Watch Your Steph

bittersweet

2009-08-16T00:45:00.001-04:00

Current Song: 'Time Is Running Out' by Muse.

So I'm back behind the computer again. After the four most amazing days ever, I'm back behind the fucking computer.

John is amazing and wonderful and sweet and funny and just absolutely everything that I want. I went to Timblin for two fantastic days with him, his sister, and his mom. His mom's really nice and his sister is just such a cool chick. We spent the two days swimming and talking and having a really great time. I even got to see Punxsutawney with all its hokey groundhog statues.

After two days, I didn't want to go home, but I managed to get John to come back here with me for another two days. Back here, we swam and talked and hung out with Ralph and Devin. Everything was so perfect and excellent. I got along with his sister well and he got along with Ralph and Devin well.

I called off Friday, and though I couldn't justify calling off today, I still got to spend a few hours with him before I had to take him to Butler to catch a ride home.

We were so right. What we had together online was more than worth pursuing. I haven't been so happy and so content and so completely crazy about someone... ever. I couldn't have asked for anything more.

Today was hard though. Excruciatingly hard. Think what you will, but I really just feel like crying right now. I feel almost lost, like I'm drifting without anything to hold me in place. And when I go to bed tonight and I have to sleep without his arms around me and his breath in my ear... I think I am going to cry.

It's funny how some seemingly little things can have such an affect on a person's heartstrings. Like on Friday, when I had to wake up at 7:30 to call Mike and tell him I wasn't coming to work, I set my alarm and got up. After calling Mike, I went back to bed, and as soon as I pulled the covers back to crawl in, John, who wasn't even really awake, opened his arms and pulled me close. Finally someone who wants to hold me for a change, instead of wanting me to hold him.

So hopelessly addicted from that point on.

I don't know what's going to happen now though. Dad's made quite clear that I'm not making that drive again, at least until the car's fixed. And when I got back tonight, he remarked that I looked sad and proceeded with the other-fish-in-the-sea lecture.

But there's not. Not for me, not anymore. I don't even want to think about just how fucking hard this is going to be, and how pissed off he and I are going to be with each other now that we've met, now that we know what it could be like.

If I close my eyes, I can still remember... my fingers in his hair, his teeth on my neck...

I miss you so much already, hunny. So, so much.

omg omg omg!

2009-08-11T00:32:00.002-04:00

Current Song: 'King Nothing' by Metallica.

It's finally gonna happen. Definitely. No excuses, no mishaps. I'm going to visit John on Wednesday, coming home on Thursday. So excited!

That being the best news of the day, let's move on to other good, but not as good stuff. I asked Mike for a raise today. He laughed at me. Considering how I allegedly screwed up last week with the parakeet thing, I suppose that's understandable. The conversation went a little something like this...

"Hey Mike. I know I recently screwed up, which might impact your decision on this, but... how 'bout a raise?"

*sidelong glance, followed by mad laughter*

"It's been seven months," I said, shrugging my shoulders.

"Has it really been that long?"

I nod. "Started in January."

"Wow. I try to give everyone raises every three or four months."

Yeah, bullshit. So, long story short, after all that, he said OK. No idea how much of a raise I'm getting, but at least it'll be something. Makes me happy.

And last but not least, Ralph, Devin, and I went down to the Burgh Bar tonight for wings, and though it was crowded, it was a lot of fun.

So... a good day today. I'm happy.

i've finally done it!

2009-08-05T23:21:00.002-04:00

Current Song: 'Sarabande' by Escala

Yes, ladies and gents, my day has come at last. I beat Ralph in a game of pool. On purpose. And I don't mean I beat him, like, he scratched on the eight ball or anything stupid and beat himself. I mean: I. Beat. Him. All by myself! Booyah Grandma!

In fact, I almost beat him the first game, but something stupid happened. I had him beat, I really did. I had a fairly easy shot on the eight ball in the side pocket, I called it, and then Ralph said, "You're doing what?" He thought it would be easier for me to sink it in the corner pocket, so after looking at it again, I decided he was right. Called it in the corner, lined up my shot... and fucking sank it in the side. *mutters* I betcha any money I couldn't do that one again if I tried.

Oh well. I got my revenge. I won the second game. 'Course then the guy that I played next really kicked my ass. He has a birth defect such that he was born with only one finger on each of his hands, but he freaking rocks at pool. I haven't seen him lose yet. Plus, he helped me out on a couple of shots that I wasn't sure what to do with, so that's cool.

And there's this older gentleman that always comes down, watches everyone play pool, and mutters about their shitty game. The only one of 'our crowd' that he'll actually play is Ralph, and he's kind of an asshole about it too. But while I was playing my second game with Ralph, I heard him say, "Wow, you must be one hell of a teacher, Ralph. She's gotten a whole lot better."

Yeah, dude. Way to compliment Ralph on my improving game. Ass.

And in other news--other much more exciting news, I might add--I might get to go hang out with John one of these days pretty soon here. He did end up moving near Punxsutawney, which sucks, but there is an upside--I can finally spell 'Punxsutawney' without having to google it. Thank god for small miracles, right?

Seriously though, I'm so excited about meeting him. If he's even half as amazing as he is online, I'll be more happy than I have words for. I've never wanted to meet an online person as much I want to meet him. Never, ever.

bad fucking terrible miserable wretch of a goddamned bitch ass day

2009-08-03T23:31:00.001-04:00

Work was sooooo much fun today, let me tell you. And it's only going to get better in the next few weeks. Bleh.

See, what you need to know here is that me and Dan worked together yesterday. Just the two of us, doing everything, all day. So basically, we were short-handed no matter what, since we were so busy. And, as it happened, I found a dead parakeet in the morning, and our feeder fish had been dropping like flies all day.

Well, apparently, this morning all the feeder fish were dead and there were three more dead parakeets. Somehow that's mine and Dan's fault. I didn't know any of this when I got to work.

I got there a little early and found Dan outside smoking a cigarette. My greeting from him was, "Hi Steph, come take a walk with me." So I followed him around the back of the building where he warned me of what was coming. Said Roe texted him to say that Mike was on a rampage because of the parakeets and feeder fish. So, Dan who had previously told me that he had a job interview this morning, said that if Mike flew off the handle with him, he was going to fly off the handle right back and then walk out. (His interview went well this morning. He got the job.)

We went inside, and Dan found out that he'd suddenly got his hours cut. He was supposed to close Thursday with me, and now he's not. He's off. After a little while, he asked Mike what was up. Mike said, "Let's go get Steph."

A half hour later, Dan and I were finished being lectured about how the birds didn't get fed and how we should have done a second water change on the feeders. Mind you, it could have been a lot worse. I've seen the way Mike treats Dan (and Keelan, whom he's once reduced to tears), and he doesn't scream and flip out like that with me. Ever. I like to think I intimidate him, but I'm really not sure. I think he's just not sure yet if I'll just stand there and take it or if I'll clash heads with him. (Definitely the latter, by the way.)

Now, I didn't want to start throwing accusations around (because I know Mike wouldn't listen anyways) but firstly, that thing about the birds not being fed is bullshit. I watched Dan feed the parakeets yesterday, but apparently Erin (second in command to Mike) told him there was no food in their bowls this morning when she opened.

My only conclusion here is that Erin lied, and I have no idea why. To cover her own ass, maybe, because Mike freaks out on her too. It's still bullshit though, and it pissed me off more than a little that she acted like it was no big thing.

And secondly to this stupid didn't-feed-the-birds accusation, I was sooooo fucking tempted to let Mike in on the fact that Erin forgets to feed ALL the animals several times per week. I can't even count how many times I've come in at noon and found all the dishes and water bottles empty, and you can't tell me that four mice ate a huge bowl of food and drank 16 ounces of water in three hours. And never mind the dead, emaciated bearded dragon I pulled out of one of the breeder tanks last week. Or the rat that has a massive tumor that no one is doing anything about.

Whatever. I think that store would go out of business without so much fucking drama going on all the time.

So a little while later, Dan put in his two weeks notice, further pissed off Mike, and apparently everyone else except me. I mean, I'm a little bummed out that he's leaving because he's my favorite person there, but I don't blame him one bit for wanting the hell out of there, considering the way he's treated.

Erin and Roe didn't talk to him at all the rest of the day. Erin especially would come over to where Dan and I were clipping cat nails or stacking dog food and talk to me but very pointedly say nothing to him. So Dan was pissed off for their curtness, and I was pissed off for being used as a mechanism for pissing Dan off.

And for reasons unknown, Mike was joking around with me the rest of the day. What the hell? You bitch at me then want to make jokes? WTF?

Everything got a lot better after Mike left, and once again, it was just me and Dan. But fuck... Keelan's leaving at the end of the month, and Dan is leaving in two weeks. Yeah, I'll get promoted because of this (but probably won't get a raise 'cause Mike's the cheapest man alive). Plus, Keelan and Dan are the only two people that I consider 'friends' at that damn store.

I need a new job. *sigh*

life is complicated right now

2009-08-01T01:05:00.000-04:00

I've gone back and forth on blogging this for awhile now, but what the hell? If nothing else, it might help get some of it off my chest.

See, there's this guy I've been talking to lately. His name's John. I met him online a few months ago. We emailed each other a little bit, then just recently, we started talking on AIM. And, for lack of a better way of putting it, we get along really, really well. Those of you that talk to me on instant messenger probably know that long conversations with me usually don't happen on that particular medium. Occasionally, yes. Not often.

Well, John and I have talked every night for the last week, usually averaging about 5-8 hours per chat. Like, constant chat. Not one of those talk-for-a-little-while, do-other-stuff, then-talk-some-more kind of things.

Suffice it to say, I really like him. We both think that whatever it is we have has a lot of potential to be something more. Which brings me to my first hurdle...

He's been living in Midway. That's about an hour away from here. All things considered, that's not such a huge hurdle. Problem is, my car's still not fixed yet. The muffler's still falling off and something's really, really wrong with the front left tire. I don't want to risk driving out of town in case the wheel falls off and I end up stranded. Yes, it's that bad.

Hurdle number two: He doesn't have a license. I'd have to do the driving, which really isn't a problem after my car's fixed. But until it's fixed, we're pretty much stuck in limbo.

Then, massive hurdle number three, all hell broke loose today on his end. I'll spare you all the details, but let's say that the asshole they (John, his sister, and his mom) were staying with kicked them out for no really good reason. So now they literally have nowhere to stay for the time being.

Among their options, one of them is moving to a place near Punxsutawney (you know, Ground Hog Day?), which is about two hours away. FML.

However, as bummed out as that makes me, I still wanna try it. When I say I really like this guy, I mean it. A whole lot. Plus, there is a little good that's come out of all this. When I got home from work, he'd left me messages on AIM to tell me what had happened. Not long after that, he called. That phone call made me really happy, even considering the circumstances.

Not cool that our first phone conversation came with a disaster, but cool that our first phone conversation did indeed come.

So I'm bummed out, concerned, and giddy happy all in one. It's a very uncomfortable sort of feeling.

But yeah, that's where I'm at right now. Still not sure I want to post all this, but whatever. Post!

today is not a good day

2009-07-29T14:24:00.001-04:00

I have to get rid of the bunny. Allergy shots or not, I barely sleep at night anymore due to constant coughing and sneezing. There's nowhere in the house we can put her, and I don't feel like it's fair to her to stuff her in a cage outside somewhere. It's not what she's used to, and not what she deserves.

I just sent an email to the shelter I got her from, and although I offered to foster her until they find her a new home, it's just a matter of time.

:(

i hate hotmail and the whole male gender

2009-07-25T22:25:00.000-04:00

Hotmail closed my account last night, said I was a spammer. Not my MSN account, no. Not the one that doesn't matter. Instead, they close the one I use to submit writing. So, for as long as they keep it shut off (I've emailed them), I could be getting rejections and not know it. And don't even get me started on what if I should happen to get an acceptance while this nonsense is going on. I hate Hotmail.

I also hate anyone who happens to possess the Y chromosome right now. The ones I'm interested in are not interested in me, but the ones I have no interest in are all over me. Sometimes literally.

The minor irritation here is that the guy I've been talking to for awhile is apparently annoyed with me that I didn't call him last night before he went out. So now he's not talking to me. Gosh, sorry I waited so that I could actually give you my full attention. I won't make that mistake again. Meh.

The slightly bigger issue is that some guy licked my ear at work today. Sure, I bullshit with him when he comes in, but what the hell? He just walked up behind me and licked my ear. That's just... gross. I actually went and washed my ear afterwards. Grr.

And most annoyingly of all, Hans bought the movie 'A History of Violence' a couple months ago. Because he hasn't figured it out yet, he told me when he bought the movie, "I'm going to wait to watch it till you come back because I know you like Viggo Mortensen."

I told him to watch the damn movie.

Well, I got home from work today to find the following messages waiting for me:

Fyrsten says:
I dreamt that I was visiting you in the states, that was fun
Fyrsten says:
and I havent watched the viggo mortensen movie yet

I'm sick of the whole freakin' thing.

Do you know why so many people bitch about their horrible exes? (OK, some of them really are horrible), but it's also because stupid people have no clue when it comes to niceties and subtlety, so the whole 'let's just be friends' thing never works. The only way we can get you to leave us the hell alone is to tell you to fuck off and go die in a hole somewhere.

Gah!

old schooled

2009-07-23T00:11:00.002-04:00

As you all know, I've been learning to shoot pool for the last couple months, and yesterday after work, I talked Ralph into going down to the bar and playing a few games.

Now, what you need to know is that I'm not good at pool. I don't suck; I've passed that point, but I'm not exactly to 'good' just yet. Average, I guess, is a good word for where I'm at.

So we were at the bar, about halfway through our second game, when a coalition of older men walked through the door. These guys were all dressed to the nines, looking shockingly bad-ass, and they came striding through that door like the astronauts walking down the tunnel in Armageddon.

Truth to tell, it was a little intimidating.

But Ralph and I got back to our game, while each of the older men came back and wrote their names on the board to play. By an amazing stroke of luck, I won the game.

The first older gentleman racked the balls and I broke. As per my usual break, I moved 'em all around but didn't sink a one. So I stepped back to let the guy take his shot.

