WTF?

So something really weird happened last night. We went to bed at like 10:30 or something (since we're trying to unnocturnalize ourselves) and I was exhausted and went right to sleep. Around midnight or something Hans managed to wake me up. What was weird about that is that I woke up unbelievably pissed off. I don't mean I was irritated because he woke me up, I mean I was so pissed off I was close to tears. Really really angry. And I was angry at everything!

I was pissed at Hans for waking me up, I was pissed with Hans when he fell back asleep before me, I was pissed off at him every time he tossed and turned, I was pissed at him for snoring softly, I was pissed at the dog for being asleep, I was pissed at her for laying on my blanket, I was pissed at the blanket for being too damn hot, I was pissed at the clock for ticking, I was pissed at my pillow for being flat and uncomfortable, I was pissed at my nose for being stuffy, and I was pissed at myself for being so pissed off in the first place.

That's just the tip of the iceberg, too. But I thought that maybe I'd just go back to sleep and feel better when I woke up. So I did, and when Hans woke me up again around 5 or so by getting out of bed, I was fine. No more anger. Not even slight irritation. It baffles me.

Hell Yeah!

I really think humans should have the ability to purr. That's right up there with the whole beta-fish-oughta-be-able-to-growl idea of mine. In any event, if I could purr I'd be doing that right now.

One reason for this is because Hans got his old computer to work again. Said computer has SNES and SEGA emulators and hundreds of games for each, so the last few days have been spent playing Super Mario, Donkey Kong, Mariokart, and other classics. Kick ass!

The other reason for that is that I've discovered that while my Norwegian isn't exactly worthy of mention yet, I can still read comic books. Under ordinary circumstances I'm not much of a fan of comics--ahem, "graphic novels", whatever--the fact that I can read the Norwegian and with the aid of the pictures understand the story (and learn new words in the process, holy crap!) is more than a little satisfying to little old me.

The other half-reason (which ties into the second reason) is that I've known that I can read comics for a few weeks, but haven't done so because I thought that Hans only had Donald Duck comics, which I don't find very interesting. Well, it's good to be wrong sometimes. Today he pulled out this series of several comics about the Norse gods. So now it's educational, fun, and interesting on many levels. Lovin' it!

*purr*

Ah, Norway...

These people are freakin nuts. Really. The dogs are too.

Check this out, I was just outside with Furball, and evidently at this particular time today, a lot of people had places to go. And they were all running late or something. Who knows. Anyways, it's snowing. Just started, so it's still that fluffy, ooh-aah kind of snow. Loose on the ground and slippery. Doesn't help that it got up to about zero the other day, allowing the snow that was already on the ground to warm up just enough to transform into slippery sheets of death as soon as the temperature plummeted again.

And just how are our lovely Norwegian drivers handling this, you might wonder? Well, expeditiously, to say the least.

[sarcasm]Because it's so fun to spin out. I mean, you can pretend your a stunt driver. How exciting.[/sarcasm]

Seriously, what the hell is wrong with these people? And I don't wanna hear that lame-assed argument that because they're so acclimatized to the snowy weather that they can safely drive like maniacs on icy roads. If that were the case, pedestrians wouldn't be putting their lives at risk by stepping off their doorsteps. Like Hans. Hit twice FFS!

So, back to me and Furball being outside, just to give you a personal encounter with the madness. We were standing on the side of the road waiting to cross the street. There aren't sidewalks in this tiny little town either. Well, a car drove by. I'm standing on the side of the road. The friggin car moved closer to me as it drove past. That's right folks, CLOSER! So close in fact, that I winced in preparation of getting my toes run over. To be honest, I wouldn't be surprised if the passenger's side windows aren't foggy from the rapid exhalation of breath that was started out of me as the damn car passed. Psychos.

Oh, and our little Norwegian dog, what was her role in all this? The crazy little animal tries to bite the freakin cars when they drive by. Or chase them. Actually, I'm not sure what she's trying for, cus I'm too busy trying to get a grip on the leash to prevent her from succeeding. Whatever she's after, she spins around once, and then lunges in the direction of the car.

It's madness!

The Serial-Thief Stikes Again!

This time with permission--nay, insistence!

Okay, Leigh's idea here was to take the original questions and change at most two letters per question for the ones I feel like changing, that is. This doesn't include spaces and punctuation. So to further convolute the questions, I'm going to do just that with the new questions Leigh formed. Huzzah. And in my version, I'm allowing myself to switch the order of two words, as well.

1. What's the longest tire you've sent out in nature?
Well generally tires are considered more round or perhaps "girthy" than long, really. And in any event, I'm not a member of such an unusual Indian tribe that sends their young tires out into nature to mature into adults.

2. Is that your opinion under our fished penguins?
No, I'm pretty sure I left my opinion beside some stretched peas.

3. What country would your orbital flatworm of weevil orbit geo-synchronously?
Well, the uprising of weevils would most likely occur in Australia since that's the only place they could use the pygmies to make orbital flatworms in the first place. And since weevils are territorial creatures, they'd continue to orbit Australia pelting any would-be intruders with kangaroo feces.

4. WHERE ISN'T THE BOND?!
The ions! They won't form a compound!!!

5. What is your make of mismatched socks?
I haven't gotten a patent for it just yet, so for security purposes I decline to answer.

6. How many mimes in your fife? Have you beaten a persimmon?
Theoretically speaking if there were mimes in my fife, the fife wouldn't make any noise. As to the persimmon, well, let's just say I'm not proud of it.

7. What is the most muse-less invention (actual invention) that you can think of?
Quite possibly the rubber things that are on the bottom of chair legs to keep them from scraping the floor.

8. Which floor of a 55-floor apartment building would you be most comfortable sliding on, and why?
Probably the ground floor. If I'm sliding uncontrollably towards a window, I'd be more comfortable knowing that the ground is only a short distance away.

9. How will the world send dung for Whimper?
I'm not sure who Whimper is, really, or what the world's policy on post-order dung is, but if it were me sending the dung, personally I'd lob it through the air at Whimper just for kicks and giggles.

10. Would you give honey to a homeless man if you knew he was going to use it to find an orbital death rat project?
Hell yeah. Just so I could watch him and learn how to find an orbital death rat project with the use of honey.

11. Kittens or Gnomes?
Kittens are cuter, but gnomes are so much cooler. No contest really.

12. What's the one physical feature of the opposite sex, that never fails to make you snore?
I can't say that I'm overly excited about the space between a man's toes.

13. What is the stupidest thing you've ever seen a bird wearing?
A sombrero and "Elton John" sunglasses.

14. If you really needed to convince someone of some thongs, what would you use as your secret coupon?
Erm... buy two, get one free?

15. What's your underlying motivation in Jiff?
Mmm... peanut butter. I'd say, the creaminess. Or perhaps that tantalizing smell. Probably not its tendency to stick to the inside of your mouth.

16. What is your opinion of duck hoards?
Wait, are the ducks being hoarded, or are the ducks doing the hoarding? I don't know what a sensible duck would hoard to begin with, but I don't imagine it to be anything more serious than bread crumbs or seeds or something. But if some random sadist is hoarding the ducks themselves, well... he should at least have a permit for that kind of thing.

17. Mink loot you couldn't live without?
A mink loot... Um, I don't think I could live without the minks looting the duck's of their hoards.

Stealing is Fun

I suppose this is primarily to sort of shun the bitchy post from yesterday (which I might add I started to regret having made the post shortly thereafter). And I'm stealing it because I found his answers funny, which therefore attracts my attention. Or something like that. I think I'm babbling again. So here goes...

1) What side of the heart do you draw first?
Right half, then left half, top to bottom.

2) Can you dive without plugging your nose?
Sure can. The trick is to blow a small amount of air out of your nose in the event that water starts to trickle in. ;)

3) What color is your razor?
Blue. And silver. And white. I think. You know, I'm really not sure.

4) What is your blood-type?
The red type. And the O type. And the positive type.

5) Who would you want to be tied to for 24 hours?
Someone cuddly. And clean. Preferably an interesting person... like um... someone.

6) What is a rumor someone has spread about you?
I don't believe I was so worthy of mention that anyone tried to start a rumor about me. Which, I might add, was probably more fortunate than not.

7) How do you feel about carrots?
I want to hug them and squeeze them and cuddle them, and otherwise, eat them.

8) How many chairs at the dining room table?
Hmm. Here, there are four. At home... I forget already. More than four.

9) Which is the best Spice Girl?
A silent one.

10) Do you know what time it is?
Tool time?

11) Do you know all the words to the Fresh Prince Theme ?
In west Philadelphia, born and raised. On the playground is where I spent most of my days. Chillin' out, maxin', relaxin' all cool. I was shootin' some B-ball outside the school, when a couple of guys who were up to no good started makin' trouble in the neighborhood. Etc, etc. Yes, I do.

12) What would you do if you were stuck in an elevator?
Probably sit there.

14) True or False: All's fair in love and war?
False.

15) Do you know how to use some words correctly, but not know the meaning?
Yeah... um, I'll let you know when I think of one.

16) Do you like to sleep?
Pretty obvious answer if you ask me.

17) Do you know which US states don't use Daylight Savings Time?
I didn't know there were any.

18) Do you know the song Total Eclipse of the Heart?
Yeah, but I can't remember any lyrics from it except "It's a total eclipse of the heeeeeeearrrrt."

19) Do you want a bright yellow '06 mustang?
Not a bright yellow one, but if the opportunity presented itself, I doubt very much that I'd turn it down.

20) What's something you've always wanted?
To quote Leigh: A job I really truly like doing.

21) Do you have hairy legs?
Refer to that razor question up there somewhere.

22) Would you rather swim in the ocean or a lake?
I've never swam in the ocean, regrettably. So, I'm gonna have to say lake for the time being.

23) Describe your hair?
Long, um, brown, and uh, annoying.

24) Do you have Entomophobia?
Provided that my encounters with insects don't involve touching or eating them, I'm quite fine.

25) Are you an adult?
It could be argued that I am.

26) Where is/are your best friend(s) ?
Half-way around the world.

27) Do you have a tan?
No, that requires sunlight. Or money. Both of which are currently lacking in my life.

28) Are you a television addict?
No. The shows I care about aren't aired here, except one that's only one for one hour a week.

29) Do you enjoy spending time with your mother?
Provided we're not at odds with each other, yeah.

30) Are you a sugar freak?
No, not really.

31) Do you like orange juice?
Yeah, so?

32) Where do you wish you were right now?
In a cabin in the middle of a forest, curled up in front of a fireplace.

Grumble Grumble

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

You know what I really hate? People that express their opinion as if it were fact. It's not written in stone, no matter how passionately you believe in it. It's your opinion. And believe it or not, not everyone is going to agree. It doesn't make them stupid or uneducated. It makes them different. Nothing more or less. And to think otherwise is to be an arrogant prick.

Funny thing is, it seems to be more important to some to argue over mere differences of opinion--which means of course, to press your opinion more forcefully--than to simply ignore something so superficial. Surely it's more fun to be angry and to quarrel with people you care about than it is to just LET. IT. GO.

Stupid.

More De Lint

Earlier this evening Saskia and I were talking about magic and wonder, about how it can come and go in your life, or more particularly, how it comes and goes in my life. That's the side of me that people don't get to see when all they can access is the published page. I'm as often a skeptic as a believer. I'm not the one who experiences those oddities that appear in the stories; I'm the one who chronicles the mystery of them, trying to make sense out of what they can impart about us, our world, our preconceptions of how things should be.

The trouble is, mostly life seems to be exactly what it is. I can't find the hidden card waiting to be played because it seems too apparent that the whole hand is already laid out on the table. What you see is what you get, thanks, and do come again.

I want there to be more.

Even my friends assume I'm the knowledgeable expert who writes the books. None of them knows how much of a hypocrite I really am. I listen well and I know exactly what to say to keep the narrative flowing. I can accept everything that's happened to them--the oddest and most absurd stories they tell me don't make me blink an eye--but all the while there's a small voice chanting in the back of my head.

As if, as if, as if...

I wasn't always like this, but I'm good at hiding how I've changed, from those around me, as well as from myself.

But Saskia knows me too well.

"You used to live with a simple acceptance of the hidden world," she said when the conversation finally turned into a circle and there was nothing new to add. "You used to live with magic and mystery, but now you only write about it."

I didn't know how to reply.

I wanted to tell her that it's easy to believe in magic when you're young. Anything you couldn't explain was magic then. It didn't matter if it was science or a fairy tale. Electricity and elves were both infinitely mysterious and equally possible--elves probably more so. It didn't seem particularly odd to believe that actors lived inside your TV set. That there was a repertory company inside the radio, producing its chorus of voices and music. That a fat, bearded man lived at the North Pole and kept tabs on your behavior.

I wanted to tell her that I used to believe she was born in a forest that only exists inside the nexus of a connection of computers, entangled with one another where they meet on the World Wide Web. A Wordwood that appears in pixels on the screen, but has another, deeper existence somewhere out there in the mystery that exists concurrent to the Internet, the way religion exists in the gathering of like minds.

But not believing in any of it now, I wasn't sure that I ever had.

Taken from "The Fields Beyond the Fields" by Charles De Lint. Moonlight & Vines.

Brrr...cold!

So it was -23°C last night. (For you Fahrenheit peeps, that's like -9 or so.) I still don't have a coat. This bugs me. Granted that the main reason I've not yet acquired a coat is my own bloody negligence, it still bugs me. (In fact, that's probably why it bugs me so damn much!)

Thing is, though, I could wear one of Hans's coats, but I don't want to. Yeah, I know I'm stubborn, but still. I have on at least three shirts when I go outside--Tshirt, sweater, big ol' hoody. My torso and arms are not cold. I get pestered to wear a "top hat" and gloves, too. The hoody, true to its name, has a hood, so if my ears should happen to get cold, I happily put the hood up. And while ordinary coldness doesn't bother my hands (gotta love abnormally long sleeves) this morning while I was out, my hands were cold, so I decided that such cold temperatures do indeed merit gloves.

The part of me that gets cold is my thighs (probably from the style of pants I wear) and most especially my neck and the mouth region of my face. Funnily enough, I've not been bugged to wear a scarf. I don't think my dear Hans has one. I have one (courtesy of Allison's mom) but that, too, was left at home. Damn.

Oh, that reminds me... Mom, if you still read this, please send the scarf in my closet, too! It's black and kinda furry, and I think I left it hanging on that metal thingy that supports the shelf in the middle.

Anyways, in other news, Hans is happily absorbed in some kind of biathlon on TV. The last I heard of whatever event is going on now Russia was winning, followed by the US and then Norway. Do you care? Yeah, me neither. So I'm left to my own devices and quite content.

Speaking of content, a thought occurred to me the other day. I realized that for the first time since I was at Miami that I'm content with everything. Since leaving Miami, I've pretty much been mostly down and depressed--not extremely so most of the time, but still somewhat morose. However, while the first month here was muchly the same (just like my first month at Miami) I'm really quite contented once again. It's nice.

And lastly, being left to my own devices has finally allowed me to listen to Therion's new album from start to finish, and holy crap, they did surpass their old one (which was a difficult feat, if I do say so myself). Not that any of you cares, except perhaps Leigh, but still. Well, Allison might care since I sent her one off it already.

So yeah, I'll stop rambling now. Toodles.

More Ogden Nash

Everybody Tells Me Everything
-Ogden Nash

I find it very difficult to enthuse
Over the current news.
Just when you think that at least the outlook is so black that it can grow no blacker, it worsens,
And that is why I do not like the news, because there has never been an era when so many things were going so right for so many of the wrong persons.

