todjav

It is coming to a year... a full year of not having her here. months that slipped away in a fog of uncertain grief. My loss, their loss, our loss, a collaborative loss, a familial loss. Death was sudden and yet we knew inside that it was only a matter of time before she would leave us. Leave us to remember, to try to forget, to forget what we wished to remember...
Grieving, how i hid from that word and all the ones that reminded me I had not been ready to let her go. Yes there was a place that knew deep inside that it was a possibility. Yet she was a woman who lived wanted to lived, lived to live. then in a blink of certainty when we were all just going about our days she passed. Flitted between the veil of here and there, found her way to the unknown.
We are what is left. We hold her stories we share her with others so that we will not forget her in hopes that she has not forgotten us.

I have spent more time bottled up and lost. Awash in uncertainty. I don't know what to do some days. Other days I cry for no reason. I stare out at the vastness of the sky, the ocean and I feel my grief tug at me and I know it, know the depths with which it plunges into my soul. There are days i long to lie down to pass into the darkness and feel relief.

I compacted my losses last year. I fell a part and knew not which way to turn. I hurt too deeply to think straight. I made impulsive decisions I lost more than my Grandmother I lost all that I knew as comfort. All the things that I relied on to anchor me to the world snapped beneath the pressure. My heart collapsed melted reformed, failed, broke into a hundred pieces...

These days I spend my time running from and turning into my grief. I read about grief I wallow in grief I learn from my grief. I'll break apart and reform every few days then every few months... then every few years. Until it becomes a comfortable part of myself.?

The days they have flown by in my confusion. I've hidden my pain inside, longed to toss it outside myself feared to lose more and sucked it straight back in. I feel human most days. Other days I feel like I just need someone to see it. To see the pain and the loss and to reach inside and pull it forward and place it in my hand. Someone who will just listen to all the crap, the pain, the fear, the uncertainty. So much weighs upon me.
It isn't as fresh and yet it holds me down. Makes it hard to move forward. I am different although I am so very tired. I just want to sleep for a few days. I want to sleep through the night.

What happened : a summary

June 27th 2008
My grandmother passed away. She was doing poorly, but was on the mend and in good spirits. She went to make a sandwich, and never made it. She had some sort of stroke and slipped away.It was sudden even though I knew she was not doing well. I believe the world is a little darker with out her light in it.

July 3 2008
I being in a state of grief, confusion, and serious pain broke up with my fiance for some legitimate reasons, but I should have been a bit more rational about it. I hurt a wonderful man and lost his friendship. I can only hope that one day he no longer hates me for what I did. I don't know that we would have made it. I wasn't a whole person and he deserved better from a future wife.
By doing this I gave up security, friendship, a home, a set life.

October 3 2008
There are little details amongst the big that have also affected my sense of loss.
The day we scatter my grandmas ashes. My father began to have chest pains and went into the hospital. The following day he had open heart surgery.

This was a lot for me. a lot at once. This is me doing my best to deal with it. I don't feel as crazy as I did in the beginning. I couldn't keep my head straight I didn't know which way to go. Everyone kept telling me what to do. All I wanted was to have time to curl up and not feel while feeling everything. I couldn't mourn I was supposed to stop crying and work, be an adult, be in the perfect life. Be happy happy happy. For fuck sake let a grieving person have a few days, weeks, or months this shit does not go away in a week or after a few fun inspired days!!! It just goes inside and eats at you until you want to SCREAM AND SCREAM AND SCREAM!!! then cry and cry and cry and fucking cry some more. To just feel OK about being sad for more than a day, a week,or a month a year. Mostly I just feel worn out.

Here I type it. Just to type it. I don't want condolences, or sorry that it happened. I filled my bag full of those. I appreciate them. I can't digest any more of them. Keep them and share them with someone else I give my thanks.

P.S
Beautiful, good and wonderful things occurred as well, but this entry is not for them, They will be talked of and have their special place as well.

My little red car is no longer with me. Kinda sad to part with a car that I spent 5 1/2 Years driving. I didn't realize how much it had grown on me until it was gone. While the new ride has A/C, it doesn't have as much get up and go, as my Nissan did. Mostly because the Nissan was a stick shift and the Honda is an automatic.
I believe that stick shifts are better than automatics. When you drive a stick shift you are a part of the car. It needs you. You are responsible for keeping the engine in the correct gear. You are in a position of control.. In an automatic, you become disconnected from the car, almost lazy, observation and alertness levels decline. You begin to believe the car will drive itself.
It is still odd after years of driving a stick shift to suddenly be set into an automatic. it feels both a luxury and almost a sin. I often come to a stop and try to shift to slow myself down and realize all I have is the break. I feel that I have shamed the manual drivers of the world by driving an automatic after years of loyal service from my previous Stick shift...
The car I have is a good car. Honda, 1987 owned by an elderly woman who liked fluffy things- seat and steering wheel covers, very fluffy. Nice, feels like I am petting a large black cat while I am driving. Even a friend couldn't help but pet the seat cover as we drove around town.

