Life in School

I have now seen the worst people on Earth

2005-11-04T21:46:00.000-05:00

*WARNING* Link is highly offensive to anyone with any amount of tolerance.

Today, I found the kids in the 4th hour very pissed and passing around a piece of paper. I feel dirty fo even linking this site and giving it the possiblity of getting more hits.
*WARNING**VERY OFFENSIVE**
This flyer: http://www.godhatesfags.com/fliers/oct2005/20051020_week-748.pdf

I hate to say I went to their site. Again, offensive!
Their thoughts on 9/11/01 (pic)
Their Thoughts on Katrina(pic)
Their thoughts on the tsunami (pic)

Here's what the club and the school say about it. *Not offensive!*
I can understand the school and staff not wanting to make a big deal out of this like these shitbrains would like us to.

What was funny to me was this: even the kids that I knew picked on gays detest these guys. They seriously were ready to kick some ass on these morons, moreso than the GSA kids. Kids talking about doing drive-by paintballing (which I had to make sure that I said I didn't approve, despite my own desires). I told the kids that these guys have nothing better to do, and all they want us to do is fight with them and each other so they'll get more attention. I said, just like the annoying kid who interupts class, they're just being jerks to get attention, and nothing will piss them off more than being ignored.

I want to respect the wishes of the school and the students, but damn these guys piss me the fuck off.

Happiness

2005-10-18T07:06:00.000-04:00

Happiness is having a planning day.

Yeah, I LARP, but...

2005-10-16T17:48:00.000-04:00

Part of me says these guys look like extreme dips.

Part of me says this looks like a cool game.

I guess sanity is somewhere in between.

(I wonder if these guys regret letting this get out on the internet or not.)

LARPers gone wild

A fun little thing

2005-10-06T17:28:00.000-04:00

Swiped from my buddy Davin

Describe oneself with song titles by a favorite band/singer. I choose Dar Williams song titles:

1. Are you male or female?: College Girl
2. Describe yourself: As Cool As I Am
3. How do some people feel about you?: You're Aging Well
4. How do you feel about yourself?: Farewell To The Old Me
5. Describe your current or last girlfriend/boyfriend/interest: What Do You Love More Than Love & I Love, I Love (Traveling II)
6. Where would you rather be?: This Was Pompeii
7. Describe what you want to be: The One Who Knows
8. Describe how you live: It Happens Every Day
9. Describe how you love: I Won't Be Your Yoko Ono
10. Share a few words of wisdom: The World's Not Falling Apart

I felt dark, I guess

2005-09-30T23:55:00.000-04:00

Qilue Veladorn
Your legends imply 53 Caprice, 40 Steel vs Art, and 54 Outlandishness!

"I didn't mean to splash ink on your face, lady -- ye mean, that is thy face?"

Dancer in the Moonlight, Black Sheep of the Seven, Chosen of Eilistrae

You, my dear lady, are nothing like your sisters -- and not just
because you're of a totally different race: you serve a totally
different goddess, and you're not a wizard but a priest besides!
Indeed, the only of the seven who is a drow, you work behind the scenes
to promote the faith of your two goddesses, guiding those goodly drow
who venture to the surface. . . and holding the evil ones at bay. Most
folk do not know you exist, and few of those who do know what you are,
but that's just fine by you.

My test tracked 3 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender:

You scored higher than 99% on Caprice
You scored higher than 0% on Steel vs Art
You scored higher than 0% on Outlandishness

Link: The Which of the Seven Sisters? Test written by eriksdb on Ok Cupid

Somethings...

2005-09-19T22:35:00.000-04:00

Somethings I find so interesting, I lack words. I simply stare absorbed by the profound nudity.

postsecret

Brilliant!

2005-09-19T22:10:00.000-04:00

A most novel idea set forth by Planned Parenthood Pennsylvania, as I'm been directed by my good friend, kerrickadrian:

Every time protesters gather outside of our Locust Street health center, our patients face verbal attacks from them. They see graphic signs meant to confuse and intimidate. They are sometimes blocked from entering the building and occasionally they are videotaped. They are offered anti-choice propaganda and free rides to the closest "crisis pregnancy
center."

Staff and volunteers are also seen as targets. We are all called murderers, are lectured to about committing sins, and are told we will pay the "ultimate price" for our actions.

You can stand with others in the community against these
acts of intimidation and harassment

Here's how it works: You decide on the amount you would like to pledge for each
protester (minimum 10 cents). When protesters show up on our sidewalks, Planned
Parenthood Southeastern Pennsylvania will count and record their number each day from October 1 through November 30, 2005. We will place a signoutside the health center that tracks pledges and makes protesters fully aware that their actions are benefiting PPSP. At the end of the two-month campaign, we will send you an update on protest activities and a pledge reminder.

Example:
If you pledge 30 cents per protester, and PPSP has 100 protesters in October and 160
protesters in November, your donation would be 78 dollars for the entire two-month campaign.

Similar to sponsoring a runner in a charity marathon, your pledge total can be capped at a pre-set amount, if desired.

So...

2005-09-13T17:58:00.000-04:00

If you suddenly became a senior in high school again and had to take British Lit, what would you want to read as part of the class. They're pretty much given me free reign to teach whatever I want. I really need a suggestion on what Shakespeare play to read and a novel to read. Ideas?

Strange Dreams

2005-09-10T01:08:00.000-04:00

Crazy nightmares lately. First I had a nightmare about administering a test. All the kids were cheating and my dry erase board broke in half. There's lots of interpretations of dreams about TAKING tests, but giving them? I guess it's karma for giving the kids quizzes for two straight days. Then I had a dream last night about first being hit/nearly hit by a train and then that a pair of burglars invaded our house. Somehow I was just able to escape them, and the entire neighborhood came back to bust into the house to save Chris. Then we were driving to his mom's house to get our minds off the incident and I was completely unconsoleable the entire way there, just bursting out in uncontrolable weeping at random times. It was honestly one of the very, very few dreams I've had that, when I woke, I honestly was surprised that it had not been reality.

And again I restate: there are few things more boring than listening to someone describe a dream they had.

I can't help but wonder how many students I might run into at Necro. Ah hell, I hope I run into administrators!

More school talk & Project Talk

2005-09-08T22:41:00.000-04:00

So much for the long-term gig teaching health care occupations...

Hello long-term English teaching gig!

It's better for all involved, but I will miss the freshmen. I think I like them better than the older students. Then again, I have a habit of saying whatever batch I'm currently with is my favorite thus far. Hopefully watching either Willow or Goonies will leave them with fond memories of me. I'll be on the same campus anyway, so I still couldn't escape the "Hi Mrs. McCoy!"s as I dash frantically searching for a functional copy machine even if I had to. Hopefully also I'll get a teacher who gives a damn about his kids even if he can't be on campus to teach them. God, I hate filling in for someone who's idea of giving the finger to his (soon-to-be) ex-employeer is to leave the poor sub who's trying to cover the school's collective ass with busy work scavenged from the internet and other teachers.

Husband and I are moving forward with the lastest projects. Strike another playtesting off our list of things to do, and started getting our personal project in the digital stage. Again, we try to keep up with the machine that is Mike Wallace, and we prove our flesh weak and spongy again. If we look both ways and hold hands, we should make it out of this alive (and with writing credits, too!)

P.S. Don't you hate it when you see people who you respect (parents, professionals, bosses, etc.) using obviously incorrect grammar. I excuse spelling (for obvious reasons), but commonly confused words... as often as they're used, you'd think adults would know the difference between "your" and "you're", especially if you're teaching at a high school. Bah!

For my husband, and any other (water)closed celiacs out there:

2005-08-27T10:43:00.000-04:00

You might be celiac if...

1. The centerpiece on your dining room table is a bread machine.
2. Your bread looks like a moon rock and tastes like dried out Play Doh.
3. Your bread weighs more than any moon rock could possibly weigh.
4. The only way you will eat your bread is toasted.
5. You've paid over $5 for a loaf of bread.
6. You make your own pizza
7. You visit a health food store at least twice a week.
8. You buy most of your food on the Internet.
9. One of your primary goals in life is to create "Fake Oreo Cookies" (and/or Cheerios)
10. There are Garage Sale stickers on all your kitchen food containers.
11. You have argued about and read articles about distilled vinegar and oats.
12. You've disinherited loved ones for putting their knife in your mayo.
13. You've ever been caught licking a discarded Twinkie wrapper.
14. At Christmas, visions of guar gum dance in your head.
15. You are a strictly brand name shopper
16. You've ever had to give a doctor a crash course in Celiac 101.
17. You weep at picnics, parties, receptions and fast food joints.
18. You weep at breakfast, lunch, and dinner.
19. You've ever "brown bagged it" to an elegant dinner party.
20. You have written "contaminated" on jars of peanut butter.
21. You have become friends with the customer service representatives at every company.
22. The customer service representatives at every company recognize your voice.
23. You know the difference between an allergy and an intolerance...and you care.
24. You have two of everything in your kitchen (pots, pans, wooden spoons, etc.).
25. You are afraid of spices and in restaurants, ask for your food "naked."
26. You are afraid of and have nightmares about bagels, pizza, and cake.
27. You make many phone calls from the supermarket.
28. You know what disodium phosphate, tartaric acid, and quinoa are...and care.
29. You know who Danna Korn, Peter Green, and Anne Lee are.
30. You bring many, many lists with you to the supermarket.
31. The first thing you do, upon reaching an unfamiliar location, is pinpoint the location of the nearest bathroom.
32. You have ever tried to explain to a waiter that "it is necessary to use clean pans for you food" and he stares back at you in disbelief.
33. You ordered a salad with no croutons and the entire time its being made you wish you could go back to the kitchen and watch them prepapre it but were afraid to ask.
34. You have taken a poop at all of your friends and relatives houses, even if you just met them...
35. You have explained to people the difference/similarities between Modified Food Starch and Modified Corn Starch at least 50 times (or you know what disodium phosphate is -- Coulter)
36. You ask Asian restaurants if they have baked or mashed potatoes
37. You ask every restaurant if they have baked/mashed potatoes
38. You've kissed someone who just drank beer and wonder if you will get sick
39. You've kissed someone who just drank a beer and you really wanted their beer instead of your vodka/tonic, wine, spritzer, ......
40. You've responded to someone's post on a website about bowel problems and were brutally honest about your own "issues with bowels"
41. You read this post and laughed because you've "been there"
42. People think you're on the Atkins diet
43. You've asked for a bunless burger...and been looked at as if you have three heads.
44. You've asked about the ingredients of shampoo
45. You post on this board...that's not funny, though
46. You've washed your telephone after your child/spouse has answered it while eating.
47. You've checked all cups in a coffee shop for crumb residue.
48. You can say Kinnikinnick 10 times fast without making a mistake
49. With just one quick whiff, you can pinpoint the brand name and fragrance of every air freshener on the market!
50. You have had to leave the room because someone else was eating Pizza Hut's breadsticks and they smelled TOOOOOOO good!
51. Someone else complains of IBS, and you tell them to quit eating gluten!
52. Or you know someone that was dx with diverticulitis and you tell them to stop eating gluten!!!
53. You don't know what a "normal" bowel movement is.
54. You thought of (or started) a topic called "you might be a celiac if...."
55. Eating out is a "death sentence" not an enjoyable event!
56. All you eat at the church pot luck dinner is jello
57. Your tears compete with your drool when you pass a Krispy Kreme!!!
58. Carry some type of medication with 24/7 (ie Immodium)
59. At least once a day smile and say, "Sorry, I can't have that"
60. Have been lectured on your crazy dieting and told to just forget about your weight
61. Have survived for some period of time solely on rice or peanut butter
62. Physically flinch at the feel of bread or similar product
63. Feel nauseous at the sight of some gluten filled food
64. Have mastered the art of passing gas in public
65. You read this list to your SO (who doesn't have celiac) and they laughed right along with you.
66. You have ever thought you might explode from holding in a fart too long while in public
67. You have ever had nightmares about being trapped in the bread aisle in the grocery store
68. You have ever had a meltdown from actually BEING trapped in the bread aisle in the grocery store.
69. You call a dream about eating pizza and chocolate cake a NIGHTMARE!!
70. You read a topic called Cheating and you just KNOW it's not about her husband and her best friend!!
71. Your answer to this joke: "Why did the lion spit out the clown?" is something like... "Because the lion had celiac and as his fangs began to clench down he saw out of the corner of his eye that the clown's hand was holding a slice of pizza ?" When the real answer is: "Because the clown tasted funny!"
72. You pay $1.59 for a 12 oz bottle of rootbeer!
73. You�re glad that summer is here. Not because the winter is too cold, but because in summer you can enjoy the hot fudge sundaes with the fries at McDonalds better.
74. You never leave the house for longer than 5 hours without taking some food with you.
75. There is a banquet where you will get honored and you�ve asked, if you can get the entry ticket for the party that includes the banquet food, for a cheaper price, because you can�t eat there anyway (don�t laugh, that happened to me two weeks ago).
76. Everybody on your sports travel team knows that there are some celiacs on the team and what these celiacs can and can�t have, including the medication, when you get hurt at competition. And every non-celiac keeps their fingers of the �celiac-travel-cooler�.
77. You have an extra first aid celiac medication kit for the celiacs in your travel team and everybody (even the non-celiacs) knows, where it is.
78. Your spouse sits in front of the television in the evening while you surf on www.celiac.com.
80. You've ever asked the waitress is the ice tea has wheat in it....
81. You've rolled your eyes when a non-celiac has said to you in a health food store, "I've (voluntarily) tried the gluten free diet before, I felt great"
82. You been afraid of having your significant other spend the night because of "night gas"...
83. You have sent someone else to the store to buy "emergency pepto"
84. You have received 3 copies of Bette Hagman's books collecting dust in your bookcase
85. You've actually said a profanity in a grocery store after reading an ingredient label and seen "wheat flour" as one of the ingredients....
86. You've wondered if Pepto or Immodium have "hidden gluten"
87. You've thought that your future soulmate is another celiac
88. You've called 4 grocery stores and 3 duistributors in various parts of your home state to encourage them to carry Bard's Dragon Gold Beer
89 Every time you order GF food at a chain fast food restaurant, you lean over and try to watch them make it..