Now, mind you, when I say these gentlemen were 'old', I mean that the youngest of the bunch had to be around 80.

So this guy leaned way over the table to line up a shot and then thought better of it. It took him several attempts and many, many seconds to successfully get up from his leaning-over-the-table position.

He was that old.

But he lined up another shot and sank it without a problem. Not five minutes later, the game was over, and I'd lost without even getting a second attempt.

I got schooled by the little old man who couldn't even get up from a leaning over position. He literally ran the table on me while I did nothing but stand there and gawk at the shots he made. It was unbelievable.

Ralph and I hung around to watch them play, and every single one of them was as good as the guy I played. The best part about the whole thing was, even when we put our names up to get our asses handed to us again and again, it was a mostly good-natured ass-whooping.

The most heated the atmosphere got the entire night was just after Ralph lost his first game. He mumbled, "It's like a fucking retirement home in here all of a sudden."

The guy that beat me the first time heard this and said, "I'd kick your ass for that remark, but I'd probably break a hip."

I don't think I've ever had so much fun losing so miserably.

something sad to see

2009-07-19T00:50:00.002-04:00

Two girls came into the pet store today to get dog licenses, and it took me about five minutes of surreptitious glances to figure out why I recognized them. I graduated with the younger of the two, and while we didn't really talk much during high school, she and I used to be friends when I was little. I remember spending quite a few nights at her house, riding bikes, and enjoying the last vestiges of summer as only little kids can do.

What's depressing to note, and the reason I couldn't recognize either of them, is just how wretched they both look now. Stacy (the older sister) is missing most of her front teeth. Rotted out, it looked like. Track marks and easily identifiable scars clearly visible on her forearms and wrists. Nicole (my former classmate and friend) didn't look quite so bad, as long as you ignored the matted hair, the emaciation, and the gaunt, haunted look of her face.

It reminded me of a line from that Against Me! song. "No mother ever dreams that her daughter's gonna grow up to be a junkie."

Despite the sarcastic comment I made when they left the store, I couldn't help but feel incredibly sorry for both of them, and to wonder just how they ended up like that. Nicole wanted to be a veterinarian when we were little.

Sad, isn't it? We all have such big dreams when we're too young to understand anything of what could be headed in our direction, and it's pretty horrifying to see just how badly things can go wrong along the way.

not complaining!

2009-07-16T10:38:00.000-04:00

I just noticed that the last few posts on here were kind of whiny, so I figured I'd talk about something not irritating for once. A break from the monotony and all that. (It's just that the annoying stuff is more noteworthy than the fun stuff, especially when I'm still annoyed.)

But I digress... Had a hell of a good day yesterday. I didn't get to sleep in, much to my dismay, because I had to be at the doctor's office around nine-ish for an allergy shot. The good news is, this one actually seems to be working a little bit. I'm still a little congested, but the point is I can breathe without my nose whistling a tune.

Later on in the afternoon, I went to go see the new Harry Potter movie with Devin, Ralph, and Adam. Despite having a few complaints with a couple of the changes they made, I thought it was excellent. And apparently, I'm going to see it again on Saturday with Jonie.

After the movie, we came back here and played football, then frisbee, then we went swimming, played Marco Polo (again without the Marco/Polo part), then we went to CGs, I became a member (so I can go down and practice playing pool whenever I want), Adam and I got drunk (Devin and Ralph both had to go to work the next day), we all played a few games of pool (I didn't win, but I didn't suck either), then we came back home, played Wii Sport, and Adam kicked all of our asses at tennis.

Then I kicked them out, 'cause it was 2:30 and I was falling asleep. Still, it was a really good day. I had fun. Now I just hope today is a little quieter, because I have a lot of work to get done. I'm dreadfully behind on submissions for Loose Yarns.

End.

yaaaaaaaaaaaaawn

2009-07-12T21:02:00.001-04:00

The party last night was massive bundles of fun. It really was. I got home from work at five-ish to people everywhere. (Funny how I don't mind that as much when I know it's going to happen.) Saw a bunch of people I haven't seen in years. One of them tried to strangle me--old grudge from my abrupt departure to Norway.

So after me and some friends got a few drinks in us, we played all manner of stupid games. Hillbilly golf, horseshoes, tackle football, and even Marco Polo (the hard version without the "Marco!" or "Polo!") There was music, dancing, fireworks, and general tomfoolery--all in all, a good party.

Now it starts to get iffy though. Stayed up till five in the morning, slept three hours, woke up, and went to work. Since I knew that was going to be a bitch, I wasn't too ruffled by the ordeal.

Then I came home to a house full of people again. Not the fun people from yesterday that I spent the day with, but most of the people that I don't really care to talk to or hang out with.

It's been five hours; they're still here. Music's going, little kids are in my pool, and I just wanna go to bed and sleep before I have to get up and go to work yet again tomorrow.

Seriously.

I spent a solid ten hours yesterday drinking, dancing, swimming, and having an unbelievably good time. Is that not enough for people? Am I unique in this respect--that after a night like that, I just want to be left the hell alone to recover in silence?

After party, my ass.

grr snarl bitch bitch

2009-07-08T21:52:00.001-04:00

Current Song: Hate My Life by Theory of a Deadman

[rant]

I fucking hate my job today. Most days I just hate it, but today I fucking hate it.

First off, I got to work today at 12:15, as scheduled. Today is Wednesday. Every Wednesday and Sunday, all the small animal and bird cages get cleaned. It's a major pain in the ass, but it needs done. Now, the person who works 10-6 is the one that's supposed to do the cleaning. That wasn't me today.

Well, my greeting from Roe this lovely Wednesday afternoon was, "Hey Steph... Sorry, but you got picked to do cleaning today."

OK, we were really busy today, like all day. I don't care that Roe didn't get a chance to do the cleaning. I don't even care that I had to do it. What I care about is the fact that I know who did the picking (not Mike--he's on vacation), and that just pisses me off.

To be fair though, Roe did help and it only took about two hours to get it all done. Roe's cool. I like Roe.

About an hour into the fun cleaning, Dan came back to show me next week's schedule. What do you know, I get shafted again! Part one, I have to work Sunday. I have to clean again. Part two, our shindig this Saturday is going to go on literally all night, and I'm not missing out on this. So, Sunday morning I get to go to work on zero sleep, and probably still drunk to boot. Don't care. I wasn't supposed to work this Sunday.

The only thing that will make this worthwhile is if Amy and Erin have to work together next Sunday. That means Amy will have to clean. Amy never cleans. Amy can do no wrong at that fucking store.

It won't happen, I'm sure. But I hope.

So the rest of the day passed with little incident, minus an amusing lady on the phone who asked me if she could put piranhas in her pond to eat her neighbor's cat. But then she realized that if said piranhas could eat the cat, they might stand a pretty good chance of eating her three-year-old son too, should the little tyke fall in, so that idea didn't quite work out.

Six o'clock rolled around and Roe went home, leaving me and Amy to close the store together. Number one, we got slammed with people wanting tarantulas, hamsters, fish, and snakes. Not fun when there are only two people working. And number two, and let me emphasize this: I fucking hate working with Amy!!!

You can't talk to her, because no matter what you say, she turns it into something about her. Plus, she bitches the whole goddamned time, about nothing. She bitches about having to close (because she never has to close), but if she didn't close on Wednesday, she'd have to clean, and to be sure, she'd bitch about that too.

Not only all that--those are minor irritations compared to what really pisses me off about her--while she's busy bitching about everything she can find to bitch about, should a customer come in and ask me a question, she jumps in to answer it before I can even open my mouth. Even if I manage to answer quickly enough to beat her to the punch, she still jumps in, basically rephrasing everything I just said.

So for the better part of two hours, I visualized what it would be like to feed her to the red tail boa.

[/rant]

Have a nice night, peeps.

a lucky shot and a shout to the locals

2009-07-08T00:09:00.004-04:00

Current Song: 'Misery Business' by Paramore

First off, I don't have any idea how many of you locals still read this. I know of one. If there are more, great. Anywho, my neighbor Spider (Dave) is throwing one hell of a shindig this Saturday. It's kind of a joint party between him and my dad, complete with a pig roast, lots of alcohol, music (supplied by me--so mostly good music), a bonfire, and everything else that goes along with a kickass brouhaha. So, if you're not doing anything around sixish, feel free to drop by. If you wanna bring a dish, great. If not, there'll still be plenty of food. Call or text me if you need directions, but the place is real easy to find.

With that out of the way, I've gotta share my good news. For the last few weeks, Ralph's been giving me pool lessons. I used to be pretty good (or so I thought) but now I really do suck. I've gotten better with Ralph's help though. I almost beat Devin earlier tonight, and then I did successfully beat Ralph at a game of nine ball.

Mind you, it was most definitely an accident. I was trying to sink the eight, but it bounced off the nine (unintentionally, I assure you) and knocked the nine in. I win, I win! Yay.

The drunk dude that had been hitting on me all night gave me a hug (awkward), and even the creepy guy that had been watching us play gave me a congratulatory smile. Or a 'you-just-got-lucky-bitch' smile. Either way.

Nevertheless, I did beat Ralph. So, I think I'll start challenging Ralph to nine ball from now on, and just keep practicing eight ball with Devin where I actually have a fighting chance to almost win.

Triumph!

rawr.

2009-07-05T22:55:00.000-04:00

Current Song: 'Cities on Flame with Rock and Roll' by Blue Oyster Cult

Love this song! ^^

So ~~sometimes~~ pretty much all the time lately, I really can't stand my dad's girlfriend.

The other night (the cold, cold night) Ralph, Devin, and myself went swimming. We played with balloons while we did this, and because I haven't been home hardly at all since then, I didn't clean them up. They ended up in the pool and the filter basket from the wind and whatnot.

Yeah, I fucked up. If they actually make their way into the filter, bad things can happen. I admit that, no problem. Dad called me out on that one, which is fine. But while dad's telling me (calmly, I might add), Lisa's chiming in, half-screaming about how I can't be trusted and so on and so forth.

And this is a card I've not wanted to pull with her, because I know what kind of position it puts my dad in, but, well, this is the time of the month where I'm not going to be especially soft-spoken about anything.

So I said, also calmly, "Listen Lisa, I understand what could happen if the balloons get in the filter, and I'll gladly admit that I should've cleaned them up that very night. But this is something I want to make very clear to your right now. You're my dad's girlfriend. That's all. In no way does that constitute you being in a position of authority over me, so this whole lecture, 'you-can't-be-trusted' thing needs to come to stop right fuckin' now."

She gave me one of those 'oh-no-you-didn't!' looks and said to dad, "Are you going to let her talk to me like that?"

Dad shrugged his shoulders and said, "She's right."

Boo yah, biatch!

She's been out of town for a week, and I've gotta say, this has been one of the better weeks I've had since I've been home. No Lisa showing up unannounced, no Lisa getting drunk and crying like a baby over stupid shit, and best of all, no Lisa calling 37 times each hour.

'Course she's back now. Joy.

ain't got a good title for this one

2009-07-04T01:25:00.002-04:00

Ha! I typed the title to this post, then stupidly hit enter, so I just published...nothing, really. Not sure why that amuses me so much, but hey, it does.

I'm in a pretty good mood, though I can't figure out why. Lots of little mildly pleasant things all added together, I guess. Went swimming in the cold, cold water a few hours ago with Ralph and Devin. And when I say 'cold, cold', I mean not only was the water frigid enough to make my legs and feet go numb, but the air was cold enough that I could see my breath. Still a good time though.

They're trying to get me to play WoW and that's just not working out for them. Games don't really excite me much anymore. Except, like, Guitar Hero, and on the rare day, Harvest Moon. I don't even think I could play a Final Fantasy game from start to finish now if I tried. I think I'd get bored. Le sigh.

So my stupid rabbit needs her nails cut and she's decided that I'm not allowed to pick her up anymore. And stupid Trouble Duck is just a pain in my ass. Still want a bearded dragon though, but dad's still scared of them and thinks I'd let the thing run around the house. (Have you ever smelled bearded dragon poop? Yeah, that's just what I want to get on my carpet.)

We had a cookout at work today, which was cool. In fact, it was made even cooler by the fact that I didn't work today, so I could go in and just stand around. No asking customers if they need any help or answering the phone to tell people what time we close. It was wonderful!

And apparently, we're all going to pick a day and go get something pierced. Not sure how I got roped into that one, but whatever. I've been wanting my eyebrow pierced for like...six years. That makes me unique because everyone except Dan plans to get their nose pierced. (Dan wants his nipples pierced. *cringe*)

I just wonder what Mike's going to say about it. No one's asked him if he cares if we get facial piercings, though I do remember something in the employee handbook about only having earrings showing. But that also says no visible tattoos too, and both Erin and Roe have those.

Ah well. I guess that's the end of tonight's babble. Oh, happy 4th, fellow yanks!

boy, am i glad i'm not a duck...

2009-06-28T23:52:00.002-04:00

I found out why Trouble Duck keeps getting his ass kicked. He's a she. And they're not beating her up; they're raping her. I witnessed it today. Twice.

I took her down to the creek to swim, and she eagerly and immediately swam over to my other ducks. Kind of a stupid move on her part, but for the last couple of weeks, she hasn't really wanted my company. She's wanted theirs.

She got her wish in more ways than one.

Two of my big males (a pekin and a mallard) took turns grabbing her by the neck and climbing on. Needless to say, she didn't appreciate it. So after I chased them away, she stayed with me again. She wouldn't follow me back up to the house though. I didn't feel like chasing her, so I left her down by the creek. I figure she has to get used to it at some point, and I'm tired of babying her.

Well, about a half hour later, I went outside to check on her. I heard horrified quacking, saw rustling in the bushes at the back of the property, and then a few moments later, it got quiet and my big white male pekin came walking out all pleased with himself. Then the male mallard strolled into the bushes and the quacking resumed in earnest. They both came out a minute or two later, and she's beat up again. Not as badly, but they got her eye again.

She's back to following me everywhere. Their mating season lasts all summer, apparently. Poor Trouble Duck.

man, this is a lot of work!

