

I've spent the day watching the xfiles season 4. the whole day. without commercial interruption. i think i'm seriously working on a dour/fixed face expression in a suit fetish. or maybe i'm just feeling squirmy about skin pustules. i'm not sure.

sometimes i wonder if they end up buying that stuff by the gallon. you know, the goo. the pus-like substance. it's good for monsters, good for icky-looking skin abrasions. Probably a bazillion uses that a spooky Martha stewart would have listed somewhere. Speaking in her oh-so-calming voice she'd explain how alien goo is good for putting a good top glaze on the top of your vinyl flooring. Gives it a nice sheen without being too flashy, or eating into the vinyl. Or something.

I ended up with a plethora of CDs and dvds and books. Yet I tell everyone how busy I am all the time. I guess they've finally figured out what I'm busy doing.

I got a yoga dvd which I'm hoping to get a lot of use out of. You know, until I get bored with watching it :) I also got the first season of the simpsons and of twin peaks. on pre-order i have buffy the vampire slayer.

i expect that it will be easy to tell what boxed set I'm in the middle of watching based on what my images are looking like. "hmm... models painted yellow... must be the simpsons" "ahh... donna's wrapped in plastic series... must be watching twin peaks." i guess when buffy comes in i can go back to being known as a gothic photographer. hmm... that might be nice...

From: Random Cokehead
To: Donna at her day job
Sent: Wed 12/19/01 12:22 AM

Subject: what do you doing playing

Dear Sir,
You don't plan gave me a phone. I think that you are con
Patty

 

From: Random Cokehead
To: Donna at her day job
Sent: Wed 12/19/01 12:28 AM

Subject: Stop the con

Becouse I am tell you a con You should be ashame of youseld

 

it's the people that i meet in my life that really make a difference.

Kurt Kobain seemed sure that fish don't have any feelings, what did he know that we don't?

i can't believe you've gone this whole time without realizing that kurt cobain is aquaman

psychocatblah: who wants to get out of the tub smelling like a pina colada?
jrenwick93: Stephanie
psychocatblah: your family is weird
psychocatblah: with their coconut smellingness
jrenwick93: and Pearl Harbor/Shrek watchingness.
psychocatblah: let's unwrap their dvds and watch them
jrenwick93: nothing says Merry Christmas more than I hope you enjoy your unwrapped previewed dvd's.
psychocatblah: i don't celebrate christmas
psychocatblah: i'm umm... jewish
psychocatblah: full of the jewishness
jrenwick93: sure ok
psychocatblah: and it is against my religion to go into the mall
jrenwick93: sure, um. ok
psychocatblah: unless i'm wearing my yamaha
jrenwick93: faery wants to see the pictures. She is whimpering on silverchat as we speak.
psychocatblah: tell her to get me some coconut lotion from bath and body works and i'll put them online
jrenwick93: I don't think so.
psychocatblah: it puts the coconut on its skin. it does this when its told
psychocatblah: christine says if she were my husband she wouldn't make me go to the mall
jrenwick93: but you would be in some state that would allow same sex marriages and there might not be a mall around.
psychocatblah: yeah. and i'm not a very good wife anyways
jrenwick93: you are a good wife
psychocatblah: then will you buy me some coconut lotion at bath and body works?
jrenwick93: I thought you did not want to smell like a pina colada?
psychocatblah: oh, i don't. but since i'm not going to use it, i could give it to your sister-who-likes-to-smell-of-pina-coladas

"i think i miss how new it was "
"how i got to meet all of these new people who lived comfortably in these new places "new bars" "new restaurants "
"and they were at home "
"end of day from work and i just think of how to get past the next day"
"but before, i was thinking of summer vacation "
"time off"
"time to make things happen"

http://www.vindy.com/local_news/281904088435607.shtml

"The first woman, who filed a police report in August, said she felt something wet on her clothing. She said her mother smelled the fluid and believed it was semen, and they called police."

now...
that is a bad day on so many levels... when
1. a strange man throws semen on you
2. your mother is there
3. you find out your mother can identify semen by smell

overheard: "oh honey... is he throwing cats at you again?"

psychocatblah: http://www.gigahosts.com/~c1003/aimicons/guesticons1.html
fortyMB: i don't think i need to make a statement with my icon...
psychocatblah: i really like the 2 filing cabinets
psychocatblah: i'd have that one, but i talk to clients on here
fortyMB: Ha...i thought they were tvs
psychocatblah: i guess they could be. whatever gets you off.
fortyMB: filing cabinets humping gets you off?
psychocatblah: well.
psychocatblah: er
psychocatblah: you know...
psychocatblah: big weather we've been having
fortyMB: so like, when you visit other people's offices and you do that half sit on their filing cabinets, you are fantasizing about taking it back to your office and mating it with your cabinet?
psychocatblah: froze over last night

the sound of pathetic

i don't want to step on anyone's toes here. no. ok, i do. i think it's well established that i'm a big toe-stepper-onner and that any deviation from that behavior just backs me up. you know... mentally...

so i own a sporty car. i'm not saying a sports car, because a miata isn't really one of those big-time blow everyone's doors off cars. it corners great, the top drops and it gives me a great excuse not to have to try and help people move. or procreate. what i try to know about my car and me is my limitations on the road.

anyone that knows me or has ridden in my car (which should, in theory, be the same group of people) knows that i'm not a big risk taker. sure, i make mistakes on the road... everyone does. but i don't intentionally take big risks.

so i'm rolling in the slow lane, looking for my chance to step up to the middle lane. knowing me, i looked for a fairly large gap before i made my move. i don't know what your mother may have told you about southerners... and maybe when it comes to welcome wagons and church bazarres, they are a friendly, generous bunch. on the road, they're mostly a bunch of fuckers.

i throw the car down a gear, the song i'm listening to ends and suddenly i hear what i now believe to be the sound of pathetic. it sounded like sesame street's grover trying to imitate a car. the jagoff in the econobox was trying to close the gap.

again, i'm not the owner of a big giant 8+ cylander monster machine. just a miata. but a miata can certainly tell, say... a ford escort to Go Play Elsewhere. so i made it. no biggie.

but it makes me wonder... as traffic often does... at what point does someone's life become so sad and desperate that keeping others out of their lane is a big power trip?

 

something i said

"i've never seen anyone with a broken leg trying to jog, but i see lots of people trying to love with a broken heart."

"i'm talented, attractive and fun to be around. if i were skinny it wouldn't be fair to the others."

i'm going to conquer the world with my sappy, hallmark-sounding platitudes. you just wait.

friend: go here and vote for liberty the eagle
friend: http://www.microsoft.com/games/zootycoon/beastinshow.asp
friend: my friend works in the zoo, and she can win $$ to help her part of the zoo
me: i like the cats
friend: i didnt send you that link to vote for cats
me: the elephant is nice too
friend: whats the matter, you're too good to vote for a freaking symbol of our country?
friend: : if you vote for the elephant, the terrorists have already won.
me: they won when they took away curbside check-in
me: what a cute koala

Goodbye, sweet tequila.