To whoever you are...

2005-08-19T16:01:00.000-04:00

Somewhere out there, there is a person who had a job waiting for them at a certain Charlotte county high school teaching introduction to nursing. This person has yet to arrive there. I'd just like to take a moment and thank them. I will gladly be your sub indefinately for a little over half what they were probaby going to pay you.

Again, thank you, and I hope you never come back!

Love,
Mrs. McCoy

A note on spellcheck.

2005-08-14T20:32:00.000-04:00

As you've probably noticed, I don't spellcheck or edit my posts here. For one, it's because I'm lazy, pure and simple. The more public friendly reason is that I want everyone to see what my writing looks like naked. Like a freak sideshow, I stick it out there for all to stare and gawk at. Yes, a college educated person writes like this: an English Lit major at that. So, feel better, by all means.

More Chrissy Brand Irony

2005-08-14T20:27:00.000-04:00

I start back at work tomorrow. My brain decided on Friday night to give me an idea for a product, and that idea won't leave me alone! Now, if I'd had this idea in May, I'd have had all summer to write it. As it stands, I'll be squeezing it in during planning periods. Luckily, this idea nearly writes itself (I'm still doing research to see if someone else beat me to writing it, which I at once wish someone has and has not).

But like all of us, I'll make time for it.

Back to School/Work

2005-08-02T15:37:00.000-04:00

Today is the first day of work for the teachers in my county. The students don't go back until the 10th, so I won't have any work until then. Hopefully, there'll be a few teachers who already know they're going to need time off. I actually don't even expect to work the first week of school, although it would be nice! Hopefully I'll be schedualed for long-terms (16 days+); they're at a much higher pay rate. Plus, it is nicer seeing the same kids every day.

I've just a few more days to finish up what I've wanted to do during the summer. I can't say I've finished everything I wanted to do; far from it. But, I am happy with what I have done so far.

Here's to a new year!

Need more of the goat?

2005-08-01T16:57:00.000-04:00

In case you couldn't get enough of me, I started a personal livejournal: From the Goat's Mouth

See you there!

On a lighter note

2005-07-27T00:58:00.000-04:00

Internet lists! w00t!!

1) When I was a kid, after school I: watched TV. Sad, but true. No wonder I always have something to talk about with 20-something Americans: we all watched the same lame ass TV shows. What the hell happened to "You Can't Do That on Television" anyway...

2) This one time when I was high: ...ley's not go there. "One time"... *pffizt*

3) The New Pope: is an old white guy. *Shock and Awe* Whatever. He's just a placeholder anyway.

4) I fall asleep easily: never. Ever. Maybe when it's 3 am and the husband is still up and around the house with the TV blasting and typing on the computer. Other than that, I'm up.

5) I need more: well, normal sleep habits for one.

6) I need less: family stress.

7) Public toilets are useful for: hey, this is the internet! We don't talk about that kind of stuff here!

8) The United States should change its name to: U.S.A, like KFC did a few yaers back. Think of it was streamlining it.

9) My theme song would be: the soundtrack to Andy Warhol's "Sleep"

10) Sometimes I think people: will never understand each other because self-realization is a maddening thing. We are each other. At once ironic and deep shit.

11) Prescription drugs are: for the people who don't want them/can't afford them and being taken by the people who don't need them.

12) I think about sex whenever: I'm having/about to have sex. I try not to obess too much.

13) The middle finger is most useful for: making sure they're no gap between the ring and pointer fingers. It's a poor form of communication despite what so many think; it lacks the depth of meaning one typically is trying to express when using it.

14) The last time I bought a pair of shoes: last week. At Wal-mart. On impulse. I've been out of college too long.

15) In one month: I'll be back to work! YAY!

16) For the last time: I'm fine. I'll let you know when I'm not.

17) The last thing I stole: was probably some minor office supply from a classroom. Pens stick to me.

18) If I won the lotto, the first thing I would buy: a month's rent for my grandparents at their new luxury assisted living center.

19) When in Rome: check out the new pope before he dies! (If he dies soon, am I going to hell now?)

20) If only I could get rid of: the gnats. Tiny imps, they are.

21) Your mom: isn't as eerily like me as my mom. If you knew, you'd understand.

22) When I'm on death row my last meal will be: at least 100 courses.

23) The last person who talked to me: the husband, who said good-night.

24) I mostly use the internet: for blogs, webcomics, fantasy art, writing d20 settings, the usual.

25) When I'm President: I'll be the best puppet ever. Like Pinocchio in reverse.

26) I most resemble: my parents. Hey, this is still weird to me!

27) The word I say too much is: according to Davin, it's "you know". I think it's "like". Husband says it's "dude".

28) Vegas is great for: wasting money!

29) Michael Jackson: probably a better president than Bush. He could do it; I hear votes are cheaper than innocence these days.

30) The Speed Limit means: "drive this speed +7". Thanks for the rule of thumb, dad!

31) When I die I want my body: to be alive again, damn it!

32) If I could go back in time I'd: save more of my writing. That's good material gone to waste!

33) The last time I said "this sucks": when husband said bits had fallen of the space shuttle.

34) You obviously know me well when: you actually know where my blog is AND read it. Congrats!

35) Tomorrow I will: hopefully know I have a new niece, a place for my grandpa to be taken care of, and make rice crispy treats.

36) I spend too much time: sleeping at inappropriate hours.

37) The last thing I broke: a glass, but it was a mutual break between me and my husband. (Hopefully the last!!!)

Alright, there, consider my blog a little lighter.

The hospital called...

2005-07-26T15:55:00.000-04:00

The hospital called while I was visiting grandma. It was the Release Coordinater. They've figured that their hospital is not the best place for him and he should be released.

I talked to her a bit. She was clear that he needs 24/7 care. I assured her that my grandma was not able to do it. I said that she would need to talk to my dad, his guardian, about everything that needs to be taken into consideration about his care.

I finally think I got it across to grandma what it is he needs and why she can't give it to him. He needs care. Not room and board. Just making sure he's fed, medicated, somewhat clean, and lives in a (relatively) clean house isn't enough for him. He needs someone to control his behavior. Not just monitor. Not just watch helplessly as he wanders outside with a firearm. Not someone who he thinks should listen to him and not the other way around.

Honestly, grandpa is emotionally abusive to her. I amend that: his disease is abusing her. Grandpa loves grandma. His disease renders him unable to do what love is: be considerate and selfless. He lacks the ability to understand others in any way. Either he forgets or can't comprehend.

I told her that he needs someone who can control his behavior. He obviously can't control it himself. He was always the dominate one of the house. The Alpha has gone mad. No one can tell him what to do, especially the woman who cooked and cleaned for him for decades. Quite the opposite.

He's getting out of the hospital, and they're deciding what should be done. He shouldn't come home. He is becoming little more than a host for his disease; a sick doppelganger shaped like my grandfather. He can't come home; he's lost. Only his disease could return. I don't think any of us can take it much longer.

I...

2005-07-22T17:05:00.000-04:00

I cleaned.
I wrote.
I shopped.

If only I'd cooked, I'd had a full day.

It makes me nuts to think how I know that I'll be able to do all this plus go to work next month. Well, I guess once you subtract sleeping until noon (I went to bed at 11pm!), it evens out.

Didn't help that the guy upstairs decided a good place for his speakers were on his floor right below our computer. Lately I saw on those tech shows how they're isolating sound, so, for example, just as you walk by the soda machine, the machine says "Drink our Crap!" and only you'll hear it. Old news. Only me and the guy upstairs could hear his radio. Every word. I got the traffic report. Through my ceiling. Top that, mad advertizing scientists!

Updates!

2005-07-21T13:03:00.000-04:00

All good news today!

On the baby front: there are contractions! They're not regular yet, and she's dialated a little bit. But soon, there will be baby!

Also, grandpa is being held at the hospital under the Baker Act. My dad hopes they'll give him a wake-up call and that grandpa will mend his ways. I think this is going to end up being a positive move for us. Grandpa has an organic mental disorder that will not ever improve; he's at the point where the best we can do is make everyone as comfortable as possible. I was talking to the nurse at the ER, and she explained to me, quite openly in front of him, that he was going to be placed in a mental hospital and that they were waiting for a bed to open. When she left, grandpa asks me when he's going home. I told him that he needs to be keep under observation to make sure he's going to get better before he goes home, and that he needs to see a specialist at another hospital. I don't think he understands what's going on.

