We are the Dreamers of Dreams

There are a lot of people out there who completely assume that they operate in a vaccuum, essentially believing that the things that they choose to do impact only themselves and the people that they intended the action to impact. I would like to say, unequivocably and irrevocably that the bullshit you pull thinking that you are funny or cute or getting away with something or just simply because your head is stuffed so far up your ass that your breath smells like your farts and you cannot see anything beyond the interior of your anus that you ARE WRONG.

When you choose to foul your stable with bullshit, it splatters and some of that splatter catches other people, people who were only innocent bystanders at the wrong place and time. While you don't care at this point, still believing that the temporary warmth from the trickle of bullshit you've just spewed down your backside and onto the floor is completely worth it, I can assure you, this is not the case. People do not enjoy being dirtied by your disgusting filth. They will stop tolerating it. They will move. They will stop talking to you. They will stop doing things for you. Lying or refusing to accept responsibility for the bullshit that you've just lain does not, in fact, fool anyone. The trail is still piping hot, stinking, and it leads straight back to you.

In case you hadn't guessed, someone very specific has splattered some bullshit on me. It has impacted me in a major way twice now in less than four months. I'm full of angry words right now, becuase, once again, everyone else is being made to pay for this pile of crap that WE DIDN'T MAKE!

I am no longer going to be a bystander to this shit. I'm done. It's over. When MY PARENTS are bullied into giving up something THEY'VE WORKED FOR becuase someone else is suffering a massive cranio-rectal inversion, well, that's when I lose MY shit. I'm done being nice about this crap. I'm done with the smiling and making nice and I sure as hell am done being used because someone else is being an irresponsible ass. You know what? Fucking say thank-you once in a while and be GRATEFUL for all the god-damned shit we've done for you. How about that? Huh? STOP TRYING TO BLEED US FUCKING DRY BECAUSE YOU CAN'T DEAL WITH YOUR OWN GOD-DAMN SELF INFLICTED LIFE!!!!

Rant over. Consequences are not.

Current Mood: infuriated
Current Music: "No More Mr. Nice Guy" Alice Cooper

Beauty

Physical attraction to him most certainly caught my attention at first, but that's never really been all I need to stay interested. His sense of humor and the way he expresses himself really drew me to him, but as I got to know him, I learned about the things that he loves and his passion for finding out more about them. He's curious about things and I was surprised that when I mentioned that I had done something like making paper or binding a book that he genuinely wanted to find out more about the process. It fascinates him that I “make stuff” as he puts it. He has a knack for asking about what he wants to know that isn't nosy or intrusive because it's so obviously sincere that it makes it impossible for me to feel defensive when he asks.

He's accepting and understanding about things that not everyone can be so tolerant about. He knows that even though the people I love can be alarmingly frustrating sometimes, that I'm not going to stop loving them just to make my life easier. He understands that family doesn't work like that.

But the most beautiful thing about him, in my eyes, is that he truly wants me to be his partner. He isn't afraid to speak his mind or offer opinions, but he wants to know what I think and how I feel about things. He wants us to make solutions that make us both happy, or, at least, that we can both live with once we reach them. At the same time, he stands up for what he believes in, and he stand up for me. Every time I see that side of him in action, I can't help but let my heart soar, because I know that there's nothing more beautiful than the fact that we are both real, individual people in a relationship that doesn't force us to give ourselves up to be together.

Oracle

There are times when I really wish that I knew the future. If I knew some things in advance, I could have absolutely made some better decisions than I have. Unfortunately, I'm stuck in the exact same situation and pretty much every other human being on the planet.

However, there are those times, like right now, when I can pretty much see a disaster coming before it ever hits. He's decided that he's changing a light bulb in our kitchen because even when I stand on a chair I can't reach it. If I were the one trying to change the bulb, I would have gotten the step ladder with wide steps that's made for people to stand on so they can reach things or one of the heavy wooden chairs from the dining room. He has gotten one of the little stools that I'd bought for $10 at Wal-mart so that we would have a few extra places to sit when we had a bunch of extra people over. They're perfectly fine to sit on, but they're small and they aren't built for standing on. I come around the corner and say “Uh-honey I don't think-” right about the time that the stool collapses.

He lands pretty hard on the floor. The chair is a total loss, but he's okay, and somehow he managed to keep the light bulb intact. He was a little stunned, but he wasn't hurt. I took the light bulb from him and helped him up, before helpfully suggesting that he might want to use the stepladder next time.

Current Music: "Free Fallin'" Tom Petty

Interview

It's always weird that first time you sit down for a dinner with the parents. It feels a lot less like a good time and a lot more like an interrogation. The thing is, it isn't any more comfortable when it's my parents interviewing him. They've already asked me the questions they're asking him, but I suppose they're just doing some fact-checking, even though they really aren't detectives. I feel awkward because I know that he's perfectly aware of what they're doing. He handles their questioning very well and I'm both relieved and proud as he passes the test with flying colors. I know it's a rite of passage to gain entry into pretty much every family, but it still wasn't one that I looked forward to.