2009-06-27T23:35:00.000-04:00

Drama at work today. Drama at work tomorrow. It took me a few months to become 'friends' with the people I work with (in that we now hang out outside of work), and I kind of wish I hadn't bothered. Drama everywhere because everyone there just has to talk about everyone else behind their backs. Blaaaaaaah.

Anyways, Loose Yarns is going strong. This is the third day I've been taking submissions, and I've already gotten 24 of them. (Rejected twelve, accepted two, still considering the other ten.) I wanted to do this all by myself, but considering the volume of submissions, I may just have to take on an editorial staff.

Any volunteers? Hehe.

I've already gotten a bitchy email from one such submitter though. See, I want to send a few lines of feedback about the stories I'm rejecting. I'm rather familiar with form rejections myself (having gotten ... ohhh... fifty or more), and while they're convenient for the editor, they don't help the author any.

In response to one story, I replied thus:

I felt the writing was a little lazy--you used too many adverbs where you could have, with a little extra thought, illustrated them better with stronger action verbs, similes, or different methods of description. Also, I found the story to be a little to pat and predictable. The idea that the MC's grandma's dog shows up all of a sudden for unknown reasons is a good one, but then it turned out to be a little too Lassie-esque for my liking. And the reincarnation of Prince at the end was a little over the top, too pat so to speak.

He didn't care for my opinion, so he sent me this:

As an editor, there was no constructive purpose in your reply. I found your comments pompous and insulting, A form reply would have been enough.

After reading this, I added an extra line to my submissions guidelines.

Also, please note that our feedback on rejections will be constructive criticism. We will never seek to insult you or your writing; we'll simply tell you the reasons it didn't work for us. If you feel you are unable to receive such feedback without sending us whiny emails in return, please refrain from submitting.

And I also sent this in the author in question:

As an editor, you should understand the purpose of constructive criticism. Form rejections don't help the author improve their writing, as you well know. You're free to ignore my comments on your story if you feel they're in the wrong. Either way, I wish you the best of luck with your writing.

Some people are just so damn touchy. I see it all the time on WF.com. They post a story for critique, and then bitch at everyone who dares say the piece is anything less than perfect.

Still though, I'm enjoying this quite a bit. I'm sure months down the line I may be whining about all the work, but right now it's freaking awesome, even if I've only accepted one story and one poem. Each of them are so good, they've made reading the myriad average and poor submissions worthwhile.

it's aliiiiiiiiive!

2009-06-25T22:09:00.003-04:00

I've spent the last year or so working with the wonderful staff at Oddville to produce a literary e-zine from scratch. We advertised, we accepted submissions, we rejected them too, and we finally took everything we liked and turned it into a finished product. I think it's a really awesome process.

So awesome, in fact, that I recently decided to start my own. Call it a power-trip if you will, but I wanted to be in control of what stories were published. At Oddville, because everyone has their own likes and dislikes, we've rejected stories I've adored and we've accepted stories I've thought were atrocious. That's just the way it goes, and I'm sure each and every staff member at Oddville can say the same thing.

Now, having stumbled through HTML/CSS, I bought a domain, bought hosting, and created my very own (and very first website). Better than that, Duotrope finally accepted my listing, and I'm not getting submissions. (In fact, I just got another one sometime in the middle of typing the previous paragraph!)

So, ladies and gents, feast your eyes on my cool, new literary magazine Loose Yarns!

Wii Fit kicked my ass

2009-06-24T01:25:00.002-04:00

It's fun, it's insulting, and it kicked my ass. First you set it up, enter your birth date and your height. Then it weighs you and calculates your BMI. Then, if you're overweight, it makes your Mii (virtual representation of you) fat. (My Mii is fat. I found that more amusing than insulting though.) Then it tells you your 'Wii Fit age' or something like that. Apparently I'm 35. That was a little insulting. Still funny though.

After all that, you can start playing around. I figured I'd just do them in order, so I did yoga and strength training. I have really poor balance on my right foot ever since I broke that ankle, and my virtual personal trainer told me that balance is not my forte. I did pretty good on the yoga though, except for the tree pose.

Again with that damn right leg. I didn't do all that much better with my left leg either though. But I didn't fall over! I can say that much, at least!

So then strength training. I did really good (as in, perfect or close to it) on all of those except one.

Have I mentioned I can't do push-ups? Yeah. I can't.

See, you get scores out of 100 for your performance. Lunges, jackknifes, abdominal twists--I got 100s on each of those. Push-ups... 65, baby! What's worse is that I was even doing girly push-ups, and I still sucked. 'You could have done a little better on that one!' my virtual trainer said. *sigh*

I'm SO going to feel this tomorrow...

i fucking hate ducks!

2009-06-21T01:04:00.000-04:00

So... a couple days ago, Trouble Duck got his ass kicked. Badly. See, I let him out in the morning and then left (for adventure described in the previous post). When I got home, dad told me that Trouble had been playing with the other ducks all day. I didn't see him when I looked out the window though, so I went outside to check.

When I found him, he was covered in blood, and one of the other ducks was sitting on top of him, pecking at his face.

In return, I pegged the attacking duck in the face with a sizable rock, thereby rescuing my Trouble Duck. He was missing most of the feathers on his back and head, and one eye is (I believe) permanently damaged. It's swollen completely shut and covered with disgusting looking puss.

He's been in quarantine for the last couple of days, but today, I finally let him go outside again. This time, he was confined to his pen though.

That didn't stop the sadistic ducks from hell, however. I don't know how they did it--they can't fly--but when I went out to get Trouble Duck this evening, his head was all bloody again.

If those little fuckers keep this shit up, they're going to become dinner.

and i used to be afraid of needles... ha!

2009-06-18T17:24:00.000-04:00

Well, it's only five o'clock, but already my day has been eventful. Not in a good way either. See, I had a doctor's appointment for one o'clock for a skin-allergen test. Basically, they wanted to inject different allergens under my skin to see how much of a reaction there'd be, so they could decide how to treat me.

The doctor's office was a half hour away in a place called Sharon, but I left an hour early because I knew I'd get lost. I always get lost when I drive some place new, so I plan for it.

I didn't plan enough.

For once, I didn't actually get 'lost'. I followed the directions my dad gave me and found the place with relative ease. It just happened to be the wrong place. So I went inside and asked how to get to Dr. Wassil's office.

No one had a clue, but that was OK because I still had a half hour to make it. So, the nice woman behind the desk googled Dr. Wassil for me, found the address, and then mapquested it. Then she sent me on my merry way.

A half hour later, I was lost in suburbia hell. Her directions took me to Dr. Wassil's HOUSE, for Christ's sake. Not his office--his fucking house! I was lost in suburbia hell for about 45 minutes because every road that led back to the highway was a one way street. During this time, I dubbed "Do Not Enter" signs "Fuck You" signs.

Around 1:30, I managed to break a few laws and get back on the highway. I was going home. The hell with that crap.

Halfway home, dad called. Apparently, Dr. Wassil's office had called him at home and asked where I was. So he gave me the number and I got new directions. Sure, I was an hour late by the time I made it there, but the point is I did indeed make it.

Then I spent the next two hours having about fifty needles filled with highly concentrated itchiness shoved into both my upper arms. Fittingly enough, the wall opposite where I sat had a sketch of a hand clutching something that looked like a railing. If there'd been a railing nearby, I would have been clutching it. As I've said I don't know how many times now, I don't do itchy.

One of the nurses kept walking in and examining the massive hives on my arms and saying, "Those look good. Very, very good."

Seriously, what the hell? Good? I think not.

Anyways, it turns out -- and this is just so wonderful -- I'm extremely, massively, hugely allergic to ... drumroll please ... rabbits, birds, grass, and dust.

Pop quiz, which two animals sleep in my room? Bingo!

I'm also very allergic (but not extremely, massively, hugely allergic) to mold, cats, trees, and weeds. In fact, about the only things I'm not allergic to are dogs and cotton. Thank god for small miracles, right? Pssht.

Now, here's the icing on the cake, after today's wonderful visit to the allergist, I have another doctor's appointment tomorrow. With the female doctor. I get to have my cervix prodded.

This is just a great week.

they're after me lucky charms!

2009-06-13T21:41:00.001-04:00

Another good day to put a smile on my face. Gorgeous guys with long hair can strike up a conversation with me any day and it'll then be a good day. Not only that, but this particular gorgeous guy actually has similar interests! And so far doesn't find me completely retarded! Lol.

Not only that, but Trouble and I went swimming again today, only this time in the creek. He's not entirely comfortable with that yet, but that just means more practice is necessary. Truth to tell, I'm starting to get worried that he won't want to join the rest of my ducks when the time comes but will instead prefer to continue following me everywhere. Not that I don't find that adorable, but it's kind of a pain in the butt to have to have spent an obscene amount of money on what basically amounts to a bag of corn waste products to use as bedding for my rabbit, and then still have to use pine (which I'm quite allergic to) for the duck. Why? Because the duck is a hell of a lot messier than the rabbit and I don't want to waste the hideously expensive corn cob.

So I'm back to not being able to breathe again, but hey, the duck's happy.

Anyways, in other freaking good news, the Pittsburgh Penguins won the Stanley Cup this year! Woohoo! It would figure that I'd wait until the last two games of the final to realize just how awesome hockey actually is. Now I have to wait till next season to really enjoy it.

Last but not least, I was off today, which means it goes against the laws of physics for any type of weather except rain. But that's okay because I happened to glance out the window a couple hours ago and saw sunlight. With the rain! So, I dashed outside, camera in hand, and saw one of the most amazing rainbows I've ever seen.

See, looky!

Preeeeeeetty.

swimming with the fishes

2009-06-12T02:08:00.002-04:00

Well, the duck actually. About an hour ago, I had the bright idea to go for a late-night swim. So, I took the duck outside with me 'cause otherwise, he'd panic. Then, I thought, "Well, why not let the duck enjoy himself as well?"

Oh my gosh, it was so much fun! Just like when he follows me around the yard, he followed me around the pool too. And let me tell you, he did NOT like it when I went underwater.

I think Trouble and I are going to have to do more swimming in the future. =D

could complain but who's listening?

2009-06-10T00:40:00.000-04:00

So the last couple of days have been pretty crappy. It doesn't really matter why; shit happens. But today was a pretty kick ass day, so I'm happy.

Woke up and did the usual morning stuff. Feed the animals, take the duck outside, clean the rabbit's litter box, et cetera, et cetera. Then the Comcast guy came and we now have cable and internet that hopefully doesn't have a hissy fit every time the wind blows a little harder than normal. A few people came over to swim, whatever. There's always people here.

However, among those people was my cousin Kevin, who's been in a drug rehab facility for a couple of weeks, and it was really great to talk to him again. He's had some problems since his dad died, but he's a good dude. We spent the afternoon in the pool just talking. It was nice.

Then, Ralph and Devin came over later on and we went to the club. (Cultural German Society--a racist club in a heavily black neighborhood. Tons o' fun.) There, we ran into my buddy Eric and his girlfriend Misty. Both really awesome people. So, we hung out at the club for a few hours--I would love to walk around inside Eric's head for an hour or so. I can't imagine anything more entertaining, honestly. We had an entire conversation about the pulley system that makes blinds turn to block out the sun.

Plus, I found out that Eric's in a band, so I'm gonna go see them in Ohio this Saturday, hopefully.

And not only that, but the Pens won, so I'll be back at the club Friday night to watch the next game.

Oh oh oh! And I just got new music from Leigh, and I freaking love it!

Good day, good day... =D

tattoo pics be forthcoming

2009-06-07T19:55:00.003-04:00

Finally.

I only took two, but then, how many angles can you really shoot my back from? I loves my tattoo though. ^^

some bad news and a shameless plug

2009-06-06T21:48:00.002-04:00

My tattoo's itchy. Very, very itchy. And it's probably a really good thing that I can't reach it to scratch the damn thing, or I'd probably damage it. Me and itchy just don't go well together. I'd rather have an ouchie than an itchy.

I was going to take a few pictures of it and post them, but my batteries went dead before the ten seconds on the timed picture-taker thingy were up. One of these days though...

Anyways, that's not the bad news. The bad news is that one of my two newly acquired ducks is dead. Something attacked it a little over a week ago, I don't know what, and the poor little ducky couldn't stand up without falling over and absolutely refused to stay still when I placed it in a comfortable position rather than on its back kicking it's legs pitifully. It held on for a few days after I made a sling to help it stand, but it died Wednesday night.

If that's not sad enough, the remaining duck is losing his mind with loneliness. I started bringing them in at night, since the other one got attacked, and now it's to the point where if I'm not around -- inside or outside -- the duck screams his little head off. On top of that, he has a cold, and his near constant anxiety probably isn't helping his fever.

So he follows me around everywhere, cries when I'm not around, and poops so much that I have to clean his nighttime bin every morning. I've named him Trouble.

On to my shameless plug, a friend of mine has gotten together a small band, and they recorded a song called 'Fireman'. I really like it, and I'm not just saying that because I know the guy. I just love acoustic stuff like this. Check it out:

Fireman.

(Note: Not that any of you care, but the aforementioned friend is the one playing the guitar, the harmonica, and singing.)

birthdays are for embarrassing your friends

2009-06-03T12:28:00.000-04:00

But it's all in good fun. Heh.

So my birthday was yesterday. Probably the best birthday I've had since I was a little kid.

Jonie was off Monday night, so I decided we could go out then even though I had to go to work on Tuesday (my actual birthday). We went to the only bar that I really enjoy going to because it's usually not very crowded, and Kathy, the lady that owns it, is a really cool lady. So me, Jonie, Devin, Ralph, and Trish went to the Burgh Bar in West Pittsburgh. I didn't want to get drunk--all I wanted to do was have a few beers, get a nice buzz going, and have a good time.

And I did that. However, at midnight, Ralph stood up and shouted, "It's twelve o'clock! It's officially her birthday now!"

And then the shots started coming. Have I mentioned that I've never drunk tequila before? Well, some ten shots later, I was seeing triple of everything. I also decided that that would be an excellent time to play pool. Needless to say, I lost, but the fact that I managed to sink some of the balls is a huge accomplishment, in my opinion.

