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"Still defying fortune's spite; revive from ashes and rise." |
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“The phoenix hope, can wing her way through the desert skies, and still defying fortune's spite; revive from ashes and rise.” ~ Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra   To read former musings and shenanigans check out my prior blog:
To read future, more bizarre ramblings, check out:
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| What a year. A bit of bust blogging wise, but it has been quite a ride all the way around. There has been definite good (got to be with my significant other for two weeks, visited Belfast and fell in love with the city, made some new friends along the way, realizing I can't get drunk, finding out that I've got a lot more strength than I thought I had...) and there has been some definite bad (sole person to witness a heart attack, witnessing my grandfather go through a seizure, defining my relationship with my significant other, having a little major minor break down during my fall semester, increase in insomnia, failing a class for the first time...). This year marks the first time I've taken a long, leave of absence from WDC. It was necessary. Something, that while couldn't be helped, really put things into perspective. I love it here. This place has gotten me through some of my hardest times throughout the past couple of years, but I found that I couldn't continue on with something I loved when everything else around me was falling to bits. 2010 was trying, but I survived. And you know what they say about surviving. The next year should prove to be interesting. In the works is an out-of-state move to Washington, a transfer to a new college, rebuilding my social structure once again, finding a part-time job in the fall, possibly heading out to the Mid-West to see a certain someone, finally taking the plunge and writing a non-Nano novel for a change, and what ever else shenanigans that will be coming my way. 2011 is a new year and the start of something completely different. I'll be starting a new blog to keep everything fresh, so if anyone is still reading keep a look out. May you find many smiles and blessings this coming year. New Blog: "Follow the Fortune Cookie"  |
...Music... Listening to Flogging Molly a lot in the past week. Before that was a great deal of down-in-the-gutter jazz and tear-out-your-heart blues in honor of a brilliant mind that is slowly leaving this world. I'm trying to get into the mood for my flight and living in Belfast. I'm not quite there yet but Flogging Molly is good for any occasion. ...Life... Life is a hectic, chaotic mess. I've been away for a while, and I don't know if and when I will return. There's too much none trip-related going on for me to be keeping up. My absence was abrupt and has now become a slow fade. To be honest, I'm not sure I can afford a renewal of membership. This leaves me with a deep sense of sorrow but not surprise. Everyone is cornered with choices - what matters more? I made my choice without hesitation and have no regret except that my goodbye may not be what I had planned. For those of you wondering what happened and were expecting/needing me for something - I apologize with all my will. This was not planned nor was it intentional to leave you hanging with anything pending. I will try to do my best to fulfill anything you need during my time left. My grandfather is sick. The family has finally come to conclusion that he has Alzheimer's. It has been approaching this for a while, but we're a family that operates with a deep sense of denial until the point of maximum capacity. I say this with all sarcasm as I can muster. It drives me crazy and only makes losing him that much for painful. He is my hero, my doorway into to so many of my loves. And although his body is still here, much of him is not. I've been trekking and calling and conversing with my father and various relatives over the past month. I might move up there with them should things turn and my grandmother is willing. Of all things I'd go with my mom, their ex-daughter-in-law. She has the most experience out of us all and if anyone could make a situation go smoothly, it's my mom. There are other things that have taken my attention as well, things too close to me and others, things that are too personal to share even here. It is enough to say that it holds my mind in a cage and my heart in turmoil. If there was a wish to make something better, my wish would go here. Unfortunately, all I can do is pray and hope, two things I've never really been good at, lol. It was also my birthday in June - I'm 22. Where did the time go? LOL Speaking of birthdays, my bestest pal in the world - Lonewolf  has a birthday today. 29! I have sent along many a greetings to make him thankful that we are separated by thousands of miles. (Don't worry, Wolf. The birthday clown nightmares are only temporary...hopefully  ) Happy Birthday, Chris!!!So, just to recap: Life is a chaotic mess that will drive me over the edge one day. I'm getting on a plane and traveling across the ocean to Belfast the Saturday of the 17th. Lonewolf is 29 today! And yes, you should shower him with gifts, praise, scary clown pictures, and anything else you can think of.  How's your piece of the planet working out for you? |
