01. I've decided that June/Early July 2009 can SUCK MY BUTT. I get mad at myself when I cry (long, psychology-laden story, tl;dwt), and I've cried A LOT lately.

Yesterday, my mom decided that she needed to wash and pack all of the clothes that I'm taking to San Francisco (15 SHIRTS? THAT'S NOT ENOUGH! WHERE ARE YOUR OTHER JEANS! YOU NEED MORE THAN SIX PAIRS OF UNDERPANTS! DID YOU FORGET PAJAMAS? THAT SHIRT IS UGLY! SORRY I BLEACHED YOUR BLACK SOCKS SO NOW THEY'RE BROWN! DON'T WORRY I'VE IRONED ALL OF YOUR TSHIRTS AND LINT-ROLLED THEM YOU DON'T WANT YOUR FRIENDS TO THINK YOU'RE A SLOB!), so I go over to her house, and she's got daytime television on. No problem. I make fun of the guy who plays Ridge on The Bold And The Beautiful (OMG HE IS THE CREEPIEST CREEPER WHO EVER CREEPED BLECH) and tell her I hate The View (SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP JFC). All of the commercials for the Michael Jackson Memorial kept coming on, and I just did not want to watch it. I have a hard enough time with empathy for others' grief, but to have my own and watch that was just too much. I told her that, and she's like, "Well, we're watching it."

I cried, a lot. The song "Smile" makes me cry anyway, and Jermaine made it a billion times worse. Maya Angelou's poem kinda broke my heart. Don't even get me started on Paris Katherine. After it was over, I said, "I didn't want to see that, because... you know," and my mom was like, "Yeah, because of his kids." I just gaped at her and said, "NO. Because of her," and then broke down completely.

HEY MOM, REMEMBER THE CAT I HAD FOR 16 YEARS? THE ONE WHO HAD TO BE PUT TO SLEEP A MONTH AGO? YEAH, I'M STILL NOT OVER THAT. LOOK, I FEEL BAD FOR MICHAEL JACKSON'S FAMILY AND STUFF, BUT MY WHOLE "THING" IS A LITTLE MORE DIFFICULT FOR ME THAN YOU THINK. MAJOR DEPRESSIVE DISORDER MAKES EVERYTHING SAD 120398712093857109283 TIMES WORSE. SORRY FOR BEING SELFISH AND HAVING SOME PROBLEMS. MY B. >:[

My final say on the matter is this: he is now at peace. No one can hurt him any more.

02. Who watches the Watchmen? I DID. I thought it was great, tbh. I didn't really have any expectations going into it other than I hoped that it was as visually stunning as the graphic novel, and it delivered on that count. For the most part, I liked the subtle changes made with the story, but I have to say that (OH GOD HOW DO I DISCUSS WITHOUT SPOILING UM CRAP) the, uh, thing at the end? you know, with the guy and the thirty-five minutes ago? I didn't like that so much. Sure the thing in the novel was goofy, but I didn't like the way the guy was blamed for the thing in the movie.

Rorschach is still my favorite, but Dr Manhattan is my second favorite. I thought Billy Crudup did an excellent job with the character. In the novel, it didn't seem like Dr Manhattan felt anything for anyone, but in the movie, he's much more human, which gives a whole new facet to the character. You can actually feel his humanity slipping away, rather than having the impression that it's already gone.

As great as the novel is, I felt that the movie lent a greater complexity to the characters, which I think can be attributed to the actors. A++++++ movie, would watch again.

03. I also watched Night At The Museum 2, which was good, except I have one nitpick: two paintings that are shown to be at the Smithsonian Museum are not actually located there. American Gothic and Nighthawks are in the Chicago Art Institute. Know how I know? I SAW THEM WITH MY OWN TWO EYES. Fail, movie people. FAIL.

04. Finally, a meme stolen from whoa_what: ( Answer me this )

CWIDT?

Well, I didn't make the deadline for the magazine. Even though Jody was a total hero and came through for me like a trooper, it didn't happen.

Ah, well.


IOU JODY 1 ICECREAM CONE OR GHIARDELLI CHOCOLATE BAR IN FLAVOR OF YOUR CHOICE. OR I WILL BE YOUR PRISON BITCH FOR THE DURATION OF OUR VISIT TO ALKATRAZ. OR BOTH, THAT'S COOL TOO.

SHIT YOU GUYS HOLY
YOU GUYS HOLY SHIT
GUYS HOLY SHIT YOU

IDK OTHER PERMUTATIONS THEREOF

I GOT THIS ACTUAL EMAIL IN MY ACTUAL INBOX LAST NIGHT:

Hi Ali_jayne,

I am a photo editor at Newsweek magazine in New York. I'm
working on a story about cool fireworks, which will run in
next week's issue, timed to the Fourth Of July holiday. We
really like your shot of the pink saturn fireworks and we're
wondering if we could use it in our story.

Unfortunately this is a really last-minute request so I'm
hoping you have the time to discuss this today. We're
willing to offer you credit for the picture and $200 for its
use in the magazine. Please give me a call or an email as
soon as you can. Thank you.

Here is all my contact information:

(BLAH BLAH LEGIT NEWSWEEK EMAIL AND PHONE NUMBER AND ADDRESS AND SHIT)

THIS IS THE PHOTO:


YOU GUYS, I HAD TO PSP8 THE SHIT OUTTA THAT, AND I'M STILL ASHAMED BUT NEWSWEEK WANTS IT AND WHO AM I TO JUDGE WHAT A NATIONALLY-READ MAGAZINE WANTS I MEAN CHRIST

BUT HERE'S THE KICKER THEY WANT A HI-RES COPY OF THE PHOTO AND MY GODDAMN HD ATE IT AND I CALLED JODY TO SEE IF SHE HAS IT BUT IT'S LIKE 7:30 IN THE MORNING THERE AND IF I WERE HER I'D KILL ME FOR DARING TO CALL SO EARLY BUT IT'S $200 THAT I COULD USE ON MY VAY-CAY AND SORRY JODY I'LL BUY YOU AN ICE CREAM CONE WITH MY $200 THAT I WILL HOPEFULLY GET

AND I ACTUALLY LEGIT CALLED NYC AND LA WITHIN THE SPAN OF 15 MINUTES AND NOW I FEEL ALL WORLD-TRAVEL-Y LIKE I AM SOME BIGSHOT WHO GETS THEIR SHITTY PHOTOS PUT ON WEBSITES AND IN MAGAZINES

HOLY SHIT YOU GUYS
SHIT YOU GUYS HOLY
YOU GUYS HOLY SHIT
GUYS HOLY SHIT YOU

THAT'S A POEM NOW AND IT'S ™ ME SO DUN STEEL AND I'M GOING TO SELL THAT SHIT TO A MAGAZINE OR A BOOK OR SOME SHIT LIKE THAT

HATERS CAN GO TO THE LEFT
←

It has finally reached a summer-like temperature here. I'm not saying I'm happy about this. I just feel like the longer it takes for the summer temps to arrive, either A) the hotter it will get, or B) the longer it will stay hot. Probably both.

I have the fan on "HI" and the cats are laying around like rags draped across cool surfaces. I have the air conditioners in the windows, but I haven't yet turned them on. I guess it might be time, although I like the fact that fresh air comes in the windows. We all need fresh air.