We went home at two and I tried to sober up to no avail, so I went to bed at three. I did have the presence of mind to feed my rabbit before I went to bed though. Even if it was six hours late.

I went to work the next day hungover and miserable. On top of that, yesterday was by far the worst day I've ever had at work, and not just because of the hangover.

Number one, my boss was in a pissy mood because we screwed something up while he was on vacation. So me and Dan got bitched at. Numerous times. Just me and Dan, too, and we're not the only ones that screwed up. Hell, I'm the one that found out what we'd done and therefore prevented more mistakes. Didn't matter to Mike though. Bitch bitch bitch.

Number two, a local school had their carnival yesterday, wherein the kids could win a coupon for a free gold fish at Critter Corner. So ninety some kids came to the store to get fish. I can't stand it when there are large groups of little kids in the pet store. They all wanted to hold everything in the store, so when I wasn't getting goldfish, I was chasing down hamsters, mice, and guinea pigs that they held and subsequently let go of.

But, after the eight hours from hell were over with, me, Ralph, Devin, and Trish went to The Lube for wing night. Once again, Ralph embarrassed me by telling someone it was my birthday, so a chorus of waiters and waitresses sang to me. Then, after we finished and paid our bill, Ralph (unbeknownst to me) left a note on his receipt for our waiter. I still don't know what it said, but while we were standing outside for the smokers to have their after-meal cigarettes, our waiter came out and handed me a piece of paper with his phone number on it.

Up to that point, I'd been full-sure he was gay, so that was a surprise in more ways than one.

So, fun as it was, the birthday and the embarrassment are over. Now there's something worth celebrating!

Peace out, homies.

it definitely didn't feel like sunburn

2009-05-31T22:29:00.003-04:00

Not at all. What it felt like was that someone was taking the point of a knife and dragging it across my skin--not cutting it, but ripping and tearing. Two of the three needles he used felt like that. The other needle he used pretty much felt like sunburn, but unfortunately, the painful needles were the one he used most. He said one of the painful ones was better at dispensing ink. I'm guessing that was the one that was like a quarter of an inch wide.

My first words when he started were, "Jesus Christ that fuckin' hurts."

But I didn't move at all, and I'm proud of myself for that. When I stepped outside for a moment after the outline was finished, apparently Johnny (the tattoo artist) turned to Lisa and asked, "Does she have any other tattoos?" When Lisa said that I didn't, he said, "I'm surprised. She's doing good."

So I didn't move, but I did clench the back of that chair for all I was worth. And the insides of both my top and bottom lips have teeth marks in them.

Whoever said that it would go numb after a few minutes is a damn liar, too. It took about an hour and I felt every second of it. Apparently the back's a tough place to get a tattoo, but then, I already figured that.

Anyways though, I really like the way it looks. I don't see myself getting any others in the future, but as the sign on Johnny's door said, "Welcome to your new addiction."

I'll post pictures after it stops bleeding and heals a little bit.

to break away from the uninteresting post...

2009-05-30T22:43:00.007-04:00

...and to follow it up with one that's likely just as uninteresting, tomorrow at 5:30 I'm getting my tattoo.

I'm nervous. I know it's going to hurt. A lot. Especially 'cause the place I'm getting it isn't a very fleshy place. Ouchie! On the other hand, I know I have a pretty high tolerance for pain, and I'm reasonably sure I can deal with it. But at the same time... ouchie!

I'm not going to back out or anything, because I really do want this tattoo. But... ouchie!

Lol, I'll stop talking in circles now.

*EDIT: Oh yeah! Here's the tattoo I'm getting, if anyone cares.

introspection

2009-05-29T22:36:00.004-04:00

Note: This will probably not be interesting to any of you.

In response to Allison's latest blog about all manner of things from teen sex to her views on that and on her life in general, it got me to thinking. As she just observed, she and I are about as close to opposites on certain subjects as two people can get. And yet she's still one of my very best friends.

To sum it up, she's a very conservative person (and unlike most conservatives, she actually practices what she preaches), whereas as I consider myself to be more liberal on most subjects.

So. Teen sex. In Allison's post, she linked to an article claiming that 'oral sex is the new goodnight kiss' and how there are many teens who are sexually active from, like, age 12. She and I agree on this point: That's friggin' retarded. No question about it. No one is mature enough at that age to make an informed decision on whether or not to have sex. No one.

With the both of us being old enough to make our own choices, where we differ is on our morals towards sex in general. She's in the class of old-school romantics who choose to wait for marriage. It works for her and I completely respect her for it.

I, on the other hand, am not. Most of you know that I lived with Hans for two years and there still isn't a ring on my finger, nor will there ever be. Suffice to say, I'm not a virgin. I wasn't a virgin before Hans. (I WAS a virgin at age 12, for cryin' out loud.)

The reason I chose not to wait for marriage firstly because I don't believe in marriage. I do believe in monogamy and would never, ever cheat on my significant other, but my morals are enough to keep me from straying without a legal contract or a promise to a god I don't believe in.

I'm the kind of person that does a lot of ~~stupid~~ questionable things just for the experience of doing them. I flew halfway around the world on a whim because I knew it would be a good experience. It was, and while it didn't work out, I haven't for one second regretted my decision. Around Christmas time, I dated a chick. I'm not bi-sexual so that didn't work out either. But it was an experience, and I don't regret that either. I learn other languages (sometimes the hard way), I work jobs I know I'll hate, and if I'm at a restaurant or a grocery store and I don't know what something is just by looking at it, I try it. It's just the way I am.

I'll try not to be too explicit here, but I carry the same attitude towards sex. I wanted to try it; I wanted to try all aspects of it. And I have. Well, most aspects of it. There are things even I don't want to try. Waterworks, for example. (If you don't know what that is, google it. Actually, don't. You don't want to know what that is.)

I think it all boils down to reading, actually. When I was little, my grandma, a voracious reader herself, started me reading at an early age. I was the only kid in my kindergarten class who could already read. And that love of books is still with me today, but when I look at my grandma, who's nearing her final years here, I don't want to end up the way she did.

Not that she hasn't lived a full, satisfying life, but what I really don't want is to be one of those people who reads about knights charging into battle and has never ridden a horse. I don't want to live vicariously.

More examples:

I once had to research yoga for a story I was writing. After an hour and a half of reading and watching videos, I couldn't resist the impulse to try it. It just looked too cool.

Everyone talks about how it feels to get a tattoo, how it's painful but addictive. I'm getting one on Sunday. I'm curious. (Note: This isn't an impulsive decision. I've thought about it for the last year or so.)

I've also really wanted to learn the guitar. I'm certain that I'll have little or no talent for it, but if my mom decides to give me money for my birthday, I'm going to buy an acoustic guitar. In high school, I learned the clarinet, the saxophone, the flute, the piano, the bassoon, and almost the oboe. Curiosity, all of them.

A few days ago, I decided I wanted to take sword fighting lessons. I was never allowed to take karate as a kid, but if I can find a sword fighting class, that will more than make up for the disappointment.

I'm just curious. About everything. And if that leads to me making a few bad decisions along the way, so be it. I like to think I'm intelligent enough that I won't do anything completely detrimental to me or my loved ones. And if I ever do, I know I'm responsible enough to deal with the consequences.

To end this very long post with an old man's words of wisdom, my grandpa once told me, "In order to be old and wise, you must first be young and stupid."

After all, what is wisdom without the experience to back it up?

don't get mad...

2009-05-28T10:25:00.000-04:00

Yesterday at work, a feeder mouse bit me. I was trying to pick it up and move it from one tank to another, so I could clean the old tank, and the little bastard locked on to my pinky finger. And when I say 'locked on', I mean it took several violent shakes of my hand to finally get it off. Blood squirted.

So then I caught the vicious little mouse before it could wreak any more havoc, and the bearded dragons got a tasty little treat that afternoon. I'm vindictive. =D

waiting for chicken

2009-05-26T22:42:00.002-04:00

I figured since I have an hour to wait for my dinner to be finished, why not post an update? Or, in other words, I couldn't think of anything better to do. For a rarity, these last few days have been more than a little eventful. I was off Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday of last week, during which time I would have been less exhausted if I'd gone to work. I had to bath the dog, wash the car, open the pool, clean the pool, mow the lawn, clean the house, do laundry, clean the pool again, do water changes in my four fish tanks, clean the rabbit's cage, clean my room, reorganize my bookshelf, and a whole list of other things that you stopped reading about already. Yes, I was that busy.

Then I went to work Saturday. Easy day at work. Boring, even. After I got home, I decided I'd earned a drink, especially since I had Sunday and Monday off too. So I made dinner and cracked open a bottle of wine. Halfway through dinner, (which was at about 10:30 PM), my neighbors came over with a box containing two baby ducks. The ensuing conversation still makes me shake my head.

Bill: "You have ducks out back, don't you? Do you want two more?"

Me: "Well, they're my dad's ducks. Have you talked to him?"

Bill: "Briefly, yeah. He said he'd think about it, but I can't take care of these ducks anymore."

Me: "OK, well I'll call him then, if you don't mind waiting around a minute."

Shanon (Bill's quasi-girlfriend): "I really don't have a clue about how to take care of ducks. Do ducks need water?"

Me: "..." *closes cell phone* "You know what? I will take those ducks. Thanks a lot."

So I have two baby ducks now, both of whom drank for a solid three hours, having never gotten any water before that. I figure the only reason they didn't die of dehydration was because they were kept outside and there's been dew on the grass at night and in the mornings.

Anyways, after getting the ducks settled in for the night, I returned to my cold dinner and my wine. Two hours, and only another three glasses of wine later, I didn't feel very good. I'll spare you the details of that disaster, but suffice to say, I now have a black eye that I don't remember getting (but if I had to guess I'd say it came from my olympic dive for the garbage can when I knew I wasn't going to make it to the bathroom).

I have to admit though, I was glad to have Lisa around that night.

Sunday, I woke up a little nauseated, but otherwise fine. There were a bunch of teenagers at my house (because Lisa's son's birthday was today and they had a party). I didn't want to deal with them so I left. That night, a few friends asked me if I wanted to go to the bar with them. "Sure," I said. "But I'm not drinking." Had a good time nevertheless though. Injured my finger playing pool, but in the process, I made a really good shot.

Monday, I had a house full of the same teenagers. They all slept over, so I couldn't get through my living room when I got home from the bar at 2, and then they stayed all day again. So, again, I left. Didn't go anywhere interesting though. When I came home, they were all gone, so hey.

The upside to all this business is that I have a tan for the first time in three years. Woohoo! I'm not pasty white anymore! *dances*

Well... my chicken's not done yet, but my fingers have run out of steam. 'Night!

to be in sync

2009-05-20T11:30:00.001-04:00

My dad just bought a 50-inch flat screen TV. He paid like a thousand dollars for it. He was ripped off.

Last night, I noticed that our new, fancy TV has one very minor flaw (which of course I consider crucial). The audio and the video are not perfectly in sync. The audio is just a hair slower than the video. How did I find this out?

I tried playing Guitar Hero. Mind you, it had been a couple of weeks since I've played. So, when I started it and got booed off the stage half way through Pat Benatar's Hit Me With Your Best Shot (just about the easiest song ever for you non-addicts), I thought, 'WTF, mate?'

So I tried again and noticed that I was behind all the notes, and that to actually hit them, I had to strum before the down beat. Didn't get booed off that time, but didn't do especially well. (After all, deliberately playing ahead of the beat is just weird.) I tried changing the batteries in the wii remote, tried connecting the wii directly to the TV, instead of through the VCR, but still nothing. It still wasn't in sync.

And then, to further prove that I was right about the TV being fucked up, and not the wii or my playing, I played Lay Down by Priestess, which is a song I don't screw up. I've played it a hundred times because I love it. And what happened? Well, I didn't get booed off, but I only scored 150,000 points or so.

Then, I muted the sound on the TV and played again. Well, what do you know? 230,000 points. It's not me. It's the TV.

Now how do I tell dad that his precious TV is flawed?

bittersweet victory

2009-05-16T20:17:00.004-04:00

Eurovision 2009 was today. I specifically requested today off work so I could spend a glorious three hours in front of the computer watching it.

I don't know why I thought it would be that simple. My internet sucks too much. Verizon DSL -- you suck. Bastards. It couldn't handle the live streaming, so it would freeze every few seconds. Not fun to watch a song contest like that. Duh.

So I gave up after a small fight. It's just Eurovision, right? I comforted myself by downloading the CDs.

A few hours later, I decided to check the website and see who won. The website was down. Figures. So I went to VG.no, a Norwegian newspaper, and what did I find? A big, fat picture of the Norwegian competitor dancing on a table after he'd won. Norway fucking won, and I didn't get to watch it.

Sure, I checked YouTube after that, and found the performance, but goddammit, it's not the same! Norway -- the place I lived for two years, devotedly watching Eurovision every spring -- won the whole fucking thing. And I only found out after the fact.

[insert string of curse words here]

Anyways... Gratulerer Norge! Here's the performance from YouTube:

i have a new toy!

2009-05-15T12:04:00.001-04:00

There's a 2008 Nissan Altima in my driveway right now. [insert giddy emoticon here] It's not actually our car though; it's just a loaner since my soon-to-be-car (my dad's 2000 Monte Carlo) is in the shop getting painted and repaired so that the exhaust doesn't threaten to fall off with each pothole, and the car doesn't bounce up and down when you coast or hit the brakes because of a bent rotor, and the power steering line doesn't make horrible noises, and whatever the hell else is wrong with it. I don't think they're fixing the gas gauge though, which sucks, but at least I've already found out (the hard way) just how many miles I can get off a full tank of gas. (By the way, 316 is as far as that baby will go until you find yourself sitting at a red light downtown, wondering what it feels like when a car runs out of gas, and then the car starts to sputter a little and refuses to go when the light turns green and you hit the accelerator. Good to know, huh?)

But anyways, yes, 2008 Nissan Altima. I love that car. Firstly, it doesn't have a key. You push a button to start it. That's kinda cool. And funnily enough, for all it's high-techness, it still doesn't have automatic lights like my Monte does.

