Normally I don't have a problem with tarantulas but jesus this one scared me. NEVER IN MY CASITA!!!!!
Now I'm all paranoid of going t bed.
But alas, I must. I hope Doc comes to me and tells me more of his story.
Wednesday is my mega late day, dont get in until 11, stay until 8.
To days to come,
Just launched a flying lantern, that, plus this evenings rain made me feel better.
but still, something feels wrong. which sucks because Doctor Who started today.
to days to come,
and we continue…
The silver light of the full moon splashed across the glass windows of the Red Crescent hospital. It had been two months since the desecration of the small village to the west, but the time spent was good. The little baby girl would, by some miracle, live; even the doctors had been shocked after they learned of her birth and her birthplace. They had destroyed that village for a reason, Doc had told them and swore them to silence. He stayed with her as they provided medical attention, tests and healing aide to her and then finally located a family for her. She'll be safe, they assured Doc, she'll want for nothing. And he left.
Now standing out in the warm night, the moon just risen over the mountains in the east he looked around, not knowing what next to do. The Red Crescent doctors had given him clothes, a blanket and some basic necessities in a bag which he slung over his shoulder and remembered a phrase from a book he'd once read as a child.
"Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?"
"That depends a good deal on where you want to get to," said the Cat.
"I don't much care where---" said Alice.
"Then it doesn't matter which way you go," said the Cat.
"---So long as I get somewhere," Alice added as an explanation.
"Oh you're sure to do that," said the Cat, "if you only walk long enough."
Doc smiled, 'walk long enough' he thought again and began walking.
Doc opened his eyes, above him the full moon was shining making the surrounding prairie look like a silver ocean. A warm breeze making the tide of light flow and ebb around him as he looked around. It had been nearly two years since he last visited the little girl he saved, she'd be about four now he figured. He wasn't in the habit of moving backwards, but for a couple of years he never wandered far from her, constantly checking in on her and her new family. Bringing her new toys and dresses and spending time with her. But two years ago a flyer made it to the Red Crescent hospital, a man fitting his description was reported missing in action. Any information that may lead to his rescue. He headed east, and when he reached the place designated on the flyer, he was ambushed. Doc shook his head, trying to dislodge memories that gripped tightly to his corners of his mind. That didn't matter now, what really mattered was the small blue dress in his bag, the little yellow ribbon tired around his wrist, and half a day's walk back to the little girl who always seemed calling for him.
The small town was waking up as he entered the northern gate. This place had really grown in the last few years but he was happy to see life thriving after the hardships of war. Even if life was something out of a story book, or the history books. He stopped at a baker's shop and bought some fresh, still steaming bread and was surprised to see he also carried coffee, a sweet luxury in this part of the country. He bought a small package of coffee and with the gifts for the girls surrogate family in hand he made his way to the western wall to their small but gracious home.
He entered the square courtyard of the and peered up at the empty balconies. The family must still be asleep, he figured and crossed the courtyard to the northeastern corner where the living quarters were built. He knocked gently and the door swung open. The place had been ransacked, debris from broken tables, chairs and plates littered the floor. A sharp coppery smell invaded his nose and when he circled into the kitchen he found Mina, the mother, spread over the counter, four knives protruding from her back, her skirt lifted over her hips. He dropped the bread, quickly turned and ran to the upstairs bedrooms, to her bedroom. He found Joseph on the stairwell, face down, blood pooled around his battered head. He raced down the hallway, pausing only a moment to see Gabby bed in her bed, blood spray on the walls. He looked to the last door at the end of the hallway. A piece of paper hung to the wooden door with a large dagger pinning it.
Look what you made me do doctor.
With a trembling hand Doc opened the door, it creaked on its hinges and opened to reveal nothing. He let out a shaky breath. The room hadn't been touched, and while she was not there, there was no sign of a struggle, no blood, no indication that she was hurt or dead.
He headed back downstairs, gathered his belongings and walked out the door. Anyone looking for him would know he had passed through if he moved the bodies, so with a silent prayer, he slipped off into the waking town, not sure where to start looking.
On no!! What's happened to the little girl? Who is PMX? You remembered a book from your childhood, what else do you remember? WHY IS COFFEE A LUXURY?!?!?!
Where are you taking me Doc?! Ah well… time for class here in half an hour, the dust is killing my sinuses, I am tired, I want to sleep. I think I may take half a day off tomorrow and lounge in the hammock.
To days to come,
So I was working on my spreadsheet and I was thinking to myself, Doc, how did you get your name? Why are you called Doc? Shouldn't your name be Ricky or Bobby or Vincent? I am always partial to Liam myself. What do you look like? Then in my mind I see a tattoo of the old 15th century plague doctor beak-masks with the red eyes on a shoulder surrounded with burns that look like they came from acid, or fire or… caustic soda- lye! Then it comes to me, he doesn't have a name…
Snippet: How Doc got his name.
"Why do they call you the doctor?"
Doc stopped and pondered for a moment. "Years ago I was wandering up north, looking for someone, or something, I don't remember which." He shrugged, set his bag down on the ground and sat under a tree. "Anyways, so there I am, up in the heavily occupied north and I had no idea a war was raging. I walked into this town, not even a town really, more like a little village. The buildings were charred, the ground dusted in lye and the stench," he wrinkled his nose in remembrance. "The major city upwind had been demolished with incendiaries and biochem attacks which drifted down to this village where massive outbreaks of chemically altered yersinia pestis has just about wiped out everyone."
"I heard about that."
"At that time I was only wearing what I woke up in, my black trench coat that went down nearly to the ground, my leather boots and my red sunglasses."
"Always made me wondered where you came from dressed like that."
"Me too," he laughed. "I had no memory of who I was, still don't really." He sniffed. "So I am in this village, death all around me, the whole place just silent, just silent," he exclaims. "And after a few minutes of scouting the place out I hear a small voice. 'Doctor?' I turned around and there is this little boy, naked with what looked like a burlap sack tied around his torso, his sandy hair burned almost completely off, and the caustic lye burns all over his body. I was so shocked that the kid was alive, but when I saw the swollen lymph nodes that kept his left arm propped out and the deep bruises on the skin that wasn't charred or burned I knew there wasn't anything I could do to save him. But the kid's one word seemed to galvanize the air, soon there were all sorts of people coming out hiding. 'Doctor' they whispered, or cried, or even screamed. I knew I couldn't save them, but I could help them, and so I set about trying to help them as much as possible. I was there for three weeks, cleaning out areas to set up wards, sorting people and keeping the place as clean as possible. Practically all of those people died, as I knew they would, without proper medicine all I could do was try to ease the suffering as much as possible. I was down to my last three patients, all three of them children, two young boys and a baby girl who had been born to a mother infected. That baby girl already died on me three times, and every time I was able to revive her. I had no idea what was wrong with her, if she was infected or not, I figured having been born from a woman who was infected and died shortly after childbirth this girl was not destined for this earth long." He sighed, closing his eyes and raising his face to the warm sun. "I heard helicopters, and I thought 'finally, help is coming.'" He grunted. "They bombed the village, incendiaries, lye," he grew quiet, and for a long moment said nothing. "The little boys," he whispered. "There was fire everywhere. I had the girl in my arms, and I ran, ran away" he sighed, opened his eyes again and smiled. "I never stopped running."
Oh, I am not sure if I like that story, it's kinda sad. Little by little this story is being revealed to me. But with every little bit that I am shown it answers a couple of questions but spawns so many more. Occupied North? War? He talks about a village, so I assume this isn't America, but maybe it is America, post WW3? Did that boy call him doctor because the way he was dressed or because he was the only person who wasn't injured and infected?
- A wide-brimmed black hat worn close to the head. At the time, a wide-brimmed black hat would have identified a person as a doctor, much the same as how nowadays a hat may identify chefs, soldiers, and workers. The wide-brimmed hat may have also been used as partial shielding from infection.
- A primitive gas mask in the shape of a bird's beak. A common belief at the time was that the plague was spread by "bad air". There may have been a belief that by dressing in a bird-like mask, the wearer could draw the plague away from the patient and onto the garment the plague doctor wore. The mask also included red glass eyepieces, which were thought to make the wearer impervious to evil. The beak of the mask was often filled with strongly aromatic herbs and spices to overpower the miasmas or "bad air" which was also thought to carry the plague. At the very least, it may have dulled the smell of unburied corpses and sputum from plague victims.
- A long, black overcoat. The overcoat worn by the plague doctor was tucked in behind the beak mask at the neckline to minimize skin exposure. It extended to the feet, and was often coated head to toe in suet or wax. A coating of suet may have been used with the thought that the plague could be drawn away from the flesh of the infected victim and either trapped by the suet, or repelled by the wax. The coating of wax likely served as protection against respiratory droplet contamination, but it was not known at the time if coughing carried the plague. It was likely that the overcoat was waxed to simply prevent sputum or other bodily fluids from clinging to it.
- A wooden cane. The cane was used to both direct family members to move the patient, other individuals nearby, and possibly to examine patients without directly touching them.
- Leather breeches. Similar to waders worn by fishermen, leather breeches were worn beneath the cloak to protect the legs and groin from infection. Since the plague often tended to manifest itself first in the lymph nodes, particular attention was paid to protecting the armpits, neck, and groin.
Like I said earlier, more questions than answers. When I wrote about Rozzi, I pictured a little girl, a child, no older than six or seven. Hugging a little stuffed bunny, dressed in a little dirty dress and covered with Doc's large leather jacket. But I can't see her face, her eyes or even her hair. I don't normally write a lot because these stories are stories to me as well. Like little movies, playing completely out of sync in my mind. Ending, middle, point of interest, beginning, prologue… Where do you come from Doc? And more importantly, where are you taking me?
Just in case someone doesn't know, Yersinia Pestis, aka Y. Pestis, takes three main forms: Pneumonic, septicemic, and bubonic. Commonly known as The Black Death.
I use to write a lot as a child, nothing that amounted to anything of course, but still. I always thought about it like my journal writing, it's a lot of noise in my head that I have to write out or it'll overwhelm me. Lots of times it's just little blurbs, no point really, just something that popped into my head. This one though, started out as a writing prompt but Doc and Rozzi and quickly pulling me into their world. I am excited and a little scared to see where this goes.
But moving on, you cannot rush a muse. I cut my nails last night and sounded better on this last song on the violin. The high arch fingers are sometimes hard to perform and I practiced until my fingertips were black from rubbing the strings and fingerboard.
To days to come,
Short story time, not sure how good this one is:
225: Use these words in your story: doctor, roll of film, stairwell, telephone.
The streets of the city were empty in the late night. The power grid was failing on west side of the river and as the rain poured down it sizzled the scorched roads and created an eerie mist.
"What are we going to do Doc?" a young girl asked the dark man crouched beside her.
"I don't know Rozzi," he whispered. "But I'll protect you."
"I know." She smiled at him, hugged an old stuffed animal rabbit and looked around the empty street. The awning above them was the only one still intact among the ramshackle buildings and it proved scant protection from the cold, bitter rain.
Doc pulled off his leather jacket and wrapped it around Rozzi's small body. "Come on, we'll sleep in the old hotel up the street. We'll talk to the police tomorrow."
"I don't like it there," Rozzi whispered frantically. "I hear voices in there."
"It's probably just some Hiders, like us."
Rozzi shook her head. "No," she sighed as Doc held her hand and led her to the old abandoned hotel. "It's not."
Doc circled the building looking for an easy entrance. The police came by every day searching for Hiders and sealing the building up again.
"Let's find another place to hide Doc, please?" Rozzi begged as she pulled on his belt loop.
"It's warm and dry in there Rozzi, I can keep you safe in there."
"You can keep me safe anywhere," she whined.
Doc glanced down at her and shook his head. He crouched down and started pulling the bottom boards off a basement window. He crawled in first, pulling a small flashlight from his pocket and surveyed the room before reaching back for Rozzi and pulling the reluctant little girl in.
"I have a bad feeling." Rozzi whimpered.
"There's no one here," Doc said. "All the boards are intact and the police chase everyone out of here in the mornings remember? We're alone in here." He said and pulled the boards back up to the window to cover their entrance. "Plus," he continued. "They gutted this building a long time ago. Nothing now but the carpets and walls."
Rozzi shivered and grabbed Doc's pant leg as he walked to the basement door. They entered the lobby and again Doc surveyed the area with his flashlight.
"It doesn't smell old anymore." Rozzi whispered.
"Someone must have come in and cleaned it." Doc shrugged and headed down the hall towards the stairs.
"Where're you going?" Rozzi asked, her voice trembling slightly.
"Upstairs, I want to be able to look out the window and keep watch."
"You can keep watch down here."
"Then stay here if you like," Doc smiled, knowing full well she'd never let him out of her sight if it could be at all helped. She scrunched up her nose and stuck out her tongue. "I'll be up on the fifth floor." He walked on and it wasn't a moment until he felt her hand grabbing his pant leg again.
"You're mean." She mumbled and he just smiled.
The stairs were at the end of each hallway. The rooms of the once grand hotel were now barren, all the doors removed and all the windows on the first, second and third floor were boarded over. Each room they passed Doc quickly stuck his head in and looked around.
"I thought you said we were alone," Rozzi said after he checked the tenth room.
"We are," he confirmed.
"Then why do you check every room?"
"Before you go to sleep why do you open your eyes one more time?" he asked back.
Rozzi shrugged, not understanding his question.
"I check," he explained. "Because even though I know we are alone in here, I'd rather be doubly sure then to have something surprise me."
They got to the stairs and were just about to head up when a sharp trill of a telephone pierced the silence.
"Like that?" Rozzi's voice trembled.
"Yeah sweetie," Doc looked up the twisted stairwell where orange light seeped in through un-boarded windows above the third floor. "Like that."
The phone rang again and again as Doc and Rozzi remained fixed at statues at the bottom the stairwell.
"You'd think it would have gone to voicemail by now," Doc said. "Come on."
"No," Rozzi pleaded. "Let's go, please Doc? Let's get out of here."
Doc shook his head and started up the stairs. He heard Rozzi whine but soon felt her hand slip into his and they headed up towards the sound of the telephone.
"There's no power here," Doc said as they got closer. "Of course old wall phones drew power from the telephone lines. I helped pull all the wire out of this building, there shouldn't be any wiring."
"There shouldn't a phone ringing in the middle of the night either." Rozzi pointed out.
Doc took a deep breath as they reached the fifth floor and looked down the hallway. There on a tall, slender, elegant stand rested an old candlestick telephone straight from the 1920's.
"Don't answer it." Rozzi said sternly as they approached the still ringing telephone.
"Rozzi, no one knows we are here." He reached for the phone.
"Please Doc, let's go, let's get out of here before it's too late."
Doc hesitated for a moment, his hand hovering over the old receiver. "No matter what happens Rozzi, I will protect you."
Rozzi nodded but said nothing and watched as he lifted the receiver to his ear.
There was a moment of silence before a deep, thick voice spoke.
"I know what you have on that roll of film Doctor."
Doc stopped breathing, his eyes darting to the jacket that was still draped over Rozzi.
"And before the night is out," the voice threatened. "I will find you and I will kill you and your little lapdog." The voice was replaced with the sound of ticking.
Doc dropped the receiver, scooped Rozzi into his arms and ran for their lives.
Today was a nice day, I walked outside and the wind was blowing in from the west, the humidity put the perfect amount of thickness to the air which had a slight cool nip to it. It was perfect.
I found the keys I lost, they were in bossman's office, I knew I didn't lose them! And …. Cazzo! I need to sneeze but it goes away at the last moment!! That sucks…
So my nails are growing out and last night at violin lessons I learned that you can't have long nails on your left hand. No problem, mine aren't long… but obviously long enough! I have to cut them down!!! This is just so many shades of unfair, but I am determined to play the violin! My goal in classical is to learn Vivaldi's Four Season specifically, Winter. I also want to get a firm grasp on fiddle music, Celtic and of course, Last of the Mohicans.
Anyways, it's just about time to go home. This spreadsheet is pissing me off. If I took it home to work on… no, not secure…. GR! Okay, tomorrow's another day.
To days to come,
Oops, I forgot to write yesterday, well, it was a busy day. I woke up with a slight hangover from the Burke Burlesque the night before which was pretty good. It felt strange going out on a Saturday and not being out to play pool, but it was nice. Little Bit was there and it was fun. So wake up Sunday, hung-over but not too bad, head over to Sunday brunch and wish my brother a happy birthday. Stopped off at Best Buy and bought some toys, stopped at Hastings and bought a new manga, then went home. Jewels was painting the screen door so I ask if she needs any help and I helped her, outside, for the next couple of hours. Painted the door, hung up yard art, chatting and had a beer. It was fun, but being out in the sun all day can really zap your energy and mine was thoroughly zapped. Went to dinner with the family at 5 over at Olive Garden… which reminds me, I had leftovers for lunch but I left them at home! NOO! Damnit. Heh, I also left my cell phone at home too, merda. Anyways, so the dvds I bought for brobro's birthday didn't turn out to be what I thought they were… lol, shoulda seen that one coming, so I just now ordered a different one but I think it's only in Japanese and not dubbed. Gr, oh well.
Sonnez les matines,
Sonnez les matines,
Din, din, don!
Din, din, don!
Teacher said she was going to teach me to read music next. I don't know where to even start with such a task, but I trust her skills, already I have learned a lot about the violin and I am so happy about that. I've only been at this since March 22nd but I am feeling so good about this, I am so glad I finally took the steps to learn the violin. I learned the whole of May Song so I hope I can surprise her with that, I need to practice more on my bowing, but that'll come with time.
I found these two short stories in an old thumb drive I thought I lost 6 months ago. Edited a little bit, but here they are:
The love of your life is getting married to someone else. In a last-ditch attempt to win the love of your life back, you bust into the wedding and profess your love mid-ceremony. Start your story with the line…
"Don't say yes!" I shouted as I burst into the church. Everyone looked back at me like the half crazed woman I was. Slightly out of breath and disheveled I looked around and nodded. "Oh," I sighed. "Good, right church this time." I slowly made my way up the aisle pushing my long hair back in an attempt of normalcy.
"Eve?" The groom was shocked and the bride looked murderous.
"Patrick," I gulped down a breath and tried to steady my nerves. "Please, just listen," I took a deep breath knowing I'd have to be quick about this. "I know we have our differences, and I know we've said some, uh," my thoughts tripped up. "Unique," I nodded. "Unique things to each other, but I also know that fights between us never last more than a few days and we talk about them through and through until we understand each other. And we do Patrick," I gulped. "You and I are always communicating and understanding each other even when our differences drive us to unique words. Um," my mouth was suddenly dry, my long speech I had prepared deserted me. "Uh, where was I?"
"Eve," Patrick groaned.
"Right, quicker then," I nodded. "You said you always wanted to live debt free, making just enough to live on and we can do that! You and me, we both are debt free, we are both highly educated, no offence there Tess." I nodded to the bride who still looked like she wanted to murder me. "Oh, uh, anyway," I coughed. "You and I Patrick, we can go anywhere, we can do anything, we can touch the stars! Just please! Please, don't marry her, I know right now the economy is tough, and maybe, uh, maybe we won't have that much money to support us right away, but it will happen." I nodded hopefully. "And even if it doesn't, you and I, we could be wanderers and we'd be okay with that."
"You say that now," Patrick sighed. "But what about children?"
"We don't need children."
"You say that now!" He repeated. "But what about when all your friends have children and what about when your parents start laying in on your for kids?"
"At the risk of sounding like Gloria in that one penguin movie," I smiled. "'Then I'll have you' and that's all I need."
"Eve," Patrick let out a breath and looked up at me.
"I love you Patrick," I said slowly. "I always have, I know now that I always will. I thought that I could live with you marrying her and me not being a part of your life, as long as you were happy. And I can," I nodded. "I really can," I felt the tears starting to bubble up, I had to leave. "But I had to try." I took a steadying breath and looked around again. "I'll, uh, I'll be outside for a bit, hoping." I turned and went back outside and sat on the steps. Fear, doubt, and hope all warring inside my chest, my heart threatening to explode. The adrenaline coursing through my veins had me up and pacing after a few moments as the seconds stretched into minutes.
It wasn't long until I heard a cheer and my heart shattered.
Nodding I walked down the steps, left a little box on top of the limo and headed off.
Patrick and his new bride climbed into the limo, the driver handed them the little box before getting in and driving them off to the reception.
"What's that?" Tess asked, pointing to the box Patrick opened.
He was starring down into the box, a look of astonishment frozen on his features as he passed the box to Tess. She took out a slip of paper and marveled.
"Congrats, hope you achieve your dreams, Eve." She smiled. "How much money is that?"
"Knowing Eve, that'll be the ten thousand to get you out of debt."
Yeah, it's sappy I know. But the prompt called for 750 words or less. This clocks in at 661. Sad ending, I wonder what that says about me. Actually feeling rather sad lately, hmm… oh well. KBO.
One day you wake up to find your dog/cat waiting for you at the side of your bed, sitting on your briefcase. Cocking its head, it tells you, in perfect English, that you won't be going to work today. Why won't your pet let you go to work, and what happens?
I opened my eyes; I hated waking up, from fantasy land to mediocre land in a few wispy moments. I groaned as my eyes adjusted to see my cat sitting on my work bag. He cocked his head to one side and opened his mouth.
"You won't be going into work today." Jack said and then grinned a wide toothy grin.
I blinked and looked around. I was in my apartment, my clothes for the day lying next to my work bag. My alarm clock was two minutes shy of going off, and I sat up.
"Okay," I chuckled. "I get it, I'm still sleeping."
"No you're not," Jack assured me and stopped grinning. "Though I can't prove it just yet," he sighed and shook his head. "You need to trust me Jessica, you are awake, I am talking to you, and we need to leave."
"Yeah," I rubbed his head and crawled out of bed heading for the bathroom.
"Jesse," he hissed. "Stop this!" He jumped on the sink and slapped the toothbrush out of my hand. "We have to get out of here now!" he fluffed up. "If I'm lying and this is a dream then what does it matter?"
"Exactly," I picked up my toothbrush and ran it under the faucet.
Jack growled. "Fine, this is a dream and we need to leave because the zombies are coming!"
I narrowed my eyes and looked at him. Even in dreams zombies weren't to be messed with. "Fine," I sighed. "Let me grab my clothes we'll leave before the zombies get here."
"Hurry!" He ran to the front room as I grabbed my clothes and quickly dressed. I grabbed my bag and hurried to the front door where he was waiting for me.
"Where are we going to go?"
"I thought you had a zombie escape plan." He said sarcastically.
"Well I do," I said opening the door and scooping him into my arms. "But you're the one who says their coming, figured you had a plan."
"We get in the car; we drive as fast as we can to the north."
"Anywhere in particular?" I asked jogging down the stairs and into the parking lot.
"No," he grunted and climbed onto my shoulder. "Just north, hurry!"
"Pushy," I got into the car and turned the key. The engine roared to life and we headed out of the parking lot and toward the interstate.
"We can travel on that road," he was looking at the interstate. "Only for a little while, when the bomb- I mean, Zombies, happen, it'll get crowded quickly."
"Zombies, bombs, four skeletal horsemen riding demon nightmares bringing on the apocalypse," he shrugged with a grin. "What does it matter, you're only dreaming right? Any minute now your alarm clock will wake you up and this will just be a wispy cloud of nothing."
"Oddly I'm beginning to rethink that thought."
"As you should," his whiskers twitched. "That scale tops at one-four-zero," Jack said looking at the speedometer.
"Why are you only hovering at the six-zero?"
"Speed limit." I said.
"If you're dreaming, you won't get into trouble yeah?" He said slowly and I nodded tentatively. "So go faster."
I looked into his green eyes and applied more pressure to the pedal, the needle drifting over the arch quickly.
We had just made it out of the city limits and entered the rural farm land when he jumped into the backseat.
"Pull over," he said quietly and I obeyed.
I got out of car and looked back to the city I had grown up in, to the city I had lost my parents to, where I had loved, and lost and watched as the dawn light gleamed off a small cylindrical object that grew bigger as it got closer.
"It's the end of the world as we know it, Jesse."
That's interesting, I wrote those before I owned an orange cat named Jack, but he didn't have green eyes. And zombies are never to be messed with, they were in my dream for a bit last night, got bit on the arm before the dream scenario changed. Moving on…
I figured out Frere Jacques in Solfege, itsy bitsy spider is still eluding me. Last night I was watching Street Fighter the Legend of Chun-Li and I liked it. Painted my nails pink, big mistake, I need to get it off!! Pink is for the pinky, but I couldn't locate the black, or the nail polish remover. Frere Jacques is mostly played on 2 strings with 2 notes on a 3rd string. Like Frere Jacques I think the Itsy Bitsy Spider will also be a 3 string song which makes it crucial to learn. Cazzo! I left my rosin at home!!
Tried it again, I think it may actually be all 4 strings!! This'll be interesting to play. But work is not the environment in which to be practicing the violin. Work is for work, and my spreadsheets are not looking right. Oh I was at Best Buy the other day buying new toys and I saw the collector's edition of Assassins Creed Brotherhood! It's $100 but it comes with a Doctor in the Box! Like a Jack-in-the-box but it's the Doctor! Not The Doctor, but the Doctor!! I love the Doctor, I've got a Doctor Charm on my necklace! Dumb-dumb thought I got it strictly because of Assassins Creed, idiot. I like the history of these masks, the ones with the long nose. In the old days of the Plague (old because there are recent outbreaks of Plague up north, like Santa Fe) the doctors would treat patients with these masks on and they would stuff the long noses with rags and flowers and cloves- they thought that if they could not smell the death and decay that it could not touch them. I don't know if that story is for real or if it is just a good story, but I like it.
I also want to learn Italian, partly because of AC, but mostly because I like that language. I've resigned myself that I'll never learn Crow, which I think is sad, we're Native America's, my siblings and me, but we were raised away from that, shielded from that influence and raised white. It's boring, disgusting and fucked up. But what can you do about it? So… Italian. Yes. BUT for now, I am off to violin practice!
To days to come,
I feel weak, tried to eat something, tried to walk around, just want to sleep.
to days to come,
Oops, I left this at work last night. Many people do not believe in Hell, Satan or demons, I was surprised by that fact, if there is a Heaven, a G-d and angels there certainly must be an opposite. If there is no opposite then man does not have Free Will. But anyways, here's my point: my grandmother use to cast out demons from people. She was very good, but this also made her a high target for bad things. One day, close to Easter, my mother walks into a home where her mother is casting out a demon and my mom is shocked to see it's one of her favorite cousins. This cousin is gay and had been acting very strangely and G-ma was going to cast out a demon and mom was watching and she said her cousin started swaying back and forth. "It was a snake demon, swaying back and forth, so hypnotizing that you wanted to sway with it." I thought about the King Cobra, and indeed many other snakes, they sway back and forth and their victim begins to follow it and then the snake, quick as lightening, strikes and kills. "And then," she continued. "It started laughing. 'Why are you laughing?' my mother asked it, and you should never talk to a demon, that invites them in, but she was casting a demon out and to do so you must talk to it. The demon kept laughing but said in a childish voice that shouldn't have been produced from my cousin 'Just ask the rabbit, go ask the rabbit.' It was close to Easter and the day is so skewed in religion. This is a day that many people come to church, once in the whole year, perhaps twice, so they come to church but then they go home and decorate eggs, hide the eggs, say the Easter bunny hid them and play those games. Anyways, she told me this past weekend, and it's been in my head ever since.
When to toss spices:
•Ground spices (nutmeg, cinnamon, turmeric): 2 to 3 years
•Herbs (basil, oregano, parsley): 1 to 3 years
•Seasoning blends: 1 to 2 years
•Whole spices (cloves, peppercorns, cinnamon sticks): 4 years
•Seeds: 4 years (except for poppy and sesame seeds, which should be discarded after 2 years)
•Extracts: 4 years (except for vanilla, which will last forever)
I need to buy me some glass containers, but I might wait until the patio is built out. It'll be great to have all that extra space, I can move the papasan chair outside, move the kitchen table to the tin shed, move the wooden bar to the kitchen, move the large mirror to the tin shed as well. I do love this place, practiced my violin yesterday until my shoulder was killing me. Pulled weeds, killed another elm, I need to finish that paper before tonight's class, and if I am lucky I'll see Sinclair again tonight.
I need to learn to read musical notes.
Cooking is nice, but it's best when there is someone to cook for. Bringing treats for co-workers only gets you so far before the loneliness starts to kill you.
To days to come,
Sometimes I seriously HATE that I cannot write about what goes on at work, "it can be misconstrued by any possible reader and you can get into serious trouble for it." To which my response is "What the fuck ever happened to freedom of speech?" a reply back was "Oh that only applies to the Westboro Baptist Church and other insane people. Even if you're in the private sector you can't write on the internet about your work because it can be construed as you speaking on behalf of the company." So I figure, what if I put up a disclaimer? But for this it just wouldn't work, people are mean and would probably do things with my words that I would never intend to happen.
I mean it's not like I would write anything bad, what happens here at my job are funny things. Jokes I wish I could repeat, actions I wish I could share because, to me at least, they are so funny and they make this place really relaxing and fun to work around. The people, while not exactly 'trusting' are comfortable enough around each other to smile and laugh and joke without getting hurt about it and it's great! Just sucks to know that this is not always the case with this job and these types of people. So, alas, I am set to talk about other things, and to keep these hilarious memories to myself, sharing them only by tongue with others who'll listen. Such is life.
As is life, people die, and funerals are had. Yesterday's post was so short because by the time I got home I was so tired I just crashed for a few hours, woke up, cleaned a little and tried to sober up then went back to bed around 1am. As per tradition, there won't be talking about the 'funeral' if you can even call it that. SO I got home, crashed and when I woke up I was slightly hung over, drank a lot of water, ate some fruit and stared at my stove. That grease trap I had been meaning to clean for a while. Well, this past weekend I went with Owl Woman to the Dollar Tree and I was looking at the cleaning supplies just laughing to myself, like any of that crappy one buck shit'll work. But OW bought me a bottle of LA's Totally Awesome Orange! I was thinking, her loss, but eh, what the hell, it's just a buck. So last night I pull out the orange bottle and spray down the stove, watched as nothing fantastic happened, then grabbed a wet sponge and wiped and… holy shit… it worked. I was shocked! I use to clean this fucking stove with Lysol wipes and a shitload of elbow grease and JUST LIKE THAT the scuzziness was gone!! Yes I was very shocked, and happy, the stovetop is clean and I found a new cleaner that works! Just have to put it in a new bottle, that bottle trigger leaks like crazy.
I found a website that'll help me train Artemis, I want to train her in basic obedience then move on to performing service dog techniques. I was thinking if she does good and performs well I can give her to brobro, that'll break my heart to see her go, but he needs a dog, and for his ptsd I think it'll be great. And if it doesn't work then it doesn't work, she's a fantastic dog through and through and whether or not she masters the service dog training or not she'll always have a home and be greatly loved.
LOL! So I am playing Angry Birds, have been at this one level all day and brobro comes up to talk to me and I shoot my last bird and miss the monkey, but the crate slowly starts to tip and I stare at the tipping crate, slow, slowly, inching forward and my brother busts out laughing. "You look like Blaze! Slightly cross-eyed with this intense fascination look on your face!" AND THE MONKEY TIPPED OVER AND DIED! YESS!!! Finally onto a new level, but that can wait until tonight. I have a paper to write, I should really do that.
http://www.dog-obedience-training-review.com/ Here's a site to help me train Artemis, I also bought a sheepherder's whistle. She comes most of the time when I whistle a two-tone pitch, but I cannot whistle very loud so I figured I would buy a whistle that was meant to cut through wind and rain and distance. I bought brobro's birthday present, I got my tribal verification from Lonna Cloud back too, that makes me super happy, now I can file for eagle feathers. That I've been meaning to do for years now, get eagle feather and present them to Owl Woman and Kazuzu for all that they have done for me.
When I was in my associates program I was doing good, making good grades and chugging along. In the last term I was taking an online course along with Rosey and he was having a really hard time with it, his mother was sick, contracted MRSA, his pregnant sister was sick and the unborn child wasn't doing well either and he was falling behind in his classes. So I gave him one of my assignments to help him understand what had to be done. He did his own work, but he accidentally turned in mine. We nearly got kicked out of school. I was already nominated for National Honors Society but that got revoked and we would have been kicked out of ITT but Roque, a really great teacher, he stood up for us. He explained that Rosey did his work and that I just gave him my paper to help him understand it better and that Rosey needed the help because he was having a lot of family crisis issues that I was just helping him out so he wouldn't fail. We got heavy reprimands, and weren't allowed to take online classes together anymore. Even now Roque points out how much help I (and the rest of our crew) were giving him, he's already failed 2 classes and dropped down to a part time student since the reprimands. Rosey can do everything on his own, but he needs someone kicking his backside to keep up. Roque is another person I want to present an eagle feather to, I know he's greatly appreciate the gesture. He's Chickasaw and Cherokee, grew up in Louisiana and told me that bamboo is NOT something you want in your garden. He says it grows fast, it spreads like a weed, and the root system is so tight that no water gets under it which creates a perfect habitat for mice and rats, and if you get mice and rats you will get snakes! Normally not a bad thing, but the most common snake around here is the rattlesnake. Not so good. I think AJ is trying to grow bamboo in a section of the garden, Imma have to double check that and tell her what Roque told me.
So standing at my desk, I need to find a way to better type, oh I think I might have found it. Black box, yellow phone book, and white phone book and now I am typing comfortably. Just gotta make sure my knees don't lock, that'll be funny if I pass out- well, not funny for me, but bossman would get a laugh out of it. I am not so sleepy when I am standing at my desk; I feel more awake.
I nearly have that May Song down pat, now I am working on my bow hand keeping steady and strong and not stopping when my left hand fingers stop. Moving independent of each other and not hesitating, that's the hard part. But I'll get there, I know I will. Also another problem I seem to be having is bow pressure and bow-string transferring. I keep getting squeakys!
Likewise my nails are growing long and strong not use to having them grow like this; but it's nice. But anyways, enough procrastinating, I need to get this paper done since I really don't want to be stuck doing it tonight or tomorrow in a hurry.
Oh… I might need my other book for this too. Oops. I also seem to have misplaced my iPod.
To days to come,
Also the movie Calendar Girls is a good funny movie. I like it.
To days to come,
And before I forget:
Do Mi Sol Do La Do La Sol Fa Sol Mi Do Re Do
Sol Sol Fa Fa Mi Sol Mi Re
Sol Sol Fa Fa Mi Sol Mi Re
Do Mi Sol Do La Do La Sol Fa Sol Mi Do Re Do
Teacher tried to teach me this song at violin lessons today, I am still very distracted and only was able to sort of get the first line done but was tripping on the last Sol Me Do Re Do.... gr, but I will practice like crazy and I will go to lessons next week with this whole song ready for her.
to days to come
I'm Sorry I Couldn't Go
by Nny Christie on Monday, 11 April 2011 at 03:35am
but I still know the song and the words and her name and the reasons
I know death happens. It happens all the time in the world. It happens to everyone. It's always been in the periphery of my life. There was a near miss (the only one my family informed me of - I dunno how many more there may have been) in my junior year when my brother was on his second tour in Iraq - that (known) single near miss had me acting out in Creative Writing class to the point a classmate had to take me outside to calm me down. But despite the near miss, I've never had it strike so close before in a time of my life that I'm so acutely aware of its inevitability. And I know it's useless to ask "why? Why her?" and to say "it's not fair" is as useless to say as it is true. Truthfully, life isn't fair; death is inevitable. And I'm still asking, "Why? Why her? It's not fair. She was a good person. God, she was a wonderful, beautiful, warm person who thought only of bringing joy and laughter to the people in her life. She listened! She helped! When she was wrong she knew and had no shame or hesitation to make amends! And she had courage! She was a light in everybody's life. So loved."
Oh, I know, the best we can do is keep her and her family and friends in our prayers and remember her all our lives. Remember her for her compassion and honor those memories. Dear friends, former roommates, current ones, you know, I love you all. I truthfully do. To those who I haven't talked to in ages, I'm sorry. I should reach out more. You have all brought something into my life that I adore. Let's make amends for what we've wronged - and I know I have wronged plenty.
I take care of an old lady, and she has been on the brink of death. It's been pulling at my heart and memories, for I was never close to my grandparents. I never really had the opportunities to spend time with them. I didn't attend their funerals. And I think it's because of my absence at their funerals that I never really felt the full impact of their passing. They all passed naturally. I can really accept that. And seeing this lady unable to move from her bed for anything makes me miss them. And I think the reason this death impacts me so is that she wasn't old.
God, she wasn't old at all, and with her spirit, even had she made it to her 90s she would seem so young and radiant. She was a mother, a friend, a source of strength and compassion. A true light in a world that seems to work so mercilessly. I loved her wholly for that compassion which seemed to pour from her endlessly. And her laughter, how she laughed! My most distinct memory is hanging out with her in the room she shared with Dustin, Daniel and Tudy one sunny afternoon with Florida. We were discussing the aimlessness that Florida and I felt in our lives; it was a year of transition for all of us. And she told us we just had to go, just live and pursue happiness and never worry about the rest of the world. She was living proof of it, Florida, too. And she told us her story, and I couldn't help admire her courage to do what she did even if at the time I also thought it seemed a bit ridiculous but I was glad for her presence! And she made us laugh, and told us a story of when she met Keanu Reeves, of her obsession with that actor! I teased her for it, but she didn't care, and she laughed, and we laughed. That afternoon was so sunny and warm, in December.
To express my appreciation and love for you all on Facebook seems so impersonal. I expect to see you all face-to-face some time soon to let you know with a smile and a hug. It's easy to take for granted the importance to let people in your life know how you care for them. To let distance be an excuse for silence. While truthfully, I am the type of person to not really ever keep in touch but upon a reunion will always be willing to pick up where we left off, but I forget, too, how important it is to let the distant friends know how I still love and care for them, too. I need to regain a few numbers that have been lost. Message me.
It's terrible of me, but I don't know if I can get the time off for the funeral. I'm going to try my best.
young boys, young girls, ain't supposed to die on a Saturday night.
Life's not fair, and I keep trying to tell myself if it was, it wouldn't be worth living. But people shouldn't die this young. I am worried about my little sister, she's never had to deal with death this close before. Me and brobro we've tried to keep her from a lot pain of this fucked up world, maybe that's wrong us, maybe it's not, but we've never had to protect her from this. But maybe 22 years old is an okay age to start dealing with this sort of hurt, it's a lot better than having to face it when you're still a young child. "For the next few weeks, keep a close eye on her." I told her if she needs absolutely anything to tell me and I will drop everything and help her.
Anyways, on to different topics before I start crying here at work…
My body is rebelling against me- months ago, before I was even paying attention, I was out drinking with some friends and I had a couple of shots, tequila, whiskey, nothing that would ground me and I know my limits! The next morning I had a killer headache and my stomach just hated me. I brushed it off, whatever, must have just eaten something bad. Then my body rebelled against cigarettes and I, begrudgingly, became a nonsmoker. Last night, I was at pool with Little Bit and as per tradition, I took a shot for the lost soul. Johnnie Walker Black Label, one of my favorite Irish whiskies then proceeded to have my regular beers (Blue Moon) and try to smile and have fun. Oh yeah I had fun, it was a great night, nearly died laughing once. Anyways, I get home, I am not feeling tipsy or light headed or anything, I feel good and I get ready and go to bed. Wake up at 2am and my stomach just frikkin HATES me! I got to thinking about it, use to be I wouldn't drink beer, in all my years of drinking, beer is a new thing. I've always been a hard liquor, straight shot kinda chick, but in the last year or so my body has not been so accepting of hard liquor. Vodka and Tequila I haven't had much problems with but Bourbon, Whiskey, Brandies… my body isn't taken them anymore. They tear up my stomach and intestines, make me vomit, give me killer headaches and just being overall crappy! Damnit! I love whiskey!! Bourbon and Brandy I can make do without, and fine, Whiskey I can too, but damn it, really! Really? I know this can be a good thing, my body not accepting my vices anymore but I do find it a little weird, I mean, is it normal for the human body to just suddenly not like something anymore? My mind wants it, I crave things so badly- like cigarettes, I see people smoking and I want to smoke, I watch a certain movie or listen to a certain song which had a strong link in my mind and I really REALLY want to smoke but if I do I get light headed, nauseated, and it really SUCKS!!
WHAT THE FUC< IS WRONG WITH YOU!
New note, I want to go eat at Lin's but I haven't anyone to go with. Gr.
Statistics class tonight and I haven't a clue what'll be covered on the test. I need to scour the book and write down some notes for the quiz for tonight. But for now, it's lunch time, I need to run to the bank and deposit my per capita. Brobro got his and he's going to fix his car, I get mine and I am going to have my bike rebuilt. :)
Shit, I forgot my tax information! I have a meeting with Vivian at 530! Okay, gonna use my comp time to run home and get my paperwork. I can't believe I forgot it, well… yes I can. I was so sleepy and slightly hung over this morning it took me forever to crawl out of bed and feed the animals. Blaze was sitting on my pillow and meowing in my ear to wake me up. Artie kept trying to get her nose under me and push me off the bed. And Ahriman… well, Ahriman just watched me.
Well, the end is here, of work anyways, and I must return home then violin classes, then statistics classes. Good night.
To days to come,
My sister had an acquaintance only 35 years old who suffered from mini strokes and was going to see the doctor for more tests and treatment when swelling in her brain put her into a coma, then brain death. They are taking her off life support in the morning. My older sister has a friend, a woman she use to ride with and who she still hangs out with regularly. She's 39 years old, suffered lot 'chronic heart burn' then friday, two weeks ago, had a heart attack. Turns out the 'heart burn' was actually mini heart attacks. She's alive, she's quit smoking as well.
35 and 39 years old and these women are going through such things. It's enough to make a person worry about the twinges of chest pain and the prolonged throbbing of head pain. But I went to the doctor once saying sometimes I get these sharp searing pain in the left side of chest, I was 23 at the time, had suffered these sharp pains ever since I could remember. The doctor said I was too young to be feeling such pain and that I was probably making it up. I fucking hate doctors, nearly as much as I hate police.
Anyways, finally did some grocery shopping, have to go buy meat tomorrow, or monday. Began a lot of cleaning in the casita but since no one was here to keep me company I turned on some music, got bored, turned on some movies... bad move. I kept stopping to watch the movies, as if I dont know how it'll end! I got some simple organizing done, some dishes were washed, bathroom was cleaned but I really need to sweep and mop and finish putting shit away. I want to either eat at the kitchen table or move it outside!
AJ is building up the porch of the casita. There will be a wall half way built up inside the posts, then mosquito netting draped around the rest. This will, hopefully, keep most of this damn dust and rock out of my tiny casita. I really appreciate the movement from her. We were talking about the growing elms and how they needed to be cut down and killed, the other day I got home early so I went around uprooting as many of them as I could find and marking their locations. When she got home I asked where she kept the poison and she showed me and she helped me take down the young tree in the back and I poisoned the rest of the rootings and she said thanks. 'Really, thanks, everyone says they'll help with the yard but they usually just go half to pay someone else to come in.' I laughed, why pay for someone else to do it when the greatest sense of accomplishment comes from doing it yourself? But I didn't say that to her, I just laughed, said any time, and came back to my casita.
I love this place, it's small, but it's cozy.
Anyways, time to try to clean the stove top, watch the rest of Hidalgo then nip off to bed.The dogs are already asleep, chasing whatever in their dreams. Outside the temperature is dropping, wouldn't be surprised if it was snowing.
To days to come,
It's not as if I am particularly worried about the shut down, whatever happens I know I'll survive it and come through the other side, and while I might dirty my fluffy white tail, I will in any manner still be surviving. Nearly the 8 o'clock hour and not many people have come into work yet. Contractors are here, but I haven't seen many Feds, can't blame them, I too had thought of taking this day off. But anyways…
Henson brought me tropical starburst yesterday in class, yucky pina colada, but the other three were okay. I was able to my wrapper chain longer, heh, yay. I really need to clean out the casita, when Pete builds out the patio I'll be so happy. I'm genuinely shocked that Jewel is going through with that, Happy, but shocked. Either way it'll be great, I will put my papasan chair out there, lay down a few more carpets, get some garden lights and hang them up. It'll be brilliant. Pier 1 has this spiffy bench like papasan chair, that's cool, I won't buy it but still cool to look at. I want to learn to juggle 3 things and more. I can juggle two, but haven't accomplished 3. Oh noes, just got a hold of Angry Birds RIO- this is an evil game.
Bossman took JP and me to lunch over at Lin's, $31 for the 3 of us, I thought that was pretty good. But Christ! I told myself I would just eat until I am not hungry- not stuffed, just not hungry. 4 plates later I'm still hungry! I figured I had better stop anyways, ya know, just in case. But their cheese wontons were AMAZING! The veggie shrimp was great, mushroom chicken brilliant, their tea was a little watered down, I like a good strong tea. But man, I was so happy with that food, Imma havta take Kazuzu there when she gets in. I don't want to write about what happens at work since that could cause all sorts of trouble but it sucks, really sucks! Because there are funny things that people say around here that I can't write about because not everyone appreciates the type of humor that is cast around here. Everyone wants a stick shoved so far up their ass they can taste it… oops… that could be too far right there too! It's sad to think what this stupid world is coming to- you can get in trouble just because someone takes offense to a harmless joke. And everyone's skeptical of everyone and you can't trust anyone because everyone lies and a person's word is no longer worth shit. Sad, sad times…
Oh, so I got a lot of responses from the CL ad, and it's amazing how many people just cannot understand simple directions! I got 20 responses, that's pretty good I think, but of the 20 only 6 replied with the proper Subject title "Put your favorite bar in the subject line to weed out spam". So we're down to 6- one wants to be a sugar daddy (twice your age, 6'0), one wants babies (you up for that), one mega hottie is a father of two, another one just doesn't strike me as interesting, another one is a father of 2 and the last one I'm to mention, yet one of the first responders, is a Navajo, father of a 3yr old, and attends ITT. We've been emailing for a while, but I mention all of this because last night I saw a co-worker at school, he's a teacher so I go and bug him at school sometimes and he's in class with one student who turns around to glance at who his instructor is talking to. I smiled at the student and then smiled at teacher trying to win over a few McDonald's fries when it dawns on me. I turn back to the student and say a name and he turns around again and looks at me then it dawns on him. It was the guy I was emailing! It was cool, totally by chance running into him there but it was great meeting him face to face finally. We chatted a bit before I heard someone hiss at me and I ran back to class. That was cool. And just now Volpe came in and we bantered a bit before he walked off to work, that made me happy. That nightmare still gives me shivers.
I've never really been big on people with kids before, Dragonfly excluded from that. It's not that I am against kids, it's just that when you're a parent, your priorities change, and for a lot of people, no one is more important than a kid- and that is not wrong, I am not saying that's wrong, I just, I just don't feel like I should be second. And I don't say that to sound all high and mighty and better than everyone else- I know I'm not. But I just want a relationship that is free of children, I want to be the center of a guys world as he would be the center of mine- and I know that can just as well happen with a guy who has kids which is why I have no problem chatting with the Dine man, *sigh* I don't know… I listen to what my mom went through when she married dad and he had 3 kids and there were so many times she's nearly walked away. They gave her hell, and still to this day, 30 some odd years later they aren't always civil to her. Not to mention my little sister… But there's also the experience I had with Wolfie and all that lovely drama. Ren up and left one morning leaving Wolfie and me with the 3 children and in no time flat the youngest one, JJ, he was calling me 'mommy' and I was shocked and Wolfie was shocked but we both knew why. I spent time with the kids, Ren was always listening to music on her headphones or on the internet… anyways, needless to say that got seriously messy when Ren came back she just about had a cow.
First time young, second time stupid…
But it's nearly impossible to find a single Native American man, drug free, kid free, and not a rampant drunk or homosexual! Or married, or seeing someone. Hmm, I wonder what it would be like to have a sugar daddy.
Well, enough being whingy, I've got me some foam to prop my violin up on my shoulder, a bucket full of coffee grounds for my compost which is coming along nicely. I need to run up to the hot chick at the glasses store and ask her to repair my glasses, stupid dogs knocked them off the table in the middle of the night and tramped them! Stupid dogs! It's past 1500, it's time to get shit together and head out. Fix glasses, go home and start cleaning. Fun weekend, and come Monday report to work and see if I got furloughed.
To days to come,
When I did finally get up again Blaze was on the table, she chewed a hole into the new bag of kibble I bought for her and she was eating so I pick her up and I guess she didn’t hear me because she freaked out. Hissing and spitting, her fur instantly stood up and she was trying to scratch me and I nearly dropped her I was laughing so hard. I apologized and put a big handful in her bowl. That was just great. Something is wrong with our internet connection, it is taking forever and timing out 3 out of 4 times! Gr…
Oh my god the internet is slow and then my timekeeper is getting on my back “Why didn’t you do your timesheet yourself?” my initial response would be “I am FUCKING trying but the GODDAMN internet is too FUCKING slow and it keeps timing me out!” yea I didn’t cuss at her, but seriously, I’m this fucking CLOSE!
Ahriman is so cute here! Pre-shave dog there, I’ve never seen him do that before, but I hear Great Danes
So I have been working on many things today, an important one is putting in the paperwork for a permit request of eagle feathers. Waiting on a form from Crow Agency from Ms. Good Luck to get back to me, waiting is such a pain in the ass. At least I am here late tonight and am in early tomorrow so if Colleen wants to take her precious time filling out my form then so-be-it! I just really want to have this paperwork done before Friday
My starburst chain is coming along, I remember doing things like this when I was younger, we’d make bracelets and such things, fun times. I am so frikkin tired it’s not even funny. Also, got a couple of responses from some native guys, none as cute as the eyecandy I saw walking in the hall the other day, wouldn’t that just be perfect if it were though eh? But I figure, I really need to start dating at least, won’t hurt to get out there and try again. Well, it probably will hurt, but I’ll survive. I always do. And I always will.
Here are a couple of tattoos that were designed by my friend that I want to get done on my somewhere. He designed them for a game character that he was working on and I just loved the idea so much that he sent me the hi res so I can get them done. As I write this I wonder if it’ll transfer into the email program neatly and then onto my blog nicely. I really hope it does, but wouldn’t be surprised if it didn’t.
Nope, didn’t work, also, I’m beginning to cough like mad again, I really need to do another sinus rinse, I shouldn’t have stopped really. Time to try another approach.