| (The Music) A song by U.N.K.L.E. Very trippy video. I definitely enjoy the lyrics. Take a listen. (The Life)) What do you do with major time on your hands? The paper is finished. I had a near-fatal breakdown but I got it done. It didn't run out half bad but by the time I handed it in I didn't really care at that point. Thanks, BTW, to A.T.B: It'sWhatWeDo  . I'm glad to know there are others out there with similar experiences.I haven't been on much, and for those waiting for reviews and replies to email, I'm sorry. Those may seem hollow but they are sincere. I'm trying to get my act together. This hasn't been my best showing. I was fried. Still slightly crispy. But things are coming back together. The decision to take nothing but Tai Chi this summer until I head off to Ireland was a hard one. Yet, given my weird state-of-mind, probably for the best. I don't want to jinx myself. I'm getting on that damn plane in July. I just need some time off. I haven't done that in over a decade. I think it's time. But what do you do with severe amounts of time on your hands? I think...more like overthink. And I remember. And I ponder those shadows that have been following my around since I was little. And I try so very hard to not get angry or bitter or sweat something that I have no power in changing. That night with my paper I came unglued. I was talking with my guy and I was frustrated and so very tired, but I couldn't for the life of me explain why. I couldn't tell him why I was tired. I've been running off pure mental power for so long I didn't have the words...but then he gave me a little push and told me he could take whatever I had to lay on him. Maybe I said it out of spite or anger but I took him at his word. The sheer verbal sewage that came pouring out was quite awkward to look at days later. I told him everything I had thought and felt, every dark little thing I carry with me. Some it he knew, others of it he had guessed. I laid it out at his feet. And it didn't stop there. I said somewhat of the same thing to my mom, in one of the longest sentences spoken in this lifetime without a breath taken. I told her why I couldn't take it anymore. How I wished things in life were a little bit fairer. Just a little. That I didn't want to have to fight an uphill battle every damn time. Everything came out, well, almost everything. She gave me a hug. That type of mom hug that takes you back to when you were small and the world was still not as fucked up as it was going to be when you got older. I felt four again when things were still somewhat okay and mom could fix everything that went wrong in the universe. Then I talked with my guy. He didn't sugarcoat anything, but said the absolute best thing to say in a moment of insanity. If there was ever a doubt to how much I feel and trust about him, it died then because he is the best friend a person could have. One of the only people I feel safe enough to lean on for a second when everything seems lost. So I've been thinking a lot and wondering and trying to find the courage to write again. There is a story, deep inside, that I should write to clear the shadows. We all have them, those ghosts that attach themselves to our bodies and minds, feeding off those less than stellar moments. I think during this next month I'll write it. For what do you do with major time on your hands? |
| I shouldn't be writing this. I should be writing, but not this. I should be neck-deep in sociological theory and churning out intelligent phrases that will impress my professor when she gets to the bottom of her stack of papers. There are three hours left to the semester and then I'm finished. I will be able to finally put this semester to rest. But I'm tired. And crazy. And so exhausted beyond measure that I want nothing more than to be put out of my misery. There is a bed in my room but I can't touch it. Not yet. Not until this paper is submitted, fully quoted and actualized. It's not that it is difficult. I took an oral life history of a former drug dealer turned hospice aid who is probably one of the warmest, gentlest people I know. She was honest and brave and told every detail of what did in order to feed her family. And she gave it to me to write my paper. I have the notes typed and the conversations recorded. I just need to throw in some theory and I'm done. But my mind is so damn slow. The sugar has worn off. I went to the coffee shop and bought the most sugar-ridden, caffeine injected, caramel monstrosity of the java bean to keep my senses about me. It has taken a half dozen years off my life and left me jittery as all hell, but I still can't get the words out. The pressure of time isn't even hitting the high notes. Today was day that should have been many things. Happy, love-filled, joyous. A celebration of loyalty and commitment and perseverance. Instead it was full of stress and absence and longing. And there is no rest on the horizon nor glimpse of something better. A friend offered a hitman. Not in the budget. My older brother offer a sock in the shoulder and his famous "suck it up" speech. I kicked in the shin. My mom offered optimism. That died about a week ago. I've got nothing. No more cards. No more sense. No more...nothing. And I've still got three hours to kill. Five bucks to the person who is willing to whack someone on a budget. No? Can't blame a girl for trying. |
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| ((The Music)) This was one of my favorite songs when I was a little girl twirling around the room because just plain walking was a bore. Gene Wilder does an excellent job with this song, creating an atmosphere that closes "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory" with a touch of whimsy. Is there really any place better than a world of pure imagination? Or is that just me? ((The Life)) I'm alive, and I'm back. The family is doing better, although the edges are still pretty frayed. Dealing with the emergencies and intricacies of family is like running through a maze blindfolded and a pack of hounds nipping at your heels. There are many wrong turns, but once you run through the damn thing a few times, its okay. My writing has taken a hit on all fronts. I'm so behind (surprise, surprise) I can't stand it. For the past couple of days I've been forcing myself to write for at least fifteen minutes a day even though I'm dead tired at the end of the day. It's my way of kicking my own ass. I need to wake up. I need to sink back into my imagination again. It was brought to me a couple days ago that I haven't been myself for a couple of months now. My father, the sensitive man that he is, (he tries, that's what counts) sent me an article about an ultra-endurance cyclist from Slovenia. Jure, a former soldier, is the highest ranking cyclist when it comes to traveling cross-country on his bike. The man, in training alone, cycles the circumference of the planet once a year. The