In other news, I am really, really broke. I had to do some of the old "robbing Peter to pay Paul" account transfers to pay a few bills, and to be able to buy groceries. On top of that, my car insurance is due July 10, I have a $215 ER doctor bill and a $100 Radiology bill to pay on top of the $800 ER bill from the hospital. I also have to give Visa something for my credit card. I honestly have no idea what to do about this situation. It's like I'm worried, but it's a helpless kind of worry. I know there's nothing I can really do to remedy the situation save stop eating, cancel everything, and sell all of my worldly possessions on eBay. And let's face it, I like to eat and selling things on eBay is such a hassle.

On Monday, the vet's office called and told me Sushi was ready to be picked up. I had a good cry over that one. On one hand, I needed to bring her home, where she belongs, with me. On the other hand, if I didn't go get her, I could continue pretending she was just in another room, avoiding me because she was pouting over something. Bringing her home made it real. I ended up going to get her. I stood there in the vet's office, my mouth set in a tight straight line. I knew that if I looked around, or made eye contact with other people, I might lose it. The receptionist kept saying "I'm sorry" to me, and I just gave her the half-smile that I reserve for those who make me uncomfortable. She finally found the remains, and for some reason, needed to open everything up and show me right there in the office, all the while saying, "I'm sorry", in a tone that I'm sure she thought sounded sincere, but did not to my ears. I just wanted to say, "Give me my cat," so I could get the hell out of there before embarrassing myself.

Now she's home. My mom said, "You can put the box on your mantle next to her picture," but I didn't. She's on the pillow she liked to lay on on my bed. That way, I can reach out and touch her if I need to. That probably sounds a bit crazy, but for some reason, it makes me feel better. I guess that's what counts in this situation.

Before I completely stop rambling, I want to thank itsbeenvery for the card. I really appreciate it, G. ♥

To everyone who has wished me luck, given support and hugs, and their sympathy and love, I just want to say thank you. I really can't bring myself to look at those posts and reply to individual comments (oh, wow, I sound like a douche), but I want you to know that I read them all and took them to heart and I love you all.

I did it. I took her this morning and the vet said she had kidney failure and that I was making the right decision.

It took me a whole minute to sign the form because I was shaking so badly.

As the vet was drawing up the medication, my mom said, "I'm sorry, I can't be in here, I can't do this." So I was by myself. But I'm not angry or hurt. She kept apologizing for letting me down, but I've come to the conclusion that this was something I had to do alone.

I held her tight and she went and I cried on her soft head. From the way I was shaking, it looked as though she was still breathing. I knew she wasn't, though, because her tail wasn't flipping constantly like it always did. That's how I knew it was over.

I brought an ink pad and some paper with me and made a print of her paw. See, when my mom and I went to the shelter, my mom kept saying, "Look over here at these orange kittens," and as I went to follow, a little paw reached out and caught my jacket. She chose me with that paw, and I want it tattooed on me, forever, to remind me that with that one touch, my life was forever changed.

I am grateful.



I don't want to sleep. When I wake up, she won't be here. Right now, it's easy to pretend she's in another room. But in the morning, when I call her name, I won't hear her answer me. I don't know if I can take that silence.

I am broken.

IDEK how may of you will read this, but I have to get it out.

My cat, Sushi, is dying. Yesterday when I got up, I saw her chilling on the kitchen floor like usual, but when I called her name, she couldn't lift up her head. She has to stop and rest to cross a room. She's so thin, you can see her heart beat, and now she only drinks when I physically take her to the water dish.

I called my mom, who came over, and she and I talked for a while. She told me that she hoped that Sushi would just pass on in her sleep. I kept saying, "But I don't want her to suffer," and I don't. But this is where I feel selfish: I don't want to have to make that terrible awful decision to have her put to sleep; I want her to die at home in peace. I just have the feeling that she's not going to go that easily. "One more day," I keep telling myself. "Just give it one more day." How many do I wait? How long do I watch her suffer?

How do I do this? How do I take my best friend somewhere and give up on her? She's 16 years old, and has been with me her whole life. That satiny fur has soaked up many a tear. That warm little body has given many hugs, and received a great deal more. We've shared turkey subs, red popsicles, and cookies. I once told fizzyblogic that if it weren't for my cats, and especially Sushi, I would have killed myself long ago. But I knew I couldn't leave them behind. I couldn't leave her behind.

I need her.

I know this is my decision, but I don't want to make it. I'm angry that I even have to do this at all. I want her to live longer! We're not done yet! My heart has broken into a million pieces because I know what I have to do and I don't want to betray her like this. The injection doesn't hurt, but having her go knowing that I let her down...



I'm not asking for sympathy here. I'm just... letting it out. I think maybe I know what to do. I think that I'm doing what is best for my friend, my confidante, my heart.


I love you, Sushi. More than you'll ever know. You're a good girl.

SEAGULLS.

I have never liked seagulls. Growing up in an area that enjoyed (and I use that term loosely) both water-seagulls (on Lake Erie) and land-seagulls (the ones that live in the mall parking lot), I can say that I have experienced both, and have affection for neither.

Water-seagulls are loud and scary and give you evils when all you want to do is enjoy the nice breeze off of the water. They dive-bomb your car with gigantic poop splotches that take more than one car wash to clean. They try to peck at you when you're taking a nice walk on a pier to look for pretty lake rocks. They're bastards, plain and simple.

But no matter how bastard-y water-seagulls are, land-seagulls are so much worse.

This is my main story that I tell when people ask, "What's so bad about seagulls?". You really want to know? OKAY.

I was five or six, and with my mom and grandma at a mall in Toledo. We're walking out to the car after shopping, and my mom and grandma are talking away, and I'm having a good look around. I spy what looks to be someone's abandoned sandwich, just chilling on the blacktop. "Yuck," I think. Especially because it was summer, and IDC what kind of sandwich that was, it's gonna be NASTY after laying in the sun for a while.

From above, on one of the parking lot lights, comes the distinctive call of the Parking-Lot-Seagull. "AAR!" it says, and I hear triumph in that cry. I realize the seagull has spotted The Sandwich. It dives from on high, and pecks at The Sandwich. I can't look away; much like a train wreck, the absolute disgust and fascination I feel are in equal measures. When the seagull tries to pick up The Sandwich, I see that that is No Ordinary Sandwich. It is A Bologna Sandwich, which makes me even more disgusted.

"AAR!" I hear again, from another lamppost. Another seagull has spotted The Bologna Sandwich and has decided to make it its own. The new seagull dives and snaps at The Bologna Sandwich as the other seagull tries to make off with the circle of processed meat. I cringe; a fight over rancid parking-lot bologna ensues. I can't look away, even though the sight makes me want to run. Finally, my attention is broken when my mom helps me into the car.

We drive away, and all I can think is, "Bologna Sandwich. Bologna Sandwich? Bologna Sandwich!"

BOLOGNA SANDWICH.

Now I have another reason to hate land-seagulls. Tonight, I'm driving home from my knit-a-long, and see three bigger birds flying over the highway. Two of the birds look white, and one is brown. Suddenly, the brown one drops like a stone. I drive closer, and realize that two FUCKING SEAGULLS have attacked a female Mallard duck. As I passed, she lay in the road, clearly injured. It was still a little light out, so people saw her and were driving around, but... well. You know the end of this story. It made me cry because she was probably just protecting her ducklings and the seagulls were being bastards as per usual.