Jonie and I took it for a little test drive last night to Ohio and back. Good god does it ever ride smoothly. The only problems are the fact that the breaks are a lot touchier than I'm used to, so I gave us whiplash a few times. (Jonie did the same thing when I let her drive back from Ohio, so it's not just me.) And it's inconvenient that when you're going 45, you feel like you're just crawling along, so if you don't pay attention to the speedometer, you could be going 60 and not know it. That's a speeding ticket waiting to happen.

It's one of those fast little cars that would be kickass with manual transmission. It does have a quasi version of manual transmission though. It allows you to switch out of automatic and do the shifting yourself, but you don't have to use the clutch to shift, and that's just weird.

Nevertheless, I found myself wishing for a little bit of ice, so I could do a few donuts in the mall parking lot.

I still like my Monte better, but this is a fun little diversion. A very fun little diversion. =D

rawr.

2009-05-12T11:46:00.002-04:00

So I look like Frankenstein's monster again, with one normal eye and one that's swollen and taking on a slightly purplish hue. Remember the last time I mentioned this? Allergic reaction to guinea pigs? Yeah, it happened again. Why do stupid high school kids have to come into my pet store and ask to hold the freakin' guinea pigs?!

I almost called off today, since even though I took every anti-histamine pill I have in this house (and I have quite a few), the swelling didn't go down all that much. The only reason I decided against calling off is because I have to close tonight, and if I call off, then that royally screws Dan over. Because then he'll have to close with Mike (the owner), which makes for a really awful night. With Mike there, you can't sit down, even when there's no one in the store, you can't step outside for a cigarette, you can't play with the animals, you can't actually do anything aside from stand at the counter.

I've only had to close with Mike once, and it's something I really, really hope I never have to do again.

So I'm going to work in ten minutes, just so I don't have to feel guilty about doing that to Dan.

In other news, however, I've found that my lunch break is an excellent time to work on that novel I started back in November. It's about the only time I get any writing done lately. Woohoo!

Peace out, homies.

to the rant!

2009-05-10T03:07:00.000-04:00

Note: For those of you that haven't read any of the Twilight series and you think you might plan to, there be spoilers ahead.

I've just finished the last book (sort of) of the Twilight series and I find myself at a bit of a loss. Was the end of this series a massive, unequivocal disappointment? Hells yes. Am I glad I read it regardless. Yes I am.

Mostly nonsensical hack-writer drivel to follow:

I believe that book four (Breaking Dawn, as it's called) is a very good example why new writers should not aspire to write a series right from the off. Stephanie Meyer very obviously fell in love with her characters and couldn't bring herself to kill them.

The irony in Breaking Dawn's monumental disappointment is that I don't hate it because one of my favorite characters died, or because something devastating happened to them, no. I hate it because nothing happened. There was all this great tension mounting. The Volturi (Italian vampire leaders) were all gathered together prepared to start a colossal battle with the Cullens (the good guys). It could have been epic (though perhaps I give Meyer too much credit for even thinking that). Instead, however, the bad guys changed their minds before the fight erupted, and then all that's left is an empty, sickening happily ever after.

What the hell?

Incredible tension, epic battle...no climax, the end. God dammit.

I honestly believe that if she hadn't managed to write three best-selling books before this, Breaking Dawn would not have been published. Ever. It doesn't deserve to be published. Her agent, her editor(s), her publisher--they suck. They sold the friggin' book--the substandard, poorly put-together, piece of shit that it is--because they knew that no matter what, she'd sell a million copies. Why? Because of the first three books. If I were her, I'd be pissed. Pissed at myself for writing something so disappointing, and pissed at everyone who told me it was a job well done. Fuckers.

End rant.

update

2009-05-05T11:41:00.002-04:00

So I'm sick of people being at my house all the time. That's really nothing new though, and I know it's only going to get worse when the weather warms up. Blah.

In other news, I finally beat Cult of Personality by Living Color on Guitar Hero 3 on expert. I've been stuck on that damn song for over a month. One by Metallica is the one I'm shooting for next but the solo at the end is ridiculous so it'll probably be awhile. Not that anyone but me cares, of course. :)

Also, hopelessly addicted to The Twlight Saga. *sigh*

good morning, good morning

2009-05-03T14:48:00.001-04:00

Has anyone else ever sneezed themselves awake? It's kinda freaky. I don't recommend it.

And in other news, Twilight is a rather good book. Overly hyped, yes, but still a good read.

yin and yang?

2009-04-26T20:53:00.002-04:00

My weekend has been...interesting, to say the least. Saturday was miserable. Today was awesome.

Let's start at the beginning. I went to work Saturday morning. (Off to a bad start already, see?) About fifteen minutes after I got there, my left eye got really itchy. Like, the kind of itchy you want to scratch with a wire brush. Since I didn't have a wire brush in my pocket that day, I just rubbed it with my finger.

And that's where I went wrong. Shortly thereafter, my left eye was red, watery, and swollen almost shut.

That's when I remembered that I'd just fed and watered the guinea pigs just before rubbing the hell out of my eye. (Note: I'm massively allergic to guinea pigs.) I'm a genius.

So I called my dad and had him bring me the last of the Benedryl. In the hour that it took for the Benedryl to work, customers were looking at me like I was Frankenstein's disfigured assistant, small children were crying and clutching at their parents, and everyone I worked with said "Jesus Christ your eye looks terrible" at least half a dozen times each.

Then the Benedryl kicked in, the swelling went down, and I was fine, if incredibly groggy.

Then, around four o'clock (some five hours later), I started breaking out in hives for no reason whatsoever. Seriously. The only thing I'd been doing in the hour before the hives arrived was fixing the air flow in some of the fish tanks. I cannot possibly be allergic to fish water.

So I took another double dose of Benedryl.

The last hour of worked passed, and because I was so drugged up on anti-histamines, I just wanted to crawl in the corner and sleep when I got home. But I came home to a raging party. The house was full of people, the music was loud, and there was no way in hell I could've even thought about sleeping, let alone managed to pull it off.

I spent the next four hours driving aimlessly around town, just to get out of the house, then I went over Devin's and watched South Park for two hours. Fortunately, everyone was gone when I got home.

Today, on the other hand, was wonderful. Dad and Lisa had another party, but I didn't have to work, I spent the day drinking beer in the sun, and I even got to swim in the creek with Bailey.

Now I'm sunburned, but I don't even care because this is the first taste of sunshine I've gotten in three years.

Huzzah!

And, on top of that, I still managed to be productive today too! I wrote 1000 words on the novel I started last November, and I managed to copy edit five stories for Oddville. Yay me!

this could maybe possibly be something wonderful

2009-04-24T11:37:00.000-04:00

Apparently, HBO is going to do a series based off George R. R. Martin's 'A Song of Ice and Fire.' Now I know what you're thinking, Martin's books are so full of sex and violence and political intrigue that there's no way a network could truly do them justice.

But this is HBO, people. The same network that did Sex and the City, back when it was taboo to have shows like that. If you look at things like The Wire, The Sopranos, and whatever the hell else HBO airs, you can clearly see that HBO really has no problem with...well, anything really. That said, unless the writers at HBO decide to do something retarded, they stand a very good chance of accurately following Martin's books.

Just think what would've happened if the Sci-Fi channel or Fox had gotten their hands on this. *shudder*

And for those of you reading thing going 'What the fuck is A Song of Ice and Fire?!', you need to check it out. Seriously. It might just be the best fantasy series of our generation. There characters are complex it's incredible, even the bad guys. You can't help but admire the fullness Martin's brought to them, and to the world he created.

I do have one question for those of you that know the series, the new book isn't out yet, is it? How the crap is HBO going to do this series if Martin keeps pushing back the release date?? And there's like one or two more to come after this one, right?

That's my biggest worry actually.

But anyways, this is big news. You can read more about it on Martin's 'Not a Blog'.

another issue of oddville

2009-04-22T00:35:00.001-04:00

(Shameless plug to follow..)

It may be a bit late in coming, but at long last, Issue 3 of The Oddville Press is out and available for download -- free!

As has been our goal from day one, this issue of Oddville features some very well-crafted fiction, poetry, and artwork. And the best part, it all has a slightly odd twinge to it, which makes it all the more wonderful to us Oddvillians.

Download Issue 3 of The Oddville Press HERE!

escapee

2009-04-20T01:28:00.001-04:00

Hey, this is my 500th post! How 'bout that?

Anyways, I decided I'd share the tarantula story first (since nothing of note has happened in the five days since my last post).

As mentioned, I work at a pet store. It's a small, locally owned little shop called Critter Corner. We don't sell dogs or cats, which doesn't stop at least half a dozen people from asking me that every day, but we do sell small animals like hamsters, rats, mice, guinea pigs, etc. And we sell reptiles and amphibians, and fish, birds, scorpions, and... you guessed it... tarantulas.

Have I mentioned that I hate spiders yet? Well, I do. There's just no reason for anything to have that many legs. Seriously.

Moving on, this story takes place about two months ago. We had three rosehair tarantulas for sale, each in their own little Critter Keeper thingamajig. Then one day, one of these tarantulas -- the biggest one, go figure -- turns up missing. And when I say it went missing, I don't mean that the lid fell off of its container and it escaped or it karate chopped its way out--no, it was just gone. The lid was secured; the container was still in one piece. The spider pulled a Casper and went through a solid wall.

So the six of us that work there spend the next three days scouring the store for this lost spider. Of course we don't find it. The store may be small, but it's got plenty of dark crevasses for creepy crawlers to hide.

On the third day of the missing spider, me and Dan were closing together. Everybody's gone, we're getting ready to leave. We put on our coats, I stick my hand into my pocket for my car keys, and my hand closes around something multi-legged and furry.

THE SPIDER WAS IN MY POCKET!!!

So I let out a blood-curdling scream, which Dan makes fun of me for to this day, and I throw my coat across the room. Well, Dan doesn't like spiders any more than I do, so we spend the next 15 minutes arguing over who was going to pick it up and put it back.

I lost.

*shudder*

the undead blog

2009-04-15T00:25:00.002-04:00

So I'm thinking about resurrecting this lifeless corner of the web. The question is, is anyone still around to read it?

I'll bring you all up to speed in this little snippet though. Since my last post, I've gotten a job at a pet store, I've gone on a few interesting and not so interesting dates, and I've become very much addicted to Guitar Hero.

Oh, and I've acquired a very temperamental bunny and three acrobatic hermit crabs. There was a hamster in there somewhere too, but it's dead because it prolapsed and I put it out of its misery.

That's about it. Adieu!

merry christmas to me!

2008-12-23T14:16:00.000-05:00

I just got a wonderful Christmas present from Anotherealm magazine: They wanna give me $25 for a story I wrote four years ago, which, incidentally, has been rejected five times now, so it just goes to show – keep shopping around and you’re bound to find a home for your work. (I can put lie to that by telling you all that my current rejection record for any one story is nine times, and I still haven’t found a home for that one.)

But anyways, I has a happy now. Just thought I’d let you all know. =D

Issue II - The Oddville Press

2008-12-17T22:19:00.003-05:00

That's right, boys and girls, it's here (finally!). Issue II of The Oddville Press has been released, is available for download (FREE), and is just reeking with awesomeness.

In Issue II, you can look forward to some really awesome short fiction, poetry, and artwork. There's an interesting take on human excrement in Connor McCann's Stealing Shit, a witty piece about bureaucracy by Stuart Marshall called John's Cockup, and a Hans Christian Andersen-esque piece about a little girl and a centipede in Exir Kamalabadi's Centipede.

But you know what makes this issue all the more awesome? Our very own Dylan C. G. Thomas has a story appearing in this issue (you all know him as 'Writer' in the realms of Blogger). And, I might add, his story is my favorite in this particular issue, so you should definitely have a look. Your life may not be complete otherwise, so get a-goin' and read Cattle Man's Folly.

Volume I, Issue II, The Oddville Press

crazy woman drivers!

2008-12-07T01:21:00.001-05:00

I have to share this one, I'm afraid. See, on the one hand it irritates the crap out of me, and on the other hand, I think it's hilarious.

This past Wednesday I went up to the DMV to have my driver's license renewed. I went into the photo room with my old license and photo card, handed it to the guy, and answered a handful of questions on a computer screen using a key pad. He took my picture and I sat in a chair to wait for the license to be ready.

While I sat there, a little old lady walked into the room, also holding a photo card in her hand. She gave it to the guy and then, after being prompted by him, handed over her old license as well.

Here's where the fun starts.

He tells her to answer the questions on the computer screen using the keypad. She ambles over to the other side of the desk, squints at the computer screen for about 20 seconds, and then groans helplessly. The man behind the desk taps the keypad and says "You wanna press 1 for English."

Little Old Lady picks up the keypad, holds it close to her face, then far away, then close again. She says, "Oh, dear."

I'm sitting in the chair watching as the DMV guy guides the blind old bat through each question and pushes the buttons on the keypad for her because she can't tell the 1 from the 9 from the 6 from the ENTER.

Friggin' unbelievable.

And after all that, do you know what happened? He freakin' GAVE her a DRIVER'S LICENSE. The woman can't see huge GLOWING text on an LCD screen, but she's capable of avoiding small children playing in the street.

God bless America, eh?

How to Find Short Story Markets

2008-12-02T13:38:00.002-05:00

Recently I applied to become a writer for Suite101, and against all odds, I was accepted. For my first article, I decided to write a short blurb on how to finding markets for short fiction. The reason being that when I first started wanting to submit my stories, some two years ago, I spend several hours perusing Google and not finding very much at all.

Now that I finally know how to go about finding markets, I figured it would be nice to sort of 'give back' by organizing the best methods into an article.

So, if you're just beginning as a fiction writer (or you're an established writer looking for new markets), check out my article.

How to Find Short Story Markets

Shifting gears yet again...

2008-12-01T19:26:00.000-05:00

Since I don't really use this blog anymore, I decided I'd use it to help promote my Suite101 articles. I don't think I'm allowed to divulge too much about why (or risk being 'fired') but suffice to say, the more promotion my articles get, the happier I'll be.