Apparently what happened was that my brother found grandpa wandering the neighborhood with his gun out. They scuffled and my brother got the gun away from him. the police were called, they took all the firearms. They took grandpa under the guise of treating his injuries from falling down. From what I see, it looks like my brother had to give him a good one to the mouth.

Now he's in the mental hospital. I'm hoping that the doctors give him enough rope to hang himself with; he's way past the point where he tries to hide his delusions. He regularly asks grandma "How many n*****s did you f*** before we were married?" and is sure she's cheating on his with his brother. They're professionals; they'll know what to say to lure his illness to the surface.

My one worry is that social services will probably get involved now. Thier house isn't the best living condition. It is shameful. In all honesty, they shouldn't be living on their own. I don't know what the state can do about it. I'll have to see if they can remove elderly like they do children when they're in a bad situation.

So far, it's all been for the best. So there you go: good news!

My Niece

2005-07-20T03:14:00.000-04:00

My sister is 9 and a half months pregnant. My mom is going batshit. She can't even have a drink in case she has to drive my sister to the hospital. She's going to the doctor later this week.

I did the same thing to mom when she was pregnant with me. I guess my maternal family line has very comfy wombs. I guess that's good to know...

Anyway, I'll let you know if anything happens on that front.

Good News, Bad News

2005-07-20T02:23:00.000-04:00

For those keeping up on the Talley warfront:

Bad News: Grandpa go into a fight with my brother which caused him to fall down. He might have hurt his head, so they took him to the hospital. Grandma is right now home alone and freaking out as one might expect. I have to go pick him up tomorrow; driving with grandpa... is. not. fun. And I'm sure he'll be in the best of moods. :(

Good News: The police (at least temporarily) have taken grandpa's guns out of the house because of the fight. Some people bitch that old people should have their driver's licences taken away. Fuck that; I'd settle for doctor recommended removal of firearms. Sure, he can't buy a new gun (at least I hope), but he did already have a couple. That shit gives me nightmares. He's going to want them back, too. The mentally ill have civil rights. I wouldn't want the government pounding down their door to remove anything that could be used as a weapon from their home. He deserves to keep what dignity he hasn't lost to his disease already. We have to draw the line.

Or maybe I do. My father and brother have both proven themselves unable to handle him. It's no real fault of their own. The man has no reason anymore. They argue with him because if they didn't it would mean that they'd completely given up on speaking to him like a person. We all want to give up so bad sometimes, but even then we don't know what that would mean. Grandma... she has to live under his whims. He doesn't understand she's not the chipper young woman who cooks and cleans for him. Actually, she does still cook and clean, but... her blindness is showing. She's utterly defenseless against anything he says or does. She's literally trapped inside her house; she can't even go outside without her oxygen.

He still considers me a loving grandaughter. Which I am. But his perception of my love is as an obedient love, like I'm still a child. I think, for as long as he might remember it, he might listen to me. But what to say... I don't even know where to start or where to end.

The other day I was visiting, going to the store for them. Grandma was trying to get him to take his shot; as usual, he was many hours late taking it. He's been diabetic since way before I was born. He rolls his insulin to get it ready and says, "What is this stuff anyway?"
"It's your insulin, Bill," my grandma replies already irritated by his procrastination, "You need it because you're diabetic."
He grunted, and continued to go through the motions. "When do I go to the doctor next?" he asked.
"September," she said.
"I'll have to ask him when that's going to end," he said.
I could tell grandma gave up after that, just satisfied that he got his medicine.

Still not as bad as the day about a month ago where he came out of his bedroom so my grandma could button his shirt. (His hands shake too badly.)
"I whooped my pants," he announced, holding a folded bundle of underwear.
Grandma told him to put them in the hamper. When he came back out, he announced that he was "going to see those fucking police" because (from the best I could piece together because he was "losing his words," as grandma puts it) they had taken the "reciepts" and "papers" regarding his boat (a tired p.o.s. if there ever was one). He was concerned that it would be seized and that he would have nothing in the way of proof of ownership.

Reminds me of when I first realzied something might be wrong with him. In 2002 when I still lived at home, I was having breakfast with him before I went to work. He said he was concerned about living so near the ocean. I asked why. He said that al-Qaeda could storm the beach and attack us here. In Englewood. From large, troop-carring watercraft. I told him to do research, that they were a terrorist group and didn't operate like that. They're not the Allied forces and we're not Normandy. He refused to listen. He remained worried. I think he hasn't mentioned it anymore because he doesn't remember what al-Qaeda is or why he was afraid of them. I'm loathe to ask either way.

Bah, I need to get to sleep. I'll be no help tomorrow if I sleep until noon again. God help us when I start work again. They _are_ a full-time job.

I made a cake

2005-07-12T16:44:00.000-04:00

Note to self: I can blame this on the soy flour.

Let's just wait and see what Chris thinks when he gets home...

Yeah, definately the soy flour's fault.

Speak of the sister...

2005-07-12T11:22:00.000-04:00

Funny I should start talking about my sister (Diego's mom). She started calling the other day and I finally got to answer the phone. Apparently she's getting married. His name is Jason (I think, she's hard to understand sometimes over the phone). The date is April 22. Hopefully he's a good guy. We're going to meet up on Saturday so we can get to know each other. He seems ok so far. He's hard to understand over the phone, too. As Chris puts it, he speaks Banjo. (*Deliverance theme*) But if they are happy and stable, good for them.

Here they come!

2005-07-08T14:58:00.000-04:00

So they're both on the way: Dennis and my new niece.

Funny, the definition of niece: " 1. The daughter of one's brother or sister or of the brother or sister of one's spouse. 2. The illegitimate daughter of an ecclesiastic who has taken a vow of celibacy."

I sent out a few more baby things to my sister, and I called my mom from the UPS store. She said the baby is turning, for those who know what that means. Pretty much, baby is telling us that she's getting ready to be born. Due in August, my ass! I'd lay $5 on a July birth now.

I feel somewhat bad though about being happy about my new niece. I already have a nephew that I've only met once. My step-sister had a boy, Deigo, in 2001, who now lives with his father's mom. As far as I know, they live in Sarasota. Diego's father is a screw-up from Belieze. My sister has become handicap since Deigo was born and can't care for herself hardly, let alone her son. So, my nephew lives with his abuella, and I am his Tia Aunt Chrissy (yes, redundant, but my half-bi-lingual tongue-tied self came up with it.) he met once at his third birthday. I try to remember to get him a gift for his birthday and Christmas, but it's hard. My family has a difficult enough time acknowledging my step-sister, this generation's "family fuck-up", let alone her out-of-wedlock child that lives with a strange, foreign family. (I haven't yet told my family that my niece is, in their terms, a "quadroon". [Do real people even use that word anymore?!?] Bah, at least my mom's side is accepting.)

Either way, I should be happy and do my best to be a good aunt for both my niece and nephew regardless of what the rest of my family thinks of them. They're relations, all the same, and I wouldn't want my brother or sisters to think any differently of my own kids when I have them.

So about this weather. Did anyone bother to tell the divine weather creators that be that it's fucking July, thus being too early for this shit? It looks like we're about to get our first little taste of it soon. A little band is about to tap us. I just had to rent on the island, didn't I? Bleech. I should just turn the weather channel off before it makes me totally batshit. It's like watching slow, life-threatening paint dry. And did Bush make it law that hurricans can only come on weekends? I think it's a clause in the Patriot Act.

Cross your fingers for me on the Unemployment hearing I had this morning. Hopefully they'll be sending me good news soon.

My completely unbiased opinion

2005-07-07T12:49:00.000-04:00

This is the best D&D modual ever.

You buy now!

Or later...

But you will enjoy! Trust me, it's good!

As promised!

2005-07-03T17:13:00.001-04:00

So here it is: the July issue of the Silven Trumpeter featuring Chris McCoy and me! Enjoy! (Who doesn't love an awesomely laid out free ezine?)

the Silven Trumpeter

Note to husband

2005-07-01T03:15:00.000-04:00

Sweetest, if you ever see me drinking a soda at midnight again, kick me. There is no other reason why I'm still awake. *bleech*

Just another tiny reason why the war in Iraq sucks

2005-07-01T02:55:00.000-04:00

I'll not rant, I'll just share the story as I know it.

Don, my mom-in-law's husband, is a officer in the army and is stationed in Iraq. He's right now desprately trying to get a solider out of Iraq and back home. The soldier went on a two week leave to visit his wife and three kids and has just returned about a week ago. He had hoped that they had timed his visit to coinside with the birth of his fourth child, but, when he got back on the plane to take him back out there, the baby had not come yet. After he got back the baby was born. Sadly, his wife died in childbirth.

Don has been doing his damnest to get this guy back home to kids and maybe attend his wife's furneral. She was buried the other day, and the children, including the newborn, are being slip up and set up with different family members across the county. Don wrote a memo encouraging his superiors to excuse the soldier from combat and to return him home.

The response: "If the army had meant for their soliders to have a wife or children, they would have been issued them." That is, ladies and gentlemen, a direct quote.

The solider has to stay in Iraq, across the globe from his children, one of which he has not met, and the grave of his wife.

I'll say this much: I am glad I married a Canadian with a heart condition. I could never put someone I love in such callus hands, not for any cause.

Ten Pieces of Advice for Myself at 18

2005-06-29T02:23:00.000-04:00

A great idea handed down to me by kerrick ( http://www.livejournal.com/users/kerrickadrian/)

1) Don't be with the guy you daydream about; be with the man who lets you daydream.

2) Tomorrow, you'll get to love your family a little harder. Tomorrow, it'll be a little harder to love your family. Don't let this bother you; the situation is the same for them.

3) Write for yourself, not someone else, but don't write just for yourself. Share and be true, but adapt when requested.

4) Having physical needs (eating, bathroom, all that) won't make you uncool. When you're hungry, eat. And laugh with your mouth full when you do. Girls go hungry while women eat and be merry.

5) The first time you get hit, leave. Never look back, even in anger.

6) Save your papers. You can always try to use them again later. Also, they'll remind you one day of how smart you were when your mind was fresh.

7) Go to that protest you were asked to attend on 9/11/01. You'll kick yourself if you don't. Go to all protests you believe in. If you could protest for squirrel rights and Christmas tree lives, you can certainly back with your attendance any opinion you have now.

8) He may be 15 now, but trust that funny feeling in your stomach. That bagger is someone very special. Be patient and be ready when he is.

9) Puking, locking yourself in dark rooms and hiding under blankets is not fun. Nor are helecopter beds or spending tons of cash to watch your boyfriend's friends get high. I'm not telling you not to try, but we both know you've got better things to do.

10) You don't have to know what you want to do as a career just yet, but that doesn't mean that a career will be on the end of whatever meandering road you take. Find out what what you're good at is good for. Don't say no until you try it; don't try it again if you're positive the answer is no. Setting goals doesn't mean you have to dash yourself on them, like some people you know. Go at your own pace, but know where you're going.

gee

2005-06-28T16:29:00.000-04:00

http://kittenwar.com/

OMG teh k1773nz!!!11!!

Sleep won...

2005-06-25T12:57:00.000-04:00

Midnight, noon: same difference.