So now, whenever people ask why I hate seagulls, I'm going to say four words: "BOLOGNA SANDWICH. MAMA DUCK." And they'll get it.

BTW, this is my new emoticon that accurately represents how my face looks 90% of the time
:I
Colon, capital "I", in case you're wondering. My default face expression is not quite a frown, but my mouth does turn down at the corners a little. And I have the chubby cheek disease, so the serifs on the "I" make it look like my cheeks. Basically, I have a bitchface. When I get old, I'm going to look like a Bassett Hound, which is a pretty exciting prospect, tbh. I'm already about 10% of the way there.

Last week, my left calf started to hurt, REALLY BADLY, and I just thought, "NOT AGAIN." It hurt exactly like when I had the TUMAH on my sciatic nerve, which caused my left leg muscles to feel SUPER!TENSE all the time. So I started to take little walks in the afternoon to see if I could stretch out the muscle. Naturally, it got worse instead of better, because Jesus hates me.

I decided to go to the emergency room because my nurse-practitioner's office was all booked up. They took blood for tests, gave me a venus/arterial ultrasound (to check for a blood clot), and then told me I had a pulled muscle and to stay off my feet for a while. That's all fine and good, but I didn't do anything to pull it in the first place. "Staying off my feet" is my current job description. Only I could pull a calf muscle sitting in a La-Z-Boy. :(

And speaking of having my blood drawn, the lady that did it gave me one hell of a bruise. Today's Thursday, right? I went to the ER last Friday afternoon. STILL BRUISED. I AM A DELICATE GODDAMN FLOWER, BUT NO ONE BELIEVES ME.

Anyway, now I am stir-crazy because I haven't been able to go out and do anything all week. I was also enjoying my little walks, and now I'll probably get out of the habit. I even bought new tennis shoes to walk in. (LIME GREEN NIKES!)

Being stir-crazy makes me get all sorts of IDEAS, including Wanting To Dye My Hair. I haven't a clue what I want to do, though. This is where you fine people come into play. Everyone can respond, but I'm mostly asking those of you who have actually seen me in person. I suppose I could post a photo, but I AM ASHAME. If you forget what I look like, use your imagination. I'll help: Picture a round face, with a fivehead and blue eyes with the mouth looking like a capital "I", 10% Bassett Hound. My skin is pale like a goth, only not using makeup. Got it? Good. Now take the poll.

Poll #1403617 COLOR-ME-ALISON
Open to: All, detailed results viewable to: All

Quelle couleur?

So, I go to the grocery store, and I feel like getting some cheese balls and nomming on them like it's my job. As you do.

Super Walmart doesn't have regular cheese balls, so I think these (Fig. 1) will be an adequate substitute. I note to myself that the bag says, "GIANT!" but I'm thinking that they're overestimating themselves a little.


Fig. 1, GIANT! Cheetos.

I open the bag to grab a healthy handful to snack in front of Bones, and I about shat bricks. This is a photo of ONE of these motherfuckers (Fig. 2).


Fig. 2, I SHAT BRIX.

In case you still can't picture the HUGENORMOUSITY of these things, they're the approximate size and shape of your standard marshmallow (Fig. 3).


Fig. 3, A Standard Marshmallow.

Now, I ask you, WHAT IS THE POINT? You can't politely fit an entire one in your mouth, but you also can't bite one in half because they disintegrate and explode in a orange crumbly nightmare all over your computer clothes.

What's next Frito-Lay? When is too much just too much (Fig. 4)?


Fig. 4, The Logical Conclusion.

I just have to go ahead and say this, and then I won't talk about it any more:

I AM SO FUCKING AWESOME BECAUSE I REGISTERED DARTH VADER ON DREAMWIDTH AND NOW THAT FUCKER IS MINE


RECOGNIZE.


ALSO: CLICK ON THE LINK AND FRIEND ME.
ALSO ALSO: LINK ME TO YOURS.

You guys, I'm about to serve up some truth nuggets, so get your BBQ sauce and listen.

Ready? Here goes:

DON'T EVER GET OLD.

Because you will get your favorite pizza in the whole wide world, eat it slowly and savor the wonderfulness whilst watching Monty Python. Then, at 3am, when you had been asleep for probably an hour (THANKS INSOMNIA.), you will be awoken by the most excruciating pain ever known to mankind, a.k.a., INDIGESTION.

Seriously. You will feel like all the fires of Hades are burning in your esophagus, directly behind your sternum, and that if you don't burp, RIGHT THE FUCK NOW, you will most surely die. And you can't lay down, because it makes it worse, so you sit in your La-Z-Boy and moan pathetically.

And at 5:30, you finally get the bright idea to drink a Coke, because maybe it'll make you burp like you so desperately need. And you drink that Coke, and you wait. And then, miracle of miracles, you burp. And all is right with the world again.

So here's your final truth nugget of the day:

COCA-COLA SAVES LIVES.

YOU'RE WELCOME.

So, IDK how may of you know the band Pilot Speed (or, as they used to be known, Pilate), but ILTHEM SO MUCH. And I've been waiting and waiting and waiting and waiting and waiting for them to put out a new album, and now they have!

So I signed up for their e-newsletter, and I got an email that said that if I preorder their new album on iTunes, I'd get... wait for it... A SIGNED POSTER FROM THE BAND ASDFKJA;SLDKJ;LKasdKFA;SKD

Preorder their new album, preview it here, then get a free poster. DOOOO EEEEEEEET.

(SERIOUSLY? THIS ALBUM IS SO FUCKING GOOD, AND IT'S ONLY ON THE SECOND SONG. ♥)

In other music news, I preordered the Decemberists' new album on their site, and I got an autographed liner notes booklet (or w/e those things are called). NGL, I feel pretty badass. Now my official autograph collection will be THREE! SO EXCITED OKAY. (The other one is from Jason Dohring, sent to me by jiayi, who is made of pretty.)

Finally, I am going to come right out and say it: I LOVE LADY GAGA AND HER LACK OF PANTS. AND I LOVE THE SONG "POKER FACE" MOAR THAN ICE CREAM. CAN'T READ MAH, CAN'T READ MAH, NO HE CAN'T READ MAH POKER FACE, PA-PA-PA-POKER FACE, PA-PA-POKER FACE

(THIRD SONG. SO GOOD GODDAM.)

(OH JEEZ THE HARMONIES ON THIS FOURTH TRACK OH JEEZ)

see more Lolcats and funny pictures

WHY IS THIS SO FUNNY TO ME WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

Happy Birthday, vensre!!
ILU BUNCHES ♥



(I'm sorry I wasn't able to visit, but I hope you had a GR8 TIME!)

I am making this a NEW MEME. I TAG ALLA YAWL.

MAKE YO'SELF A HERO & POST IT EITHER HERE IN THE COMMENTS, OR IN YOUR OWN JOURNAL.*

Here's me:



This incorporates three of my favorite things: Star Wars, Steampunk, and richly patterned skin fabrics.

NOW GO FORTH AND MARY-SUE THYSELF.



*Warning: there is an autoplay of Bonnie Tyler singing "Holding Out For A Hero", so be warned.

So, okay.

I bought a pattern for a knit shawl from my local yarn store (henceforth known as LYS) in IDK December or something. The recommended yarn isn't carried by the store, but the owner helped me pick out a yarn that was comparable. I started knitting with this yarn, but I felt it was too thin for my tastes, and decided to purchase different yarn. Done and done; no problems.