Tequila and i had to part ways. it wasn't exactly mutual. i had to just kick it to the curb.

it was just one of those things.

most of the time alcohol and i have a pretty good time together. we share company, we get into trouble, but mostly it's a shared experience. not so with our dearly departed friend tequila. no, tequila just barges in, takes what he wants and takes off, leaving me to cope with the aftermath.

not fun. not fun at all.

so i say "hey senor tequila, sayonara!"

ISOFLAVONES

"So, I finally read in Shape magazine why isoflavones are good."

"HUH? Oh, right. The isoflavons adverised on the soy milk."

"Yes, the flavonoids fight the free radicals in your body."

"I'm assuming that we want the free radicals fought, then?"

"I guess so."

"How do we know that in a few years the flavonoids won't turn on us? That we won't be horrified by atrocities that the flavonoids have wrought upon our bodies without the free radicals there to keep them in check?"

"Do you want to borrow the magazine?"

my boss wasn't there for halloween one year. there was a costume contest, because i was at a large company where we had things like costume contests and hawaiian days. it was a very exciting time in my life that i like to mull over on late nights such as this one.

boss: so, did donna dress up for halloween?

cow-orker: yes she did! she came as a witch!

boss: err... how did you know?

cow-orker: hmm. well, she was wearing a HAT!

boss: that's true, donna doesn't normally wear hats...

Misunderstood
or
Why my mother will never enjoy a tuna fish sandwich in my home.

mom decides that she wants a tuna sandwich. she puts her head into the fridge for a few minutes, pokes her head back out and asks if my husband and i have onions.

"no, mom, i do not. and after living with me for nearly 20 years, you should know that the most constant thing about me, one of the few things i have never wavered on is that i do NOT like ONIONS," i say.

maybe that sounds a little bitter, but you have to picture a most of a lifetime spent segregating onion from sauces, pizzas, salads and damn near everything that has an onion in it. little plates taken up nearly nightly with a small, neat stack of onions. the protests of "why do we have to get onions on the pizza? i hate onions." 20 years of ordering things with "no onions." you'd think she would've gotten the hint.

mom responds "not even for flavor?"

"well, the onions didn't steal my boyfriend or say something to hurt my feelings. it's pretty much the flavor of an onion that offends me."

now, we're people of the world here, i know that parents are busy with their own lives and can't know everything about their progeny, but i felt like i'd covered the onion thing quite thoroughly. it's not like the mustard epiphany of '79 where in a woolworths after being served a hot dog with mustard i tasted it, asked her what it was, and then announced loudly that i did not care for mustard. i simply do not remember a time when onions were considered acceptable on my plate.

i'm also an only child. there weren't a bunch of other kids running around the house proclaiming their likes and dislikes. and really, compared to many other children i've observed, i wasn't a super-picky eater. i liked what i like and while today i cannot fathom the attraction of bologna and cheese, i'm here to tell you today that if you'd served that with onions i wasn't going to eat it.

i don't like onions. i never liked onions. and if the preceding 28 years are any indication, i'm just never going to like onions. and i don't tend to buy things to keep in my fridge that i don't like. that's just me. i'm crazy with the only buying food i'm likely to eat.

mom ducks her head in again.

"hey," mom says, "there's no mayo in here!"

"well... i don't like mayo..." i reply.

"you don't even have it in here just to have?" she asks.

"no. see, if *i'm* not going to eat it, and *ryan* is not going to eat it, it pretty much seemed like a good idea not to buy it only to watch it spoil," i answer.

"but what about for guests?"

see, and this is a point with some items. like sugar. people are likely to have tea or coffee in my home. i, being hypoglycemic, cannot have sugar. however others can and often do. but it has yet to come up that a guest was disappointed with my lack of mayo, or onions for that matter. i suppose from now on i'll have to put on party invites "byom or byoo"

if the basis for communication with society is your ability to communicate with your family, i am so screwed.

"honey, there's no celery in here..."

"it gives me the trots."

"oh, well, then i guess you don't want that..."

...

if the basis for human communication is established by your ability to relate to your family, i am so screwed.

"i have to order rugs over the interent"

"i feel like the pages are moving around me

"i feel like the pages are moving around me"

"like when im driving down a lonellly road alone

"ya want a better one?"

"better story i mean... it's not nearly as, uhm, "boring"

hmm... i dunno... does it involve sex?

"i wish!!! "well there's sex, but not the fantastic, hot, break-all-the-rules sex"

now that the house is quiet

and ryan is asleep

and no one can hear

only then

do i play paula abdul

i'll be leaving for SF in one week. provided i don't spaz and chicken out of getting on a plane. but i dunno. rationally i know that life is uncertain and no one really knows what the future holds. and in fact, perhaps if i stay home i'll end up smashed to bits on the freeway. that's life. wear a helmet, there's no redos.

but i'm still a big chicken.

sometimes i wonder about things in movies. like... in the friday the 13th films. what if the girl is faking it? all of that noise. who is she kidding? "oh baby, oh baby, you're the best...umm... unnnng..." so there you are, faking it so that this clumsy teenaged oaf will finish up and you can get on with your walking around in the dark asking where everyone is... and then BAM* you've got a pole through your body. that's really gotta suck.

on a related note, i hate camping.

* TM emeril, all rights reserved, BAM used as parody, emeril does not endorse nor condone nor is he even aware of this post

RSVP me in the negative.

are you sure?
quite

so as i go over the list of attendees, i see names of people that i cared about, that presumably cared about me. all of us such self-involved assholes that we have not kept up with one another lo these 10 sad years since the days where wearing the biggest cowbell meant something positive. although, in light of the eating disorders so prevalent amongst teens... cowbells?

but anyways. it's the 10 year reunion for me. something i've been alternately looking forward to and dreading for... well, i guess 10 years. any longer than that would be unlikely, and worse, pathetic.

like a modern slender santa claus i went through my naughty and nice list trying to figure out not so much who was nice or naughty to me, but who just didn't make me feel bored and tired all the time. i saw one or 2 names on the guestlist of people that i liked enough to stand through a party with. i have to constantly focus myself on ohw weird everyone thought i was because i was weird. weirdly acting out because i was bored.

must remember the 80s horror movies i'd watch rather than go to parties i was invited to that i knew would be too soon broken up by the police, i'd have to run away and likely drive very drunk people home. at least at home the police didn't bust in and at the worst i might have to drag a drunken parent over to a couch.