kicker: he loses his mind before each game. A cyclist will go through a grueling process of losing feeling in his thumbs and limbs, severe stomach cramps from the amount of calories he burns riding without eating, and mental hallucinations. Jure believes that the Taliban is on the side of the road ready to attack him or that his crew mates are sleeping with his wife. His leader of his crew doesn't try to dissuade him. He'll go along with whatever Jure is saying, and push him to continue. The cyclist will be in the midst of a deep mental breakdown, his body limp from exhaustion, and he'll push through it all to finish the race. My father, bless his soul, said that Jure reminded him of me. While I haven't been on a standard bike in quite some time, and will probably never circumnavigate the globe, I understand what my pater was saying. And it scares the crap out of me. What do you do with something like that? Yeah, I've finish something if it kills me and everyone around me. Yes, I can take on more than would be considered mentally healthy. Sure, my family and their lovely doses of drama may one day send me over the edge. But when did it get to the point of insanity is my fallback position? When did I stop bouncing back? The day I watched my friend take her last breath on this earth. I haven't been the same. I may never be the exact person I once was at the beginning of the year. But I'm trying to get back to some place of substance, a place of familiar ground. I want to be at peace. A gut feeling tells me I'll find some of it in Ireland. Yesterday I handed in my check. My spot is saved. There is no refund. I'm committed like a pig is to breakfast. (An anthropology joke I heard from my professor. What's the difference between a pig and chicken when it comes to making huevos chorizo? The chicken makes a contribution - giving a couple of her eggs . The pig makes a commitment - offering itself as the meal. Morbid but effective.) Where it goes from there is anyone's guess. So here's to me, embracing the insanity one day at a time. 85 Days until departure. |
| ((The Music)) I've mentioned this before, but I really dig The Frames. If we could claim a band for ourselves, I'd claim them. Since my trip has been planned for the summer, I checked to see if they would be playing in Ireland while I will be there. They'll be in Canada, damn it. But they're kick ass. Major kick ass, which is what I could use right now. I chose "Revelate" because it dictates my mental state since I woke up this morning. Gritty, pain-filled, angry. A deep feeling of self-disgust and a need for a moment of peace. ((The Life)) What can I say? Today was bad. The biggest thing I accomplished was taking out the trash. Big, huh? I'm totally screwed. This moment I feel like I'm in purgatory, and purgatory is a bitch. The deep put of quicksand that traps you in by the ankles and doesn't want to let go. I'm eating empanadas for dinner, contemplating what I'm going to do with what I need to do. I signed up for a class this Summer Semester. There are two more I'll be signing up for in the coming weeks, just need to gather the funds. Truly, I'm looking at the next few weeks as a form of penance for what I've done. I know, that sounds awfully Catholic of me, but since the guilt runs deep in my family. Speaking of family, I've been thinking about my grandmother lately. She was a woman with a mind that far exceeded the times. She had a genius IQ that drove her slowly insane. She researched a theory obsessively for 13 years. When I was told about it, I was nine years old. I've kept that with me for years, wondering what she found. and if her hypothesis was correct. There was something to it. I would give almost anything to find out what it was. In a way, I want to write her story. My time of turmoil leads me to want to tell the tale of what the gaps keep hidden. There is a story there. I want to make sense of it. Somehow I think I can figure out what's going on with me if I can tell her story correctly. It's crazy, but that's familial, so that's okay. Can anyone spare a revelation? My simple slant My broken chant My human fate My revelate Are you so far from me this day That you can't say my revelate My open arms My lucky charm Number eight my revelate I fucked it up I rest my case It all to grey My revelate Sometimes I need a revelation Cause sometimes it's all too hard to take Sometimes I need a revelation This time I'm making my own now Does this mean we're though Does this mean it's gone Spent a day just to ponder the words That I would write to you this day But it's too great, my revelate Sometimes I need a revelation Sometimes its all too much to take Sometimes I need a revelation This time it's up in arms This time I need you revelation Cause sometimes it's all too much to take This time I need you revelation Cause sometimes it's easy just to hate you Sometimes I need a revelation Sometimes I,sometimes I, Redeem yourself Redeem yourself Redeem yourself |
| ((The Music)) Here's another classic by Jackson Browne. I debated between "Running On Empty" and "Doctor My Eyes". The man is an asshole, but he could write a mean song. The hooks are smooth; the lyrics tell a story we could all relate to. And hell, doesn't the title say it all. ((The Life)) I am back from the wild, wild west. And I'll be heading back to the frontier in a couple of days. This was a weekend that is hard to define. I got to know my eldest step brother more as well as his fiancee and her child. Almost the entire family headed out to a weekend full of hockey. Two kids under six, a girl in her blossoming tweens, and my step-brother's growing family means for fun times and lots of sugar. At the end of each day I found myself drained beyond belief. The B-town Condors pulled off an amazing feat, coming from behind in the series to advance to the next round in the playoffs. We had some interesting moments in those three games, including some fellow Canadian fans getting their drink on and shouting the Canadian National Anthem at the top of their lungs. The Salmon Kings were good. A bit much on arrogance, but good. I was vastly impressed by the goalie Keeting, who played off all three nights and kicked ass through nights of pain. He was a classy guy, even gave my little brother his stick when he found out he was done for the season with the rest of his team. This weekend will be more of the same. I'm not sure I can keep up with all this back and forth for long, but this is something that needs to be done. This is how I keep the communication open. A small sacrifice for family. I caught two movies this weekend, a nice reprieve for the mental anguish of family troubles. We tried to skate over my grandfather's health; we mentioned, in passing, how tight the money is nowadays. I briefly touched on my classes, but didn't go into detail. I'm chicken, so sue me. We tried to keep it positive. Big smile and laughs, ignoring those small purple elephants flying in the room. Clash of the Titans wasn't half bad. Snappier dialogue and a closer representation of mythology than some of the other ones that have come out in the past few years. It even paid homage to the original movie with a peak at the owl. I also caught Alice in Wonderland. This is a Burton-touch classic. The queens stole the show. All and all, not the best films of the year, but definitely movies worth seeing on the big screen. This is the first time I pushed the limits on class time. I came on today early in the afternoon. The night before I barely caught my winks. Passed out for a couple of minutes on the ride home. With an hour to spare, I threw down my stuff in my room and decided to lay down for a few moments until I had to get up again for class. What could fifteen minutes of slumber hurt? I slept for four and a half hours. Completely missed my classes for the day. My father called me, and I didn't hear the phone ring. My mother tried to get me to wake, and there was no response. I was out to the world. And missed an entire exam. If I thought I might have a hope of passing my Mathematics class a few days ago, I completely missed the call on that. There's not way to make up for lost time. This is my worst semester in my entire educational career. I've gone down the drain. And with this falling, a deep sense of doubt lingers. I was going to apply for the Honors Program, but after this fiasco I'm not sure if I can pull it off. How do I explain this when I apply? How do I explain it to myself? I'm struggling to hang on. And there's stuff to deal with; the stuff that developed while I was away. I'm exhausted but hey, shit happens while you're awake. Gotta keep up. |
| ((The Music)) I picked a classic by Gnarls Barkely. Fits the mood, the atmosphere of the day, and it has been on the radio five times since I the beginning of the week. There's something ridiculously smart about the lyrics. Bark, raving mad. But brilliant. The back beat is catchy, too, without being annoyingly repetitive. The video is has a nice touch to it as well - Rorschach ink blots can make anyone nuts. ((The Life)) Have you ever had a sign that maybe things just weren't going your way? After a night of feeling oddly relieved and extremely guilty for dropping my Anthropology class at the last minute, I packed my things on Friday and prepared for a day on the bus heading to B-town. The entire process has become a routine now. I head up north about one or two times a month. I stay in the same hotel. I practically stay in the same damn room. I don't even think about what I need to do anymore. The first thing that went wrong was the ticket information. The power went off two hours before I had to get going, and I hadn't bought my ticket yet. I tried calling the 1-800 number for Greyhound. That phone line is like a portal to hell. By the time the power came back on, it was too late to order the ticket online. I was heading out the door not in the best of moods. A couple of unusual missed turns and leaving kind of late in the hour, I had prepared for the inevitable four-hour wait for the next bus in LA. I caught a ride with my mom to Anaheim, about 20 minutes north. The station agents know me now. I'm a regular. I was able to grab my ticket with a moment to spare, tagged my bag for under the car, and waited for my metal chariot to arrive. And waited. And waited some more. The problem came to the fact the bus was over an hour and a half late. There was a large possibility it wasn't going to show. And my mom had to catch dinner with my brother, SIL, and nice soon. I ended up heading back home after waiting in the sun for a while. Damn it all... Dinner was an odd but fun venture. My brother was in fine form. My niece, not so much. She was moody after her field that day. I walked with her to the pharmacy to get something for her head, and mentioned I knew about her lying and cheating about homework (long story that I will explain later). I made sure I wasn't angry or mean, just wanted to know why. Pointed out the logic of her ill-formed story as to why she did what she did. That went odd, and suddenly things became too much. She spent the night and stayed away from me for the most part. I expected it, so I was prepared for the cold shoulder. Soon, she and I will be having a "Come To Jesus" talk soon cause this manipulative shit has to stop. My niece, I love her to death, like she were my own, but she keeps playing with people to get what she wants. She's not even all that good at lying, but she's play out something to make it seem like she's an innocent little girl. She lies a hell of a lot. And it's only getting worse. Saturday, I caught an early bus. Four buses all day, and I arrived in B-town after the driver got lost twice, lol. I almost ended up in Tehachapi. It was a hard ride. But I'm here now, chilling in my father's office as he finishes his work for the week. I'm not sure what the weekend holds, but I have a feeling it will be interesting. Everything involves wrong turns and misdirection. |
| ((The Music)) This is a song written and performed by Colin Hay. This may sound familiar for those who were listening to music in the 1980's and a band called Men At Work. I enjoy the gritty quality of his voice. It brings out the personality of the song, and the acoustics of a simple guitar. And who isn't intrigued by the title, let alone the lyrics? Who hasn't felt that feeling at some point? It is a calling almost to that yearning inside. ((The Life)) Today didn't start out the way it should of, and now I'm fighting to catch up. But there comes a point and time when you get tired of fighting. There's so much to do. The stuff around the house, the papers and questions I need to answer on the board, the prepping for tomorrow in class, the reviews and responsibilities here. So damn much to do...there's just isn't enough time. I keep wondering if I'm doing what I should be doing. What should take priority and what shouldn't. I haven't been sleeping well, even with the Melatonin. When you have to take a fistful of your sleeping medication just to get to sleep and that only gives you enough to get a couple of winks, you've got a problem. Yet, I'm not surprised. Because of everything that's happened this semester (the irony of not having a good GPA showing while being inducted into Phi Theta Kappa doesn't allude me) I'll be taking courses the first eight weeks before I head to Ireland. The hope was to take some time off and actually enjoy a summer without work. Turns out I'm a much bigger creature of habit than I thought I was. Three courses - eight weeks. Its like combat training in the army, only academics. And it won't kill me. More and more the wish to runaway keeps popping up in my head. I mention it to my mom and she laughs, getting the emotions behind it. How many times did she feel that same thing when my brothers and I were growing up? Yet, I think I'm a little more serious about it than she was. I mention it to my guy, and he always asks if he can come along. That's our down time together, talking about where we could escape to for a while. It's almost scary how much I think we're getting more serious about actually going. March wasn't the best of month's, and I believe this is just the aftermath of that. The fatigue after a long battle. It'll get better tomorrow. Hopefully... |
| ((The Music)) No music today. Come back tomorrow, and I'll bring you something. ((The Life)) Easter has been an interesting day so far. Everything started out weird. The Munchkin and I were going to go to mass, then head over to the convent for dinner. The ladies (and F, poor guy lol) were going to have a small ceremony for Junie in her garden and plant her ashes there. It was going to be a simple affair, which was a nice idea. Except the Munchkin has a case of the stomach flu. Not to bring down the festivities we decided not to attend church or dinner as we were both afraid she might upchuck. So, I put her back to bed with some Advil and the trashcan next to her bedside, wondering what I was going to do about dinner. There was a pork shoulder in the freezer, so I plopped that on a plate to defrost, and in the midst of checking the freezer for some vegetables, an earthquake erupted. An. Earthquake. Growing up in California, you become accustomed to these things. I was more annoyed than anything else. Didn't the earth understand I was trying to make Easter dinner here out of nothing? Jeez... After forty-five seconds of shakes and rolls, I got back down to business. Except, there was nothing going with the pork. This is where I hung my head in dismay. Fortunately, there's a Target up the hill, and for some odd reason I thought they might be open. As about a dozen cars drove past me while I was walking, I wasn't the only one. Not so much. I ended up walking around for a while, going to three different stores, before finding the small mercado a couple blocks down open. They didn't have necessarily what I needed as they specialize in Mexican ingredients, but I was able to get some great avocados, the perfect ripeness. Easter dinner ended up being slow roasted pork and guacamole with chips. Popsicles for dessert. Just the way grandma use to make...It was the perfect meal to such an odd day. Can't wait to see what happens next year. |
| ((The Music)) Sevendust. Named after a pesticide - nice marketing campaign. "Unraveling" is a nice wind up and down. I've been trying to find my muse again, and Sevendust is helping me out a bit. I've really like them over the years. There are some low points, but for the most part they're a steady band. ((The Life)) I've committed a huge error. I forgot to mention that I have a Rising Star! High school students in my district have been posing protests in support of teachers being hit with large pay cuts. I feel like a blushing mother, I'm so proud. The protests, for the most part, were peaceful. What has me so happy is the fact that they're standing up for something they believe. No violence, no weirdness, just the desire to have their voices to be heard. There's a protest on my campus being planned sometime before the Veterans' Memorial will be unveiled. It was first created at the attacks on 9/11 and the start of the war. I was taking a ceramics class from the professor designing the monument. It started as something small and grew into something huge. The situation stands that the Veterans' Center at the college was created to help returning vets from all wars go back to school and get their degrees. It has been a successful program, they even planned on having a full-time counselor to deal with issues like PTSD and returning to civilian life. For a few faculty and students, the memorial has gone a little out of proportion. Especially, now that the Board of Trustees approved the final construction supplies needed and have the decided that the need for a counselor is no fiscally responsible. This is where I get angry. Its not that veterans shouldn't be honored - they definitely should - but one has to wonder where honoring the ends, and helping the living should begin. Too many of my friends have come back from the war with issues that most of us don't even understand. They need help, and have the opportunity to help them, yet we (meaning the college) have throw that away. People speak about supporting our troops. Let's support them. Let's give them what they need to get back to some semblance of being whole. A full-time counselor with experience of their own on a battlefield will help them talk about the horrors they've faced to protect their country. I'm going to go to the protest. A couple of organizations from Los Angeles are coming out, including the Iraq Veterans Against The War (http://ivaw.org). This is a huge need right now. Even if it is a matter of one extra person, I want to do what I can to help. The Board needs to listen, and as the students proved earlier, sometimes that's what's needed for people to listen. |
| ((The Music)) Performed by The Heavy, I picked this song because secretly I wish to be a sock monkey... But seriously, I chose this song because the sentiment is about being ballsy, something that I have no real idea how to do. With a catchy tune and head-bopping beat, you can jam with the best of them. ((The Life)) The world has lost its mind. Or maybe, its just this little patch of land I like to America. Everyone had freakin' lost there mind to the politics of the time. Here are a few cases and points to what will one day surely drive me up the wall. There is an epidemic of socialism, and it going to kill us in our sleep. (Really? I didn't get that memo.) Liberals are ruining our way of life. (When did we become herds of sheep?) I'm surrounded by politics and sycophants and crazy people who are pissed off about non-existent issues so they can feel righteous. The more that's being spouted out, the more I want to scream, because really, what the hell are people thinking? Let's just ignore facts - arguments work better that way. People in Texas want to rewrite history: http://news.yahoo.com/s/mcclatchy/3466905 Read the article and see why I've lost my mind. Supposedly, Jamestown nearly failed because it was a "socialist" venture...shoot me please. They almost died out because they weren't used to the harsh winters and lacked food. And, if we're going to poking fun at history, Jamestown in a "capitalist" venture. I'm moving to a small island. This is getting insane. |
| ((The Music)) I first this song after I saw Repo Men this past weekend. I freakin' brilliant movie with a killer soundtrack. This song is playing through one of the weirdest, yet artfully shot scene that will leave you baffled and awed. I will never look at grocery scanners the same again. This was a masterfully produced song done by a group called Moloko based out of Britain. Definitely worth checking into if you like house music or down tempo. Also, check out Repo Men if you have two hours to stretch your mind. The movie is being panned because it asks you to think. Think, in book reference, Philip K. Dick type of trippiness of the Science Fiction genre. Just forgive the ending. ((The Life)) I finally figured out what is going wrong with me - what is driving me slowly insane. I'm burning out like a supernova. It's alright. I actually feel better now knowing what the hell this deep-pit of a feeling is. That means I can head it off at the pass, so to speak. I can take steps to back off and relax for a while before I go into a full-fledged meltdown. The thing is I've been going full tilt boogey for over a decade. Through bedridden sickness, through surgery, through half a dozen moves and a handful of schools. Through family conflict and insane roommates and all the crises with my father. I've barreled on through. I've kept going full-speed ahead. I just don't think I can do that anymore. I know what it looks like to ignore the signs. My mom did that, and I thank her for all she sacrificed to raise me and my brothers. However, her system fried itself. She's paying for decades of light speed work ethic. I know others who have done this too. You don't go through that type of full speed unscathed. And I've witnessed first hand what happens when you succumb to the pressure. My eldest cousin became three times the addict dealing with the mounting pressure of my father's family. After three years of intense rehab, he's finally heading back to Brown. It took hitting the absolute bottom before he bounced back. Unfortunately, my older brother C hasn't been that successful with his pain. So, this is me on the hairy edge, watching how far I will push myself before I fall down into the wrong direction. I don't want go too far out there. I don't want to fell into a path I can't fight my way back from. This is just me burning out. Bring the s'mores!  |
| ((The Music)) This Celtic Friday brings a band from Dublin - The Frames. You might know them from a little indie film called "Once". A song of theirs won Best Song at the Oscars a couple of years. Yep, band's get free advertising here in my blog. I dig this song because it speaks to the heart. Illusion and metaphor mixed in with a gathering of melody and acoustic loveliness, a touch of the Irish on the back beat. Who doesn't like that? I recommend listening to this off their live album, but any version you can find is great. Makes me think of someone special.  ((The Life)) I'm am here in B-Town, on my own for most of the day. I'll been venturing forth to the masses in a few minutes here to get some things I forgot at home. Leaving things at home, and conversely, leaving them where ever you were staying, is like giving homage to the Travel Gods. A little token for safe travels. Undoubtedly, I always leave something behind, so I like to think that there's a good reason for a guffaw. Reviewed quite a bit today, and I have a feeling that there will be more to come. For some odd reason it doesn't feel like a chore at the moment. I've come across some interesting reads during my time this morning. People are a lot more creative then I give them credit for, making me realize I should do this more often. I might do some writing too, if time permits. There's a hockey game later on this evening so that's a toss up. The entire fam it going sans my step-mother. This should be quite an interesting ride. I have step siblings coming out of the woodwork. We are all very different people. Family trips like these are odd, yet have a large potential for fun with allow ourselves to get over the weirdness. Last night while visiting the family's hallway (the allergies won't let me get much further) I made friends with a black cat named Moonlight. She was friendly, and seemed to like me as she sat on my feet. Sans the allergies, I think I would have animals. Probably, I would die a spinster with a couple of cats and a wondering dog in a house on a hill. The sad part about that is, that doesn't sound too bad. I think I need a vacation... |
| ((The Music)) Flogging Molly - an awesome jig, especially after staring at the bottom of a glass. Makes you want to shake and move and scream and shout at the top of your lungs with no ability of pitch whatsoever. At some point you're mumbling insanity, and it still sounds okay because everyone else is doing the same damn thing. Everyone is Irish and green on St. Patty's Day. Rock on, me leprechauns!  ((The Life)) Life is life. I'm trying to be philosophical about this for reasons passing understanding. Currently, I'm sitting here wondering if I have all I need to get what I need. And does what I need also what I want? What if what I want flies in the face of what I need? What needs to be sacrificed? Am I really an objective person about this? More and more I've been contemplating life over dinner. There is something cathartic about making something with your hands for sustenance for the family. One thing I learned is that I could never be an executive chef in a restaurant. The speed would kill me. I enjoy taking my time with it, and making sure everything does what it's suppose to. The colors, the smells, the tastes. Feel the yum. Tomorrow I'll be headed on the bus once more. I'm also becoming philosophical about this. There's something about being on the road that fits who I am. I crave a real home, a steady base. I'm also a creature of the road. I've moved almost every three years of my life. Sometimes I feel like I've been made to do that. Hypocrisy will kill me. The crap that has happened in the name of politics and power will make me lose my mind. The damn ads on television make me realize why I stopped watching tv for years. Current topics include immigration, same-sex marriage and taxes here in lovely California. The state has gone down the drain. The heads of politicians are shoved so far up their asses, they don't see that everyone is suffering. Stop the bickering and DO SOMETHING. Things overseas are even worse. The situation in Haiti is downright terrifying. I read an article yesterday speaking about how rape amongst women and young children have skyrocketed. Girls get attacked for going to bathroom. People fear what happens when the sun goes down as there are no lights for the camps. And yet, it takes over three weeks for patrols to arrive, and they aren't doing much to protect the people who have gone through the ringer for the couple of months, many losing their entire families. What the fuck is wrong with people? So, I'm being philosophical. Philosopher, my name is Samantha. |
| ((The Music)) A week of Irish music! Starting off a week of Celtic music is a traditional Irish folk song about...seaweed! Yes, seaweed. What is St. Patty's day without seaweed. "Dulaman" is actually about a mother and daughter preparing the younger woman for her suitors. Seaweed is thrown in there because it's important to make something from the best of Ireland. The seaweed ends up stealing the girl if I translated that correctly. Rock on! ((The Life)) Dig this - I was asked to join Phi Theta Kappa, the Honor Society! After my less impressive start this semester, this was a great show that I'm not as big of a slacker as I thought. After opening the letter late last night I did a little Snoopy dance, then called my guy to tell him. He worried about this being a sorority thing. I snorted. After reassuring him that I wouldn't have to go through any initiation process of chugging beer or kissing some random guys on campus, he gave me the big thumbs. I was slightly giddy. Still am. Ha! I was so excited that I started a new contest. Thrilled I am about how it turned out. While it's been less than twenty-four hours since I opened it, I've gotten over thirty lookie-loos. Hopefully, I'll get a few people to write and enjoy the contest. If you want to check it out:
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| ((The Music)) Today was one of those days where I couldn't decide if I wanted to listen to the original or the cover. Usually I side with the original as covers have a tendency to blow major cheese by people who do not have a clue how to write a song or sing one for that matter. For example, I can no longer listen to "I Love Rock N' Roll" by Joan Jett because a singer who will never be named in my blog decided to pollute it with her dirty, psycho fingers. I cringe now. "Orion" is one of the rare exceptions. First cover as an instrumental by the "kick-assedness" of Metallica, it was later redone on the Rodrigo y Gabriela's first album. As they first started out as a hard rock band out of Mexico City before finding their niche on the streets of Dublin doing flamenco music, I think they understood the essence of the song. You can shred, then soothe. I suggest listening and comparing. Which one do you like better? ((The Life)) Today was a prep for St. Patty's Day. I bought some corned beef, cabbage, and potatoes at the grocery store this afternoon. The Munchkin (my mom) wants to get boozy with Bailey's and whiskey. She wants me to get my system ready for Ireland in a few months. Not too sure about that as I have to take a bus the nest day. It'll be fun watching her get tipsy though, lol. She rarely drinks, and can hold her own against most grown men when she does. But I have a feeling that she's looking to get good and truly sloshed. We've lost many a good people lately. It's a delayed wake if you will. I don't drink. Not that I can't, I'm just not a huge fan of the alcohol. I'll have a glass every once in a while of weak wine with my mom, or maybe a half glass of beer with my friends. My favorite, an aged glass of scotch or whiskey happens in a blue moon. I'm a drag that way. Sue me. The grocery shopping also proved a good trip as I'm still playing cook for the convent before I head up north. The house feels weird without Junie. Still, people need to eat and I love to cook for them. Everything works in the wash that way. Sunday was a good day of rest for the most part. A nice reprieve after Saturday. Enjoy your week, everyone. |
| ((The Music)) Today I've chosen a song that fits a certain sense of understanding - I think I've lost my mind. Having lost my mind, it seems that all that's left is to stop and stare. Hence the song. It's catchy; slightly plucky. OneRepublic is a new band with good potential. I could probably pontificate more, but that will only prove to harsh the point. Stop And Stare. I think I'm moving, but I go Nowhere... ((The Life)) I've been feeling very blah of late. A persisting state that has stretched the very limits of my being. My writing has gone down the drain, both academically and creatively. My mental health has been less than stellar. I look like a rotten potato. There's more, but it makes me sound like a whiny mongoose. The goal for the next coming week or so it to cut the feelings off at the curb. I'm not exactly sure how I'm going to do that, but it is one of my main goals. This is ludicrous. I can't stand it. I can't stand bring myself most of the time now, and the only one who can change that is me. So I've decided to keep moving forward. Being on campus has made things interesting for me, especially when I have a couple of hours to kill between classes. Last Thursday in my Tai Chi class we learned practical applications to the different movements. Pairing up with other students we practiced different blocking techniques, and my partner and I got along well. As different instructors came along we learned one valuable lessons - we're fighters when it comes to "fight or flight" responses. Instead of backing away from strikes, we lean towards them. Blocking in Tai Chi is all about kinetic efficiency. You let the attacker have what they want, and force them off their game. She and I had to fight instinct, though we were rare exceptions, to learn to move with the hits. It was one hell of a class. During that exercise it also brought to mind how much I don't like being touched by people I don't know. My partner was fine, but the help from the instructors was difficult. This problem has been a problem for me for years. I know why...I just wish I knew how to handle it better. I flinch, then fight back. Always. I have to hold myself stiff if I get hugs from random people. I telegraph my feelings in my face, too. There's no transparency. I feel like a lunatic sometimes. After that class I sat with my sandwich at a table that faces the northern parking lot, three levels up. I stared out into the sunset and thought about why I do what I do, and why I feel what I feel. This gave birth to a scene and a girl who's name I have yet to learn. She wants her story told. I want her story told. For both our sakes. It still surprises me the amount of subconscious it takes to fuel my imagination. There are times I feel like I've been brained by a never-ending book that contains thousand of stories. Where does it go? Where does it end? How much of me is me, and them is them? At the end of the day I'm left with more questions, but at least I keep asking. I'm blah but I keep asking. I might even get an actual answer one day. |
| ((The Music)) Here's a random song that brings an odd sense of empowerment. The gritty, all-girl band The Runaways brought us such classics as "Queens of Noise", "Born To Be Bad", and the infamous "Cherry Bomb". This is one of those tunes where you want to tell young girls to put down Guitar Hero and become their own. Hopefully, sans drugs, but you get me. ((The Life)) Happy International Women's Day I received this morning a lovely note from a member wishing me a good day, as a woman and a writer. It was very nice, and slightly caught me off guard, yet put everything into perspective as my guy had sent me eCard with some of the same sentiments. There is a day just for women. Makes me think about when is there a day for men. Is that fair to have one without the other? ...but I digress. I've been contemplating most of the day the strength and resilience of women, and how that has changed over the last hundred years. Around the world, women are the backbone of industry, yet are regulated by outdated social dogma and power schemes. How often times they have gone without thanks for their roles, and yet they still continue the same jobs without gratitude. In many ways, women in terms of rights and social standing, have a long way to go. Over the course of my college semesters, I've written a few term papers on women from different parts of the world. A staggering statistic that still has the ability to shock me is that one of three women will be sexually assaulted in their lifetime. In places such as Native American reservations, inner cities and war-torn places such as Rwanda in Africa or Haiti have an even higher stat of one in two. I look at my nieces and sisters and friends, and something inside me breaks. No matter how much we all try, it still happens; and they are the victims who pay. No person should have to live with that grim possibility. Sharing a cup of coffee this morning with my mother made me realize just how lucky I am. Many of the girls my age with children do not have a handle on their lives as my mom had on hers at that age. When she was my age, she already had two kids, an absent husband, and three jobs to make ends meet. I can't even imagine having that much to handle right now. My mom did it with courage and grace. Don't get me wrong, I think there are many women my age that have their lives together. They do what they can for their kids and for their families. However, there are also some who don't handle themselves, and a lot of that I feel has to do with their level of commitment level and age. That level of dedication is not the same as it once was. In the end it's the children that suffer for it. With all of that said and done, women has accomplished many things. They are strong, and wise, and proud. I am happy to be a woman, and am thankful to all of those that came before me.  |
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