Then, I'm reading over this pattern, right? And I'm confused almost immediately. (Imma make it easy for any non-knitters, TRUST ME.) The pattern says to start with 23 stitches. No problem. Then, the next row says to place stitch markers, which are used to separate pattern sections. The instructions (simplified here) say: Knit 2, marker, Knit 10, marker, Knit 1, marker, Knit 10, marker, Knit 2.

Now. We ALLLLLL know MATH and I are MORTAL ENEMIES!!!!! but even I can figure out that 2+10+1+10+2 = 25. (And trust me when I say that I counted SEVERAL TIMES.) So I email the pattern company and said, UH WTF? and they're all, OH IT SHOULD BE THIS, and then wrote it out the correct way.

Cool. I can knit this now, and I'm stoked. I start, and get frustrated, because the written instructions are YET AGAIN FUXORED. This time, though, I found the problem and wrote it in correctly.

Then maybe I get frustrated again because KNITTING: I'M DOING IT WRONG

I restart this thing for the 23450983498th time, and everything's going GREAT. I finish a complete pattern repeat, or one section of lace, however you want to look at it, and I'm like, ... WAIT A MINUTE. THIS IS NOT SYMMETRICAL.

(Why should I care? Because the lace is meant to look like WINGS. And I've never really gotten up-close-and-personal with a bird before, but I'm PRETTY SURE that their wings are mirror images of each other. 'Cause science tells me so.)

Googling for pattern errata tells me NOTHING. The pattern company's website tells me ZERO. So I email them again, and say, UM THIS PATTERN HAS A LOT OF TYPOS DO YOU HAVE ERRATA AVAILABLE? They email me back today and include a .doc file, which I assumed contained bunches of corrections.

Does it? NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. It's the EXACT SAME PATTERN, with the error I originally pointed out as the only correction.

GDI. I REALLY REALLY REALLY want to make this thing. I saw it once in the store, fell in love with it, but decided against it because I didn't think I was ready for lace. And then I thought, WELL WHEN WILL YOU BE READY FOR LACE JUST DOOOOO EEEEEEEET, and I bought the pattern. I've bought yarn for this thing, TWICE, as well as needles I HATE, and then needles I liked, and I've started and restarted and re-restarted and re-re-restarted and I just. want. to. SCREAM.

I'm afraid to email the pattern company AGAIN, because I don't want them to think I'm a whiny pest, but then again, I don't want to knit goofy wings.

I JUST WANNA MAKE A PRETTY IS THAT SO DIFFICULT. ;______________;

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, jiayi!

ILU JODY!


(Sorry this is late. :'()

First, I have been on LJ for FIVE YEARS! HOLY CRAP.

Second, HAVE A MEME.

[bold those books you've read in their entirety, italicize the ones you started but didn't finish]

( HURR HURR BUKS )

IDK if you guys use MegaUpload during the Happy Hour*, but they've changed the website all around and changed the times for Happy Hour.

Happy Hour is now from 9-11am GMT, which is 5-7am EDT.
- Subtract an hour for Central, two for Mountain, and 3 for Pacific. Uh, IDK beyond that. I think you guys are already at next Thursday or something.

* Megaupload has a "Happy Hour" for those who sign up for an account and download & install the toolbar (both are free). At the appointed time, you are able to enjoy the benefits of a premium membership, which basically means you can go nuts and download as much as you want, all at the same time. It used to be from 9pm-3am EDT (SIX HOURS!!!!), but has been changed to some weird time when no one will use it, and reduced the time b/c they're cheap bastards, IDK. People are either at work or sleeping.



TL;DR: MU HAPPY HOUR IS FUBAR. ABANDON SHIP. INVEST IN MEDIAFIRE.

Really. I dare you.

So, last summer, after I returned from my Chicago trip, I posted my photos on my Flicker. So then, I got an email from Schmap, which is an online guide with maps, photos, reviews and stuff for lots of different cities. They wanted to know if I'd be interested in submitting one of my photos for a contest to be included in the most recent edition of the Chicago guide.

And I'm like, LOL MY PHOTOS SUCK BUT OKAY KNOCK YOURSELF OUT.

Today, I got an email saying that they chose my photo! LOOKIT! Heh-heh. SUCKAHS!

(More specifically, the top right corner. You can also see it on your iPhone or iPod Touch, if you are so lucky.)

Now I have my five seconds of e-fame! I think I might run slightly obnoxious silly obnoxiously silly with my tiny amount of fame! Wait for it... Here it comes...

WHEEEEEEEE I M FAMUZ & U R NOT! FOUR SECONDS OF FAME 4 ME & NONE 4 U, BYEEEEEEEE!!!!

Well, that was fun. Now, back to my regular anonymity.

YOU GUYS.

There are two police cars sitting outside my house. Not one, TWO. And they're just SITTING THERE.

OMG WHAT ARE THEY DOING? GO AWAY GO AWAY GO AWAY! OMG WHY ARE THEY STILL THERE OMG OMG OMG

I SWEAR THE CHECKOUT GIRL DIDN'T SEE THAT LOTION AND I TOTALLY FORGOT PLUS IT'S WALMART THEY'LL NEVER GO OUT OF BUSINESS OVER A $2.95 BOTTLE OF LOTION

OKAY AND MAYBE TAKE A PENNY, LEAVE A PENNY IS FOR PEOPLE WHO ARE BUYING THINGS BUT I WAS SIX OR SOMETHING I DIDN'T KNOOOOOW

ARGH WHY ARE YOU STILL THERE GO AWAY YOU ARE MAKING ME FRAZZLED, DO YOU HEAR? FRAZZLED

I know I didn't do anything wrong (I was dead sleeping at the time, I swear!), but still. The po-po makes me NERVOUS. Handcuffs HURT, OKAY.

...

Okay, one just left. But the other car is STILL THERE.

BRB FRETTING. ;_____________;

FUCK MY LIFE, YOU GUYS, BECAUSE I JUST FOUND

MY FIRST GRAY HAIR

YES, I PULLED IT OUT AND IT HURT

AND NO, I DON'T CARE THAT 23981230984109238 MORE WILL SPROUT IN ITS PLACE

IT WAS AN INCH LONG, YOU GUYS

AN INCH LONG



GET OFF MAH LAWN?

01. Anyone who is a fan of knitting, Barack Obama, or Things That Are Badass & Awesome, should go here and look at the scarf this person made. It's brilliant and gorgeous, and deserves lots of praise. Sometimes, I'm really awed by the creative things that knitters can dream up, and this is definitely one of those times.

02. So, it's SOOPER DOOPER cold here. -9F, which is -24C. Not only THAT, but my handy-dandy Weather Channel widget (OMG I AM OBSESSED WITH THIS THING) tells me that it FEELS like -18F. Who can even say what the wind chill is like right now. I'm thinkin' somewhere around the -A GOOGLE FARENHEIT range. :(((((((((

The windows in this GD house are all single-paned glass, which means that I might as well be outside for all the protection they give. They also frost over easily, which means that Pippin will try to lick the frost off. IDK why she does this. I kinda wish she wouldn't, because I have to get out the Windex a lot.

Also, despite the cold, I NEED TO LEAVE THE HOUSE TODAY. If I don't have any human contact today, I WILL GO NUTS. Dear Cabin Fever, I H8 U.