this sounds bitter again, doesn't it? it's not. i just think that since i'm a busy person, i have to look carefully at what engagements i send myself to, and i think my time would be better spent taking photos and opening galleries. sure, these things are put off-able for the most part, but... meh.

i want to live
in the halfnote sung by neil finn
to be dessimated underground
at the bottom of the note
where breathe gives
is where i am
where my tears spill
lungs beg for air.
go
i'll be waiting when you call
on the bunkbed where i saw you
where we were at peace.
i fall at your feet

the drugs don't work

All this talk of getting old
It's getting me down my love
Like a cat in a bag, waiting to drown
This time I'm comin' down

And I hope you're thinking of me
As you lay down on your side
Now the drugs don't work
They just make you worse
But I know I'll see your face again

the verve

the library

so my friend hears that there is a lonely copy of madonna's SEX book laying around the houston public library. i don't know where gets this notion. i find it curious, but well, hey, i'm all for looking at smutty photos, what do i care, right?

but this is the idea for the evening and we persue it with gusto. at the first houston library branch we can find, we get ourselves a parking spot and head into the crowded library looking for SEX wherever we can find it. after a disappointing bout of trying to sort things out with an antiquated computer system, we try out luck with dewey's decimal system. there seems to be no SEX on the shelves.

i quickly tire of looking for SEX at the library but my friend will not be so quickly dissuaded. he wants SEX and he knows that SEX can be found at the library, damnit. he approaches an older librarian, someone with experience who is good at finding things. if anyone can find SEX in this library, this librarian can.

he tells her that he is looking for SEX. she heads for the computer. he clarifies that he is looking for madonna's SEX. but i think she knew what he was talking about before that. she, mistress of the antiquated machinery, announces to us, and anyone else within listening distance, "well, we have madonna's 'like a virgin' but you don't want 'like a virgin,' do you? no no no no no, you want SEX, you want MADONNA'S SEX!"

it was at the main branch.

surgery on dime water table?

*ring*
*ring*
"hello?"
"sergiofromtimewarnercable"
"what?"
"sergiofromtimewarnercable"
"excuse me?"
"sergiofromtimewarnercable"
"surgery on dime water table?"
"SERGIO.... FROM.... TIME.... WARNER.... CABLE...."
"oh. I don't want to talk to you!"
*click*

the freshening

can i get something off my chest here?
i really like old prince, you know, back when he was called prince and not The Artist
also. i hate people
as of september 1, it will be a felony to harm an animal
i do not speak french
i think i really do want to make a movie now
i'm really ready to do it now
a movie about fun at parties
then maybe a couple of others
then when my name is up there and i'm getting praised at cannes
i want to start making porn

i hate people. but i won't hold your peopleness against you
it's harder to get out of porn than to get into it
i am no longer a people
i've decided that i'm a cat
and as such
harming me
will be a felony
also, i need a new litterbox

but now that i'm not a people, i'm not filled with that self-loathing that was so 80s
there was self-loathing in the 90s, but it was very 80s to do it
now when you self-loathe, it's 80s, which is cool, because then you're being "retro" instead of merely uncool
which makes it cool now
but i don't need to be cool. i need to be able to have a reason to lick my genetalia in public

you're living in a fantasy

it's hard to put my finger on what i feel right now. dizzy, nauseated, feverish. some mysterious affliction trapping me into sporadic moments of being able to do something useful. keeping my mind trapped in this serious battle that i have with my own body.

no, it's not that sad little twit battle that most women have with their own bodies. "i hate myself, i'm not a size 2." fuck that shit. go eat a tapeworm. give up your twiddling little life and go live in an area where survival is key. where you can lose all of the weight you want due to dysentary. but that all sounds bitter, doesn't it?

i guess i'm just angry with my body. we have an adversarial relationship as i believe that it holds me back from doing what i need to do with it's petty weaknesses. its flu-getting. its low-blood sugaring. if evolution is to be believed, then shouldn't i have progressed past some of this stupidity by now? *sighs* no, i guess not. but i often think that in caveman days i would've been burned at the stake or at the very least left out on a rock to die by now.

in the midst of these spells where womanly cramps hit in waves on top of the nausea from low bloodsugaring along with the brain bubbling of a fever, those fates sound... well... reasonable. good. productive. like for better or for worse, things would be settled. but i'm playing with myself. i know that's about as twiddling a concern as those wanting to be skinny. that doesn't diminish my own anger with my body, though.

i had a dream once where i was visited by time-traveling floating heads. they had come back in time to hold me personally responsible for their not being able to exist from a poor choice i'd made in my life. that natural human evolution would've been to finally do away with the body and for heads to levitate on their own brain power. that i'd chosen a life more based in carnality was robbing them of their own existance (i guess i'd made a different choice before? i don't know. it makes about as much sense as a spielberg movie, i understand that).

on reflection, i see that as my own fantasy of escaping this prison of my own body... becoming a being without such shuddering bouts of pain.

The Confession

i've made spam
i've made web banners
i am the mistress of all that is truely bad in this world
i even make flash banners
and popups
my parents keep asking "where did we go wrong?"

my cat proposed:
366666666666666666666666666666666666666666-+9999999999999./665

i answered:
55137844611528822040100250626.5669

How can I sleep when I know that somehow, somewhere, this is going on? http://www.bangedup.com/archives/WHAT.mpg

there first was a young boy named rich
who's parents thought donna was a bitch
sent rich to catholic school
so she drowned them in a pool
and left their bloated corpses in a ditch

psychocatblah: ben wants to know why you don't just fix a monkey
squeakzilla: fix a monkey? are they broken?
squeakzilla: or does he mean have one fixed so I can have unlimited monkey sex with it? That's just wrong, Ben. Seek help.
psychocatblah: i think he meant so it won't jack off so much
squeakzilla: I do not hitnk fixing it will help. I know men who have been fixed and they still spend far too much time spanking THEIR monkey.
psychocatblah: yeah! ryan's fixed and that monkey has it out all the time
squeakzilla: heheh
squeakzilla: see?
psychocatblah: how about a female monkey?
squeakzilla: 'sides, would ben want to be fixed? i think it's awfully cruel just to avoid a little spunk on the curtains.
squeakzilla: Hrm. I dunno... wonder if they are as prolific masterbaters
psychocatblah: ben wonders why , if monkeys are as smart as they're suppsoed to be (with the use of tools), we haven't been finding dildo-shaped toys in the woods
squeakzilla: he should watch an ape exhibit for a while, and see what the females do with any sticks that may have fallen out of trees and look at the corners on the ground level of monkey bars. They have found them. :-)

no friendly remedy
in my soup
to whisper sedative words
or incite sedition
goodbye withdrawal
hello anxiety