Current Mood: busy
Current Music: "Paperback Writer" Beatles

Adventure

I have always been of the opinon that it's easy to find adventure close to home if you're just willing to try something you've never done before. He's a little scared about my latest brilliant idea. I try to reassure him that many of the best adventures start with a trip to the grocery store. I do have to make him put a few things back, after I remind him that we are supposed to be having an adventure, not taking comfort from the familiar, though I promise that we can come back and do a little grocery shopping on our way home. We load up our little, plastic shopping basket before taking it to the register. I glance longingly at the cooler full of the shiny, curving bottles of Coca-Cola, but resolutely steel myself to ignore them and grab an independetly bottled soda that I've never drunk before. He raises one eyebrow and smirks.

“I have to hold to the rules we agreed to just like you,” I answer.

After paying for our purchases, we head out to our car and then go to a park we've never been to before and pick out a picnic shelter. Then, we settle into our adventure, trying all of the stuff we've purchased, none of which we've ever tried before.

Current Mood: happy
Current Music: "Guess I'd Rather be a Cowboy" John Denver

Halloween was fun.  I got to hang out with friends, eat really good Indian food and just have a good time.  It was definitely a nice day.

I'm not quite so sure if Thanksgiving will be just as nice.  I don't have any plans yet, and so far, it looks like I'll probably be staying at home and working on my NaNoWriMo project.  That isn't necessarily a bad thing.  I like to see my family when I can, but being on my own isn't the end of the world, either.  I can certainly occupy myself when the need arises.

I did get some sleep and it was nice, too.

Current Mood: satisfied
Current Music: "Bananaboat song" Harry Belafonte

Hmm. Sleep. Yes. I believe sleep would be wonderful.  I've been missing sleep lately, mostly because of the stuff going on earlier in the week.  It seems like one night of lousy sleep just leads to deteriorating concentration for me.  Things will get better. I'll get some sleep this weekend.

Though lack of focus did not keep me from staring, with shock and awe, and, dare I say it? Yes, lust, for the Barnes & Noble Nook.  Now, I realize that it's a bad, bad idea to go charging off to purchase the first generation of any new technological wonder...but pretty! shiny! expandable!  (and filling up microSD cards takes up lots less space that filling up multiple bookshelves, really, it does...)

So, yes. I need sleep. And money.  Sleep would certainly help the rational part of my brain that I wold love to believe is in charge of the decision making process, and money would mean that I could fearlessly buy the nook and happily learn to operate fancy cutting-edge (well-sorta) technology.  Lots more money would mean that I could FILL it up with books and more books and....

Um. Yes. I will stop. I will stop and get some sleep.  Rational Brain will start talking to me again very soon, I'm sure of it. I think we're still on speaking terms...

Current Mood: tired
Current Music: "Money (that's what I want)" Merle Haggard

The last 24 hours have been a huge emotional rollercoaster.  I hate the way that a single phone call can turn all the anitcipation from a week to ashes.  I got news that a relative was very ill and it was very scary.  As it turns out, yes, it was that serious and yes it could have been even worse news, but they have him stabilized and they're actually already talking about releasing him on Thursday if he continues to do as well as he has the last day or so. 

So, I have much less to worry about now, thank goodness, and I can now try to relax a little.

Current Mood: relieved
Current Music: Celebrate Three dog Night

I'm gearing up for NaNoWriMo again this year. I have my character picked out and some plotting done.  Now, it's just the anticipation of buckling down to actually do the writing part of it. Since NaNo starts on a weekend, I'm hoping that I will be able to get myself off to a good start this year.

NaNoWriMo is a special brand of insanity, but I do it because I sort of feel this drive to prove to myself that there are a lot of stories inside me and that I can tell them without fear of my words running dry. In essence, I'm working on proving to myself that I'm an infinite ocean of ideas and words, rather than a finite puddle.  With NaNoWriMo, I don't actually have to worry about setting a goal (because the goal is already there for you to meet or exceed) because sometimes "when it's time for the story to end" is-well-sort of nebulous, or a lot nebulous depending on which characters I'm listening to at a given point.  The only one that I have to compete against is myself and really, I'm not competition, so it's kind of a win-win for me to participate.

As always, in November, my posting will be far more sporadic.   In all likelihood, you'll probably only see Sunday Scribblings posts.  Don't worry, I'm just busy creating-or, at the very least, listening to my inner voices.