03. Hey, DOWNLOAD THIS SONG. It's a dude rapping or whatever (IDK WHAT THE KIDS CALL IT THESE DAYS NOW GET OFF MAH LAWN) about some things we should all remember. I think it's clever and funny, and it includes the line, "Thou shalt always trust in Stephen Fry." That alone makes me overlook the fact that he also urges people to spell "Phoenix" "P-H-E-O-N-I-X". WHY DUDE WHY YOU WERE DOING SO WELL.

04. EVEN NUMBERS ASDFLKASDL;KFA;SDLFK

Now, I think Imma crawl back into bed for a minute or two. Just so I can warm up again. >.>

I don't want to be one of those people who never update, and then when they do, it's like, BLAH BLAH I DID SOME STUFF AND THEN I DID OTHER STUFF YAWN THE END.

...Except for the fact that this is totally what this is. Heh heh, uh. Irony?

I've been reading, which is good. We'll see how long this streak goes before I peter out. So far, I've read 3 books, and am about 1/3 through another. I've read:

01. Already Dead, by Charlie Huston.
- I thought this was a pretty good book. Huston took the "hard-boiled detective" genre and gave it a twist by making the protagonist a vampire. He also gives his own spin to the vampire mythology (no venom and no sparkles, though), which I thought was quite believable and successful within the narrative. This was a fun read, and I look forward to reading the sequels.

02. The Tales Of Beedle The Bard, by JK Rowling.
- I appreciated the fact that JKR made the wizarding fairy tales somewhat bleak and ambiguous. They were definitely on par with Grimm's Fairy Tales or anything by Hans Christian Andersen. I also liked the fact that she gave a little stab in the direction of those people who felt that fairy stories were too violent and so decided to rewrite them into sugary-sweet tales. Maybe I'm biased, but again I felt that both adults and kids could glean some meaning from this little work.

03. Soul, by Tobsha Learner.
- A geneticist works toward finding out whether she can isolate the gene responsible for being able to kill without remorse, and in turn, discovers much about herself. Intertwined with her story is the story of her great-grandmother, who was accused of killing her husband. Both stories are unfolded at the same time so that the reader learns the answers to the geneticist's questions and the truth behind the great-grandmother's story at the same time. I thought the narrative was lovely, and the science was handled quite well. Learner did quite a bit of research in order to write the book, and it shows. At the same time, I never felt that the science was over my head or too patronizing - it was a perfect level. My only complaint is that the love scenes thrown in could be a bit jarring. I mean, I'm all for the sexy times, but they weren't always in the best places in the narrative. It detracted from the story.

I'm currently reading Let The Right One In. I've already watched the movie, which was utterly brilliant, and I'm finding that the book is just as brilliant, if even more so.

I have Let The Right One In on my computer as a rich text file, so if anyone would like it, let me know. I'd be happy to send it along.

One final thing: I'd like to wish a very very Happy (Belated) Birthday to queen_geek. I am a total asshole, Amy, and I'm sorry I forgot. I hope you had a great day. *HUGS*

Last year, I made it one of my "goals" to read 50 books in 2008. I didn't make it, but I ended up reading 26, which is more than half. I consider that to be pretty good.

I used to read ALLA TIEMS, but more recently, it's been in fits and starts. At least I read, which is the most important part.

I've decided to make the same goal for this year, too. I borrowed some books from the library today, and will start on them later. They were all recommended books, from various sources. I think a fair few were ones on Stephen King's 2008 reclist. WHO CARES? I hear you ask. Well, LEMME 'SPLAIN:

I ♥ Uncle Stevie;
Uncle Stevie has good taste in books;
~*~THEREFORE~*~
I will more than likely ♥ what Uncle Stevie recommends.

Also, YES I CALL HIM UNCLE STEVIE.

Anyway, I thought I'd copy my list here, in case you're curious. If you want to know any more about these books, or what I thought of them, let me know. Oddly enough, I liked all of them. Huh.

( I DUN RED ME SUM BUKS HURR HURR :B )

While on one of my communities a few weeks ago, a girl mentioned she had dermatillomania. I was curious, as I had heard of trichotillomania, and I wondered if it was similar or related. I also knew that dermato- means "skin", and the ol' brain began to chug along.

As it turns out, dermatillomania, is also known as "compulsive skin-picking". My eyes got wider and wider and I began nodding more and more vigorously as I ran down the list of symptoms. I kept saying, "I do that!" and "That's me!" and "That's how I feel all the time!" It was strange, but also freeing, in a way, to learn that what I did, and how I behaved, wasn't just me. It wasn't some "bad habit" that I had, and that I could possibly be treated for it.

Anyone that's been with me in person has probably witnessed me do some of these things, too:
- Chewing/picking at my nails and cuticles (Especially giina - I got a smack for it!)
- Chewing at my lips and the inside of my mouth
- Scratching/picking at my scalp, face, arms, hands, including picking at scabs

If I don't pick or scratch or poke and prod at my face, I feel strange. I feel creepy-crawly and antsy-in-the-pantsy. When I'm done, I feel better, but only for a while. Then I start squirming again. I've wished, a million times, that I could STOP, JUST STOP, WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU STOPPIT, but I... can't.

So I wrote down the pertinent symptoms and how I felt, and took the paper to my latest counseling appointment. I said, "I heard this word..." and started explaining everything to my counselor. As I was doing so, he opened up his desk drawer, pulled out the ol' DSM-IV, and started flipping pages. I finished by saying, "One of the websites said that dermatillomania is on the spectrum of obsessive-compulsive disorders," and he turned the book around to show me that he had turned to "Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder".

He said, "Everything you've just described is right here." Later, he went on to suggest that perhaps the OCD part came first, and the depression was a part of it. He also said that depression and OCD are co-morbidities, which means "diseases that are generally associated with one another".

To be perfectly honest, I'm glad I saw that word, and commented with that girl who mentioned it in the first place. I'm glad that I can finally put a name to this THING that I HAVE TO DO. I had thought, maybe there's something wrong with my nerve endings, or maybe I'm just a really itchy person, or WHY WON'T MY FACE STOP BREAKING OUT WHYYYY, and now I have an answer. Trust me, it's not something I would wish on anyone, but it's good that there might be an end in sight for me.

My counselor said, "How badly do you want to stop?" and I said, "So much." And now that I think about it, I want to stop more than anything in the world. I'd like to not be so twitchy and squirmy and itchy and I'd like my face to not look like a war zone.

I tried to talk to my mom about it, twice. I told her what I had discovered and what symptoms I had, and I thought maybe she understood what I was talking about. Then, yesterday, she asked me how my counseling appointment went, IN THE MIDDLE OF SUPER WALMART WITH 2198123498123098423041023 PEOPLE AROUND CAN THIS WAIT I REALLY DON'T FEEL LIKE ANNOUNCING ALL OF MY CRAZY TO EVERYONE JEEZ. So I'm explaining, and she's like, "Well, can the doctor (meaning the psychiatrist) give you a salve to heal your face?"

I said, "No, it doesn't work like that. I've been to dermatologists, remember? I've taken antibiotics, and used umpteen million skin care products. It doesn't matter what I do to my skin as far as healing, because I'll just keep picking. It's something my brain tells me I MUST DO." She just wasn't getting it, though. No matter how much Neosporin and bandaids I use, no matter how expensive the face treatments and drugs are, I'll always re-open wounds and make new ones and cause scarring, because it's a COMPULSION.