there once was a girl from spring, texas
who did away with all her exes
she made quite a scene
with her killing spree
she won't be 'round long to vex us

psychocatblah: you like my poem about working at weiners?
fortyMB: oops...I didn't realize it was a poem :-)
fortyMB: it doesn't rhyme
fortyMB: no rhyme = no poem
psychocatblah: well, it wasn't really a poem
psychocatblah: it just looks like one
psychocatblah: maybe someday when i'm particularly bored i'll write a dirty limerick about working at weiners
fortyMB: yeah..you could do something with the fact that weiners is slang for dick
fortyMB: :-)
psychocatblah: richard?
fortyMB: no, wayne
fortyMB: remember?
psychocatblah: dick = richard
fortyMB: not all of them
psychocatblah: one of my boyfriends called his penis "little richard"
fortyMB: he was gay
psychocatblah: in retrospect, that was pretty strange
psychocatblah: no, he wasn't the gay one
fortyMB: no little richard is gay
psychocatblah: at least... not while i was dating him
fortyMB: dick van dyke is a weird name
psychocatblah: what does van mean?
psychocatblah: of the?
psychocatblah: dick of the dyke
psychocatblah: or is it "from"?
fortyMB: well..you drive vans...
psychocatblah: dick from the dyke
psychocatblah: dick of dyke
fortyMB: dykalicious dick
psychocatblah: i think i'm thinking of "von"
fortyMB: yeah...van just means van
fortyMB: von means "ant killer"
psychocatblah: Main Entry: 2van
Function: noun
Etymology: by shortening
Date: 1610
psychocatblah: dick shorted by dyke
fortyMB: etymology isn't the definition!
psychocatblah: b : a multipurpose enclosed motor vehicle having a boxlike shape, rear or side doors, and side panels often with windows
psychocatblah: i want to see THAT dyke
fortyMB: it's like one of those russian dolls...
fortyMB: box shaped dyke w/ box...etc
fortyMB: it's the side panels I'm especially worried about tho
psychocatblah: i wonder what the Etymology for Etymology is

i don't really like whining.
i like doing.
sometimes i like whining if i can't do anything.
but i think i can do something.
so i don't want to whine.

We are the mirrors of each other
In a lifetime of suspicion
Cleansed in a moment, a flash of recognition
You gave your life for it
Worth its weight in gold and growing empires
Art collectors and Alans sound investments
Will one day be forgotten, one day be forgotten

from "Whispers and Moans" by Neil Finn

just before my husband and i got married, while i was still living alone in houston, i made a late-night trip to k-mart to pick up a few things that i needed for valentine's day.

well, you know how it is in those sorts of stores. you look around and you start to remember things that you really kinda needed and sometimes there's a sale on something and you just think "wow. gotta have that."

so, i went in for silk boxers, a stuffed toy of some sort and some chocolates - you know, standard v-day fare. i found some bright red boxers, a black teddy bear and a bag of dove chocolates. while i was wandering around collecting these items i remembered that i was almost out of trash bags. 50 count. great.

oh yeah, the teacup my fiance likes got knocked over by the cat. industrial strength glue will do the trick. into the basket.

wow! this knife's on sale for 99 cents. and it's a big chef's knife. i don't have one of those. of course, i hardly ever cook, but it's really cheap and you never know, really...

oooh, ice trays. i don't usually drink water with ice, but the Man seems to like it. i'll pick up a few of those.

finally, i get to the check out. the lady is friendly. gives me a happy hello that i think is maybe a tad too happy for 1 am. but, whatever. maybe she's caffinated to be up at this hour. not everyone's a natural insomniac.

she starts grabbing and scanning my stuff. black teddy bear meep! dove chocolates meep! trash bags meep! large knife meep! red silk boxers meep! industrial glue meep! ice cubes meep!

the lady is no longer looking at me. purposefully avoiding eye contact. i throw in a pack of gum (did i offend?) she tells me my total, looks down at my stuff a final time and then back up at me. i think "oh, she must be wondering why a woman would be buying boxers."

"valentinte's day!" i say with a happy smile. this seems to deepen her concern. whatever. freaky check out person.

it isn't until i get into my car and think about the interesting potential my assortment of items has that i begin to grasp her anxiety.

"To remind them they're men, make sure to embed a batch of wriggling, erect weiners in a sea of beans."
http://www.lileks.com/institute/gallery/10PM/index4.html

i used to work at weiners

*i* was in *customer service* there

you service weiners well?

no, i was never very good at weiners.

mostly i just hung around staring listlessly at the ceiling

well, it's better now that weiners is not my job

i was never very happy with weiners

and i think weiners knew that i was unhappy

i didn't last long at all

drit says, "hmm... do I have a strange or unusual sotry to tell? jerry wants to know."

fuck happy says, "i have lots of strange and unusual stories to tell"

fuck happy says, "although, no one's likely to throw a chair at anyone over my stories"

fuck happy says, "but they might cause people to want to hide under chairs"

fuck happy says, "is that as good?"

fuck happy says, "how about the controversial story about how my mom approves of me being a pornographer?"

drit says, "Springer Cam"

fuck happy says, "or how about this strange and unusual story?"

fuck happy says, ""girl gets bloated and breaks out monthly""

fuck happy says, "girl bleeds 5-7 days and DOES NOT DIE"

drit says, "mmm... best friend and girlfriend BUSTED"

fuck happy says, "thank you, thank you folks! i'm performing this trick monthly"

fuck happy says, "the june act is never the same as the july"

fuck happy says, "come on back"

drit says, "when's the next show, Donna?"

fuck happy says, "according to my calculations... by friday"

drit says, "let me know. I wanna see."

fuck happy says, "you can buy a ticket just like everyone else"

drit says, "hehe... tomorrow: audience member disses Jerry's shoes."

back in the day

i think that in a lot of ways i am still a lot like i was in high school. not as self conscious, naturally. the depression is manifesting itself in anxiety rather than actually wanting to die. i'm a lot less bored, but as a person, in general, i'm still rebellious, naughty, goofy and all around just absorbed in being me.

lately i found out that one of my best friends from high school, someone whom i admired greatly is mormon now. this is a man that when i looked down or troubled would drag me into one of the band practice rooms to tell me dirty jokes. who, on my birthday, brought me a bouquet of tulips, and when i took them from him he said "what's better than roses on your piano?" and when i gave him my play-exasperated look said "tulips on your organ" (that's an auditory joke)

we were both on the drum line and one time while we were in the stands he asked me "spit or swallow?" i was in the middle of another conversation that i was very interested in, so i wasn't really paying much attention to him. i ignored him while he pestered me. finally, still not quite getting what he was asking me i turned around and said "spitting is rude!" i realized what i had said too late. i turned back around slowly. the drumline was entirely too quiet behind me. suddenly, in the middle of a football game, this man started an acapella chorus of "donna swallows."