Though I was sad to see my little red Nissan go, it was time. I hope the next owner reaps as many benefits as I have from the little car. The Best engine and transmission I have ever had the privilege of owning.

Went for a drive today. Put a few more pictures in the scrapbook. They are a bit blurry. I wrote a couple of paragraphs about my mini Road Trip, but they were lost. Bah! Oh well... I traveled around Antelope today. Weaved in and out of main roads and lesser used roads. Drove a long long ways down Elverta and turned around at Power Line although Elverta continues for a distance.

well there is more to explore and I will try and take more pictures. I am hoping to check out Davis, Ca tomorrow. Then I might try to find every back road from Antelope to Auburn just to see if I can avoid the Freeway. From there I don't know. I am heading for AAA to get some maps. Maps are fun!

Below is a picture from Elverta Rd and a picture from Power Line Rd. Thus named for the power lines it follows? That and it follows along the Airport.

Another night is fading into day as she waits for the sun to rise on a new day, a new lease on life. Cigarette in hand she delicately bends her elbow pulling it closer to her mouth followed by the quick exhale, flinging her arm away as if to banish the truth. She is alone again. Anger and ashes rise up around her. There is more to this there is more. "I am sleeping through life, no longer awake. Maybe I have never been awake." If she is not awake, how long has she been asleep? How many days have passed without her knowing their fullness? Considering that all humans believe their reality is true, crisp, clear, real.When did she forget to open her eyes and see? See what?

Is this real? Real? How can any of it be real? or not real? She shoves her cigarette butt violently into the ashtray, "Fuck" "Is there a way out of this spiral?" Her shaking fingers type angrily on the keyboard. Long stabbing taps release the fury within her, if only temporary relief. "The world is crazy. Full of gurus for some and windowless skin covered cells for others." She pulls out a new cigarette from her diminishing pack and fiddles with the lighter. "I find the first strike of the zippo to be the most compelling. I feel that the world begins with a flash of sparks, with a hope that it will shed light and spark some sort of thought. Although I am often disappointed."
The mirrors in her Apartment have all been covered. No need to expose herself to images of truth. "Why watch yourself turning and changing if you have yet to grasp the reason for those changes? Best to be surprised by an accidental meeting in a shop window during a run to the mini mart."

I came across this word when I was looking into information about the book "The Professor and the Madman" by Simon Winchester. Dr. W.C. minor listed below was an important asset in the building of the Oxford-English Dictionary, and interesting to note is that he performed a penectomy on himself. I remember reading and learning about female genital mutilation, but never considered that there was such thing as male genital mutilation. Below are several cases collected from Wikipedia. Also here is the link if anyone is so inclined or curious about knowing more.
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http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Penis_removal


Documented cases


The following are documented cases of men having their penises severed due to accident, spousal jealousy or self infliction (intentional or not):

* The penis of Napoleon was reportedly severed at his autopsy, and purloined: it was some years later sold to a urologist for $40,000.

* Dr. W.C. Minor, a contributor to the Oxford English Dictionary who suffered from schizophrenia, performed an autopenectomy in 1902 to pay for imaginary sins.

* Grigori Rasputin's penis was severed in the assassination that ended his life on December 16, 1916 (O.S.): it was reported rescued, kept in a wooden box and much cherished by his daughter, Maria. It has reportedly been on display in various locations.

* The first documented case of a completely successful penis replantation, restoring full function, was performed at Massachusetts General Hospital by a team led by Dr. Hugh H. Young II, with fellow urologist Dr. John F.S. Daly and plastic surgeons Dr. Benjamin E. Cohen and Dr. James W. May. The case is documented in the February 1977 issue of the American Society of Plastic Surgeons journal, Plastic and Reconstructive Surgery.

* In 1966, six-month old David Reimer's penis was destroyed during a botched circumcision using an electrocautery device. He was re-assigned as a girl with tragic consequences. As a teenager, he underwent genital reconstructive surgery to restore his male organ. Years later, David committed suicide.[5]

* In 1993, Lorena Bobbitt cut off the penis of her husband, John Wayne Bobbitt with a kitchen knife. It was surgically re-attached, and he subsequently became a porn star. She was found not liable and was sentenced to 45 days hospitalization.