Yup.

2008-11-22T00:42:00.000-05:00

Well, I think I'm getting used to this being home thing. OK, I still don't have a phone, my debit card is still not activated, I still don't have clothes. But I do have a dresser and a betta fish. That's a start. I even think I'm getting used to sleeping alone again. That was the hard part at first--not drifting off to the sound of Hans's breathing. 'Course Bailey sleeps in my room half the time.

So what's new with me? I've lost interest in blogging again, but who really cares? I've also lost interest in NaNoWriMo. Well, I shouldn't put it like that. I still really like the idea and I really like my novel thus far, but since it's still very much a novelty to be home, I probably won't reach the 50k this month. But I've wanted to write this novel for quite a while, so I'll be getting back to it sooner or later.

I did get another short story published though, this time for money. Granted, it's only a token payment of $5, but the fact remains, someone was still willing to pay me for my work. I've decided that I'm going to make myself a website (a real one, that is) once I reach five published stories. So, three down, two to go.

Uhhh...what else? Still haven't seen my mom yet, but she's cooking 'cavats' on Sunday so I'm gonna head over there. My dad's girlfriend is a pretty cool lady. She's really annoying when she's drunk (now) but that might just be because I'm mostly sober and kind of bummed out that I'm home on a Friday night. Damn the fact that everyone's working.

Speaking of work, I need to get a part time job. I still do the textbroker thing, but the guy that gives me orders is busy with other stuff this month, so he's only sent me a few. This has made me realize I need something that I know I can depend on. Plus it's the only way I can get health insurance.

So yeah. That's what's new in my neck of the woods. Peace out homies. Get down wit yer bad self.

"Well, I'm home."

2008-11-14T14:13:00.001-05:00

It feels really weird to be here, to sleep in my own bed, to walk around my yard, to watch TV without subtitles. This is going to take some getting used to.

As promised, I have been attacked several times. Jonie bludgeoned me with her purse in the airport parking lot, and Ralph just yesterday tackled me in the driveway and pummeled me. Then he gave me a big hug. Go figure.

The flight was looooooooooooooooooooooooooong. And boooooooooooooring. I didn't sleep at all the night before leaving, so getting up at 3:30 in the morning was no biggie. When I said good-bye to Hans at the airport, the sadness hadn't hit me yet. Not even when I waved to him after passing through security. It didn't hit until after the plane was in the air actually. When I was looking down, watching Norway pass under me until it finally faded over the edge of the horizon, the sadness struck with avengence. That, combined with a poor choice of music--Pretty Maids All in a Row, Wasted Time, and New York Minute all by the Eagles came on in a succession and resulted in teary eyes and silent sobs.

Fortunately, I was surrounded by four little kids who were too busy jumping up and down, screaming, and kicking the back of my seat to notice.

I was all right again after we were over the open ocean though. And I changed the music to something more appropriate--Stolen Babies.

After that flight which, minus the crying, wasn't too unpleasant, I arrived at Heathrow in London, and that's where things really got fun. The place is huge, crowded, chaotic, and every woman that works there looks at you as though she's willing you to drop dead so she doesn't have to answer your question. However, every bloke I spoke to was polite and extremely helpful. Well, every bloke that wasn't working in security.

To start out with, I landed in terminal 5 at Heathrow. There are 5 terminals and, naturally, all of them are far apart from one another. Because I have the reading comprehension of a five year old, apparently, I set off to find out which terminal US Airways took off from and failed miserably. I asked half a dozen people where to go and all of them gave me different directions until finally I saw a sign advertising free transport between terminals on the Heathrow Express and voilà.

So I went all the way to the end of terminal 1 to the US Airways check in. There, the two security people snatched my passport from me, scanned it, and glared at me like I was a horrible person while they waited for my info to come up. After that, I stepped up to the counter to check my bag.

The dude behind the desk looked at my online receipt, typed a little bit. Then, look at my receipt, frowned, and typed some more. Several moments later, he looked up, still frowning.

"Are you sure you're at the right gate?"

Now it was my turn to frown. "Uhhh, I used to be."

As it turned out, I wasn't taking US Airways from London to Newark. I was taking Air India. Five year old reading comprehension. Yeah. Air India is located at terminal 3.

"Do you know how to get to terminal three?" he asked.

For a moment, I thought of the two hours I spent hopelessly lost in terminal 5. "I'll find it," I told him. And off I went.

I didn't get lost, it just took 45 minutes to walk all the way to terminal three and, once there, another 15 minutes to walk to the Air India check in station. There, a little old Indian guy interrogated me heavily, trying to determine if I was a terrorist, bent on causing hysteria and massive civilian casualties.

"Did you pack you bag yourself?" he asked.

Oh yes. They really know how to crack 'em.

So I got through the check in. Then, because Heathrow really wants their tourists to part with their cash, you actually HAVE to walk through the duty free shop on your way to the gate. And worse, they don't give you your gate right away. No, you have to wander about the duty free shop and all the other shops that are strategically planted in the area for another 45 minutes before your gate number appears on the board.

So I didn't buy anything at the duty free, but it wasn't for lack of trying. I wasn't allowed because my next flight to Newark was followed by a domestic flight within the states making it illegal. Not sure why, but I didn't ask. At the gate for my flight via Air India, a very corpulent woman with a look on her face as though there were a dead animal rotting directly under her nose instructed me to place my bags on the table and open them up. So I did, and she rooted through them until she was satisfied I wasn't concealing any WMDs like a nail file or knitting needles, and then she told me to proceed around the table.

On the other side, a small, cheery Indian woman approached.

"It's OK," she said, as though comforting me.

Then she felt me up. Well, patted me down anyways. Same thing.

After being violated, I was given my stuff back and told to head into the next room. Certain that I was about to subjected to a cavity search and maybe given an enema just to be sure, I held my breath and pulled the door open.

Instead of stern people with latex gloves, I was greeted by a room full of other people, nearly all of them Indian (imagine that), who looked as though they hadn't slept in weeks. This was fine by me because it meant that as soon as we boarded the plane, bolted down our 'lunch' and the pilot dimmed the lights, every person on that plane closed their window and went to sleep, myself included. And best of all, the plane wasn't completely full, so there was an empty seat between me and the guy sitting in the aisle of my row. It also meant I got an extra pillow.

We got to Newark about seven hours later, and then, armed with four hours of sleep, and vividly remembering my experience at Heathrow, I stepped into Newark International Airport.

And nobody cared. Sure, I went through security again and had to check my bag again, but no strip searches, no heavy interrogations, and no robust, gung-ho women looking at me like I'm the scum of the earth. And you know what else? Nobody gave a damn that I'd been in Norway for so long. All that time spent panicking and thinking of semi-decent excuses was all for nothing.

So I got to Pittsburgh, found my bag at the wrong baggage claim, and counted myself lucky that I just happened to glance over there at the right moment to see it. Jonie beat me up in the parking lot and then took me out for a beer. I love it.

Bailey didn't remember me at first, but now he's back to his old self, chasing me around, hogging my bed, and not letting me sleep past nine o'clock. My dad bought a 10 gallon aquarium a few weeks ago so I get to pick out some more fish to kill. Now, I'm about to go open a bank account and then Dad and I are going to buy me a dresser (because Dad took mine).

It's nice to be home. Weird, yes. Awkward, yes. But nice.

writing out the wazoo!

2008-11-02T22:47:00.002-05:00

Hey, look I’m not dead! No, really, I swear. You’re reading the worlds of a real live person — one that still can’t log into Blogger. And I finally convinced Hans that it’s our ISP’s fault only last night. (How long has this been going on for? Exactly.)

Anyways, NaNoWriMo kicked off to a glorious start on November 1. A bit about NaNo is that to reach the 50,000 word goal by the end of the month, you have to write at least 1,667 words each day. Of course you can write more or less and get ahead or make it up later, but that’s the average.

At the end of day 2, I’m up to 6,022 words. Granted, I won’t be able to keep this pace up for much longer, but I thought it’d be a good idea to get a head start before I get back home and begin to sacrifice writing for more lively pursuits. (Nine days nine days nine days!)

Also, remember few months ago when I announced that I was getting my first story published? Well, it’s officially online now. Yep, that’s right. I’m published. (Oh, and guess what, I had another story accepted—also due to be published this month. Woohoo!)

For anyone interested, here’s the story as it appears on The Battered Suitcase’s website:

The Things We Tell the Silence.

After Much Ado!

2008-10-16T20:15:00.000-04:00

It’s official—I’m going home. Finally. At long last. Endelig. So excited!

Yep, tickets have been purchased (and what a ride THAT was) and the date I’m going home is November 12th. Hallelujah!

It was actually quite cheap. Well, cheaper than I thought. See, when I originally decided I was going home, I looked at prices and saw that it would probably cost between $600-$700. Then, I had to wait. And wait and wait and wait. And the prices kept going up. And up and up and up.

I was facing a $1,000 flight and it made me want to cry. But just today, something unusual happened. The prices went back down! It must have been my fairy godmother. Or maybe it was just another one of Chuck Norris’s amazing powers (cus you know, when God goes to bed at night, he prays to Chuck Norris).

So I paid $700—$699 if you want to get that picky—and I’m going home. Soon. Huzzah!

(And everyone give Allison a round of applause for her awesomeness in continuing to post blogs for me!)

[Yeah, I'm just that good. *shifty eyes*
-Allison]

I'm not poor anymore!

2008-10-12T13:48:00.001-04:00

I’m drinking water out of a glass that smells like dish soap. That probably means I’m drinking diluted dish soap, and I think that’s probably a bad thing.

Just thought you’d like to know.

Well, to update, my scheduled return to the states keeps getting pushed back because things keep going wrong. (Who’d have guessed, right?) Now, I’m just waiting for my dad to give me the go-ahead to use his credit card, but it’s looking like I won’t be coming home until mid-November now. All this – pardon my French – pussy-footing around has brought the holidays closer and therefore also brought the prices up. I’m thinking if I don’t get to order this damn ticket by the end of next week, I’m not going to make it home till after the new year, and goddamn would that piss me off.

However, in the mean time I’m employed. Self-employed that is, and it’s actually worth my while, despite being a little banal at times. And best of all, I’m making money writing, which is all I really wanted to do anyways. While it’s not fiction (which I guess is my long-term goal, despite my utter lack of confidence lately), it’s still writing. I write articles, product reviews, and other web content.

It’s actually quite lucrative to tell the truth. Sure, it didn’t start out that way. I started out practically working for pennies. Literally. In my first month writing articles, I only made about $150. However, because I’ve managed to pawn myself off as a professional writer/editor (thank you, Oddville), I now have steady work.

Today, for example, I finished a $70 order of twelve articles about debt consolidation (the most retarded thing I’ve ever had to write, I might add), but in the process, I got a $500 order doing product reviews of golf clubs. I’ve already done some work for this guy writing reviews of women’s golf balls at $12 for a 250-word review, but now he’s promised me the same kind of work for the next six months, which boils down to me bringing in about $1,500 a month or more if I complete the orders faster than the 10-day deadline he gave me.

To give some perspective, when I worked at InfoPrison—erm, InfoCision, that is—I only made about $1,000 a month taking shit from customers 40 hours a week.

All I have to say is boo-yah grandma!

NaNoWriMo, Here We Come!

2008-10-04T10:36:00.001-04:00

Firstly, huge thank you to Allison for being awesome enough to post this for me. (Would you believe I can’t even log into Blogger/Google/Yahoo anymore? Who woulda thunk that Hotmail would be the only thing that still works. Once in a blue moon, eh?)

Anyways, boys and girls, it’s October, and that means you can sign up to participate in NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) come November. Having never done it before myself, I’m excited. I had two ideas to work with, one of which I did some pretty heavy world-building with, and for the other I did a plot outline.

While I like the one I did world-building on, it’s something I know is going to take a crap load of research, so I’ll probably go with the other idea. It has dragons in it.

As if I could resist.

I’m trying to side-step the dragon-cliché while, at the same time, take advantage of it (if that makes any sense). Can’t say for sure that I’ll manage, but at least I’ll have some fun with it.

So go sign up! National Novel Writing Month. Just don’t start writing until November 1st!

Fin.

oh how i wish i could blog

2008-09-24T19:13:00.000-04:00

But I can't. It doesn't work. (And if you're reading this, it means it did work once, but then I couldn't successfully edit the thing into something I actually wanted to say.)

*sigh*

everyday madness - a novel

2008-09-12T12:52:00.000-04:00

A friend and fellow mentor on WF recently completed his first novel, entitled Everyday Madness. With the publishing industry being the elite 'in-club' that it is, the author, Matthew Malone, has decided to start his own publishing company and self-publish his novel.

Although it is available for purchase on Amazon (at a relatively cheap price), he's also offering the book as a free download in .pdf form. I finished reading it yesterday and, despite the severe themes, I found it to be a worthwhile read.

Reilly Reynolds tries to be a good person. Life has given him a series of obstacles - mental illness, self-loathing, a genetic predisposition to drug abuse - but Reilly does his best to work through these problems as he struggles to maintain to the one principle he believes fundamental: "goodness." The novel moves through surrealistic scenes as it follows Reilly's gradual descent into suicidal misery and, eventually, nihilism, as his morals are stripped away and the final traces of his sanity are lost.

Attempting to deal with broken love and a society he is unable to understand, Reilly continually finds himself questioning the purpose of life, and trying to answer the biggest question of all: Is life really worth living?

Reilly's ordeals are bizarre, sometimes shocking, yet alarmingly real. He fights with an amputee at his father's funeral, spends time in a mental institution, takes LSD at a dog fight, and looks on passively as a man commits suicide.

Set in the Deep South and featuring a cast of characters that include a quadriplegic crack addict, a deranged small town mayor, and a sado-masochistic bi-sexual, Everyday Madness forces its readers to confront the darkest aspects of life, yet provides a
lens of satirical, dry humor to make the sometimes off-putting material macabrely appealing to the reader.

Written shortly after the author experienced a nervous breakdown (partly, he claims, due to the experiences portrayed in this novel), Everyday Madness has been dubbed a "Mostly True Story." It straddles the lines between fiction and reality, and leaves the reader asking, "Could this possibly be real?"

While it's certainly not a book for children or the faint of heart, I would recommend having a look.

To order, go Here.

To download the .pdf version for free, go Here.

More information can be found on Malone's website Here.

broken into print, baby!

2008-09-08T02:43:00.000-04:00

OK, I know I said I wouldn't blog much till I got home since I can't reply to comments, but I couldn't resist this one. After a year and a half of toil and the creation of a folder in my inbox dedicated solely to the forty or so rejections I've gotten -- I. Have. Been. Published! Woohoo!

I sent a piece of flash fiction to an e-zine awhile back, which was rejected. However, in that rejection, the editor included a note saying that if I had any other pieces I was looking to publish, he would like to have a look. Well, of course I did, but after reading a few of them over, I didn't think any of them would quite fit the publication.

So I wrote another story while I was in Denmark and -- poof! The Vagabondage Press is going to publish the story in their November issue of The Battered Suitcase. I think it can be read online, so I'll probably post a link when it's available.

Happy happy joy joy! :D

giggle, giggle

2008-09-05T19:57:00.002-04:00

This video's retarded but it amuses me greatly. And since I have absolutely nothing to blog about, it'll do in a pinch. (The song's nothing to care about though.) Still, enjoy!

promotions are fun

2008-08-30T15:26:00.002-04:00

Well, it was bound to happen eventually. See, over at WF.com there were mentors and moderators out the wazoo, but only about five of them were active. So I guess the remaining active staff members decided to do a bit of clean up on that list, and what do you know, they asked me to be a mentor.

That means I'm cooler than a regular member but not as cool as a moderator. So now it's not really a choice to read and critique the writing posted on the site, it's an obligation. :P

But it makes me happy. Very, very happy.

(And by the way, the reason I haven't been answering my comments is because I can't. We switched ISPs while we were in Denmark and now myriad sites don't work properly--and some like Duotrope don't work at all. Blogger is one such site. In fact, I've had several failed attempts to even make this post. So sorry, but I probably won't be blogging much (or commenting at all) until I get back to the states at the end of next month.)

just a bottle

2008-08-26T11:07:00.002-04:00

I keep thinking about something that happened while I was in Oslo on the way back from Denmark, and while I hope this doesn't turn into one of those corny little anecdotes that you find in your inbox every once in awhile, I think it might. So sorry for that up front.

See, Hans and I were sitting at the bus station in Oslo waiting for the bus to bring us back to Dokka. After a little while I noticed a man who had the most blazing blue eyes I've ever seen, the kind of eyes that give the appearance of actually shining with light, rather than reflecting it.

This man was digging through garbage cans, gathering bottles so he could get the money from recycling them.

I sat there and watched him for about ten minutes while I finished the bottle of soda I was drinking. He didn't look at anybody. Just moved from one garbage can to the next, stuck his arm inside, and rooted around for bottles. These he collected in a large black garbage back that looked as though it had seen better days.

By the time I finished my soda, the man was on his way out, but I got up anyways and said 'excuse me' to try to get his attention. By about the third time, he finally turned to see what I wanted, whereupon I held out the empty soda bottle and asked him if he wanted it.

He reached out to take the bottle from me and looked me dead in the eye with those wondrous eyes of his. And he said, "Thank you. Really, thank you very much." He said it as though I'd just given him a signed check for several hundred dollars.

But I hadn't; it was just a bottle. So I kind of smiled and nodded a little awkwardly and then went back to sit down as he made his way out of the bus station.

And that was it.

It's good to be nice, isn't it? I'd just finished spending ten days in Denmark with Hans's mom who didn't mind ordering me to weed her garden, carry some heavy thing, cook dinner, or some such chore, so to do something nice for someone just because I wanted to, no matter how small the deed, felt utterly refreshing.

And maybe that guy at the bus station turned away from me and rolled his eyes at the patronizing bitch that thinks she did him a favor. But then again, maybe not. Maybe he really did appreciate it.

You never do know, so it's always good to be nice.

meme'd again!

2008-08-22T09:48:00.004-04:00

Looks like Stella over at StellaScript has tagged me with a meme.

The task at hand is to let you in on six unspectacular quirks about myself and then tag six other people.

Officially, here are the rules:

1. Link to the person who tagged you.
2. Mention the rules.
3. Tell six unspectacular quirks of yours.
4. Tag six bloggers by linking.
5. Leave a comment for each blogger.

So, six quirks about me:

And now for the lucky six that I get to tag. Hmm, I always seem to tag the same people, so I'll try something new. I hereby tag: Bart over at be.Bartlog, Paul over at Clamouring to become visible..., Sam over at One Way Or An Author, Travis over at One Word, One Rung, One Day, and Madison over at write on the edge.

[EDIT] Oh, crap. That's only five. In that case, I'll tag Other Steph over at In Other Words.

That is all.

return of the steph

2008-08-19T19:20:00.002-04:00

Denmark is still flat, just in case anyone was wondering. Really flat. The kind of flat where if your dog ran away, you'd still be able to see it for three days.

It wasn't that bad though. I mean, sure Hans's mom lives in an apartment which is surrounded by farmland for at least 10 kilometers in all directions. Yeah, sure it rained for all but the last three days.

And let me tell you, there's nothing quite like the stench of wet cow manure in the morning. And afternoon. And evening. And night. Seriously, I think one of three things can happen to a person who is exposed to that smell all the time. The most common is that you probably just develop a kind of tolerance to it so that you don't notice it anymore. The second is that you actually grow to enjoy the smell.

Or you slowly lose the will to live. I believe I fall into category three, as I definitely didn't get used to it. And while I do like the smell of skunk, the manure thing just didn't catch. So yeah. Door number three.

Denmark was a lot more fun this year, however. Especially since I could actually understand and speak with Hans's mom this time around--screwy redneckish dialect or not, and as it turns out, I even understand a little Danish.

And I'll refrain from going off on a long tangent about how cool I think it is that a Dane and a Norwegian can speak their respective languages and still be able to carry on a conversation with one another because Danish and Norwegian are so similar to one another (but only in structure--not in pronunciation).

Anyways, Hans's mom. I think she likes me. She gave me two pairs of gold earrings that she didn't like, both of which are rather cute. Plus any time Hans and I bickered, she took my side. Teehee.

Another upside is that the traveling part went smoothly. Last year it did not. I'm completely tired of traveling, however, and I'm glad to be back home.

I returned to mostly dead flowers (but I can fix them, I think), a science experiment where there had once been a half loaf of bread, and fish that were more than a little disgruntled about the idiot woman at the pet store that consistently gives me bad information.

Case in point:

I walk into the pet store two days before we leave for Denmark.

"I'm going on vacation for about two weeks. Do you have something I can use to feed my fish while I'm gone?"

"Yes," says the idiot woman. "One of these tablets in the tank will dissolve slowly so that your fish can eat from it while you're gone. It'll last about a week."

"Really?" I ask. "So then since I'm going to be gone for two weeks, would it work if I just put two of them in the tank?"

"Yep, no problem."

Well, yes problem. Yes very big problem. The bacteria ate more of the food pellets than my fish and I returned to some seriously cloudy, seriously stinky fish water. So I had to rescue my two bettas and two guppies and put them in other containers for the night. But hey, at least they survived.

That about sums the whole thing up. I'm back, I still have a lot of crap to do before I'm settled in here again, but I'll manage.

It's good to be home.

adieu, adieu

2008-08-05T13:41:00.001-04:00

Tomorrow morning begins the incredibly stressful, long, soggy, miserable voyage to the mainland. Well, not exactly. Actually, tomorrow Hans, the dog, and I will be taking a three-hour bus trip to Oslo, followed by a three-hour train ride to Skien. We'll stay the night in Skien (at Hans's sister's place--Hans has already called dibs on the larger of her couches, the bastard).

Thursday morning around five, we leave the dog and take a taxi, a train, and another taxi to the docks in Larvik where we get to board a boat for about four hours or so. When we arrive in Hirtshals, Hans's brother will pick us up and drive us the two-and-a-half hours to Randers where Hans's mom lives.

Doesn't that sound like a lot of fun? I, for one, can't wait. [/sarcasm]

Ten fun-filled days visiting Hans's mom and listening to the two of them bicker. On top of all that, Hans told his mother that I have a green thumb, so I've been volunteered to help her out with planting her flowers. Never mind that I don't know jack about flowers or planting in general. Just because I haven't yet killed the ones Hans bought me for my birthday doesn't mean squat.

Anyways, yeah. I'm leaving. I'll see you all around August 20th or so.

Hugs all around.

of eclipses, voyages, and worlds...

2008-08-02T13:22:00.002-04:00

Where to begin? Let's start with yesterday. Norway's first total solar eclipse since 1954. Of course it was cloudy here, and we weren't far enough north to see the total eclipse anyways. But, Hans did manage to get a few good shots of it. Looky...

Cool, yes?

You know what else is cool? Building a planet. August is world building month over at tales of a fantasy scribbler, so I've decided to join in. I have a very, very vague idea of the novel I'm going to write for NanoWriMo this year, and I figure it'd be cool to actually build a world for once, instead of winging it.

I created a wordpress blog on which to do it. The link to it is over in my blogroll somewhere. Already it's proven useful and fun, so I'm happy.

Lastly and most certainly leastly, I'm headed for Denmark on August 6th and I won't be back until August 16th at the earliest. Honestly, I can think of at least 587 things I'd rather be doing (having my fingernails pried off with tongs is one of them) but Hans is dead-set on it. So whatever. I'm going home in September, so I only have to endure this one more time. I'll survive.

Thus, the above poste doth ende.

what's your guilty pleasure?

2008-07-27T20:37:00.001-04:00

I think probably one of the most sacred questions in the writing world is: What makes a good story good? Why, if there were a straight answer to that, then every Tom, Dick, and Harry would be a best-seller. Of course there's not. People are too different from one another. Their opinions vary considerably.

So, I put this question to you, dear readers. What do you like in a story? What makes you read it instead of grabbing another one from the shelf? Something fresh? A new spin on an old tale perhaps? Something that scares your socks off? What?

Insider's Tip: What makes editors so uniquely savage is that when they like something, they understand why. And when they abhor something, they know precisely where to go to town with those little red pens they all carry around with them.

The reason I pose this question isn't because I'm trying to get ahead by answering some of the cosmic questions, but because I'm simply curious. For example (and I'll try really hard not to complain here...),

Recently, I entered a writing competition on WF.com. Nothing serious. No cash prizes, weekend getaways, or giant balls of string to be had. Just good fun and free critique. I wrote a fantasy parody entitled, The Very Impressive Amulet of Great Significance. (Huge thank you to Cirellio, Bazsa, and Writer for beta reading!)

Five volunteer judges read it and scored it thus (out of 20): 18, 17, 18, 20, 12

Yes, twelve. OK, I won't complain. Someone else gave me full points. Woohoo! See what I mean? One person thought my story was perfect. Another thought it was crap. Vastly different opinions here.

And by the way, the story that I liked best didn't come top three, either. Just goes to show, eh? Even over at Oddville you see it. We've rejected some pieces that I thought were excellent. We've accepted some pieces that I thought were crap.

And before I put it to you all to answer my question, I'll answer it myself.

My guilty pleasure is a protagonist with a less-than-perfect view on morality. Ever see the movie Accidental Hero with Dustin Hoffman? Yeah, I love that. There are few things I hate more than when the MC does something bad and feels guilty about it, and then later on, you find out that when he accidentally set that building on fire and killed all those people, he also annihilated a bad-ass terrorist organization and saved the city from being destroyed.

As to genre, I don't really have a preference. Generally speaking, I don't like hardcore genre fiction because so much of it is just recycled ideas. Occasionally something unique comes along but not often. However, if said genre fiction has cool, complex characters, I'll read it. Even if the main plot device is a sword that makes you angry. (Fear me, I'm seriously pissed off!) As long as I like the dude who keeps flipping his wig, I'll read the thing. Until he loses the last shreds of his believability around book eight or so...

So there you have it. That's what I like to see.

What about you?

so very GUD!

2008-07-24T03:47:00.003-04:00

It's not often that I can sit down and read a twenty-ish-page story on the computer. Editor or no, I muchly prefer the feel of paper in my hands and the dry, slippery sound of pages turning. The fact that I've just read several such stories in a succession speaks wonders for this little gem.

GUD (Greatest Uncommon Denominator) Magazine is doing a contest and the prize is free hard copies of its first three issues. How cool is that? And best of all, to enter said contest, you don't even have to do anything hard like standing on one hand and doing the hula while reciting the Greek alphabet in reverse. (Show me the person who can do that!)

Nope, all you've gotta do is make a blog post. If you'll kindly follow the link above, you can find out the specifics. Definitely do so--I've read most of the first issue and it's just glowing with awesomeness.

this just blows me away...

2008-07-22T18:47:00.001-04:00

I don't even have the words to describe how awesome this is. Suffice to say, I could listen to it on repeat until the day I die and I would die a very happy person.

lost but found

2008-07-15T17:23:00.003-04:00

I guess I was feeling a little homesick today because I started perusing websites about Pennsylvania wildlife, which then led to finding an article about the history of Cascade Park, which then led to me wondering what the hell that article was talking about when it mentioned a lake in Cascade Park, which then led to me realizing that the broken remnants of the dam that I've played around most of my life were the reason I knew nothing of a lake.

After I figured that most obvious fact out, I decided to look through my old pictures because I know I have a picture of the aforementioned broken dam remnants. Of course, I couldn't find it right off but I found some other cool pictures along the way and decided that since I've absolutely nothing else to blog about, I would show some pictures. I don't think I've done so in quite a while anyways.

To start with and to prove I did find the dam(n) picture, here it is:

And now here's something you'll really like...

Bailey!!

(For those that don't know, Bailey is my dog back home, and pretty much what I miss the most--sad, I know.)

Interesting side fact: About two weeks or so after I brought Bailey home, he fell off that little drop off you can kind of see in the dam photo and into the water. (The water level is high in this picture but when it's lower, there's a large, flat stone in the center of the creek. We were sitting on that when this little incident occurred.