to know me and my perverse sense of humor is to know that while some people would be telling these stories to their therapist in shuddering agony, i thought it all was highly amusing. sure, i was a little embarassed at the football game. but the game that he and i played was him telling me these jokes, being silly and perverse and me trying not to burst out laughing, but trying to act like it was all terribly borning to me. a game of cat and mouse that gave me something to look forward to during otherwise tedious days of instructors trying to impart knowledge into my apathetic mind.

when i knew him, the subject of god was settled. he was an athiest as far as i knew. although admittedly, it is hard to say. the subject of god about never came up between the two of us. it is so difficult for me to reconcile this person that i knew and adored so much to this new life. i know that i should just be happy that he's happy, but damnit, i hate when smart people turn to the lord.

i remember on one of our few "official dates" we went to a friend's birthday party where we ended up playing with an ouija board. i'm a natural-born cynic. i didn't care much for the game but i offered up questions to ask it here and there. but my good friend and date for the night asked the ouija board if i would end up being a porn star. it came back with a resounding "yes." well, i'm not really a porn star, but i have been known to make some porn. too bad i didn't ask if he'd end up being a mormon. perhaps then i'd have something to believe in.

two paths diverged in a wood, as robert frost once said....

wAyNeR: (2:36 AM) with what?
blah: (2:37 AM) there's talk of carrying weapons
blah: (2:37 AM) weapons on cows with windows for stomachs
wAyNeR: (2:38 AM) so it has 4 windows?
blah: (2:39 AM) i guess. no one is giving me an answer as to who cleans the windows
blah: (2:39 AM) someone was wondering where he could conceal his .357. i offered that there's plenty of room in his pants.
blah: (2:40 AM) he says it's cold. so i told him to buy a gun warmer
wAyNeR: (2:40 AM) i feel like you are at a party and trying to describe it to your friend who is stuck in a traffic jam.
blah: (2:40 AM) i feel like we have another post here
wAyNeR: (2:41 AM) I think your druggs must be enhancing your experience...everything is postable now.
blah: (2:42 AM) it makes everything interesting. every moment precious.
wAyNeR: (2:43 AM) oh god....please don't make a figurine out of me!!!!!!!
blah: (2:44 AM) i was going to put you on top of the wedding cake
wAyNeR: (2:46 AM) that would either:
1. be a very inedible cake
or
2. be a very flat cake.
lah: (2:46 AM) not if you were a figurine
wAyNeR: (2:47 AM) I wonder if they make Real Figurines....that would be weird.
blah: (2:47 AM) do you ever just feel like you're made out of flannel?
blah: (2:47 AM) odd reception, fun honey moon
wAyNeR: (2:47 AM) only on those rare occasions when I actually am.
wAyNeR: (2:48 AM) haha....pr0n0 music is now playing in my head....
blah: (2:48 AM) i feel like my skin is flannel rubbing on my cotton pants
blah: (2:49 AM) how did that happen?
wAyNeR: (2:49 AM) It's spring time I guess.
blah: (2:49 AM) spring time brings the porn music?
wAyNeR: (2:50 AM) don't you hear it whistling in the trees.
blah: (2:51 AM) i think my stereo is on too loud
wAyNeR: (2:51 AM) ok...night.
blah: (2:51 AM) night night

Dear Charlotte,

Thank you for your letter. All of us-- the elves, the reindeer and I-- have rested up from our Christmas Eve flight. It sure was fun! We had a pretty smooth trip except for some bumpy weather flying over Europe, but Rudolph guided the sleigh perfectly.

The elves were very excited to fly with me. And I even let some of them help me deliver presents! Rock Tock was especially helpful, and Little Hand was great, too. (He's so small that sometimes he'd get down the chimneys even before me)!

After we delivered the last presents, I let each of the elves fly the sleigh for a while on the way home. Jiffy is probably the best pilot of them all.

On New Years day, Mrs. Claus and Scurry made a big dinner and we all celebrated the New Year by going outside and having a big snowball fight! You should have seen all the snowballs in the air!

Later, to warm up, we had hot cocoa with marshmallows in it, and I read a few stories to the elves before we headed off to bed. It was a pretty nice holiday for all of us here at the North Pole. I hope you and your family had fun, too. Be good and I'll talk to you soon.

Your friend at the North Pole,
Santa

this is my ass and you will like it

because i say so. and that's the way it is going to be. i'm tired of feeling like it is too big. it is not too big, it is my ass and it is on me and therefore it is perfect for me.

too many people are uncomfortable with their asses. i was one of them. someone offered me cash money to model for them. i'm really more of a photographer than a model, but instead of relaying that information to this person, i responded with "have you seen my ASS?!?"

but i think it's time i embraced my ass (although, i'm not sure how to go about that, exactly). be one with my assness.

everyone, instead of having a veg out, or a day to throw pubic hair at the president, vow this very day to show your ass some love and enjoy that it keeps you in your seat and follows you everywhere you go.

it is your ass, and you will love it.

gothcon

"i only love you when i'm down, and I'm only near you when I'm gone" - chris cornell

seems like i only write when I'm down, so i figured i'd write a bit when i was feeling naked and clueless (which is feeling good).

i just got back from gothcon in new orleans and had a smashing time. not literally, i did not smash anything to my knowledge. my cat is looking pissy at me, so I'd better keep this short so i can go back to petting her.

anyway, i was there with my goth babe husband, violet chartreuse and the ever-gracious luna of caveat emptor, a fine period costume shop in new Orleans on magazine street (if you do not visit her when you are in town you are only hurting yourself!).

as if that company was not enough to keep a girl in wild bliss for days on end, i met many fabulous people, fabulous artists and fabulous musicians (no one there was mediocre, i swear! oh, maybe there was, but i can't remember them anyway.)

i sat next to michelle of carpe mortem and bought a couple of cd's from some wonderful bands gossamer and stare... and had much fun listening to them in my room. i met several people from starvox and talked to them about some of MY favorite bands and people, the machine in the garden and numeralia.

i also met micah, who is the web spinstress of gothboyoftheweek.com, of which a few of my lovely boys are alumnus of. much time was spent flirting with the ubiquitous Frank of thirteen13, whom i later photographed promo and live concert photos of.

there was more live music than you could shake a stick at (if shaking sticks at music is what you do) and i shot not only thirteen13, but neurepublik, who are a really great electro-industrial band. so also watch for their photos and mp3's to show up on one or more of my stations (thirteen13 is already there).

many new photos will be added to my self portraits with famous people as i shot photos of myself with lisa from black tape for a blue girl, bella morte, vampire nation, fashion batty and voltaire ( i think that's it, i'll have to see!). as you can see, it was a great turn out of people (famous and not) who all made the con extremely interesting.