* In March 1996, Ms. Tran Nhu Tran, a Vietnamese immigrant in Australia attempted to sever her husband's penis with a pair of scissors. She was charged with malicious wounding, but the charges were dropped based on reconciliation with her husband.

* On July 1, 1997, Ms. Kim Phuong Tran (Kim Tran #1), a Vietnamese immigrant in British Columbia, severed her husband's penis after he had told her he was in love with another woman. He hadn't been discreet about his mistress. Kim Phoung Tran kept telling her husband not to have the mistress, and to please not leave her. He told Kim Phoung Tran that he needed to be left alone so he could think. He then went to sleep. While he was asleep she cut off his penis, and immediately flushed it down the toilet. His penis could not be recovered, and could not be reattached. Ms. Tran was sentenced to a two-year conditional stay-at-home sentence with community service. Many men's rights groups in Canada were outraged at her light sentence.

* On December 11, 1997, a California resident Alan Hall was admitted to NorthBay Medical Center after having his penis severed. Hall claimed his penis was severed by an attacker named 'Brenda,' in a revenge attack because Mr. Hall had killed Denise Denofrio in July 1983. Later, Hall admitted he had removed his own penis while intoxicated, expecting that it would easily be reattached by surgeons.

* In March 2001, in the town of Rotenburg, central Germany, cannibal Armin Meiwes, cut off and flambéed a man's penis, with his consent, and the two men ate it together. The other man, Bernd Jürgen Brandes was then killed by Meiwes, also with his consent. The song "Mein Teil" by Rammstein was inspired by the case[6].

* In January 2002, In Russia, Pavel Morozov, a player of Spartak football for disabled people, was brutally murdered by his friend's girlfriend because he didn't want to have sex with her. The friend invited Pavel over to his house to drink vodka with him and his girlfriend. The girlfriend became interested in Pavel the more drunk she got. She made advances towards Pavel but as he didn't reciprocate them she became upset and started hitting him and screaming. Pavels friend came over to see what was going on. He might have started hitting Pavel as well. Pavel ended up unconscious on the floor. The girlfriend then unzipped Pavel's pants and cut off his penis. She then stabbed him in the chest. Pavels body was then thrown out in the street. The other two continued drinking. They were arrested the next morning[7].

* In 2003, Alfonse Mumbo, 38, a Kenyan villager, cut off his penis and testicles in order to punish his wife for adultery.

* In 2003, a German student known just as "Andreas W", from Halle cut off his own penis and tongue with a pair of garden shears while under the influence of the deleriant drug datura. Neither organ was re-attached successfully.

* In 2004, in Kassel, Germany, a 50 year old woman severed the penis of her Ghanaian ex-husband but died as a result of wounds inflicted by the same knife. The man's organ was later retrieved from the same room in which she died, though it is unknown as to whether it was re-attached or not[8]. Fortean Times later reported that the court was told that the man had severed his own penis before attacking his ex-wife.

* In October 2004, Dr. Naum Ciomu chopped patient Nelu Radonescu's penis into small pieces in a fit of anger during routine surgery for a testicular malformation.[9] He was ultimately found guilty of grievous bodily harm, fined and received a 1 year suspended jail sentence for the attack. [10] The victim ultimately had reconstructive surgery using tissue from his arm.

* In February 2005, Ms. Kim Tran (Kim Tran #2), a Vietnamese immigrant in Alaska, severed her boyfriend's penis with a kitchen knife, after tying him to the windowsill. The severed organ was flushed down the toilet but retrieved and successfully reattached. Ms. Tran was convicted on charges of serious assault with a weapon, but charges of tampering with evidence and sexual assault were dropped.

* In February 2005, Spanish surgeons reconstructed the penises of two Kenyan boys whose organs were cut off by witch doctors making a potion supposed to cure HIV/AIDS.

* On July 23, 2005, Delmy Ruiz, 49, was found guilty of aggravated assault after she had severed Rene Aramando Nuñez' penis with a knife. Ruiz said he had abused her earlier, but it was believed that she was really just jealous (which allegedly happens in over 75% of penis amputation cases), because he was seeing someone else. She lured him over to the house to talk about documents concerning the house that they owned together. He fell asleep while at the house. That is when she cut off his penis. The jury had been shown graphic photos of Nuñez' wounded crotch where more than 80% of his penis was completely removed save for a small stump. The penis was never recovered as it had been removed from the scene by her dog. Ruiz was sentenced to eight years in prison and fined $10,000[11].