The next step is talking to my psychiatrist about treatment and medication options.

So... yeah. True story.

It's strange when you run into someone you haven't seen in a long time.

Tonight, as I was walking out of Walmart, a woman called my name. She said, "Do you know who I am?" and then she said her name, and I was all, "OH! HEY!" It was someone I had graduated high school with. She was married, and had a six-year-old, and I just felt... odd.

I mean, last summer, we had our ten year class reunion, but I didn't attend. I didn't really see the point of going and making nice with people I hadn't been in contact with for a decade. I have problems making nice with people I see everyday, so that would have been a chore, to say the least.

She asked me all of the usual questions (how are you, what are you doing - meaning work, &c.), to which I had my unusual answers (I'm surviving, nothing). We chatted for about ten minutes, exchanged phone numbers, and went our separate ways.

I guess it made me feel old, somehow. I know I'm getting older, but I still feel the same. For me, it's difficult to imagine that most of my classmates are married and have families, because in my mind, we're too young to be doing that kind of stuff. And yet, we're not. Not really.

I think this next year's birthday is going to be very difficult for me. I absolutely cannot say how old I'm going to be, and I constantly remind my family members that I'm "staying 29 forever". I can't be 29+1 (Jesus, I can't even make myself type it), because I'm not old enough. So I won't.

I kinda feel like crying right now. I have no idea what I'd be crying for. Perhaps a wasted youth? Perhaps a life that's going nowhere? Whatever the case, it won't make me feel any better. And that's the saddest part of all.

On Friday, I went to Best Buy and bought myself a new external HD. I'd been wanting a new one, because my older one was just getting to be too small. I'd find myself weighing pros and cons of deleting things, all because my space was limited.

So, a larger-capacity HD was in order. Best Buy had a great sale on a 1TB external HD for $149, with the normal price being $260. Great deal, right? Right. I stood in line, wrote out a check, was thoroughly embarrassed because Best Buy hates my checks (ARGH.), and then left with my new shiny.

Later, at home, I spent hours and hours transferring all of my precious precious photos, music, movies, tv shows, &c over to the new HD. I made a bad move by deleting off of the old one as I went, thinking I could use it in future, and it would be nice and empty.

The new HD started making A Strange Noise. And I thought, OH GOD OH NO. I was right in thinking this. A message comes up, saying, "Check for errors?" and I click OK. It chugs along, and then a new message comes up: "Cannot read source file on (insert hundreds of precious files here) material has been overwritten."

ALL of my photos of my cats. ALL of my photos of wonderful things I've saved over TWO YEARS. MOST of my music, painstakingly organized and hard-won after much hunting, most of it rare. FOUR SEASONS of Bones. ALL of my movies, which, again, RARE.

I panicked, had a cry, and then ran recovery software. (If you need this, I recommend Undelete Plus. It's free and very easy to use.) I saved quite a few things back onto the old HD, but not everything. I think, okay, maybe I can transfer the stuff from the new HD back onto the old one. WRONG.

The new HD is SLOW, and frequently says things like, "Cannot read source file." or "File does not exist." And I'm like, I'M LOOKING RIGHT AT IT, IT'S RIGHT THERE. As for being slow, a 1.5MB file (for example) takes FIVE MINUTES to move. FIVE. MINUTES. It should take about 5 seconds, if that. I am unable to use iTunes and download something at the same time, because it starts making That Strange Noise again. Then it freezes iTunes and crashes Firefox.

So here's the situation. I've decided I'm going to cut my losses and just wipe the new HD and return it, preferably for the same brand as my old one. The new HD is a WD, or Western Devices HD. DO NOT PURCHASE THIS BRAND. YOU WILL BE SORRY.

I will probably be asking you guys to send me stuff, more than likely music, so that I can rebuild my collection. A lot of stuff I can (and will) find on my own, but I'll probably need help with the rest. I would truly appreciate any help you can give me.

HAPPY NOM LOTS OF FOODS DAY!

My way of honoring this day is by using an icon that features the BEST FOODS EVAR: GREEN BEAN CASSEROLE.

But, if you don't like GBC (and I really have no earthly idea as to why you wouldn't), I hope you at least enjoy some of ( this: )

HAVE A GREAT DAY, YAWL.

ALSO, HOLLYDAIYE KARDZ! DO IT.

So, you're balancing your finances on the back of an envelope, as you do, and you're all, LA LA LA I CAN ADD AND SUBTRACT LIKE ANY OTHER THIRD GRADER (or whatever age it is you learn to add and subtract numbers larger than 10), and you enter these ~*~MAJICKAL NUMBERZZZZ~*~* into your checkbook registry, and you think, WOW, DO I REALLY ONLY HAVE THIS MUCH THAT SUCKS?

And so then you go to pay bills, and you look at your statement, and you're like, THAT IS NOT WHAT MY REGISTER SAYS WAIT I HAVE TEN EXTRA DOLLARS WHAT?!

And it's because you really CANNOT ADD AND SUBTRACT LIKE ANY OTHER THIRD GRADER, even though you COUNT ON YOUR FINGERS and that maybe, just maybe, A CALCULATOR IS AN ENGLISH MAJOR'S BEST FROND?


Or is that just me?

Just me, then?

Yeah, I thought so. :'(


Also, COMMENT HERE IF YOU WANT HOLLYDAIYE ~~JOY FROM ME IN THE MAIL. I'M NOT EVEN KIDDING, GUYS. DO IT

U NO WUT TIEM IT ARE.

IT ARE HOLLYDAIYE CARD TIEM.

U WNATS A CARD? U COMNT HURR WIT UR NAEM & ADRES.


All comments are screened, so I'm the only one who is going to be writing your name and address on the walls of truck stop bathrooms. If someone named Bubba calls you, YOU'RE WELCOME. ;)

SRSLY, GUISE. COMMENT. I have 3 boxes of cards I bought at Hallmark, so these are QUALITY GREETING CARDS. They're Christmas cards, but as I'm not religious, we'll consider them more like Commercialism-mas cards.

CONGRATUWELLDONE, MY BELOVED STATE

FINALLY YOU'VE DONE ME PROUD

Edit: YES, I suppose I am a hypocrite for posting something political when I said I wouldn't. BUT. This is more ALISON IS PROUD OF OHIO BECAUSE IT DID SOMETHING RIGHT FOR ONCE I'M LOOKING AT YOU OHIO-IN-2004 and less IN UR FACE HA HA.

(Apparently, I've used this subject before, as it's in my cookie-list. Or whatever it's called?)

So, I know I haven't updated in a while. I just really haven't had anything of great importance to talk about.

I mean, who wants to hear about my Ongoing Battle With The People Next Door? Or hear how I still don't have a job, but I really need one, but there is a snowball's chance in hell of me getting one right now? Or how my current uniform consists of: fleece pj pants, tshirt, hooded sweatshirt, wool socks, and slippers, all because I REFUSE to turn on the furnace? Or how, even though I have a paid commission, I have no desire to knit ANYTHING AT ALL, including something for myself, or gifts?

Nah. Didn't think so. Imma talk about stuff that I've been digging lately.