I'd also like to give special mention to satansworkshop.com who have finely crafted whips and where i bought my newest and possibly most treasured whip: the barbie whip which is made with strips of pink and purple leather and has a barbie head on the handle. There was one last flogger that I'd intended to buy there, but i simply ran out of cash!

anyway, that's all i can think of now. I'll return to being gloomy after a few days, I'm sure!

:disconnect

don't want to think too much
it makes me think too much
it keeps my mind on my mind

don't want to see too much
it makes me see too much
sometimes i'd rather be blind

all the things that they're saying and doing
when they pass me by, it just fills me up with noise
it overloads me
i want to disconnect myself
pull my brain stem out and unplug myself
i want nothin' right now

i want to pull it out

too damn bad if at the end of the day
the only thoughts in your brain
are all the things that they say
what a waste
too damn bad if at the end of the line
you have no idea what's on your own mind
you got no one to blame but yourself

Henry Rollins, The Rollins Band

my haunches hurt. i've been wearing a bra all day and where the fuck are my parents?!?

Face it.

my dreams are well known, famous even, for kicking my ass this way and that. trying to pull attrition from me. for what? my high school experience?

maybe it just wants closure. who knows. the other night i had one of the truly oddest dreams i've had in a while....

i was living in a commune/island sort of place with some friends that i get a long really well with... Belen, one of my models you may recognize. she's one of my favorite people that i don't spend enough time with that is moving in the vicinity of seattle at the end of the month.

i guess in the dream we moved with her. we were sharing a rather large, but very open area. all of our beds were in the same room. but food was made and dishes were done and really, there wasn't a whole lot of roommate BS going on.

then new people were moving next door and amongst that group was an ex boyfriend that ended the live-in relationship by packing all of his stuff up and leaving while i was at work. it was truly one of the worst nights of my life... and i don't think i've ever forgiven him for it.

sure, for breaking up... i mean... how many relationships last forever. just the chicken shit way he did it. i'm full of resentment for that. i had no time or plans that i cold change at that moment. i had to just go forth with moving into downtown houston afraid and alone.

anyway, back to the dream... i didn't say anything to him for a long while. when he asked me direct questions, i answered, but i wouldn't look him right in the eyes.

Belen, finding that all was not right in my world, came to me to find out what was bothering me. I told her about the stupid relationship and how horribly it ended. she promised to talk to him and get him to move out.

she talked to him, but he didn't want to move out. Then i told my husband about it. my husband wanted to beat him up, but i told him that belen had talked to him and that i didn't think there was anything we could do about it.

ultimately, no decision was made. i was just left to sort it out for myself. i think most times that's how it goes. you just have to sort it out on your own.

last one standing

a stand off
not a game i wanted to play
here we are on this fateful day.

do you love me?
will it be us forever against?
will it be her? the one gazing a mess

what do i need?
i need you what i always need
how can you be there for me

when all i want is to be with you?
i've heard enough so i cry
i've felt enough watch me lie
i just want to leave this space
live in another place

no where to go
no where to hide.
your face follows me.
what could've been runs me down the street, sucks my soul, loses my breath

i convulse, but what can i do? i did the right thing. how did we both get hurt? i did it all the way i was supposed to. why did it hurt everyone?

who is the last one standing. did the fight ever actually start? who started it?

am i playing with myself? playing with an imaginary world where you cared?

but you did care, didn't you? in your own way. and now your ghost, that idealistic boy... the man that wanted to defend me is gone. and i am left with memories. dark circles and crows feet for the time we spent together. for the last one standing.

Joy and Charity

i participate in charities. i think that i figure that since i'm not planning on producing children, and thus have more disposable income, that i would like to put something positive into the world.

i'm not trying to be superior to anyone, or show anyone up... i just feel a great conviction that part of my personal purpose in the world is to try in my own way to make things better for others. try to leave things just a little nicer, a little cleaner than when i found them.

there's plenty of people looking out just for themselves... and in my own way, that's what i'm doing. following my own convictions for my own purpose. because that's the person i like being.

i feel bad when people suspect my motives, or get competitive with me on giving amounts. competition is something that i don't like to do very much. i much prefer to do what's good for me, what i want to do.

Dark Passages

this morning i was pondering my early childhood. i was kidnapped twice as a young child. no parental disputes or anything. i wasn't even a particularly cute child, just in the wrong place at the wrong time. a lot.

the first time is the one i don't have any recollection of. i guess this comes to mind because of my recent use of ambien which leads me to some short term memory problems, pretty much just things get fuzzy just before i get to bed. i don't do anything tragic... funny, sure, but nothing really beyond forgetting to brush my teeth.

but i was thinking of things that i didn't remember... like when i was kidnapped when i was two. i don't remember this at all. how much does anyone remember about being two? but then i thought about all the people going through hypnotherapy to regain memories of their uncles abusing them or fathers raping them. i guess it's good to know, but i have absolutely no desire to remember what happened on those few days when i was two.

i think that perhaps having been down so many dark passages that i do remember, i don't even want to know what is down that hallway. as i get older, i start thinking that ignorance really is bliss. the age of my wanting to fight dragons is waning and i find myself just wanting some peace. some quiet.

i back away from people that are full of drama. i help people from an arm's length away.

i'm tired. so tired. i don't want to look for trouble.

i figure if tribulation makes you a better person, then i'm happy with who i am. and mostly, i am. that which i wish to change about myself i'm working on. i love my yoga practice. i love my tension tamer tea and my fish. i love my husband and our beautiful home and two cats.

what would knowing what happened when i was two do for me?

there is a stong dislike of people that i'm building... but not just any random people. the people that either know what they want and are too lazy to do it, or those that just don't know what they want. if that doesn't cover the whole of the population, add to that that i don't like people that just go with the flow because they can't even make up their mind to change what they're doing.

i get unhappy, sure, i whine. but eventually i pull it together and go after what i want. just because i stubbed my toe doesn't mean that i'm not finishing the race. it's just my toe, right?

i think that at this advanced age i've seen and been a party to some of the shittiest things people can do to one another. and that might not be such a tragedy to my view if it was for a purpose. and not that "my daddy spanked me" crap. humanity has survived far worse than a little hiney whuppin.

in fact, instead of looking at all that you lost, think of what strength you gained by not repeating mistakes that were made at you. remember the golden rule? it doesn't say "treat others how they treat you" it says "treat others as you would be treated"

i try to do that as much as i can. i think it's nice, a good way to have a general standoff of people being at least pleasant to one another without dragging god down to start throwing people into pits of fire. "be good for goodness sake"

here i am, making my art... working my bliss... and there's a kazillion other people doing what they don't want to do and they're bitter. they want to blow up on me because of choices they made with their lives. i could still be in my small town. i could be designing flowers. i could be selling pizzas. but i made choices, decisions, often very difficult decisions to get where i am now.