* On 20 September 2005, the first successful penis transplant was begun in a military hospital in Guangzhou, China. A man at 44 sustained an injury that severed his penis at an accident. Despite atrophy of blood vessels and nerves after a protracted period of time had elapsed (exact length not given), the arteries, veins, nerves and the corpora spongiosa were successfully matched. After seven hours' surgery, the penis regained its function and even managed to attain erection. The extent to which the penis' function was restored and occurrence of rejection or infection remain to be seen[12].

* On March 15, 2006, Polish-American immigrant Jakub Fik, distraught over problems with a girlfriend, went on a vandalism spree; when confronted by Chicago police, he severed his own penis and threw it at the officers. He was taken into custody and sent into surgery.

* In Bahrain, an Indian housemaid attacked her husband and severed his penis because of his alleged infidelity. She then threw the penis out their apartment window and into the street.

* In the 1990's a man featured on the Jerry Springer talk-show had desired to become a woman and so severed his own penis and hid it from his wife.

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While this is strangely fascinating there is also this:
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Anti-rape female condom
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
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The anti-rape female condom (aka anti-rape condom, intended brand name Rapex) was invented by Sonette Ehlers, a South African woman. It is intended to prevent rape by hooking onto an attacker's penis, hurting and disabling him.

The device is a latex sheath held firm by shafts of sharp, inward-facing microscopic barbs that would be worn by a woman in her vagina like a tampon. Should an attacker attempt vaginal rape, the penis would penetrate the latex and be hooked by the barbs, causing the attacker pain and (ideally) giving the victim time to escape. The condom would remain attached to the attacker's body and could be removed only surgically, which would alert hospital staff and police.

The Rapex would also act as a regular female condom, reducing chances of impregnation or STD infection.

The device was unveiled on August 31, 2005 in rape-ridden South Africa.

[edit] Criticism

Critics, women included, have objected to Ehler's invention as "medieval" and "vengeful, horrible, and disgusting" [1] and oppose its planned sale in drugstores. Since the wearer of the condom exhibits no visible signals that she is using the condom, there is no visible deterrence for a prospective attacker, which adds to criticisms that the device is vindictive. Of course, this concern for the well-being of a violent rapist has garnered even harsher responses from proponents of the device in the blogosphere. However, the device has furthermore caused concern that it could be worn for consensual sex as part of a malicious act of revenge or outright cruelty. Others fear that use of the device would enrage the attacker and further jeopardize the victim.[2]

[edit] Background

The concept of a vagina dentata is rooted in ancient myth and had previously been explored in fiction, e.g. in Snow Crash by Neal Stephenson [3]. Ehler mentioned that she was inspired by a victim's reference to the myth [4

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I am not masochistic or sadistic I was merely following a thread which led to some strangeness. i was curious to see if the book I was reading was fiction or based on historical facts. Which led me to one of the historical figures in the book- Dr. W.C. Minor and that is where I found that he had performed and autopenectomy. Bizzarro! i think this book is going to be very very interesting...

Everyone must go through it when they start a new job. I just never realized how much I would feel on my first day working the front desk at a Fitness club. Great place, wonderful atmosphere; so what is this anxiety that I am feeling? I just started the job on Sunday. First a really fast, yet long intro to all of the duties of being a FDR (Front Desk Receptionist). There are so many and many of them deal with the red screen which happens when a member has done something that will keep them from being able to workout. Lots of things from a frozen account to a third strike on a member for forgetting to bring their ID. Now I know that the majority of my anxiety is due to not having a strong background in customer service, but also because i feel like I have forgotten everything I was told on Sunday. Tonight will be the second day on the job. I feel nervous. I don't like being thrown into something where I have very little knowledge and there are lots of paperwork for everything, etc. I think for my first day I felt way overwhelmed. So many papers to fill out, Team cleans every hour on the hour, calls, checking members in, dealing with problems that I have no answers for, dress code enforcements. Whoa! no wonder I feel crazed right!

I know I am capable of handling things and that I am still in training so mistakes are ok, but sometimes I think about the unhappy customers...
I feel better just writing it all down. I need to be able to do these things and all the technical stuff as well. Customer service is very important.

Still my goal right now is to get a job at a bookstore. Books are comforting.

I have an hour and a half until my shift. I am feeling better. It is funny to me how much I take learning a new job so serious. There is no way that I could learn everything in one day. Need some Zen, some calming, Some "so what" , devil may care, que sera sera attitude right now.

they need to bottle those attitudes so when you feel like you are lacking, anxious, uncertain etc., you can take a sip of courage (non-alcoholic).

Still getting used to how things work. I'll do fine. no worries... k done with this subject for now.

northern California is having the best weather for driving. I think if gas wasn't $3.00/gal I would have filled up and taken off somewhere. I did take a short drive in the sun. very nice.

Made my first strawberry-banana smoothie today. tasty! i received a product, called the magic bullet, for Christmas and have been having some fun experimenting with different drinks.

Still on the hunt for the right job for me. I feel more positive about possibilities now that it is bright and warm outside. I found a good bookstore in Rocklin, but the lady said they were not yet hiring. They were taking Applications, however she couldn't find them. Major Bummer!!!!

I haven't posted in a while because life hasn't sent anything exciting my way in a while. It has mostly been a slow process since getting out of school. I had too much time and didn't do the things I just now thought I could have been doing.

Lately it has been job hunting. Funny to try and find a job and realize that your degree does not equal a job. I think i knew that going into the communication major at least in the concentration of Intercultural and international Coms. If I could do it all over again I would pick Kinesiology and get a M.A in Physical therapy. Now I have to dig out from under years of going in the wrong direction. Start again and without the benefits and resources I had before I graduated. "que sera sera"

Job hunting is a lot like spitting out your car window while you are driving. Most of it is bound to land inside or on the side of the car. Little of it will make it to its destination.. away from the car.

So far mainly part time jobs are available or visible to me. The kind of jobs I should have tried when I was in high school or in college. Still sometimes you have to start from the bottom at least you know that there is no where else but up.

Also due to lack of funds and nowhere that I know that is free, to go, I have turned cleaning into an Olympic sport.Last night I couldn't sleep so I cleaned the entertainment system, and behind it, wiped off every counter...crazy.. I spent most of today making the world I spend 90% of my time in, a bit cleaner than before. I even moved furniture... I did accomplish some wall art in my Computer room and can proudly say it is starting to look very nice. I'll post some pictures at some point.

My question is, where and what is the job for me? I mean i am hardworking, capable, responsible, adaptable, trainable and have many different areas of experience to draw on, yet I am still having trouble finding a job, a full time job that isn't data entry. well the search continues. I do have a part time job.. sort of. i mean I have an employee code now, but have not been called in and have not been to the new hire training. It could be because there were 8 other people who were also hired.. and well I was one of the last to be hired.. still puzzling this one out.

Still there are many things to do. I need to perfect my typing. Didn't realize how rusty I was until I had to take a typing test. evil! There are lots of books that I would enjoy reading. There is always the nice nice gorgeous weather to enjoy. So I cannot complain about not being employed. Except for the money part. If only I could get paid to live life to its fullest...

P.S. I have enrolled in massage school and I start classes next month. That is exciting!

Nudged into journaling by a fellow live journal person, I am once again back on my page.
It is January, the new year. I am jobless, lazy, tired, and not as motivated as I thought I would be. No clue where to go, where to get a job, or what I want to do with my life. So if i seem off the radar that is why. I am laying on the couch, fluffy bunny slippers tapping gently on the coffee table as i wonder how old Bob, from Price is Right, really is.

That has been the past two days. Although i did manage to finish two books. The Ragwitch by Garth Nix, and Hell's Angels: A Strange and Terrible Saga by Hunter S Thompson.

I no longer live in Sacramento though i am not too far away.

Other than that i think I'll wander over to the mailbox in a few minutes.

Hope those that read this had a wonderful holiday.

What is a personal opinion and how are we able to form one, or several. Are we really forming a personal opinion? Or have we accepted a personal opinion because someone else had the same opinion? Authority breeds acceptance?

Dictionary.com Unabridged (v 1.0.1) -

o‧pin‧ion  /əˈpɪnyən/ –noun

1. a belief or judgment that rests on grounds insufficient to produce complete certainty.
2. a personal view, attitude, or appraisal.


American Heritage Dictionary -

o·pin·ion (-pnyn) n.

1. A belief or conclusion held with confidence but not substantiated by positive knowledge or proof:

"The world is not run by thought, nor by imagination, but by opinion" Elizabeth Drew).


In a collectivist culture opinion is formed based on family opinion. As a child the family is the authority and the child is part of the "we" of the family. Therefore any opinion formed will be that of the "we" not of the I. This is important to a collectivist society because social harmony is one of the highest virtues.

In an individualist culture having a "personal" opinion is a virtue. We as an "I" culture believe that we are forming an individual opinion. Alas it seems more that we are creating an illusion of an "I" opinion. Because you have to follow with "I" believe this and this is "my" opinion, because of the evidence based on what this other person said, who I believe to be right. Thus agreeing with another individual, and in essence forming into a group willing to believe in the whole while not accepting another "group" opinion. I believe because this person believed that this other person believed in this, so it is my opinion.

My question is are we having "personal" opinions or are we each adhering to a group opinion? If opinion is defined as the above, a personal thought or idea believed with a certain aspect of confidence, but lacking in substantial evidence, then why have an opinion? Especially, if it is not backed up by conclusive evidence. Seeing that it seems "Evidence" is also an important factor in an Individualist culture's belief of an opinion. If no evidence is evident in an opinion, what do we have? What is an opinion with evidence? A theory?

I once had a friend ask me to form an opinion on an idea. I told him I could not form one because I knew nothing about the idea. He said, make one up anyway. I said no. Without any knowledge how can I form an opinion? Now with a proper definition I realize that an opinion is often built on a shaky foundation of I believe, and that’s the way it is, or a friend told me so, types of attitudes. Opinions while useful in setting a sense of somewhere to begin, are not built on strong foundations worthy of a blind following.

What does it mean "Personal opinion"?

Dictionary.com Unabridged (v 1.0.1)

per‧son‧al  /ˈpɜrsənl/ –adjective

1. of, pertaining to, or coming as from a particular person; individual; private: a personal opinion.

Ah so based on this definition personal opinion would be somewhat unique to the individual? Where does ones personal opinion come from? It had to have been formed and based on others opinions. There is not much of this world that has not been thought about or formed by others. Also, there are opinions from others who have thought before them. With 6 billion plus people in the world, are opinions unique to each individual? I see opinions as a form of thought or belief influenced by those who came before me, who had their opinions based on those who came before them and so on. I am not sure that opinions are truly "unique" too many people out there, that I cannot say my opinion is purely mine and there is no one else with the same opinion. An authority figure could have placed an influential hand upon the shoulder of your or my opinion and thus even though we each believe our opinion is ours it was influenced by someone else. Is it truly my opinion if someone else told me about it? maybe, maybe not. I of course have the choice to accept or reject based on my cultures values of "independent thinking" yet we are all, even in Individualist cultures, subject to external authoritative influence. So what is personal, and is it really personal?

but..Mainly sleep deprived college students and high strung business people. (See I was so PC). as I sit at my boring yet flexible job, I am drawn into a daydream.
For a few moments each day I contemplate the brick wall directly in front of me. There are a few pictures left from the days when I desired to personalize my environment. When I tried to mold it into something artistic. Now I sadistically a systematically pull down pictures enjoying the degeneration of personality. I grin and think about the day I will pull the last one off, toss it in the box I have ready, wave my goodbyes and run from the building and into the arms of... what? Where am I going after this? The brakes come on and I am standing rigid in a fantasy of escape. I look around and think, where will I go? Who will take me in? What will I be doing? world of possibilities or slippery slope?
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October is coming. The air is changing, the smell of fall is all around and the leaves will change and turn brittle. They will display themselves in flashy red and gold shaking, turning, and dancing about. They will play in the breeze while battering our heads with their triumphant leaps. The entire atmosphere of October is beautiful. Calm, dark, cold and yet it brings such comfort. It is a time for pulling out the over sized sweaters. Wrapping thick warm comforters around our shivering bodies. People will begin to imagine the costumes they will wear and the parties they will be going to. Oh wonderful fall! Oh October how I love the transition! There is such a feeling in the air as October approaches. My whole body is beginning to awaken. Excited shivers run down my spine as I think about all that is October.

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Another wonderful thing about Fall is the sleep. I always feel warm and loathe to leave my down comforter and 100s of blankets. My sweet cocoon how it embraces me like a lover. Holds me close and whispers soft, warmth into my body. How could I ever leave it? My bed. twisting itself around me. Confusing me with comfort while it entangles my legs and befuddles my senses. nothing matters in those moments of sleep. The bed is my prison and I brainwashed by comfort am its willing prisoner.

"Got tired of wasting all my time, now i'm not worrying at all." -TMBG

Sipping my Natural Herbal Tonic I contemplate the brick wall before me. After two years of layering my self onto it, I am bringing down my personal wall to give way to the natural brick structure. By the time I am done there will be nothing left of myself at work. Only the cold brick of the institutionalized wall.

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Time has come to forget the bitterness of the past. Time to clean off the walls of my soul, scrape off the pictures that still cause pain and learn to forget.To forget, forget, forget. Stand myself on the highest point and laugh, laugh until i am overcome. There is nothing in the past to sustain me. From here I must go forward onto a different path. Is this growing up? Or maybe growing sideways and spiraling away?
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ahahahahahahahahhahahah Lunatic but oh how refreshing to merely laugh at the deeper anxieties of ones mind. and so hahahahahahahahahahahahahhhahahahahahaaaahahaha le ha! relief-release
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Where do I go from here?