Current Mood: excited
Current Music: "Can't Fight this Feeling" REO Speedwagon

Shame

Being with someone like this is, often times, like being struck by cosmic electrical chemical lightning. It's exciting and thrilling and more than I could have ever possibly dreamed, but along with the excitement and the love, there's also a definite element of fear and worry. There is going to be a moment when he's digging through all the DVDs and finds the copies of “Catch and Release”, “Dirty Dancing”, and “Somewhere in Time” and realize that, yeah, I enjoy the occasional chick-flick. Or, he's going to discover the three-disc collection of John Denver music that I know all the words to, and then, of course, there's the fact that I've PURCHASED an MP3 of Tony Orlando and Dawn singing “Knock Three Times” and it's on my MP3 player, along with all the other stuff. He's been very understanding about those, though, happy to revel in the pop culture equivalent of Cheese Whiz with me because he knows these are not things that I necessarily admit easily to. He realizes that it's all a part of the process of getting to know each other better and building a relationship together. He, in turn, shares the fact that he never beat Super Mario Brothers on the original Nintendo, either, and reveals his own guilty pleasures so that I cans see I'm not the only one.

Later, though, comes the darker secrets. The things that I don't really want to admit because I really am ashamed of them. The things that I'm worried will make him think twice about what he's doing with me and whether I'm really worth the effort once he find out. I'm not good with secrets and I'm lousy with deception and I know that if I don't tell him first, he'll find out from someone else and it will just end up hurting because I didn't tell him on my own. Knowing that it's the right thing to do, and the right way to do it, doesn't make it any easier. I'm scared because I know that I love him and there's no doubt in my mind that he's definitely My One and the last thing that I want to do is lose him. He knows that I'm weird and has explored the depths of my weird in ways that I've never let anyone else even glimpse. What I'm most scared of is finding out that he has a limit, maybe discovering that I'm too much of a freak for him to handle and he'll need to go. I know, in my mind, that in terms of oddity or scariness, really, my particular shameful pieces aren't really that bad. It's just that I haven't really shared them before and the fear of the unknown can be a very powerful thing.

It takes a little while, but I screw up my courage and manage to tell him. I let it spill out, and it's the first time that he's seen me cry. I even admit to him how embarrassed I am that I'm crying and that I'm so freaked out, because the crying just seems to make me even more ashamed. He lets me get my breath again and he wraps his arms around me and pulls me in close and I know, then, that even though my mind was driving the fear, I should have let it lose the argument with my heart and my gut, because the shame is loosening as I realize everything's going to be okay.

Current Mood: calm
Current Music: "When you say Nothing at All" Keith Whitley

It started out gray, drizzly and yucky today, but then the sun came out and it turned into a nicer day.  Unfortunately, I decided that it was time to put the moped away for the winter, before it got too cold.  So, that happened today.  I was sad to do it, mostly because it means that I lose just a tiny little bit of freedom, but I know that it was necessary.  It's merely one more indication that the seasons are changing and, soon enough, it will be time to get the moped back out for the spring.

Current Mood: drained
Current Music: "Sound of Silence" Simon & Garfunkle

It's cold and pouring rain here, which makes me largely unhappy when I end up walking through it.  It's taken a while for my feet to warm back up after being encased in wet canvas tennis shoes.  Blankets are wonderful, wonderful things.

I saw Zombieland with a friend last night and it was hilarious.  It's sick and twisted, naturally, but it's still really, really funny.  There's definitely something about seeing Woody Harrelson playing a real badass that's just magical.  I still love watching "The Cowboy Way", in part, because Woody's character is so funny.  A word of caution, though: I do NOT recommend food during this movie, though I was perfectly fine with a Coke as big as my head in hand.  Still, there's a lot of splattering and oozing, which is really only to be expected in a zombie movie.

I'm gearing up for NaNoWriMo this year, and I've got the idea that I'm going to work on ready to go, so now, it's just wait until November starts and start writing.

Current Mood: relaxed
Current Music: "Rhythm of the falling Rain" the Cascades

The day that I have to take the moped down to the basement for the winter is drawing nearer, and I'm just kind of dreading it.  First of all, it will be colder, which tends to be less fun. Second of all, well, I won't be able to just go hop on the moped whenever I want to.  It's nice to have that little bit of freedom to just go ride around aimlessly because the moped doesn't use much fuel at all.  Also, as an added bonus, it gives my dad such a kick to know how much I love riding it.  Gifts are not really his strong suit, and so the fact that he's found me something that I love so much makes him really, really happy. 

Tomorrow night, I'm going to see "Zombieland" with a friend. We're both of the opnion that it looks really funny.  I am going to avoid eating right before the movie, though, because-well, my gore tolerance seems to be drastically reduced with the addtition of foodstuffs. That's probably in direct relation to the fact that I am a textural eater. If I don't like the texture of something in my mouth, there's no way it's going to make it to my stomach.