Anyway, a little news from everyone favorite summer housewife:

Yes, I said housewife. I realized that's what I am this summer. It doesn't sound like an exciting summer vacaction, but I can't say I haven't learned anything.

I've come to grips with not getting the job. Looking at myself from without, it's probably not that hard to find someone else with more experience and creditials. Not that I'm downing myself, but I'm being realistic about what I offer. Come next May, I'll be quite the catch. ;-)

So, what else... I'll be an aunt again come August! The day we were moving in, I got a letter from my sister with the shower invitation and a picture from her ultrasound. It took about a day, but I finally figured out what I was looking at. It will be a girl, and I can't wait to see her! My sister says she's coming to Florida in December to visit the baby's grandparents in Jacksonville, and we were hopefully going to meet up so I can meet this little angel.

I'm trying to get into a Necronomicon state of mind. Yeah, it's a little early, but I need to start thinking and acting like an author, as in I need to be working on my projects. I really like working on Frontier with Mike, and somehow it not being my baby (or at least I'm not the one with the labor pains) makes it an easier and more fun project. Tons less anxiety when I'm not working alone on something. I think that's why Timarie has been staring me in the face so long. I've been tempted to hand some of the work off to someone else. I mean, I'm certainly surrounded by many capable persons who I would think would be more than happy to help out with it, but I'm thinking that would be a cheap way out. I should have something of my own that stands on its own. Plus, it's not like I don't have the time to being working on it at the moment.

We're going to look at some pets. The owners say no cats or dogs. Yeah, that leaves things pretty much wide open, but we'll just see what might work for us. And then, the sushi! And then, the LARPing! I do love Saturdays!

No more television!

2005-06-24T16:09:00.000-04:00

Screw the TV. I've teh internet again!

*Happy Dance*

Now I have to go outside. Blah! I return at midnight. Bye!

:(

2005-06-16T10:31:00.000-04:00

We're losting our internet connection for a few days, guys, in case you didn't already catch that info from Chris' blog. You know, we finnaly dug out our Changling LARP books because the Bathroom Reader wasn't enough. Ah, sweet gaming reading!

Mike: Computer will be up despite no internet, so I will get a look at the project.

Laura: The roof is white. Hope that doesn't throw you off! See you Saturday!

Other internet people: See you next week!

Empty... room...

2005-06-14T21:50:00.000-04:00

It's so empty in here...

Moving is a sureal experience every time I've done it. An empty room reminds me of the last time its was emptied, when we first moved in. Damn, Chris and I had just started dating. He was still... well, I'll not go there, least to say he was yet to feel the entire female wrath that is Chrissy.

Anywho, let's play a game. Let's see how long I can last without ANY gaming material to read before my name is in the newspaper.

...

Ten mintues so far...

...meep...

At least I still have "teh internet". And pixie sticks. That's enough entertainment at least for one more night.

Hope those lawyers aren't sitting on their meat-eating asses about our paperwork. I need my gaming books, damn it! (They're entirely medicinal, trust me. I've a perscription...)

Sorry, Mario, The job is at another school...

2005-06-14T13:44:00.000-04:00

I got a letter back from the school where I thought I had a new job in the bag. The bag busted.

It's not as if I have no job. Come August, I go back to work for Charotte county schools either way. Where is still in question... No one else has called me back for an interview. I guess I do need more experience or something. I mean, I had only been subing for three months and I'm not fully accedited yet. Blah, I don't feel like talking about it. Drinking and smoking about it, yes; talking, no.

Anyway, sorry I haven't updated in a while. I'm sure anyone who checks up on me here also checks Chris' blog. He's better about posting than I am. I've been apartment hunting. Finally found a great one. A real full-package deal. I just dropped off the check for deposit/last/first. Now it's just waiting on the lawyers. They move out the shit that's in there; we put in our shit. All done. Happy happy. Joy joy.

Weird...

2005-05-27T18:23:00.000-04:00

Not so much the first result, it's the first and the second result and how they're equal. I don't want to know what I'll do to myself...

Anakin Skywalker

69%

Padme Amidala

69%

Yoda

58%

Clone Trooper

53%

Darth Vader

53%

Obi Wan Kenobi

50%

C-3PO

44%

R2-D2

42%

Mace Windu

36%

Chewbacca

31%

Emperor Palpatine

19%

General Grievous

17%

Which Revenge of the Sith Character are you?
created with QuizFarm.com

Congrats to Harley! (And why Winn-Dixie is dumb)

2005-05-20T23:31:00.000-04:00

Mr. Sunshine is going to be writing about vampires! Way to go! :-) Check out his name (and the other people who also made round one): vampire fiction kicks ass.

In case I wasn't already convinced for the stupidity at the top of the Winn-Dixie chain of authority, I received a check for my left over vacation pay last week. I wasn't expecting a check from them; I thought that I had requested all of my vacation hours for the honeymoon. In fact, I had not gotten all my paid time off, so they cut me a check for the remainder.

Time left: one minute.

Check value: $.09

They mailed it to me. With a $.37 stamp.

W.T.F.

When Flexibility Sucks

2005-05-18T08:27:00.000-04:00

After next Thursday, I’m out of a job. School will be out, and this county doesn’t have any summer school program. So whatever is a girl to do? Well, I’m applying to English teacher job postings as the come up and next Friday I’m going to get me some of that Unemployment I’ve been paying for. Best outcome: I get paid to sit on my ass all summer and write my damn novel while waiting until fall to start my new teaching gig. Oh, let it be so!

On a happy note, I thought I’d expound a bit on Silven. They’re publishing “Old Friends”, an old story if there ever was one. The first draft was actually on the WotC boards, for those who remember those days. I want to say it was for a chall(a)nge, but I couldn’t remember now what the prompt was. It’s been edited some, but it’s also posted on my writing.com port in one of its eariler forms. Hopefully this will be the start of a beautiful relationship.

Anyway, back to looking over Harley’s module. This guy * is * a pro, no doubts. When I’m reading for someone, I’m used to still being able to see the joints, seams, and other conjoining elements of a piece; there’s always some bit of awkwardness to a work. Not our man, Harley. Word is he’s working on something for White Wolf’s new Vampire. A sunny guy like him probably burns vampiric characters just thinking about them. Good luck, dude!

A special thanks to my husband, too. He was the one who actually sent in the offering to Silven. He knows I’m such a puss about those things. Best agent I ever had! Love you, sweetest!

All's well

2005-05-16T20:50:00.000-04:00

...
That ends well.

Just like my parents, you're the last to know that I made it home safely from my mom-in-law's wedding. I'm still sleepy. Driving sucks.

...sleep...
....good....

P.S. Silven Trumpter wants to publish me. Happy dance. :-)

Being shy and popular

2005-05-09T16:57:00.000-04:00

As if my picture here doesn't give it away ( ;-p ), I'm naturally intropective. I'm not as outgoing as those close to me think I am. It's mainly that I lack initative to engage in social contact. As long as I'm in the presence of someone I like, I have little motivation to go anywhere, do anything, or meet up with anyone else. I don't like being alone, although it certainly doesn't bother me. As long as I know I have friends in an abstract sort of way, being around them physically isn't a state I strive for. The same goes for my family often times. I have my parents, siblings, etc., they exsist somewhere out there and that's good enough for me. I could almost say I don't miss anyone when they're not around, but that could be taken wrongly. Missing conontates a passion, a drive to reunite as soon as possible: I lack that often. If reconection is easy and nothing bars it, why be passionate about it? It's massive, forced separation that sparks that drive for me and not simply physical space.

So where am I going with this? Somehow Chris and I have gained quite a circle of friends, many times over more than I ever had when I was single. I could count on one hand the number of friends I had my first two years of college; on two fingers, to be percise. Not only do we now have more friends than fingers, all are in cliches which number more or less as four. Most are tied to gaming, thus we must see each at least once a week (which I feel is the least often you can contact a person and still consider a close friend). So right off the bat, four nights a week are booked solid. That leaves three night for things that make me feel sane and collected. Not that I'm an agoraphobe, but I feel frazzled if I go out every night of the week, especially after work.

Anyway, I just got off the phone with my oldest friend (one of the aforementioned two fingers' worth of friends and now one of the four cliches). She spent twenty mintues talking about how she wants to hang out "just the two of us". We've been friends since I was 13 years old. We've had this discussion before. I always say that would be cool. We still haven't though. Why? I don't know really. I don't miss her. She's there, we see each other every week, I don't feel like there's anything missing. Yet she does. I shouldn't ignore her feelings; what kind of friend would I be then? Crap ass.

Mental Health Day, my ass...

2005-05-02T11:39:00.000-04:00

Mom-in-law needed to me to stay home from work today for a few hours. After that, it's been Mental Health Day: some time to put my mind to what's important. Working with students has made a phrase come out of my mouth over and over again, "I don't care if you talk, screw around, whatever, just have something to show your teacher what you've done with your time." I make the attempt to follow my own advice. Oh yes, I talk. I screw around. But do I have something to show for it? Something tangible? There is the satisfaction, the afterglow, of having had a fun time. Role-playing, in all the forms I do, is emotionally satisfying. I feel good for thinking, creating, acting, interacting, telling a story. But what good does it do the world? How does it go beyond the 4-15 people in the room? What does a character sheet prove to the world? Let's compare doing nothing and staring off into space to watching TV; by comparison, I'd say my role-playing is like playing a video game. I have fun, sure, but when the game is turned off, there is nothing to show for it all than data on a memory card. Nothing worth mentioning at a funeral or at a class reunion.

I am reminding myself of when I was single. I'd sit at home every night and bitch to myself about how lonely I was, how I never make an effort to met anyone, how lame I was for never doing anything. I'd sit and imagine what I'd do if I went to a club, a bar, the beach, and imagine what I'd say to a guy. I'd try on my hot clothes. I'd play at putting on make-up. For hours, I would do these things. For hours, I'd do nothing about what it would take the same amount of time to do. I'm married now. No more need to bitch and play dress-up. I need to stop whining about not being a writer like I envision myself being. I need to stop acting as author and start actually writing. I've been such a poser, it's incredible. Even if I'm going out without make-up in my PJs, it's better than being all dressed-up and scared to leave the house.

In case you didn't know...

2005-05-01T14:07:00.000-04:00

INFP - the Healer
You scored 18% I to E, 15% N to S, 9% F to T, and 78% J to P!

You are more introverted than extroverted. You are more intuitive than
observant, you are more feeling based than thinking based, and you
prefer to go with the flow rather than having a plan. Your type can
best be summarized by the word "Healer", which belongs to the larger
group of idealists. You have a capacity for caring that is deeper than
most. You strive for unity, are fascinated by the battles between good
and evil, and can be something of an idealist. Only 1% of the
population shares your type.

As a romantic partner, you are usually supprtive and nuturing, however,
you have a high need for individuality. Harmony is extremely important
to you as you are very affected by conflict and tension, which also
makes you resist confronting your partner directly about problems. When
you get angry, you usually blame yourself, rather than your partner.
You can also be stubborn and unyielding when you feel you are being
criticized or mistreated. You feel the most appreciated when your
partner listens to you carefully. You need to be understood. You need
to hear your partner express their feelings, the more often, the
better.
Your group summary: idealists (NF)

Your type summary: INFP

My test tracked 4 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender:

You scored higher than 28% on I to E
You scored higher than 12% on N to S
You scored higher than 2% on F to T
You scored higher than 86% on J to P

Link: The LONG Scientific Personality Test written by unpretentious2 on Ok Cupid

What I did at work today

2005-04-20T17:20:00.000-04:00

I read the paper for two hours which I watched the teacher watch the kids in internal suspension. You could mistake those kids for mimes, they run that ship so tight. (Figures, becuase the kids are so in shit.)

Then I sold tickets to the dance this Thursday. Three dollars. Hand them in with the permission slip at the dance. Write your name on your ticket in case you lose it. Next please. Unfold your money before you hand it to me. Three dollars. Hand them in with the permission... (you get the idea...) That took an hour and a half.

Watch the guest band teacher teach the band class for two periods. Write their grades on their progress reports. (That takes an entire ten minutes.) Listen to "Plaza del Toros" get slaughtered repeatedly.

I love my job.

Thing that sucks: I have picked up EVERY cold bug that has made its way through this zip code since March. Buggy little crappers, kids are.

Regrdless, I'm completely booked for work until mid-May and I have the heads at one high school nodding at me approvingly. (Hopefully it doesn't have too much to do with my 8th grade science teacher being assistant something-or-other. I'd feel far too guilty for compeletly forgetting her if she's been talking me up.)

Apparently, Florida realizes that little Johnny not only cannot read, but only communicates r0x0r13 in 1337 or is all up in ur face, boyz! The ones that can read English would rather study Japanese (where the hell was that class at when I was at school. French or Spanish: blech! But at least I know what the EOSL kids are cursing about through their smiles.). Thus, Florida wants so badly to teach kids how to pass the reading section of FCAT (the state test, for those who haven't been exposed to Jeb Bush's evil-genius plan to make school as banal as possible). Thus, their making extra big budgets ($5 and a pack of confiscated gum) to hire more English teachers. Thus, I'm extra sexy when hiring season starts next month.

i 2 1337 4 u!!1!1! englesh r0x0rz 2 hot1!!1! w00t!

Legally Stoned & Watching YOUR Kids!

2005-04-18T17:50:00.000-04:00

That was me today. Well, I'm still high on OTC cold medicines, but no more kids sneaking out of the room on me. Good thing there's a tattletale in every class. I had the crazy idea all day that I would start reworking Timarie tonight. I started looking it over. I can barely read it. I haven't even looked at it since Septemeber. Shame on me. Totally and utter shame on me. Again with that paralyzing self doubt. I see my husband doing so well in his writing adventures. Shit, I think people forget that I do write. Well, did write perhaps might be more correct. And what stops me? My own fear of rejection, as lame as that sounds. Bah, I should be eating something solid and getting some sleep, not bemoaning my lack of initative and balls.

Good night, kids.

Fun Crap

2005-04-09T00:53:00.000-04:00

(I still have poop on the brain. What do you want from me? I watch kids all day!)

The Unabomber
Congratulations! You scored 23!

You are in the upmost echelon of Geek knowledge. We are in awe of your greatness, at least until you blow us all to bits.

My test tracked 1 variable How you compared to other people your age and gender:

You scored higher than 97% on points

Link: The Geek Vocabulary Test written by aguarojo on Ok Cupid

Chemist
You scored 22% physical, 35% magic, 50% versatile, and 72% good!

Your talent lies in getting useful effects out of things you have with
you. You have a decent understanding of first aid and can probably heal
someone's wounds using some simple herbs. If you have any potions on
you, you know how to make them work better than other people do.
Enemies should watch out when you get your hands on volatile stuff...

My test tracked 4 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender:

You scored higher than 4% on physical
You scored higher than 13% on mystical
You scored higher than 65% on versatile
You scored higher than 84% on good

Link: The Final Fantasy Job Class Test written by Artscrafter on Ok Cupid

Nerdy tests are fun!

Crap Ass

2005-04-08T15:53:00.000-04:00

I just heard from my mom in Arizona that my younger sister, Ashley, is getting a divorce from her husband of little over a year. He went out to party on spring break in Florida and came back saying me wasn't ready to be married, blah, blah, blah... Regardless, he sucks serious ass, in addition to being exceedingly lame in all manner of speaking.

The kicker: their baby girl is due in August.

My mom sent me (and everyone else she knows) an email asking for help readying the house for the baby. They don't have much, and they can't start getting any support from her exhusband until the divorce is final and the baby is born. I guess they don't allow you to get child support for a fetus. Lame.

Anyway, this goes out to everyone I know who is able to help. If you could be so generous, they would be very grateful to take on any gently used baby items: blankets, toys, clothes, etc., or anything a young new mom would need. I'm sending a package out in a few weeks with some things I bought and I will gladly ship there anything anyone would want to give them. If you have any items you could spare, we would all be very grateful. They have nothing at the moment, so anything would be helpful. Even if you just want to send warm thoughts and offers of revenge against her idiot ex, I'll gladly pass those along, too. :-)

Thanks guys.

**IN OTHER NEWS**

I love my husband. He loves his wife.

No babies. No drama. No questions. No bullshit.

All happiness. All the time.

How I spent my Spring Break

2005-04-01T16:18:00.000-05:00

Well, it hasn't been as boring as I thought it would be, but now I wish it had been. Recall a saying about "Interesting Times"?

1) Jynx the kitty is MIA. I made flyers and put an ad in the paper. I've been one who prefers a fading away than a sudden, graphic realization, but above all, of course, I want our kitty back. This is why I keep insisting with every cat I've owned that they not go outside.

2) Death/dying in the news and on the homefront. Chris' co-worker passed away, on the same day as Terri Schiavo. Now it looks like the pope might not make it much longer. In my own words yesterday (to be filed under the "WTF did I just say" slot), "Yeah, it'd be a real shitter if the pope died too." Irony: Mrs. Schiavo's disablity that led to her death by starvation was complications of bulima. Not funny, but somehow I think irony must be the currency of some divine powers that be.

3) The complete and utter bullshit surrounding Chris' driver's licence. Damn... even thinking about it right now gets me furstrated and angry in a way that can only be expressed through chimp-like rock and feces throwing at the monolith that is the Florida state government. At least we're lucky in that it is Spring Break and I can drive him to and from work, etc.

4) There's an ad running on a local radio station for an online company that sends exotic pets to anyone. "Guaranteed to arrive alive," they say, shipped in boxes marked "Old Books" to get them through customs faster. Examples include koalas, chimps, all sorts of monkeys... there HAS to be something illegal or abusive about this racket. If only I could remember the website... I guess I was too busy listening all slack-jawed trying to hear some sign that it was a joke of some kind.

5) I REALLY wish my paycheck would come some time soon. My orientation said absolutely _nothing_ about payrate or pay dates. Even the online charts and dates are exceeding confusing. Again, that primal, pissed-off monkey reaction is growing and festering within. I feel like taking a box of laxatives and a big bag up to Tallahassee (the state capital for you that didn't have the honor of growing up in Florida and having to learn the hardest city to spell ever) and give them a piece of my mind... or just a piece of my crap. We've gotten a ton of crap from them, and I was raised to repay in kind.

Ack... too much monkeys and poo-poo on the brain. I need to watch "The Goonies" this weekend. The Truffle-Shuffle always gets the blues away.

Update!

2005-03-16T22:39:00.000-05:00

(Or if you're Mike, Undate!)

1) I subed at a middle school and I lived.

2) I still have two days to have the above fact recanted for me.

3) I have no idea when I'm getting paid for this. Please let the reward come soon...

The hunt for playesters, a pair of comfortable dress shoes, and a way to improve my hiddeous spelling continues...

A Day Without Shoes

2005-03-15T11:50:00.000-05:00

A day without wearing shoes or socks are good for the soul. Naked feet force the mind to experience every tiny detail of the day's journey. You can feel the carpet, the tile, the grass: those things you usually just walk over without thought. I think there was a Walt Whitman line that went something like, "I am not contained between my boots and hat". I haven't a hat, but I do sometimes feel contrained by my shoes.

It is good to have a day without shoes.

Phew No work

2005-03-15T10:23:00.000-05:00

No one called this morning, dispite my being half awake anyway waiting for the phone to ring. It did ring last night though, and I'll be working the rest of the week. Middle school. I hope they're more merciful than when I was in middle school. That, my friends, was hell in tight-rolled pants. *shiver*

So what do I do today? Finish reviewing FF homework, build up an Arwen-esque character (after I releaized I have no elf-babes in my massive character folder), take movies back to Blockbuster... from there, I guess take deep breaths to prepare for the next three days.

One Hour Service is not available

2005-03-14T22:26:00.000-05:00

So piss off!

I finally got a call for sub work I could take. Murdock middle school wants me Wednesday through Friday. Scary, yet sweet. I guess I'll see if anyone calls for me tomorrow. If not, I might actually finish my assignment from Mike. (Sorry, Mike, I swear I'll be done soon!)

I dreamt last night that I was about to give birth to a baby girl. I was having contractions, but I was at work (some generic job). I was working through the pains, knowing it wasn't time to give birth just yet, but the baby was about to come at any moment. Husband said it meant I was thinking that I was putting work concerns before family issues (which is true), but my first reading was that the baby was my career. I was working my way through my painful job to have my career, which was coming very soon, but wasn't going to be an easy beginning. Maybe the fact that my sister Ashley is about five months along with her baby girl might have planted the seed in my mind. What do ya'll think?

I'm a Neutral elven wizard

2005-03-06T17:59:00.000-05:00

Interesting...

Try it for yourself.

Wow... that's embarassing...

2005-03-04T17:03:00.000-05:00

Ouch...

The Poor of Mind
And the Survey Says: 60%
You are not rich in knowledge of the written word, but at least you weren't in the last category - right? You know your Dr. Seuss, but when it comes to anything over two hundred pages or multisyllabic words you turn away. Just remember: books are your friends. They don't bite as long as you don't.

Ok guys, here is where you make me feel better:

Please... I can't really suck THAT bad!

There for the grace of God...

2005-03-04T14:11:00.000-05:00

...lay my name.

I can't even remember what year it was. It was 7th grade, if I recall correctly. I could barely picture a face to go with the name in the newspaper. Her name was Christina Root, and, if I remembered right, she was the quiet, thin girl with permed brown hair who sat at the same lunch table as a few acquaintances of mine. They told me she was dead; a man had killed her while she was babysitting. At that first moment, it meant so little to me.

The day of the funeral, I got a note from my grandmother saying I was excused to attend it. My friend April's mom drove us to the funeral home at the end of one of the old streets of town which dead-ended on a corner of land on the bay. I helped forge a note for my friend Kim Mays, the famous "switched-at-birth" girl. We stopped by a store and I bought a bouquet of flowers with my savings from my allowance. I tucked the change into the tiny notecard envelope, about $98. My grandma had been concerned at first when I said I was going to do that, but easily relented after I insisted.

It was crowded. It was hot. The coffin was closed. We had to stand at the back of the room for the service. I didn't know which woman in the front row was Chris' mother. I handed her the flowers. I still wonder if she got the money. I still wonder what I meant by that anonymous gesture. She was buried near a large tree and a statue of Christ, his hands lowered and opened in gesture I saw as at once beckoning and apologetic. As if he's saying, "I'm sorry, but this is the truth, behold it."