Some nights i lay awake and ponder. my mind races through the events of the day, the week and on through all the moments where i have done something embarrassing. i wonder why i relive the times where i have made mistakes. I am almost at that section of time where sleep will evade me for the rest of the night. Some time after midnight and I gain a new awakeness. A rebooting. Then there is no sleep not until night comes for me a second time.

I want to spin around in circles and fall laughingly onto the soft grassy bed of a meadow. To see blue sky above me and not worry about tripping over my feet because they have already fallen out from under me.

silence is not real it is an illusion. i have not met with real silence. merely a different form of noise. Even the woods have sound.

tiny excerpts from a tangled mind. i am aware of my skin, the tingling in my foot as it wakes from sleep. The tangles in my hair, the pressure of my elbow against the desk...
I want to keep typing and typing, but what am i writing? The obvious answer.. nothing . i am writing to empty my mind so that i can rent out the space to a new thought, idea... dream. Where will the transient thoughts take me? i can hope that they lead me to the cooling liquid of language where i can drink freely from the wealth of knowledge until my own thoughts meld with the tranquil surface and plunge into my mental depths. what is in there, far down beneath the the trifles of everyday living?

Are there questions with no answers?

what does my soul look like? Is it a color? Does it have a voice of its own?
Could you describe your soul to me? Could I describe mine to you? there is bonding, soul touching soul in that narrow moment of time where the sun slips beneath the rim. where light and dark meet and part ways. i want to touch my soul.

I get the hint enough bahs! i do stand by the smile thing. i got a half cocked smile. (breathes on hand) oh my... I need some breath mints.

Plus I have proof about the smile thing. my friend Lori and I went to hollywood vid and there was this amazingly goodlooking guy. when we were all walking out to our cars i made a comment to him about his very new very nice.. very macho car. Lori Smiled, I smiled he said you have a beautiful smile and then proceeded to make sure Lori knew it was her he was talking to. ahhh.. yes..

ok so i'll rewind and will amend my earlier blog entry. your bahs have been noted.

myspace brings a new level to 6 degrees of separation. In 5 moves of people I just met I was able to find one person i knew in high School. This is truly a crazy small world.

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Making friends. Had an experience that made me evaluate myself. I am a cold slab of meat when I first meet people. it sux asterics, but there it is. Without certain features it can be difficult to draw in new people. I have a friend who has this big smile. Anytime she flashes it at a person no matter who they are they are instantly drawn to her. same with Big breasted women. Nothing wrong with big breasts, just noticed that people are drawn to them. Subconsciously of course. :) I alas am flat chested and must come off as cold and withdrawn. hehe Oh if you only knew the odd girl beneath it all. Thats ok i get to be observant. I like listening and watching.

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Small steps for now

I think i have bloggers fear... there is a smooth wall of pressure and I cannot seem to push through to the other side. hmm.. I'll need a moment... I'll be back! Damn you Journal I will heave upon you my words! There is no stopping me. I will find a way. Until then.. I may need to become inebriated.

Gravelly sensations linger beneath my eyelids as I realize that I must read another page of uninteresting literature. This type of literature is the one that teachers didn't really read, but found that the excerpt on the back and the expensive price must equal greatness. I admit that I am being a bit bitter, but coming off a nice break filled with thought provoking books to be swamped with tasteless readings is a slap in the face of good reading.
I haven't been able to read anything but textbooks for the past 6 weeks. Not long I know and yes there is a light at the end of the tunnel called summer. i will survive.
Mainly I am writing to rant and boohoo at an empty stretch of white space. Truth be told I realized I do not have many friends. My fault I am sure. I sit by myself on campus and study. As I was dozing off in a not so comfortable chair staring into the sun I heard a table full of laughter and realized I haven't been out with a group of friends for a laugh in such a long long time. Then I realized all my friends have graduated and have left me here. Even my roommate is graduating this semester and because we are not the same major and have different hours I rarely see her and I live with her!. How did I become so boring? I get up go to work go to class go to work go home do homework watch TV. I am a sad case. Do they have any of those tag team makeover shows that could whip up my life to a more suitable degree of culture and interest while giving me a haircut and teaching me how to groom myself better? Call it 180 makeover with a little clean sweep mixed in for good measure.
The question still stands how did I become so boring? It seems to have snuck up on me. How do people pull off a life while going to school and working? I long for the day I graduate; before I become a permanent fixture the birds do their business negotiations on.
Now I must away to class. I think people should sleep more. Nap time should be reinstated

Though that isn't what I was going to write about, just popped into my head because sometimes it is impossible for my brain to squeeze out a snappy little phrase for the subject line.
I could talk about Christmas. A time of year where we gather around and hang with family members. I think that I will wait. The aftermath of the wave of christmas day is much more interesting.More stories than you can shake a wet umbrella at.
Until then I shall blather on about nothing in particular and possibly find an interesting tidbit along the way.