01. Pushing Daisies - Mkay. The story of how I got into this is a little roundabout, but bear with me. I watched The Fall, which is a gorgeous movie (I HIGHLY recommend this. Netflix it or something, if it's not at Ye Olde Local Video Shoppe. Warning, though: YOU WILL CRY. IDC if you're an honest-to-Ceiling Cat sociopath; WATCH IT ANYWAY ASSHOLE.) starring Lee Pace. And I'm all, HOSHIT I LOVE THIS GUYYYYY I WANT MOARRRRRRR, and the internets told me that he's also in Pushing Daisies. So, I, uh, acquired the first season and mainlined that bitch like a junkie. OM NOM NOM CHUCK'S WARDROBE NOM NOM LEE'S PUPPYDOG FAAAAAAAAAAAAAACEEEEEEE NOM NOM LA CHENOWETH NOM.

02. No Heroics - Absolutely HILARIOUS UK comedy. The world has superheroes, right? But, they can't be on the job all the time, so this show is about a group of "capes" that hang out at a bar and rag on each other, the job, &c. Only six episodes, so if you can find it, WATCH IT.

03. Stephen Fry In America - STEPHEN FRY! was almost born in the US (WHY NOT WHYYYYYY O WAIT THEN HE COULDN'T BE KING OF ENGLAND BUT HE COULD HAVE BEEN PRESIDENT GDI WHYYYYY)! He decided to do a documentary series about him driving all over the US, and visiting with the folks. Each episode shows him touring a different region (New England, The South, &c.), and just his comments sometimes absolutely KILL me. In this last episode, he drives through Miami, and he's like, "I really don't want to use this word, but this place is a hole." LOL4EVA. It's great watching him interact with local people, and each one trying to understand the other (Man: "Y'all talk funny where you from!" STEPHEN FRY!: "Ha ha! I suppose so." ♥) And then he went to a college football game in Alabama, and during (what I assumed was) the halftime show, one of the marching bands played "God Bless America" and the the camera showed STEPHEN FRY! all teary and sniffly, and he says, in this soft voice, "Oh, dear." AND OMFG ILHIMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM THE END.

04. True Blood - O HAI THAR ANNA PAQUIN'S BEWBS HOW YOU DOIN'? >.>
Yeah, so anyway. This show can be funny, scary, infuriating, cheesy (OMFG SO CHEESY), and sexy. And also mysterious? IDK it's supposed to be a mystery, but I think it's more SEX SEX VAMPIRES SEX BLOOD FANGS SEX SEX (mystery?) SEX SEX BROODING SEX LOLZ SEX SEXXXXXXXXX.

05. HAVE SOME SONGS OKAY
- Mobile - The Killer - Catchy guitar-ish, uh. Memorable chorus? STFU I CAN'T GAB ABT MUSIC.
- Jace Everett - Bad Things - Used as the theme song for True Blood. NOM NOM NOM.
- City and Colour - Sleeping Sickness - IL DALLAS GREEN THAT IS ALL.
- Eisley - Invasion - Song about body-snatching aliens? Sung in pretty harmonies? I'M THERE.
- The Killers - Human - "Are we human, or are we dancers?" OH BRANDON Y U SO PHILAMASOFAKUL.
- The Pretenders - My City Was Gone - It's about Ohio, so you know I like it.

06. Bread - I like to get French bread (or its crusty, yet chewy equivalent) and slather some I Can't Believe It's Not Butter Made With Olive Oil on that bitch. NOM NOM NOMMMMMMMMMMMM. Let me tell you internets: I WILL NEVER NOT EAT BREAD. DR ATKINS AND HIS SHITTY DIET CAN GO STRAIGHT TO HELL.


Okay, that's enough from me. Here's hoping it doesn't take another THREE WEEKS for me to post again.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY
itsbeenvery!
ILU G!!!!!!!




In other news: I'M NOT DEAD!

You ever go through those spells in which you only want to eat one thing, ALLA TIEMS?

Yeah, I can hear you say. WHEN I WAS THREE.

WELL THEN I AM THREE. All I want to eat right now are Cool Ranch Doritos. If I could somehow derive all of my nutrition from these wonderful crunchy things, I would be a happy camper. And, since I HATE camping (or, even being outdoors, really) THIS IS SAYING SOMETHING.


NOM NOM NOM


*Why, YES! I am awake when I really wish I weren't. ;__;

Today there's an auction at a house two doors down from me. I expected people to park on the street in front of my house, right? No problem.

So I get dressed, brush my teeth, &c, and then I look out of the window, and BITCHES HAS PARKED IN MY DRIVEWAY. At first, I was like, well, they're just picking up stuff and will shortly leave. I eat lunch, and then I go out to the kitchen to get another drink, AND BITCHES IS STILL IN MY DRIVEWAY. It's been two hours. Now I'm MAD.

I had the auction people make an announcement, and soon enough, the car's owner comes across the yard. She's all, "Someone said no one lived here."

I'm all, "Yeah, no. I've lived here for two years."

Apparently, I don't exist? Lights on at night, yard mowed, trash out every Friday morning, cats in the windows, car going in and out of the garage, but NO ONE LIVES HERE?!?

I'm not sure whether to be hurt or pissed off.

Now, I have to go buy yarn or something to make myself feel better. D:

Someone stop me. I want another kitty. An orange kitty!

Ah, screw it!

I WANT ALL THE KITTIES. ALLLLLLLLLL OF THE KITTIES THAT ARE OUT THERE AND I WANT THEM ALLLLLLLLL AND I WILL SCHNUGGLE THEM AND TISS THEIR TEENY KITTYFEETS AND NOM ON THEIR EARFS AND TICKLE THEIR BEWWIES AND ASDLKFASDL;KFA;SLKDF -



Sorry. I had to go collect myself. Hi, my name is Alison and I am addicted to cats. ;_;

TODAY I GOT THE MIGHTY BOOK OF BOOSH IN THE MAIL AND IT IS INDEED MIGHTY, A BOOK, AND ABOUT THE BOOSH. NO FALSE ADVERTISING THERE.

IT IS ALSO: GLORIOUS, FUNNY, & GORGEOUS!


I LOVE ~EVERYONE~~~**~

01. If you haven't been watching Lost In Austen, and you live in the UK and/or you can download it, then IDK U ANYMORE!!!1

No, really. It's a GREAT show. A girl who LOVESSSSSSS Pride and Prejudice is somehow able to step into that world, right at the beginning of the narrative. She keeps trying to make things go the way they're supposed to like in the story, and keeps messing up. It's funny, and touching, and there's lots and lots of WONDERFUL actors, like ALEX KINGSTON! and HUGH BONNEVILLE! and the guy who plays Wickham! (he's my FAYVERT!)

I will be more than happy to help you out (HINTY HINTY HINTTTTT) if you'd like to watch.


02. I know you really won't care, but I'm talking about it anyway. DID YOU KNOW THAT THEY MAKE GLOW-IN-THE-DARK YARN!? And now, I OWN SOME!

I can't decide whether to make something with it or keep it FOREVER & EVER & EVER to HOARD and CHORTLE OVER like I do with my BUTTONS. My life, she is complicated.


03. Funny story:

I have the window in my bedroom open, which attracts cats like nothing else. (No matter how many open windows you have in your house, ALL of the cats will want to be in ONE window. TRUFAX.) ANYWAY, Rosie is sitting there, watching birds or whatever, and a leaf blows by the window, brushing against the screen as it goes. So Rosie PUNCHES A HOLE IN THE SCREEN. And I don't mean that she tore a tiny hole, NO. SHE PUNCHED A HUGE HOLE. Like, maybe an inch across? IDK IT'S HYOOGE. And I'm like, "THIS IS WHY WE CAN'T HAVE NICE THINGS!"