now i don't sleep much. i work constantly. i see my name here and there. a few people recognise me or think i'm special or that they should know me. i'm interested to see what this will turn into. i'm naturally suspicious. always minding my boarders.

is this bad? "there's always piranahs, watch out for piranahs." i don't know... i'm feeling a stressed melancholy. like a late night at a party where you know you're supposed to be having fun, but you keep drinking because the party isn't what you thought it was going to be. you don't really know the people, and you don't really want to get to know them. they're just these people. replicants. people that you see at parties but never talk to. don't want to talk to. modern social vampires?

but i digress...i feel like the drunken hostess greeting people to my party, but who isn't otherwise terribly involved. maybe that's what i've been wanting. i don't know. i'm not complaining, exactly... it's just strange to me that by moving to a new room, i found more people to dislike. maybe i'm just getting old and cranky.

i don't even know where to begin. so many dreams have passed now. i'm recently enthralled with strange things... gravity is my new hero. you can't doubt gravity, you can't debate it, it's there, like it or not.

i like it. it's one of the few tangible things that i feel really good about, too. i mean, gravity doesn't really have an agenda... it's just there. being gravity. not caring one bit what you think about it. or if you think about it. gravity is cool that way.

this is a new theme. much more absolute than my balance-seeking. although, yoga, if it has taught me nothing else, it's that i don't have a very natural center of balance. which is why i guess i have to seek it rather than maintain it.

but i don't have trouble maintaining gravity. nice gravity, sweet gravity.

another thing i'm thinking about a lot is this idea of being a predator. i'd initially thought of writing a "journal" of what i would be like, what it would be like to be a killer of some flavor. i even outlined some ideas i had. i may still do it... i don't know. i'm very caught up in the photography right now.

i think i'd like to make some room in my schedule to write. write fiction, of course. i'm not terribly great at fact-based reporting stuff. you can ask any of my journalism teachers in college. there was just no beating my own slant or style out of my writing. and maybe that's as it should be. what fun are facts sans slant, right? isn't that part of what makes salon.com so popular?

anyway, i'm off my predator idea. that's ok, i guess. this isn't really about being perfectly readable, just a peek into my mind, if you're not already freaked out by the photos :D which aren't really freaky, but there you go.

i think as a woman, it's ingrained in me to be afraid. afraid of wild bands of men prowling the streets looking for someone to rob/rape/maim/murder in whatever order that may be in. it would be interesting to go into the world knowing that YOU are the world's biggest fear.

of course, i don't think it's in me to murder someone, even if there's a good case for their extinction. not so much because of the person themselves, but because of the possibly generally good people that will mourn them. few people go out of their way to raise the perfect killer. few people look forward to the day their progeny goes into the world and kills others, or does something destructive.

heh... few parents probably are very happy to have their children turn into smut peddlers. but that's life. things happen.

but to just not care... i'm not sure if it would be hard or bliss. it's an idea i'm playing with. maybe after all of the balance, i want some absolutes. who knows. brains are strange things.

crap. i forgot what i was doing.

i'm not having children. i'm just not.

i think part of the reason why this is such a touchy subject for people is because it has been made the social agenda. it's what you *should* do. it's what normal people do.

when someone bugs me about it, they get the first response of "thank you for sharing your opinion with me. i do not agree." the second "you can believe that i'm going to breed some day if that helps you sleep through the night." and the third "you know what, you can just fuck right on off. it's my life and you can deal with the pathetic mess your life has become." (of course, i always assume that someone who's bugging me that much about my life and my choices must have a pretty sucky life :D)

and there is pressure. my mom gets all teary eyed at the prospect of her only daughter not breeding...that *she* is going to miss out on the experience of being a grandmother. hey... i'm not the one who told her to only have one kid.

from my perspective, the meanest trick you can ever play on anyone is giving them life. making them sentient. i love the person i've become, but that was a hard fucking road to get to this. and i don't think that my conscience would survive bringing someone that i presumably love into this fuckfest.

and i didn't even have the most tragic life. there are so many horrible things that can happen to a person. and to think that i brought them here? to experience the utter crap life can be? i can't live with that. i just can't.

i consider myself a very spiritual and enlightened person, and it didn't take growing a parasite inside me to do it, either. do you know what having a baby does to a woman's body? a good number of my friends that have had children are now diabetic. these were healthy, athletic women.

on top of all of that, while i may have some smart genes, i have a lot of genetically transmitted health problems like anemia, diabetes, cancer, high blood pressure, ulcers, cataracts, muscular dystrophy, mental illness/retardation, etc. not to mention bad skin and vision problems. and german thighs. i've said many times that if we were living in caveman times, i would've been left out on a cliff to die of exposure a LONG time ago.

all of these things are reasons i don't want to have a child. it's not about crappy movies, or reading more books. it could be argued that i can spend more time on my art, but that doesn't factor in really.

i like children, but i'm content to be cool aunt donna who pitches in to help tired parents now and then. i just wish more tired parents didn't feel compelled to tell me i'm wrong. i don't bash them for their choices. it's just not the choice i'm making.

to dream of men

I have no big story here. No big rant or anything. I just feel like rambling.

I think that I'm going to dub this month "COCKTOBER" and dedicate the month to the male form. And then my husband belches and I remember that boys smell funny.

Every few days, or every month or week or whatever there's people or dreams of people that inspire me and I write. For the last few months or so it has been David Duchovny. But for the last story I wrote for my site "Hero" I was inspired by a dream I had about David Boreanaz and my husband.

No, it wasn't a dream like *that* It just started out with a vampire that was like Boreanaz from his series "Angel" and then it turned into my husband. The storyline in the dream isn't at all like what I dreamed, but dreams are rarely coherent, so I just made a story out of what I remembered.

I've also had anime on the brain a lot. Sometimes I dream about Ryan and me as anime characters. Yes, sometimes I dream in cartoon.

i think i just have a lot going on in my mind. a lot rattling around in my brain. i want to write more, but i just lack the time. my dreams want to escape and be read, but i'm just sluggish about sitting aroud and writing it all out.

that's all i really have to say for now. except that i'd love to take pictures of duchovny and boreanaz, so if you know them or you are them, email me *laughs* you don't have to be naked...

rescuing kittens

i was rescuing kittens from some evil thing. i'm not sure what the evil thing was, but it was causing storms and we were by the beach and the waves were trying to steal away my kitties. we didn't have a boat or a car or anything so i was just running. sometimes my husband was there, sometimes i was alone.

after a while i got away from the storm, but i had 3 kittens in my hands and they were squiggling and squirming as kitties do. i got hungry and as i was walking along this long, dusty dirt road, there was a k-mart sort of store. i went in and realized that i didn't really have any money, and suddenly also realized that i had another cat, and this cat was a siamese.

at this point i noticed that i had 2 black cats, 1 tabby and 1 siamese. the lady working at the counter of the k-mart was very nice and gave me a backpack to keep the kittens in, so i could look around with my hands free. she really liked my tabby kitten and wanted to keep it. i told her about the evil and the waves and all of that and she still wanted it, so i let her keep it. then i was back to 3 kitties.

she was going to let me have whatever food i wanted too, but i woke up. on a side note, i have 2 cats, a black one and a siamese. they don't really get along right now. i'm guessing this dream was going on while my hubby was taking a shower and was in and out of the room and the cats were probably squiggling and following him around. strange how that works, huh?

the guy from high school

this dream is a semi-recurring dream about this guy in high school that i was... well, i don't feel it's right to say in love with, because love is a two-way street and this... was... i don't know, a tangled mess of unmarked highways that went in loops where you never really knew where you were even if you were the one who built the roads and all of the traffic lights blinked purple.

i'm not even sure that makes sense, but anyone who's been there knows what i'm trying to say. it was one of those confusing high-school things where everyone involved is inexperienced and confused.

in the end, all i wanted was for this man to be happy. unfortunately, almost everything i actually did rant totally contrary to my goal and i've lost touch with this person. (when i hear this song, "Girl of Independant Means" by Ross Cooper i'm reminded of myself then for some reason) the last i heard about him was that he went on a mormon mission to new zealand or somewhere like that. for perspective... when i knew him he was an athiest.

anyway, always in the back of my mind is this subconsious worry about him. this nagging "god i hope he's OK." to go on this mormon mission he evidently had to abandon all of these great scholarships that he had to go to college. i worry that he's trapped in some low-paying job with 6 kids to support. but as long as he's happy...

on to the dream now. enough painful recollection.

this is the second dream i've had of this sort of theme. the last time i had this dream was 3 or 4 years ago, although it ended differently. in this dream, i found that mike was working at the same place i was. we were both very happy to see each other, although he had found another employer that was interested in hiring him.

i was torn because i didn't want to lose touch with him again, i didn't want to give up my newfound everyday easy reach of him, but the new offer was a fairly good one. i told him that i didn't want him to leave. he assured me that we could still hang out. somehow i wasn't sure that i believed that, but i decided to put my personal feelings aside and look at this new offer. i suggested that he ask for more money because i thought the offer they gave him wasn't the best this other company could do (i actually do this sort of thing for my friends, check out job offers they get and give them impartial advice).

he was worried about asking for more money but he decided to do it. the subject dropped and we just hung out and talked about how stupid high school was and how stupid we were. we talked about how we still thought about each other. then he got a phone call. evidently his grandmother had died and had left him this neat old house in the middle of austin. so, we went to go check it out.

there's houses that i dream about, and i dream a lot about houses. i'm not sure what this means. there's a blueprint of the way houses are in my dreams and this one was very much like that. often there are hidden places to get to where i can hide or hang out or i just discover. these are features, not bugs usually. :D

the house was older and worn, but had beautiful and unusual antique furniture in it. the place had all the trappings of someone having lived there up until a few days before, with newspapers and magazines around and a fully-stocked fridge.

the house had evidently been well-maintained and in some parts refinished. we only encountered one part that wasn't completely stable. it was a balcony sort of structure that overlooked the living area. it was difficult to get to, sort of hidden. we assumed that was why it hadn't been fixed up.

after a while, his parents and a couple of friends came over to meet me and to see the house. there was a small door leading to an attic area off the unstable balcony. you had to be careful where you stepped to get there because the floor creaked and looked as if you might fall right through it. in the attic area were old toys, like older barbie dolls and things that were very interesting and could very well be valuable.

i was enjoying playing with the barbies, dressing them up and having fun with them in general when he asked me to move in with him. we talked about how we had feelings for each other and how he now had this house and that i wouldn't lose him to this new job especially if i moved in with him. i agreed to (in this dream i wasn't married as i am now).

suddenly, i became very afraid that he didn't love me. i don't know why. but i ran away. i ran down a darkened road crying. i got picked up by some people that ended up beating me very badly. nearly unrecognizable. he and some of his friends found me on the side of the road, bruised, broken, cold and bleeding. he wasn't angry with me for leaving, he was very upset at my condition, though. he brought me back to a hospital or a clinic or something and was holding my hand and looking at me with great concern and i woke up.

i awoke feeling very dazed, but feeling cared-for and loved. and wondering whatever happened to that boy i once knew so well.

david duchovny

sometimes i dream about david duchovny. nothing smutty or anything like that. well, ok, once, but that's not generally the way i dream about him. maybe someday when i feel like writing about that dream, i'll put it in the erotic section of this site :D

anyway, usually when i dream about him it is as if we are just old friends that haven't seen each other in a long while. we're always very happy to see each other and we generally just chat about things, give hugs and i wake up feeling really peaceful and happy, like i just had a visit with a really good friend that i don't see nearly enough.

in this dream i was visiting a chiropractor for my back pain. (i have a chiropractor, but this wasn't my usual doctor, i was out of town or something.) anyway, someone in the lobby gave me some strange salve for my knees to make them feel good. i don't have problems with me knees. but i put the stuff on anyway, just to see what it was like.

i went in and saw the doctor and he just gave me a massage. i was leaving the office thinking that it was very odd because i have a masseuse, the chiropractor is someone i see for a different reason... but as i was leaving, i saw david duchovny out there. suddenly i had my digital camera with me. i asked him if he'd mind if i took a few photos of him.

suddenly my husband was with me. david suggested that ryan take photos of me and duchovny together. ryan (my husband) does know how to take photos but for some reason he was having difficulty with the camera. duchovny stood behind me and put his arms around me from behind and i leaned back into him and purred for the camera.

ryan couldn't get it to work and was complaining about the lighting. i didn't mind him having trouble with the camera as i was enjoying being held by duchovny. i felt very comforted and warm and safe. ryan got a couple of shots off and then we changed positions to another embrace. again ryan had trouble. i nestled in and duchovny and i talked about things that i don't remember now. but it was very loving and safe.

i'm not sure why my dreams about duchovny are like that. even the sex dream wasn't just dirty, nasty sex (although there was that...). he was very sweet and brought flowers and we talked. for all i know he's a big jerk, but i prefer to think of him as the david duchovny in my dreams, loving, sweet, caring.