Some day in my nerdy escapades I will seek out the one nerdy gift I truly want. No pocket protectors for me. Just an electronic dictionary with more words than I know what to do with. It shall have the ability to be added to and subtracted from. Common words I use all the time will be dispersed with and words so foreign to my tongue that I never knew english could produced them shall be added to this simple and effective machine.

Also I am going to make sure my Strange stories never told but thought up by a weirdo, get written. Right now they are randomly situated on post it notes and paper napkins. Best places to write things down I must say, but really hard to organize.

Until I figure out more to say...

In the realm of reading i once again have the pleasure of sitting down with good books of my choosing and many recommendations from friends. The problem arises when I realize there is no one to discuss these books with. The current two books I have read are rolling around in my head. There are no outlets for these thoughts as these two books are ones that my current circle would not wish to have infesting their mindset.
It seems that I am at a place where I am merely complaining, but where does one find people that wish to discuss literature and are willing to take in a literary straggler who is not on the same par as people who have been reading and critiquing? How would i find a group of book lovers who both hate and love the books they read? People who are willing to trash even the most popular or classic artists in the name of personal truth? Yet leave open room for other opinions that are both true and wrong? Where can I find blatant bias wrapped in acknowledgment of it? Where is the place where one long fingered hand wraps elegantly around a hot cup of effeminate coffee while the other hand dances about to the telling of a story? Does this place exist and how do I find it, join it, be consumed by its literature and ravenous opinion?
I bring all this to electronic paper because I feel alone in this information I have gotten from these books. I can share none with my close friends because they will never want to read the books I read. The topic is taboo as well. An uncomfortable and hidden thing I must not even admit that it is talked about. Maybe my friend D. Will feel different. Maybe D. will be open to the discussion.. maybe someone will.I just need to know how to find a group of people to discuss un-discussable and discussable things with.. one that isn't consumed by politics and really wants to dig deeper into the written word.. Somewhere with couches and old chairs and a smell of coffee..

I have been here biding my time until something truly interesting comes along before I could write or blog. I am currently a random disorderly blogger. Excuses excuses, but I am no slave to the blog.
Events as follows: I am currently looking forward to my birthday. I love october. It is by far the best month. Nothing can change my mind about this month! My birthday is the day before halloween. So I am only partially creepy with a pinch of wicked. ;)

I have 2 more semester to go, just 6 classes before I am able to take chisel to manacle and release myself from the tortures of the current institution. I have been with my significant other for a year (well november 5th is the 'official' day) I am having a great time with him.
I am beginning to believe that the pressures of plagiarism need to be written about. Like there isn't enough stress on college students we now must fear every word we lay down with pen or type to paper. We are pressured gleefully by tenured Professors who long to expel and who gloat about the many students they have caught "red handed" and have had the greatest pleasure in kicking out of prestigious schools. Now I am not saying that taking a published idea and making it yours is a proper way to do things, but to me the world is plagiarism. nothing we do say or write is new. With 6 billion people on this earth there is some one some where having the same ideas as you are. I guess it is whoever publishes the idea first gets to ream the waking world with plageristic voyeurism.

This brings me to art... while I greatly enjoy art and originality, I have no room in my visual sphere for people who shit on paper, call it art and expect the me to swallow it as genius. yet the artistic masses eat it as if a delicacy were placed before them. A steaming pile of uncreative process. There is something wrong with some of this so called abstract art. Also art that animals do.Stepping across paper with your cute little paint smeared paws is in mo way equal to Picasso, Renoir , or Cezanne... While I am sure it is cute it is not great art. What? Who am I to judge? Do I have years of art degrees in my little leather belt? What right do I have to criticize?

My eyes have the right not to look upon wasted college art education in progress, my mind has a right as a thinking human being not to accept everything art critiques say is true. last I checked I was able to have my own opinion and smear it graciously across wilting white paper and endless amounts of gray computer screen chat rooms.

As a reader you have a right not to read my own lovingly filthy opinions. What is truth anyways?
Rant, rant, rant!