04. BY-EEEEEEEE! GOING TO HE-ELLLLLL!!!!!

( SEE YA!!!! )

This is not directed at anyone in particular, but it is something that I feel I need to address. It concerns my beliefs, and if that doesn't interest you, scroll on.

I'll begin by saying that I am an atheist. I do not believe in any sort of higher power or authority. I do know the difference between an atheist and an agnostic. I have very specific, highly personal reasons for feeling this way, and I have felt this way for quite some time. And no, I will not now, nor will I ever, discuss those reasons.

Despite this, I am tolerant of others' beliefs, with two conditions: One, that you do not harm others while pursuing your beliefs, and Two, that you do not shove your beliefs in my face and try to make me see "the error of my ways". Other than those things, I'm totally cool with whatever you wish to believe. If you're happy with it, then I'm happy because you're happy.

"Harming others while pursuing your beliefs" extends to intolerance, hatred of the other in the name of your beliefs, and actual physical or mental or emotional harm. If, for example, you feel that homosexuality is a sin, you are being intolerant. And then I have a problem with that.

"Shoving your beliefs in my face" extends to blanket generalizations, hurtful accusations, and talking at me about what you believe. Notice I said "talking at me"? If you want to have a thoughtful, serious dialogue, I'm all for it. If you are going to raise your voice and preach at me, then I have a problem. And staying within the same example as above, if you also shove your feeling that homosexuality is a sin in my face, you are being intolerant and an asshole. And I definitely have a problem with that.

My little policy also extends to other things in life, like politics. I'll be the first to admit that I don't know very much about politics. Yes, I've tried to learn, but understanding politics is the same as math: I need a calculator and a cheat sheet just to balance my checkbook. I'm going to vote as I wish, and so are you. I don't want to talk about it. I have to do my own research, at my own snail's pace, in order to be fully informed.

So I guess what I'm saying is that if you have a piece to say on religion/politics/something else, I might not say anything. I have learned to keep my mouth shut when I might otherwise lose my temper and say something I may regret later. I am still learning that, in fact. You won't see any discussions here about any of those things. If this makes you not like me, well. I feel sorry for you, because, frankly, I'm awesome. And you're being intolerant, asshole.

Jonathan is performing again tonight on America's Got Talent!

If you would please please please vote for Jonathan Burkin here after 10pm EST, I would truly appreciate it!

If you're not in the US, here are some zip codes you can c/p: 44836, 43606, 43616, 43420.

Thank you so very much! :D

I've been wanting a new external harddrive for a while, because the one I have doesn't have a large enough capacity. I end up having to delete things - things I might wish to actually KEEP - quite often.

For shits and giggles, I went over to Best Buy to have a lookie-loo at their merch. I saw a really nice external HD, 750GB, on sale for $139.99. I thought that was a pretty good deal, as the 500GB size is regularly priced at $133.99. 250 extra gigs for six bucks? I think I can swing that. I also picked out a nice little lap-pillow/cooling thing for my laptop. (I've been using a lapdesk that is NOT INTENDED FOR COMPUTERS B/C IT IS WARPED AND MELTY FROM THE HEAT HOMG.)

So I'm all, LA DEE DA DEE DA up to the checkout counter, I wait in line, and the nice gal rings up my purchases. I write out a check, and when she runs it through the register, the COMPUTER SAYS NO. I'm like, WHAT. and I'm getting a little embarrassed, but I think, OKAY MAYBE MY CHECKS ARE LAZY TODAY IDK? Out loud, I give this nervous laugh, and I'm like, I KNOW I have money in there!(?)

What ends up happening? I get DENIED. TWICE. I WAS LITERALLY EMBARRASSED WITH EMBARRASSMENT.

I felt like the world's HUGEST LOSER because my CHECK was DECLINED. Even though I have MONEY in my CHECKING ACCOUNT.

So I tucked my tail between my legs, got the Venti Raspberry Mocha No-whip Frappuccino of Self-Pity™, and came home.

COMFORT ME IN MY SORROW SHAME.

JOHNNY MADE IT THROUGH!

Thanks to all of you who voted for him! He was the first chosen tonight - so exciting!

Here's his performance from last night, in case you want to check it out:

Okay, you guys. I never, ever, ever ask for stuff like this, but I am making an exception tonight.

I mentioned this before, but I'll mention it again: a kid from my hometown, and my friend's little brother, is in the Top 40 on America's Got Talent. He performed tonight, and now he needs your votes to continue on to the Top 20.

So, here's the plea:

Please, please, please go here and vote for Jonathan Burkin. (After 10pm EST.) It's free, and if you uncheck one of the boxes at the bottom, they won't contact you for anything. It takes 10 seconds. You can vote up to 10 times. If you vote even once, I really, really, truly will appreciate it.


Thank you so so much, from the bottom of my heart. :D

WANT TO SQUEEZE THE WEASLEY.



CLARIFICATION: THE ONE IN THE MIDDLE.



ALSO: I'D REALLY LIKE A COOKIE. WONDER WHY.

Is anyone out there good at interpreting dreams? I had one night before last that was, IDK. Bothersome?

In the dream, I was at a university, and I had a huge paper that was due the next day. I was in a library, or a building of some sort that had a large computer lab. The computer lab was filled with people, typing madly, trying to finish their papers on time. I hadn't even started on mine, but I wasn't bothered to start working on it, either.

When I woke up, I had this vague sense of mild anxiety, like I used to get in school. I kept feeling like there was something that I needed to be doing, or something that I needed to finish, and it was very important. It did go away pretty quickly, though.

Then, last night, as I was trying to go to sleep, that vague mild anxiety came back. You know that feeling that you get when you have little flutters in your chest and stomach because you're anxious about something? I had that. Like I said, it was very mild, and it eventually went away, but I still have that memory of feeling like that last night, and the night before.

I wonder if it was connected to this dream, or if I'm feeling anxiety that isn't connected to any dream. Could it be that I was anxious about dreaming the same dream? And that the OMG-I-NEED-TO-FINISH-THIS-PAPER! I-HAVEN'T-EVEN-STARTED-YET! feeling might come back?

I've only ever had one recurring dream, and while it is disturbing, I've never been afraid of having it. If I have the dream, okay, if I don't, okay. I have dreams in which I end up repeating actions, but through different circumstances. Are those considered recurring dreams? I'm not sure.


And then, last night, I dreamed I was a badass assassin/superhero/supervillain (I'm a little fuzzy on that part?) who could throw knives like nobody's business. IDK. I wore all black and had a coat that swirled around me while I fought in slow motion, much like Neo in The Matrix. I wasn't The One, though. I think that one's a little easier to interpret: I wish I was a badass assassin/superhero/supervillain that could throw knives like nobody's business while wearing all black with a coat that swirled in slow motion. EASY-PEASY?

GUYS.

GUYS.

YOU GUYS.

Remember when I added this little bit of fun to my Accurate Artist's Representation of my trip to Chicago?



Apparently it's TRUFAX?!?!

I AM SO PSYCHIC, UGYS, IT'S NOT EVEN FUNNY.


I'm bored. YOU GET TO REAP THE BENEFITS. D: