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|RagDoll (profile) wrote, |
on 1-1-2003 at 9:31am
[ mood | ditzy ]
[ music | As much as my Ipod can handle ]
All right. I'm exhausted, I'm bit cranky, and more than a little hopped up on caffiene.
Work ended at 7:45 this morning, with a meeting at 8am.
8:20 began the meeting, and I got out at 9.
Essentially, I still don't know what my holiday schedule is.
Doesn't matter. Went to bed at nearly 11, and just recently got up.
Waiting for me was...
Read or Die DVD
I feel better. Still dizzy, but better.
On another note. I finished reading Sarban's 'The Doll Maker'. It's an out of print british horror story from the 50s. Reading it, I swear I'm a reincarnation of the author. Loneliness, Isolation, Control in both the loving and dangerous aspects, ownership of the heart, acceptance of change...It's all there. *shudder* A brilliant read.
Shoppings all done. Time to really sleep.
mood | thankful ]
[ music | (All Neon Like: Bjork)through(No Time for Revolution:Falco) ]
It's 2:30 or so in the morning. I had to cut my thanksgiving holiday short so that I could get sufficient sleep to work 9pm-6am at an underpaying job I hate. Because students are the useless result of sweaty unfulfilling sex by their upper-middle class parents, none of them have enough belief in job integrity to come to work. For fuck's sake, it's Thanksgiving, right?
Because of this, my unpaid superiors engaged in ritual backbiting, trying to convince me that each is better than the other. I was -offered- their job. And if they're no better than I am, neither of them is worth the tryptophan laced feces they'll disgorge in another few hours. Also, at 2 in the morning, my real boss who was forced to use his sick time to attend a funeral had to leave the suburbs and play security guard in one of the buildings. And don't think he won't take it out on everyone.
This Saturday, I will leave work somewhere between six and eight, and go to my first seminar for college, although I've already taken two classes. This is to teach me how to use the program. I learned it from S in about a half hour. This seminar will go from 9-4. From there, I will go home, try to get some sleep so I can repeat this whole process.
So what am I thankful for?
Watch and learn.
I am thankful that the only one who has perfected human cloning is fate. For some reason, when man clones a beast, the result withers and gets smelly. When fate clones, it's almost spot-on.
No one's cloned me yet, thank god. But I have been cloned. My clone lives out in the rural midwest. He's timid, bent, and would rather cuddle up next to a volume of DESTROY ALL MONSTERS than speak to you.
He is also one of the most caring, giving people I know. He wouldn't give you the shirt off his back. That wouldn't complete the wardrobe. Instead he'd bleach his name off his shorts unless you somehow shared the same name.
Thanks for the loan of the shorts, btw.
He's creative as snot, accepting of all things that bring light and joy into the world, and has a way of finding just the right .jpg to keep you locked in warped fantasy for days. He's prozac and a slap in the face at the same time. I couldn't ask for a better friend.
I'm thankful that when -I- thought about slitting my wrists this year, I met someone who shared the same hobby. While dancing around pop culure and cheap language banter, we worked diligently to save each other's lives. It's no fun to commit suicide if everyone's joining in on all the fun, right?
She's neurotic with a past that combines the best elements of 'Flowers in the Attic', 'Mommy Dearest', and 'Deliverance'. Probing her walls requires rubber souls in case of electrocution. She's affected and fronting, and RELISHES it. She loves playing the game, and is glad you're in on it too. And fuck, my cats still talk about her with awe.
She is the other half of my Adam Sandler.
I am thankful that a traumatic past, painful illness, and LOTS of medication somehow expose the best elements in a person. I met this one by accident while trying to figure out what the fun in fur was. 2 hours later, I was outed and had a committed doll fetishist on my hands.
She's been many things, from a military re-enactor to a bounty hunter. From a slave to a boy. Twitchy doesn't describe her. Squaresoft has a running ban on her ever owning Final Fantasy VII. Not so much because it would affect her emotionally, but she knows how to use a shotgun.
If you're her friend, she's like an electromagnet. You won't get rid of her. Some of the smart ones never do. If you're her enemy, be warned. She'll try and be your friend again. She's been whipped more times than a bare-assed teenager at the Marquis De Sade Memorial Barbecue (The secret's in the sauce). It won't matter. With her past, only death can keep her from loving you.
I don't give her enough credit. No matter how bad things get, I always know I'll have her love and support. That is important to me.
I am thankful for S. The reasons have been witheld at the request of the thanked.
I am thankful for JF. His twitchy wife makes great thanksgiving for a vegetarian, and mercifully allowed him to cook a turkey.