I was seeing the school psychologist regularly at the time. I had a very hard time with bullies. I guess I was sensitive, introverted but desperate to be friendly: a deadly junior high combination. I remember telling her at the time how many things I found out I had in common with Chris and never knew it: we had babysat on the same deadly night, we both wanted to be psychologists, we had the same circle of friends yet somehow never crossed paths. I asked her, "What made her so different than me that makes her dead and not me?" I don't remember her answer.

I'd forgotten about it all.

Tuesday I was giving myself a tour of the middle school. I'll be a sub teacher there soon. Not much had changed, even the paint was the same color everywhere: a sober brown and falsely vibrant orange. One thing changed though, and I'd forgotten it was even there.

They had planted a tree in memory of Chris Root. The plague reads, "Chistina Root Class of 1997".

Her tree had grown past the roof of the building.

Why is her name on a forgotten plague and mine on a nametag? Why am I teaching at the last school she ever knew?

The greatest question isn't the meaning of life. The reasons behind our first appearance or our overall purpose isn't the big question. To ever be or have been is not as important as to be continuously, right now.

It's not "Why are we here?" It's "Why are we still here?"

Two weeks to go...

2005-03-02T18:55:00.000-05:00

So I put in my two weeks notice at Winn-Dixie. Still don't know if it was the right thing to do, at least in the short-term. I kick myself for not doing this years ago, as in right after I finished college, but what can I say? I put off my career because... well, I guess because I wanted to... shit, I didn't know what I wanted to do. I _still_ don't know what I want to do.

It is easier to know what you don't want to do. Avoiding pain is the basest of reasonings. Pain is working a cash register for hundreds of people who go crazy over apples for 20 cent and potatoes at 10 cents a pount. (Would you believe a guy actually wanted to argue to me that they were 10 cents each, not per pound? Unless he's buying one pound potatoes, he's a retard.) Pain is a dead-end job. Pain is your name on a college degree and on a tag pinned to your shirt. Pain is having a job the managment doesn't even care will be vacant.

So I'll start being availble to sub starting on March 15. Let's hope I don't end up surrounded by middle schoolers in togas brandishing daggers... "Et tu, Taylor?"

I speakin' English good!

2005-02-28T23:37:00.000-05:00

Check it out!

"Advanced
You scored 93% Beginner, 86% Intermediate, 100% Advanced, and 61% Expert!"

I'm getting rusty, in all honesty. (You probably know; you're getting to read my raw writing in every post. Ummm... raw writing...)

Random Pre-Bowling Thoughts

2005-02-25T18:19:00.000-05:00

Maybe I shouldn't use my usual saying after I direct customers to the restrooms: "Have a good one!"

So far so good on the subbing thingie. I go in Tuesday for "orientation" and watching a video on sexual harrassment. Hopefully the examples will be as funny as the fifteen year old video I had to watch today at Winn-Dixie about "Selling through Sampling". "Wear special clothes if you're demotrating a product. Wear a red bow tie and, if your store has one, a cumberbun." "Try our Check brand diet cola. Taste the refreshing flavor of Nutrasweet." Gug... Nutrasweet...

They come in threes...

2005-02-23T18:56:00.000-05:00

First, I didn't lose my job over my co-manger being a moron and not passing messges fully along.

Second, a week later the pharmacist at our store comes up to me and offers me a full-time pharmacy tech position. It would give me better hours and a pay increase. (Yes, the pharmacy tech makes more than the photo lab manager... whatever.) I'll probably start training next week. (I think they're nuts, personally. No wonder the company filed Chapter 11; the upper management is completely retarded.)

Third, today I got a messege from the school board. They want me to come in for a drug test, fingerprinting, and background check to become a subsitute teacher. I probably won't be getting a raise in pay, and the hours will probably be sporadic at best. However, it's what I (dear and holy God) went to college for. No more "Chrissy" nametag or asking for their loyalty card (which just sounds like a Nazi tool to me: "Yah, show your fatherland loyalty card, comrade!") I'll be wearing business casual, being addressed by my surname, and holding (just a tiny bit of self-imagined) absolute power!

I actually asked my friend Natan about what it's like to sub. I'd have to say that Natan, for those who don't know him, reminds me a lot of Harley, for those who know Harley. Natan said the job sucks, and told a story about a skinny white kid in North Port (a little cracker town about to get its own Wal-Mart) adressing thusly: "Wud up, dawg". His response was, "I am not your dog. Please sit down." Yep, all that will be mine, too.

Am I back yet?

2005-02-14T11:48:00.000-05:00

I returned from my honeymoon refreshed and invigorated. Just a few days later I'm already unsure and afraid. My mind blazed once more for a while. I felt sure that I again was brimming with the ideas and drive that usually I only try to make others believe I have. Timarie terrifies me, and not in the manner in which one might think. Am I intimitated by my own facade? Do I not think I can be what I sell myself as? Why did I panic when threatened with losing my shitty job? It's like an abusive lover threatening to leave. You're unsure if you really need him, but you're terrified to learn the hard way that you do. I haven't added a single word to Timarie since November. I was happy the outline was done, and content to let it simmer in my mind until after everything with the wedding was taken care of. I'm running out of excuses. I should be facing my fear. What's the worst outcome? That I'm as bad as I think I am and a worse person for trying to convince people otherwise. Somehow that seems a great sin to me: upselling yourself. I feel as if I owe others more credit than that, than to try to force them to believe I am what I wish to be and not what I know I am.

The optimist in me says I'm being my old silly self for measuring the weight of my self-worth on the opinion of others. It points my eyes to "cult classics" and the like which, in my weakly educated opinion, suck on many levels, but are adored by those who love them. Is there a tiny fanbase for me somewhere? A few lonely souls who would be drawn to those I write about and the mood and meaning I swaddle them in? Education tells me that anything written is worthless without meeting its audience. Timarie is still mute and paralyzed. If I can only collect my wits again, I can start. Somehow I feel like Dr. Frankenstein worrying that no one will find his creature attractive or intriging. Hidieous as it was, it did ned up being very well spoken...

Oh, and happy St. Valentine's Day.

Wedded and Returned!

2005-02-13T01:49:00.000-05:00

*First post as Mrs. McCoy*

You can see pictures of the wedding on Chris' blog and here (The password is frodo).

Woooootttt drinks Whoooooooo

2005-01-22T15:20:00.000-05:00

My bridal party by day/bachorlette party by night starts in an hour. I have been confined to my room for the next hour as they set up. I'm drinking lots of fluids and playing hookie from work. I have been given a Big Pouch (yummy big pouch!) of CapriSun and chocolate (Who loves the chocolate?!) as offerings... that or their true purpose to to lay beside me of the sacrifical alter to be given to the goddess of Non-Nightmarish Weddings. Pray for me. Should I last the night, I think I can make it next Saturday. Oh God... next Saturday.

Hopefully after that I'll be able to turn off the instinct/impulse to search constantly for bridal/wedding accessories. Would you beleive I was still doing it today? More hopefully, I won't turn that into a subconcious search for baby stuff. *NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOooooooooo...etc.*
Perhaps I can direct that drive back into finding LARP props and dice sets. I hope I get dice sets as a wedding gift. There's no registery on frpgames.com :-( *lol*

Off to drink! Woot, and such!

Grandma good news, bad news & Santa comes to the store

2004-12-11T01:39:00.000-05:00

Bad News: The doctors say they can't do anything more to try to restore her vision. That brief week of decent vision will probably be her last. A part of me wishes that could have happened the week of the wedding, but, like Chris said, at least she'll be there.

Good News: Still no cancer. She's been free of it, I want to say, for a year now. I don't think she could do the treatments again if she had to (nor could grandpa for that matter). At least that's great news. Did you know grandma only bothers to tell him to get out of his nightclothes and dressed when she expects company? She apologizes if I come over before he's dressed. I said we'd all be a very sorry bunch if an apology was needed for every time we had to deal with an aspect of his illness. 'Tis the nature of the beast, I figure.

Tomorrow is the first day of Santa portraits at the store. Hopefully my display holds up, as well as my paitence. At least I don't have to wear my damned uniform. *Poses dramatically a la Scarlett O'Hara* As God as my witness, I'll never wear a uniform again!

Did I mention that the LARP is doing a four week one-shot during Christmas break? Did I mention that it's been promised to be "crack"? Gee... Happy crack games... God bless us, every one!

Plug

2004-12-11T01:02:00.000-05:00

http://frontierwords.blogspot.com/

It's a D&D setting... And I helped!

Waiting and Procrastinating

2004-12-10T13:04:00.000-05:00

What I'm waiting for:

~My husband to come home from work with my car keys which I'd absentmindedly left in his car last night. Dumb dumb dumb.

~My temporary licence to teach, so I can start looking for a real job. I want that the most and the least. Am I wrong to fear entering a carreer? Am I wrong to still not be sure it's what I'm meant to do? Ah, the pardox of being afraid of what's good for you...

~My writing bug to bite me again. How is I have every motive in the world for wanting, needing to write, yet I feel unmotivated, tired, listless, bored and busy? What the crap, Muse.

~A time when I won't have to spent half my days off caring for my grandparents. And yet I dread that day...

~My wedding dress to be done. One more week until my first fitting. Gee!

~Christmas. Double gee!

What I'm procrastinating doing:

~Christmas shopping. I do have an honest excuse for every day I don't start, but the days slink by.

~Posting on my blog. Wait, scratch that.

~Losing weight. Watching caloric intake all day means nothing when I pack it in all night. I remember I spent one summer when I was 15 trying to get fat. I topped out at what I weight now, and I know I could weight a lot more now if I stopped caring. Oh, the things I would eat! Listen to me, I worry about my weight and how rough my hands are getting like a woman ten years older than me. Maybe I'm not procrastinating; maybe I'm ahead of the game.

~Stopping smoking. Not that really hate that I do smoke. Not that I smoke much. I know I won't be smoking in ten years. It's finding out when between now and then that I quit. Again, I have every motivation, yet am unmotivated.

~Figuring out if I'm an introvert or an extrovert. Maybe there's some online quiz.

Alright, folks, there's your update on me. How are you? And the family? Do you think Evandrew is a good name? What kind of guy is named Evandrew? What do you want Santa to bring you? What do you want from me? Why is Law and Order such a good show? What's the best oprea ever? Who loves the chocolate?!

"Tiny's Blog Sucks!"

2004-11-23T19:38:00.000-05:00

Yeah, I know. I must be the laziest blogger on Earth. I mean, what the crap, yo? Once a month, maybe, do I post? The hell's wrong with me?

Well, a brief update in what's busying the Tiny Goat so greatly:

My weeks are filled with 9-6 work, and after work four nights a week, we play one of the three games we play. One of my days off is taken with caring for my grandparents: shopping, check writing, picking up their prescriptions, doctor appointments, etc. And some nights, there's Law and Order... sweet, sweet Law and Order.

Last week, we went up to SC to send off my father-in-law with style to the Middle East. What does he do? Think James Bond, but take out all the things that would upset his wife. :-) Would you believe that when he picked up his 9mm, it was rusty?! It was a sad affair overall. It seemed that if a solider about a third of the soldiers had little children or babies to say good-bye to. One army wife looked like she was about to have a baby any moment. One private was showing everyone the ultrasound of his baby, still too small to determine its gender. I haven't been the closest with my father-in-law. Not because we have any issues with each other, not at all, but I guess I'm just a really casual person. It's rare that I get really worked up about getting to know someone, so, it's not that I take awhile to get close to someone, it's that being as emotionally intimate as possible with people besides my husband isn't my main goal. Still, I'm going to miss the big Q-tip.

I finished the Timarie outline last month, and haven't touchd it since. Shame on me. In fact, I haven't done much of anything in the way of writing. Double shame on me. I could blame it on how distracting work has been as of late. I leave work just feeling so wiped out emotionally and physically. I just feel like my brain goes numb after 6pm. I can't wait to get the edits back from Harley's anthology. I know my piece needs major work, but I haven't had the mental energy to want to sit down and take a serious look at it myself. It looks so messy to me that I don't even know where to start. I'm hoping when the edits some back, it will give me some direction.

My mind's been buzzing with LARP stuff. Yeah, I do that silly fashion show that dares call itself a role-playing game. Even more dippy, we play Changling. Yes, fairies. The game is atually exceedingly kick ass with easily the best STs I've ever had, Jess and her fiance Natan. They're awesome people who make awesome coffee. And when you're LARPing late into the Halloween night, a good ST and a godd coffee are all you need in life.

Its Husband bought it a beautiful ring today, for no reason. I love sapphires, but certainly not as much as I love my thoughful, wonderful husband. Loves its husband!

Ok, enough disgusting mushy talk. :-)

Now to go catch up on what the rest of the internet has been doing. Peace.

Happy Getting-Your-Vote-Ignored-Again Day

2004-11-02T20:05:00.000-05:00

Bored... It's nice though. Better than being overworked. Thus, I give you, dear singular reader, a little something.

To Necro I go!

2004-10-14T20:27:00.000-04:00

*Pukes in pants*

No, really. I love public speaking and posing as being more talented/famous/well-read/interested than I really am.

*vomits*

It'll be great.

Though I do believe I have discovered the moment when I know I have truely made it big: if I ever go to a con and someone comes there for the sole purpose of telling me how much I suck, then, my friends, have I truly arrived.

I say it's my birthday...

2004-10-12T18:14:00.000-04:00

It's my birthday, too...

yeah.

Twenty-five years ago in Hollywood, California I was born. Two weeks late, of course. :-)

Happy birthday, me.

Putting It Away

2004-10-05T18:46:00.000-04:00

Since I finished the outline for the Timarie novel, I've put away all my writing. During the time I had been writing, I've been making characters (for any of the three games we're playing) and generally wasting time on things like television and actually working while at work. My mental health has improved, however there still lurks a voice within me that whines, "This is one more week of mundane work... another day in your life in which you've done nothing to further your real career... or has this become your true calling? You are getting real good at calling for customer assistance and they are making you an engraved nametag as we speak."

I shutter. I started working there in 1998. It was going to be temporary, just to keep me in college. Now, I stood in front of a cash register and said to a customer, "Yeah, I have a degree in English Lit." I hope he drove home assured that something is very wrong with the world.

I was at Necronomicon last year. I sat in on the panel on how to break into the publishing industry, and I asked the panel, "I went to school. I have the drive and desire. What is the last peice of the key to enter that holy place you are now?" Understandably, I didn't get an answer I was satisfied with.

This year, I'm sitting on that panel. What's ironic is that I still don't know the answer to that question. I know there'll be someone, probably several someones, watching us sit up there with our pitchers of water and little nametags and pondering the same question I did, "What do they have that I don't yet?" If anyone cares to save themselves the trip to Tampa, I'll tell you the answer I've prepared: "Not a damn thing."

I don't feel that I've finally "made it". I don't think I have any skill that anyone else couldn't culture or spontaneously discover within themselves.

I have this is a common belief among my peer group: the feeling that someone may discover just what a inept child you truly are and the facade will trumble and crash all around you. My nightmare is that someone will call me out while I'm up on the panel and demand I show some creditial, some tiny sliver of pure talent to attest for my presence. I feel like my degree is the slimest of fig leaves I use vainly to disguise my intellectual nudity.

I've enough self-esteem (thank you liberal upbringing) not think I suck. I've read (and written in the past) pieces that are honestly worthless aside from standing as a mile marker in the creative highway of the author's life. I revisit pieces many times over, reading them anew, and am assured once again that I do not suck. I may not consider myself the best writer, but I know my credentials as a reader are excellent, according to USF.

Which brings me to a point I like to make again that Orson Scott Card affirmed for me: one does not leran how to write by learning how to read well. I compare the path I took to learning to write to the guy who desides to make furniture because he sits on lots of couches. A big butt does not translate into a big brain.

So I've put it all away. Hopefully when I come back to Timarie, I can make USF proud.

Midnight meeting with American Standard

2004-10-02T09:42:00.000-04:00

Why...

Why...

Why does a grown person, an educated person, insist that the first Friday night she has off from work that is to be followed by Saturday off also she must drink until she's sick?

And I mean sick. Sick like after a party with community college kids sick. Painfully unfun. Ouch. I'm going back to bed.

Good News, Bad News Day

2004-09-28T23:42:00.000-04:00

This was my day:

The Boss: "Good news, you got your promotion!"
Bad news: New company policy says I can only recieve a 10% pay raise every year. What does that work out to for me: less than $9/hour. Great. I'll have to hold the position for two years to earn the same amount at the last three people did to start. Note that they each had no experience; I have six years. The next piece I'll be writing is a long letter to Human Resources.
Worse News: In my first week as official Photo Lab Manager (As opposed to unoffical as I've been for three months without my oh-so-massive 10% raise), due to my ever-helpful attitude, I was volunteered to run a cash register three days in a row. I understand they're tight for workers, but what should they expect? What functional adult would work (hard) all day for $6 (or less!) an hour knowing they wouldn't be up for a raise for a year and even then it would only be 10%?

Bad News: Chris' car began to leak.
Good News: Our DM took time out from killing my character (Thank the gods for True Res) to fix the problem. Mark rules!

Bad News: Five years ago, I was about to turn 20. Ten years ago, I was 15 years old. Ten years... I'm closer to 30 than 18. The sun is the same in a relative way, but you're older, shorter of breath and one day closer to death...
Good News: I'm getting twenty free tickets to the comedy club.
Bad News: Two drink min.
Good News: No max.

Bad News: Necro is three weeks away.
Good News: I'm very sure I can speak intellectually and entertainingly about the progress of the English language.
Bad News: I know I'll look like a wet beet impaled on a vibroblade.
Good News: At least I'll be wearing cool-ass boots. Seriously, these boots are really sweet.

Bad News: When it comes to my Timarie, I feel like Carrie. "they're all gonna laugh at you... they're all gonna laugh at you..."
Good News: Like Carrie, I can set them all on fi... Ummm... I mean I know it can't possibly be as bad as I imagine.

Best News: I get to sleep now. Sweet dark bliss...

How to Slack like a Goat

2004-09-22T20:09:00.000-04:00

How to Slack like a Goat
"How can I waste my time like you, Great Goatly One?" I hear my masses call up to me.

"Surely, I shall empart to you, O Brothers, the right and Goatly methods of wasting time. First thou shalt find the connection to the great beyond, this crowded void called the internet. Once this is done, go forth to these places and there thou shall finds hours of your lives gone:

http://www.whatsbetter.com
Where else can you confirm to yourself that Rob Zombie is better than Abercrombie & Fitch? And realize that most people disagree with you?
Or that Meatloaf the singer is worse than Dragonlance... and they agree with you...

The Best Thread on the Wizards Boards (since my writing thread was deleted :-) )
You know you want to figure out how to be a REAL player.

Damn my mom. I hate Lifetime television with all its rape victims and cop moms and husbands that deserve to die. Why is thier game so addictive? Why can't I get past level 13?

Concept Art.org
An excellent spot to lurk. Peek at sweet art, learn how to give crits, and get to know for a fact that God gives enough talent to either write fine literature or create visual art. I'm always surprised how kicking art can come from someone who has bad grammar even for an AOL kid.

http://www.albinoblacksheep.com/
Some are annoying. Some are stupid. Some I doubt I could ever understand in a million years. But all, at least for a moment, are... interesting.

C3E
Interesting to see what other people are coming up with. There's some really neat ideas here. There's also some disgusting crack that any DM worth his/her dice would laugh a player off the table for bringing in.

Go forth now. Lose yourselves!"

How to Slack like a Goat

2004-09-22T19:41:00.000-04:00

"How can I waste my time like you, Great Goatly One?" I hear my masses call up to me.

"Surely, I shall empart to you, O Brothers, the right and Goatly methods of wasting time. First thou shalt find the connection to the great beyond, this crowded void called the internet. Once this is done, go forth to these places and there thou shall finds hours of your lives gone:

http://www.whatsbetter.com
Where else can you confirm to yourself that Rob Zombie is better than Abercrombie & Fitch? And realize that most people disagree with you?
Or that Meatloaf the singer is worse than Dragonlance... and they agree with you...

The Best Thread on the Wizards Boards (since my writing thread was deleted :-) )
You know you want to figure out how to be a REAL player.

Damn my mom. I hate Lifetime television with all its rape victims and cop moms and husbands that deserve to die. Why is thier game so addictive? Why can't I get past level 13?

Concept Art.org
An excellent spot to lurk. Peek at sweet art, learn how to give crits, and get to know for a fact that God gives enough talent to either write fine literature or create visual art. I'm always surprised how kicking art can come from someone who has bad grammar even for an AOL kid.

http://www.albinoblacksheep.com/
Some are annoying. Some are stupid. Some I doubt I could ever understand in a million years. But all, at least for a moment, are... interesting.

C3E
Interesting to see what other people are coming up with. There's some really neat ideas here. There's also some disgusting crack that any DM worth his/her dice would laugh a player off the table for bringing in.

Go forth now. Lose yourselves!"

Old People, Once My Loved Ones

2004-09-21T15:27:00.000-04:00

I spend at least two hours every day that I have off from work visiting my grandparents. It was them and my father who raised me. It's a damn shame of the worst kind that, now that I'm old enough to possibly appreciate them, they've deteriorated to the point where they no longer are the people I loved as a child.

My grandfather worked the graveyard shift at an airplane manufacturer. My grandma worked out of our apartment, managing the complex. My father… I’m not sure what he did for a living, but it took up most of his time. Between the three of them, I was raised in a home that was brimming with social interaction with adults, books of every caliber, and the stability so vital and so rare that a child needs.

My father still works very hard, with overtime every week, at a job I still don’t quite understand. (It’s something about designing and building water osmosis machines.) My grandparents have retired been for 15 years now. They wanted to live in Florida, away from the city and the loud bangs at night that I never believed were all cars backfiring. One could say that I grew up in California, but I matured in Florida.

My grandpa has Alzheimer’s disease; my grandma is essentially blind. Though expensive drugs and surgeries have offered some hope since they both began to deteriorate, honestly, there’s been no improvement.

My grandma was an emotionally stout woman. She’d zap junkies with her stun gun and iron socks in the same day. Cooking from scratch, dealing with thousands of dollars in rent money, chasing off loiterers, watering the shrubs, and taking care of me were daily tasks she took to with gusto. Now she stumbles. After surviving lung cancer with little emotional assistance from her increasingly ill husband, she is tethered to an oxygen tank. She feels her way through cooking, but cooking now involves more microwave button pressing than flour, eggs, or mashing potatoes. She’s memorized the microwave buttons… Despite how sad it is, it’s a little amazing, too.

Grandpa… the first time I realized something was wrong with him was last February. He said to me over breakfast that he was somewhat concerned that we lived so near the beach, because al-Qaeda could land on the beach and take it with ease. I couldn’t explain to him the hundreds of ways to disregard such a silly worry; nothing would shake his logic, his certainty that his family could be in danger. Then he began insisting that he had known Chris before I did and had met his many other girlfriends, though he couldn’t recall exactly where he’d known him from or how they met. He ribbed me about knowing “all” these girls he once dated. Chris never met him before we started dating and has definitely never had “tons” of girlfriends.

Regardless, this is something I’ve been dealing with. I sometimes long for what some people think Alzheimer’s is: the drooling catatonic old man, or the silly aunt who wanders off and forgets to wear pants. Those states are what people want to remember their loved ones with the disease being like. My grandpa is motiveless, maddingly illogical, and sedentary. He sees nothing wrong with grandma taking care of his every need.

His logic is irredeemably broken. He is an emotional leach. May I take a moment here to thank God for Zoloft? Of all things he did during is service during WW II, he spent about two months crying daily about a single German soldier he had a face off with and shot. I wrote a poem about it:

My Senile Hero

No victory in war.
No joy in their death.
No delight in your life.
No gauze to wrap the mettle
Of your heart
As you layed then
On the bloody shore,
As you lie now
Within the sparse mire of memories
Muddled by time’s coarse currents.

You do not know peace.
You do not know youth.
Your age is a badge of glory.
Your mind is a windstorm-worn stone,
The fleshy tombstone
For those German boys
Who will never see their mothers again.
Tears wash their monuments
In a place only you go
In a place only you see:
A dead path of bereavement, uninheritable.

I do not know that place.
I do not see those boys.
I do not know mandatory manslaughter.
I do not know the price of this state.
I only know the ignorance
Born of living during
An enlightened, undemanding era.
Your spirit darkened, burned like dusty, yellowed wood
The once fresh flesh of saplings,
To foster those who will forget
What they will never know.
Never will we, given that you did.

If you care to read another piece I wrote while I lived with them, here’s a link:

Sorry that I’m such a downer today. I bought groceries for them in the rain at the old store. Something about the abandoned, melancholy state of it all smothered my mind in regret and surrendering acceptance.

Have a good one.

Don't stop now!

2004-09-16T01:17:00.000-04:00

I thought all day at work about what to post tonight. I almost didn't, but I imagined how silly and pathetic an abandoned blog with two enteries looks like...

So, as I said, I had thought all day on what to write about.

Well, I did until Chris called and gave me an assignment to keep my mind and hands busy at work. I spent three hours at work and four hours at home thinking and writing up spells for Wallace's Frontier Fantasy. I don't think I came up with anything too horrible. Perhaps they aren't the most creative things I've ever thought up, but they were spells I thought should exsist in D&D.

You know you want a free sample; give this one a taste:

PHISCO’S DAY OF TRICKS

Transmutation

Level: Brd 4, Sor/Wiz 5

Components: V, S, M

Casting Time: 1 standard action

Range: Touch

Target, Effect, or Area: One creature or object

Duration: 24 hours

Saving Throw: Will negates (harmless, object)

Spell Resistance: Yes (harmless, object)

This spell was created by an elderly mage who had a practical joke streak and loved children. He would often bestow this ability upon his grandchildren to play practical jokes upon the other children, all for good fun and his odd sense of amusement.

The target gains the ability to cast prestidigitation as a spell like ability at will. The spell like ability acts in all ways like the spell prestidigitation. Objects, mindless creatures, and creatures with less than a 3 Int cannot willfully activate this spell, but random effects occur every 1d10 minutes within 5 feet of the target.

I cannot help but wonder about something. It's common enough even without boundaries of any kind for ideas to overlap, even when their creators have little or no mutual inspiration or influence. Now how many times does it happen that individuals come up with the same ideas when provided with the same framework? Now, again, how many times will multiple people come up with the same idea, and, while one person dismisses it, another continues to work on the idea? How far can that person who choose that idea to work with take it before he or she realzies what the other already decided? When will she realize that the concept was stillborn, unworthy, dare I say stupid? Or could she kill that voice of doubt before its drone smothers the faint sound of life still fluttering within that fragile idea?

Hopefully it will be before that one disregarded the idea decides that it maybe wasn't such a bad idea after all.

P.S. From bitching about my weight to pseudo-intellectual Hamlet-esque wishy-washiness: maybe they were right 150 years ago about educating women.

I am Woman. Watch me not eat.

2004-09-14T18:16:00.000-04:00

It is said that you can understand a person by the little decisions they make. It's said that when you understand the reasoning behind those tiny, daily choices, that is when you truely understand a person.

I went to a shopping plaza with the initial intent to get lunch and a haircut. Nothing retricted any of my choices aside from my own internal cheapskate. Haircut (plus shampoo I felt beholden to buy after hearing the hairdresser's life story): $39 with tip.

For lunch, I had two obvious options: Taco Bell or Great Wall Chinese Buffet.

I love Great Wall Chinese Buffet. It's not that the food is excellent or the service is completely unlacking. In fact, both leave something to be desired. Why do I love this place? It has exactly the dishes I like, no more and no less. Since the selection is small, so too are the crowds. An afternoon lunch for $7 while eating Happy Family and reading my PHB without old men peering over my shoulder is priceless.

I also love Taco Bell, my first fast food love. When you're a child, you don't have much choice about where you eat. I recall in my childhood eating at McDonald's a lot. I know I wasn't crazy about the place, and I certainly know my grandparents would rather eat somewhere without a playball pit. As a poor high school student, an even poorer college student, and an even cheaper twenty-something, I still love Taco Bell. Despite the fact that I may never forgive them for discontinuing the chili-cheese burrito, Taco Bell is still my default fast food stop.

So after sitting for two hours, wet, yanked on, and hungry, where do I eat? No where.

Why? I'd been talking with the hairdresser about the upcoming wedding. Of course, anyone who can make any cash off your wedding wants to hear every damn detail (or at least pretend very well that they do). My wedding dress isn't made yet. In fact, the dressmaker isn't going to take my measurements until next month. So what's the worry: I realzied I've gained 25 lbs. since 1999.

My mind, or at leasts the parts of it which embraced my liberal college experinece, tells me, "So what? Chris didn't love you then; he loves you now as you are. He didn't even know you then. And remember what your roommate, your only female friend then and your Matron of Honor, said, 'You were too thin.' One hundred and ten pounds on your 5'4" frame is too little. You were sick and miserable and pale. You weighted that little because you couldn't afford to eat and didn't want to take time out from partying. You are a healthy, educated woman who is not insecure about her body, not bending to the pressure to keep up an unhealthy, unnatural weight, and certainly not going to give yourself the pain of walking around hungry half the day and inviting your acid-reflux to pound in your chest."

Yet, I sit here hungry. Dinner is about ready now. There's no way I'll turn down what's cooking, yet, as I feel the burn of an empty stomach, there's a tiny voice within. A squeaky, snotty-toned voice with a pitch only those living in the shadow of early puberty can emit says to me, "Feels good, don't it? Knowing you made a little step to get skinny." Excuse me while I stuff a warm, homemade meal down its throat.

First Post Dance

2004-09-14T13:16:00.000-04:00

So, here I am: Christina Talley.

What does that mean?

I'm 24 years old. My BA is in English Literature with background studies in Mass Communications. I'm getting married on January 29th, 2005 to Chris McCoy (known online as Alrunic Silverfyre). While I pretend to work at manging a one-hour photo lab, I've been writing my first novel summary: seventeen thousand words of "summary". Anyone care for some reading material?

Here's a sample:

She couldn’t feel if she was crying anymore. There was no cold or warmth to the night as it rolled over her body. Timarie felt nothing. She heard nothing. Then there was a slight movement, the scent of wet grass and dirt replaced by dust and the musk of horses. Then there was rest. She sunk back down again. If she had collected her numb thoughts, molded them into words, she would have thought, “I wish I was dead.”

It looked like she’d fainted and no one had noticed. Dialan ran his hand through her hair. They were about to be scattered to the wind. This beautiful woman who he had lived with everyday of his life would be gone. He knew Nary was to blame. No doubt she’d found some way of killing him. Probably poison, with all those herbs she had. Or perhaps a gnome with his magics. Regardless, she did it. He knew he’d helped her too. Her hatred has caused the master to die, but it was Dialan’s own actions that probably made it happen. Nary had warned him that she was sure the master’s marriage had not been consummated, which would mean the entire house would be divided up among the other wizards, possibly as soon as the rites were finished. Nary said she would find him, he was sure she could. How could he ever find Timarie though? He pressed his face against hers, feeling her breath on his lips. “I swear I will find you. I’ll love you and you’ll be my wife. And curse everything else.”

Life in School

I have now seen the worst people on Earth

Happiness

Yeah, I LARP, but...

A fun little thing

I felt dark, I guess

Somethings...

Brilliant!

So...

Strange Dreams

More school talk & Project Talk

For my husband, and any other (water)closed celiacs out there:

To whoever you are...

A note on spellcheck.

More Chrissy Brand Irony

Back to School/Work

Need more of the goat?

On a lighter note

The hospital called...

I...

Updates!

My Niece

Good News, Bad News

I made a cake

Speak of the sister...

Here they come!

My completely unbiased opinion

As promised!

Note to husband

Just another tiny reason why the war in Iraq sucks

Ten Pieces of Advice for Myself at 18

*gee*

Sleep won...

No more television!

:(

Empty... room...

Sorry, Mario, The job is at another school...

Weird...

Congrats to Harley! (And why Winn-Dixie is dumb)

When Flexibility Sucks

All's well

Being shy and popular

Mental Health Day, my ass...

In case you didn't know...

What I did at work today

Legally Stoned & Watching YOUR Kids!

Fun Crap

Crap Ass

How I spent my Spring Break

Update!

A Day Without Shoes

*Phew* No work

One Hour Service is not available

I'm a Neutral elven wizard

Wow... that's embarassing...

There for the grace of God...

Two weeks to go...

I speakin' English good!

Random Pre-Bowling Thoughts

They come in threes...

Am I back yet?

Wedded and Returned!

*Woooootttt* *drinks* *Whoooooooo*

Grandma good news, bad news & Santa comes to the store

Plug

Waiting and Procrastinating

"Tiny's Blog Sucks!"

Happy Getting-Your-Vote-Ignored-Again Day

To Necro I go!

I say it's my birthday...

Putting It Away

Midnight meeting with American Standard

Good News, Bad News Day

How to Slack like a Goat

How to Slack like a Goat

Old People, Once My Loved Ones

Don't stop now!

PHISCO’S DAY OF TRICKS

I am Woman. Watch me not eat.

First Post Dance

gee

Phew No work

Woooootttt drinks Whoooooooo