---

Song of the Open Road
-Ogden Nash

I think that I shall never see
A billboard lovely as a tree
Indeed, unless the billboards fall
I'll never see a tree at all.

Being True to Oneself

As I sit here and quietly listen and watch Hans play his keyboard, my entire being aches to hold and play my clarinet. I've not done so for months upon end and so I find that the need inside of me--the need for music--is crying out for something more. It's not a desire to join another mediocre band (which is why I've stayed off the music scene for so long) but is instead a longing to once again find myself in the pit amongst professionals. Getting paid to play. Don't get me wrong, it's not the money that pulls me towards it. It's knowing that being compensated for one's creative abilities almost guarantees the quality of the other musicians in the group. I know it sounds arrogant, but for music to be music, it must be played well, does it not?

I also find myself slightly envious of Hans's abilities. His ear is remarkable and his knowledge of chords and music theory is more than a little impressive. Sadly, my own such abilities leave much to be desired. At first, I shunned scales, chords, and music theory as if it were an infectious plague. To me, it was the boring side of music, but in my last year of high school, I started to absorb as much of it as possible. My clarinet teacher was, unfortunately, unable to teach me very much of it. The fact is regrettable. (And yet I wouldn't take back or trade a single lesson I had with him for anything.)

As a result, it doesn't simply work if I'm told we're playing in B minor. I lack the ability to throw out anything melodic or snappy on my own. My abilities--or perhaps lack thereof--lean more towards taking what's on the page and making it my own. And that may very well be a mediocre skill, but it is my talent nonetheless. It's what I so strongly desire to do right now.

There is a clarinet here, but it's too late for me to play it right now. And it's not really in working order, either. It's playable, yes, but only just.

I have, at least, found an answer to a previous conundrum--that I lack conviction and passion. It's not true. If there is one thing on this Earth that I can truly say I'm passionate about, it's music.

Because I'm Bored... Again

Your Pride Quotient: 43%

You have your proud moments, but you're also likely to be a little ashamed of them. Don't be too hard on yourself. It's normal to want to make a stellar impression.

How Much Pride Do You Have?

What Your Bathroom Habits Say About You

You are a very considerate person, but that doesn't mean you let people walk all over you. Your idea of fashion is jeans and a t-shirt. Clean, if you're lucky. You have the perfect blend of confidence and class. You're proud of who you are - but you don't broadcast it. In relationships, you are practical and realistic. You have a romantic side, but you only let it out when it's appropriate.

What Do Your Bathroom Habits Say About You?

You Have a Phlegmatic Temperament

Mild mannered and laid back, you take life at a slow pace. You are very consistent - both in emotions and actions. You tend to absorb set backs easily. You are cool and collected. It is difficult to offend you. You can remain composed and unemotional. You are a great friend and lover. You don't demand much of others. While you are quiet, you have a subtle wit that your friends know well. At your worst, you are lazy and unwilling to work at anything. You often get stuck in a rut, without aspirations or dreams. You can get too dependent on others, setting yourself up for abandonment.

What Temperment Are You?

You Are An INFP

The Idealist You are creative with a great imagination, living in your own inner world. Open minded and accepting, you strive for harmony in your important relationships. It takes a long time for people to get to know you. You are hesitant to let people get close. But once you care for someone, you do everything you can to help them grow and develop. You would make an excellent writer, psychologist, or artist.

What's Your Personality Type?

Your True Birth Month Is September

Thinking Sensitive Secretive Systematic Understanding Good memory Calm and cool Does work well Likes to criticize Loves wide things Kind and sympathetic Hardly shows emotions Concerned and detailed Able to motivate oneself Suave and compromising Clever and knowledgeable Quiet but able to talk well Tends to bottle up feelings Loves to look for information Trustworthy, loyal and honest Careful, cautious and organized Choosy especially in relationships Loves sports, leisure and traveling Must control oneself when criticizing Likes to point out people's mistakes

What's Your True Birth Month?

You are 87% Gemini

How Gemini Are You?

---

Okay, so my true birth month is September, and yet I'm 87% Gemini. That makes so much sense...