Current Mood: happy
Current Music: "Werewolves of London" Warren Zevon

It was a beautiful fall day today.  It was slightly less beautiful when I ended up pushing my moped 12 blocks because it ran out of gas.  It appears that the moped was not nearly as level as I'd thought when I checked.  Oh well. Got some excercise. Rode the moped. That makes it a good day.

Current Mood: tired
Current Music: Zoom zoom zoom Capeira

Junk

He sits, abandoned and moldering, leaning against an old building. He has given up all hope of ever being revived or restored to his former self, instead remaining silent and useless. Sometimes, he has nightmares that one day he will be hauled off to that horrible place known as Scrap and that will be the end of him, because he will never roam free again. Then, one day, he is loaded into a bright yellow pick-up, along with a friend who is in an even worse state of disrepair and he fears that the time has finally come that he will learn what that horrible place, Scrap, really is. The journey involves a dirt road so rough that it vibrates the truck bed and he's worried that pieces of himself are going to fall off and be lost. There are a few turns and they arrive at a farm. He starts to feel very afraid when he sees the mutilated corpses of cars lurking in the grass. Large pieces of their exteriors are misssing, leaving what's left of their upholstery and innards exposed to the elements. He may be dissected like these behemoths and left to rot as they are, unwanted and unneeded. The pick-up continues past the dead cars and pulls up in front of a cinderblock building with a large, sliding wooden door. Then, he is unloaded, along with his friend. They are taken inside the building and he wonders what will happen next. Over the next few weeks, a cloth cover is put over his seat, and he is taken apart, thoroughly cleaned, and then put back together. He gets new tires, all the way from China, which he knows because he overheard several phone calls about the shipping status. Then, comes a day when he is filled with gasoline and two-stroke oil. He feels his strength and his life returning as the rich fuel courses through his system. Then, at long last, someone sits on top of him, pedals a few times, and drops the lever which brings his engine sputtering to life. He triumphantly roars his return as loudly as he can and growls all the way around the driveway. Soon, he gets a new name and becomes Flame the moped. He gets to roam all around the back dirt roads until the day when he is moved to his new home, where he is ridden with great joy rather frequently. Flame still has to sleep in the winter, but he is happy, now that he is useful, and he no longer has nightmares about being hauled to that horrible place known as Scrap.

Current Mood: happy
Current Music: "Born to be Wild" Steppenwolf

I still don't like the new pens at work.  Surprisingly, I have a weekend coming up where I DIDN'T plan anything.  This means...I'm going to start working on Christmas Presents.  I've already gotten some odds and ends picked up to start working with, I just haven't started doing anything really cohesive yet, though.

Current Mood: happy
Current Music: "Joy to the World" Three Dog Night

We had to get different pens at work because of budget cutbacks.  We used to have Pentel RSVP pens, which are my favorite pen to use because they're comfortable to use and they last for quite a while, the ink doesn't skip, and they write well until they're out of ink.  I hold my pens just like I was shown to when we were learning the Palmer Method of Penmanship-which many, many people tell me is actually weird-but that's just how I write.  The RSVP pens were perfect for my grip, even with the rubber grip piece-or maybe especially becuase of it.

The new pens we got are about one inch shorter.  I hate them.  They aren't comfortable to hold and I spend a very large chunk of my work day writing things down, between taking messages, making notes, proofreading, and all the rest. I really, really hate them, and I used them for a whole day just to make that it wasn't because I didn't want to change pens.

Current Mood: okay
Current Music: "Take it Back" Reba McEntire

Horatio is  all fixed up and back at home now.  Turns out there was a little corrosion issue so he didn't actually need any parts replaced.  He should be really happy because he got his regular detox while we were at it.  Life is good.

Current Mood: happy
Current Music: "Alright now" Free

Horatio is just having a little bit of a wiring issue, all the rest of his systems are functioning normally.  So, he'll be all fixed up and I'll be getting him back very soon, good as new-or at least good as he ever was.  My roommate has theorized that Horatio was just missing his mechanic and felt that it was time for a visit.  I'm sort of inclined to agree.  Of course, it could just be a cry for attention, since I think he's been a little jealous of the moped.

Current Mood: good
Current Music: "You can drive my car" The Beatles

Things that go bump in the night

I can admit that there are times when I'm stubborn. Sometimes, though, it's not just stubbornness on my part. If I have to get up during the night, I usually don't turn on lights, despite being night blind, because I don't want to wake him up. Sometimes, he forgets that I can't see in the dark and leaves things out of their usual places. I try to walk slowly and step carefully and I usually keep my hands out in front of me, but I can't always keep from running into things. The thing that goes bump in the night in my house is usually me.

Current Mood: good
Current Music: "Dancing in the Moonlight" Toploader