I am thankful for Christian furs. I will never be at a loss for laughs.
I am thankful for anime. From Miyazaki to Watasae, you're all playing my song.
I am thankful for Roscoe and Halstead. I can't be gray with so much color.
I am thankful for Roa and Miya. Now I don't have to beat myself up.
I am thankful for key and tama. They show me who my true friends are by sitting on their lap.
I am thankful for D and his lass SS, and their angsty, love-friend-sufferer third L. It's like drama club.
I am thankful for Kigs, ALGs, Robots, Drag Queens, and anyone else with the courage to be themselves by being something entirely different.
I am thankful for Thomas Edison, Leon Theremin, Alan Turing, and Philo T. Farnsworth for inventing the bases for the entertainment I so crave.
I am thanful for Ted Turner. Laugh if you like, but late-night Cowboy Bebop and Mobile Suit Gundam are -his- gifts to -you-.
I am thankful for the BBC. The rest of the world should be too.
I am thankful for E and L. Their pain made me neurotic, their fear made me spastic, and their love kept me alive.
I am thankful for P and N. It used to be fun to have brothers to beat up. It's more fun to have brothers to laugh with.
I am thankful for M. You don't know M? Fools. She will own you.
I am thankful to Godiva and Cadbury. They prove that you can be a fat slob with class.
I am thankful to Yoko Kanno, VNV Nation, Peter Gabriel, and Kate Bush. Without them there would be no stories.
I am thankful to G. In one hand I bear her crystal. In another, I bear her rosary. Somewhere, I hold a piece of her heart.
I am thankful for the law in mexico that says sodas have to be made with real sugar. Jarritos, anyone?
I am thankful for Brian Michael Bendis, Terry Moore, K2R, CLAMP, Alan Moore, and god help me, Phil Folgio. I love their dreams.
I am thankful Japan, France, and Great Britian.
I am thankful for Fred Ghallager, Gloria Higgenbottam, Jennifer Diane Reitz, Greg Dean, Pete Abrams, Bill Holbrook, Poe, Ian McConville, purrsia.com, Emi-chan, Scott Kurtz, Tycho, Dragonfly, Erin Lindsey, Davey Foxfire, Jade Daze, Ian J, Kittyhawk, The Gneech, Eric Schwartz,and David Willis.
I am thankful for cosplay. Mmmmmm....Cosplay.
I am thankful for Ellen Kushner and the fact that she was nice to me.
I am thankful for the myth of Judith Antill, and accept the reality.
I am thankful for Renfaire, and its current leaders.
I am thankful to squaresoft. Who isn't.
I am thankful to God for all of the above, and for never giving up on me.
And now, at 3:30, I'm able to look at this dismal job and smile. Maybe it's the joy of counting my blessings. Maybe it's simply the fantasy of leaving my employers dead in a room coated in blood, come and feces.
You be the judge.
mood | groggy ]
[ music | Sky Blue; Peter Gabriel ]
So I'm on hotel broadband, on S's new Dell with Windows XP. It's nice.
The flight was fine. It was the blasted drive to the hotel that killed me.
I hate driving. I am afraid of driving, especially when I have passengers. S worked to calm me, but was nervous too. We got lost, got found, had parking problems, everything. By the time we got into the hotel room, we were stone dead.
I've only had phone contact with the family, which is nice. Today will be the start of family interaction. But tomorrow, even that will be finished up. Then it's back to work, and all the weirdness there.
I'm reading 'Shot in the heart' by Mikal Gilmore, the brother of Gary Gilmore of 'Executioner's song' fame. In this, I am reading some dark interpretations of mormonism. It's left me with a window into the eyes of Rhaul.
There's a concept in mormonism that I shall research further called 'Blood Atonement'. There are some crimes unpardonable by god. Atonement comes from spilling your blood on the earth. It seems to be part of a savage, survival oriented faith. Something that would be part and parcel of being one of the Wolves.
What if the excuse for the destruction of Rhaul's family line is the practice of a cultic blood-faith? It also would add power to the oath that Rhaul would give in tracking down Sen Kitsu. When Rhaul takes a bride, it comes as a shock to her that he continues to practice this faith, bleeding his children the stain of original sin, and his almost ritual abuse of the disobedient Cyran.
Perhaps Maris' first sign of strength is to leave Rhaul. What could she have on him, aside from the practice of the faith, though, that would prevent Rhaul from killing her outright when she pushed it? Or is it a loophole in the faith that protects the mother?
Regardless. I'm seeing a new depth to Rhaul, and to the damage he caused to Cyran and Barnard.