Despite the screwy lighting and blur, I think this is a cool picture. And I'm chuckling to myself as I remember how he used to follow me around the house making that stupid toy of his squeak to try and catch my attention.

That's Bailey with our neighbor's dog Jasper. They're about the same age, so they grew up spending hours fighting over toys, chasing squirrels, and annoying my dad's ducks.

And this is Bailey at his finest! I love this picture. (Do excuse the filthy carpet!)

There you have it. My dog. If all goes well, I'll get to see him this September if I make it home. Can't wait! Not that the furry critter I take care of here isn't a nice dog, but she's not half as cool as my Bailey. Though I have to admit, she does have this strange fixation with bird feathers that's rather amusing...

End!

so how many of you saw the gorilla?

2008-07-09T13:54:00.003-04:00

In that little video I asked you to watch--did you see it? The (guy dressed as a) gorilla walks out into the middle of them while they're passing the ball.

Yeah, I totally missed it. But I laughed my ass off when I found out about it and watched the video again.

Anyways, so that this post actually serves a purpose beyond monkey business, I'll leave you with the results of the 'oral sex' experiment. I only got four hits resulting from people searching for those words. Though perhaps if I randomly inserted other such words amid my posts, it would have a higher result. You know, like, "So I was outside walking the dog SEX when this guy drove by in a yellow BOOBS Ferrari. I just stood there with this THREESOME dumb look on my face. I mean, a LESBIANS Ferrari in Norway! Who would've guessed FELLATIO?"

Ahem, I'm done now. Sorry.

*hangs head and ambles away*

oral sex!

2008-07-07T15:20:00.003-04:00

Actually, this post has nothing to do with oral sex, but I've heard that if you put 'sex' in the title of your post, you get more hits. I feel like testing that one out, but if nothing else, at least I had your attention for a moment there.

I was just doing a bit of poking around trying to learn a bit more about eye dominance. See, I'm left-eye dominate, which certainly explains why I've never been able to hit crap when it came to using a bow and arrow. (Funnily enough, with rifles, I always had the good sense to close my left eye, but I never connected that with archery.)

By the way, for those of you that don't know which is your dominant eye, there's an easy way to find out. Take the hand that you write with and make an O with your thumb and forefinger. Then, with both of your eyes open, look at an object across the room through the O. Close one eye. If the object you were looking at is still in the center of your O, the eye that's open is your dominant eye.

And actually, while I'm on the subject, I'd be interested in hearing what your dominant eye is. Apparently 80% are supposed to be right-eye dominant.

Anyways, in my 'research' I found two really exciting things. Really, really exciting. To me. Either because I'm easily amused (and I know I am) or because they really are cool.

Thing number one:

Which way is this woman spinning, clockwise or counterclockwise? (By the way, this is not a faked graphic, I've opened it frame by frame and it really is spinning continuously in one direction.)

Apparently, if you see it spinning clockwise, you're right eye dominant, and if you see it spinning counterclockwise, you're left eye dominant.

The other:

Go here and watch the video (30 seconds or so--and you need java, by the way) and count the number of times the team in the white shirts pass the ball. This one, I'll post the answer in a day or two. (If any of you have seen it, don't spoil it, please?) I got a big laugh out of the result.

By the way, tell me how many you count, too. I'm curious.

oddville -- it's new, it's shiny, and it's FREE!

2008-07-02T05:34:00.004-04:00

Hello again, my darlings. Listen, I need you all to do me a favor. And actually, you'll be doing yourself a favor as well--especially if you like contemporary fiction.

You'd be making me a happy little blogger indeed if you were to follow this link right here and subscribe to The Oddville Press. It's free. It's full of great stories. (Trust me, I've read them all.) Have I mentioned it's free? It's pretty snazzy looking, too. And free.

What've you got to lose?

Sure, the first issue won't be released until September 1, but that's no reason to procrastinate. In fact, that's the very reason why you shouldn't procrastinate--you might forget if I don't poke you in the head with my super duper poking stick, and I really don't want to have to do that. And I'm pretty sure you don't want me to do that either, so go subscribe!

For you writers out there, we're still taking submissions so you haven't run out of time yet.

So submit, subscribe, and be happy! Woohoo!

aphrodite anorexic?

2008-06-29T03:11:00.002-04:00

I might very well have the most contrary betta fish in Norway.

When I brought her home, there were only a few different colored flakes she ate--the orange and yellow ones. She left the red, brown, and green ones to foul up her water. Then, less than a week later, she decided she didn't like any of them.

So, I dug up earthworms and chopped them up for her. She loved 'em.

Now she turns her nose up at them.

Finally, at my wit's end, I started catching mosquitoes for her. Again, she devoured them. And again, now she hates them.

I have two ideas left. Well, three. But the third is letting her starve to death as she rightly deserves. The first is that I'm currently boiling an egg to see if she cares for mashed egg yolk. Fry love it, at least. And if that doesn't work, I've got an infusoria culture started. (You know... protozoa, algae, paramecia, etc.) Still, it'll be hard to monitor what she eats of that since it's friggin' microscopic.

And if that weren't enough, guess what I just noticed. SHE'S FREAKIN' DISPLAYING VERTICAL BARS!

For those among you who don't grasp the significance, it means she wants to mate. She hasn't eaten in three days, but the biatch wants to have fishy sex.

Perhaps her lack of interest in food is actually an eating disorder. She poofs at her reflection in the mirror because she thinks she's fat and decides to stop eating. My stupid fish is anorexic.

Anybody know a good fish psychologist?

encore!

2008-06-24T23:24:00.005-04:00

This time Aaron tagged me. I shouldn't complain, I had it coming really. I deserved it. But dangit, why is it all so unfair?? I never wanted to tag anyone! The meme made me! I had no choice!

Ahem, done complaining there. Sorry.

Anyways, on to the thingamabob...

A-Attached or Single? Uhhh, I don't know about 'attached' since I'm pretty sure we're not joined at the hip or anything, but I'm not single.

B-Best Friend? Jonie. Allison. Mike when we actually talk.

C-Cake or Pie? Cake. Ice cream cake, actually.

D-Day of Choice? Tuesday. I've no reason why. Just Tuesday.

E-Essential Items? I suppose food is pretty essential. Water, too.

F-Favorite Color? If it's dark and heavily saturated (read: deep) I like it.

G-Gummy Bears or Worms? Worms. I could play with them for hours. In fact, I have (not recently).

H-Hometown? A little hole in the world called New Castle, Pennsylvania.

I-Indulgence? Bread. French fries. Ice cream.

J-January or July? July. In America. July here ain't much to brag about. I'm freezing.

K-Kids? No, thanks.

L-Life? Don't talk to me about life. (Bonus points for anyone who gets the reference!)

M-Marriage Date? That would be the same day that Hell freezes over, I believe. And the same day that The Supremes get back together, incidentally.

N-Number of Siblings? 1/2

O-Oranges or Apples? Oranges of the Mandarin variety.

P-Phobias or Fears? Anything with more than four legs. Really, there's just no reason for that.

Q-Quote? "You live and you learn. At any rate, you live." - Douglas Adams

R-Reason to Smile? Because I just stole your sock and hung it on your ear.

S-Superman or Wonder Woman? Captain Obvious (Another bonus point for the reference.)

T-Tag 5 people. It is with a heavy heart that I do this, remember. Cirellio (you knew it was coming, didn't you?), Allison, Mike, Jenny, and... and... who's it gonna be??? Papa Smurf.

V-Vegetables? Brussels sprouts, lima beans, peas, carrots, cauliflower, brocolli, corn--pretty much all of them. Yummy yummy!

W-Worst Habit? Being a callous bitch.

X-Ray or Ultrasound? Colonel Mustard in the kitchen with a knife.

Y-Your Favorite Food? Bread. Or better yet, bread and tomatoes. Or even better, bread and tomatoes and garlic. MMM-MM-MMMMMM! God, I'm hungry now...

Z-Zodiac Sign? Gemini.

That's all folks...

tagged, you say?

2008-06-23T06:10:00.000-04:00

Cirellio over at The Five Rings has tagged me. More on that in just a sec, I have to mention this: I just had a piece of writing rejected by a magazine that I truly don't believe I've submitted anything to. Oddly, this makes my day. I'm no stranger to rejections, but when they're rejecting me before I even send the stinking stories, that's a different issue all together.

Anyways, yes, tagged. By Cirellio. Five Rings. I haven't forgotten. Here's the rules...
List seven songs you are into right now. No matter what the genre, whether they have words, or even if they’re not any good, but they must be songs you’re really enjoying now, shaping your spring summer. Post these instructions in your blog along with your seven songs. Then tag seven other people to see what they’re listening to.

Seeing as how I've not had an internet connection for three days, I've done little else but listen to music and crochet. Problem is, it's mostly been Metallica. Oh well, let's see here...

1. Silver Strand - The Corrs (Irish Pop)
I love instrumental music--especially when it includes the fiddle and the tin flute. Mmmmmm!

2. Ain't My Bitch - Metallica (Heavy Metal)
A couple days ago, when I was trying to get Hans's ancient stereo to work, I ended up listening to this song no less than 57 times. I didn't like it that much to begin with but now... meh.

3. The Promised Land - Final Fantasy, Advent Children Soundtrack (Chant)
Such a peaceful, happy song. Never fails to soothe the nerves.

4. Lemuria - Therion (Opera Metal)
Probably my all-time favorite song. No matter how many times I hear it, I always stop what I'm doing to listen when it comes on.

5. Build Me Up, Buttercup - The Foundations (Oldies)
This song has kept me jubillent for the last three days, despite my lack of internet connection. Fun sidefact: When I worked at InfoPrison, I drove a friend home one night. Eric, the die-hard metalhead. However, I had the oldies station on, and we sang this song like drunken idiots until we got to his house and he made me swear never to tell anyone that he knew the lyrics. (By the way, I never swore it, so I'm not breaking a promise!)

6. Yellow Brick Road - Elton John (80s Pop/Rock)
Always. In. My. Head. 'Nuff said.

7. The Dark - Trans-Siberian Orchestra (Um, rock? Classical? Opera? All of the above?)
Mostly I love the lyrics. And the guitar solo.

But in the night, the darkness breathes
If he wills it to be
Before his eyes, the music dies
But he will always hear me
He sits alone, the cards are shown
As he embraces the dark
The only sound that he will hear
Is there in his heart.
I tag (nya nya!): Allison, Writer, Aaron, Betty, Scáth, B, and lastly, Leigh (though he seems to have given up on his LJ. You never know--he may surprise us!)

Au revoir for now!

this guy gets his own post!

2008-06-18T12:35:00.003-04:00

OK, one more comedian to bring to your attention. If you thought Connolly and the others were funny, you ain't seen nothing yet. Actually, most of you probably have already seen this guy in the movie There's Something About Mary. His name's Lee Evans. He played the guy in love with Mary who pretended to be British and crippled.

Sam and I watched him almost exclusively yesterday and we have more of his clips to watch later on today. I can't wait. I've never laughed so hard in all my life. I was actually crying and drooling on the pillow that I was using to keep from waking up the whole neighborhood.

I saved the MSN convo with Sam, so here's a little snippet of it, so you can see just how much fun we were having:

(Steph) sier:
you're in the services eating and you don't know why
Sam sier:
ROFL
Sam sier:
There's a space, is there? Fuck it let's go!
(Steph) sier:
LMAO
Sam sier:
DEAD!
(Steph) sier:
LOL
(Steph) sier:
i've been trying to say that all the fucking way here!
Sam sier:
ROFLMAO
Sam sier:
I'm gonna have the flu in a year, can you fucking fit me in!
(Steph) sier:
ROFL
(Steph) sier:
trying to flu back up!
Sam sier:
LOL

...Several minutes later...

(Steph) sier:
THATS WHY I GAVE YOU THE FUCKING MAP!
Sam sier:
Christopher fucking Columbus!
(Steph) sier:
ROFL
Sam sier:
He don't know where the fuck he is at the minute!
(Steph) sier:
LMAO
Sam sier:
No, I won't ask, it's up here, definitely!
(Steph) sier:
ROFLMAO
Sam sier:
What twat wouldn't plug the - oh fuck!
(Steph) sier:
ROFLMAO!
Sam sier:
GET OFF THE FUCKING CAR, LOVE!
(Steph) sier:
ROFL!
Sam sier:
AND PUT SOME CLOTHES ON!

That's how most of our conversations look. For hours on end. It's great!

And now because, you're all dying to know what's so bloody funny, here's a clip. There's plenty more on YouTube, but this is the one that had me crying.

comedy hour(s)!

2008-06-14T09:18:00.002-04:00

This has been a splendid week for me! I made a friend!

Hey now, just because you have plenty doesn't mean you can give me that look. I live in Viking country, remember? Can you even imagine how difficult it is to bond with people whose ancestors burned and pillaged countless, defenseless villages?

Yeah, exactly. That's why my friend is yet another cyberspace friend. His name's Sam and he lives in Ireland. And I just told him I'd refer to him as Sam the Comedy Man.

Why, you ask? Well, because that's what we do. It's become a tradition. Every night, we hang out on YouTube and watch stand up comedy. And I really need to bring some of these comedians to your attention.

Billy Connolly is my favorite. Not only is he hilarious, but he speaks with a Scottish accent! It's like a double-bonus. Funny as an upside down barrel full of monkeys AND Scottish. Does it get any better than that?

My second favorite comedian that we've watched is Michael McIntyre. Actually, he's a bit funnier than Connolly, but not Scottish. That's the rub.

Lastly--well, last to be mentioned à la blog is Tommy Tiernan. Irish comedian. Lots of energy. Absolutely hilarious. Watch and laugh!

a wonderful favor from a wonderful blogger

2008-06-09T11:22:00.000-04:00

A week or so ago, in my quest to let as many people know about Oddville as possible, I happened upon a lovely little blog by an aspiring novelist named Aaron Crocco.

Since leaving a comment on his blog, he and I have exchanged numerous emails concerning Oddville's how-to's and wherefor's, and he made the offer that I could commandeer his blog and write a couple paragraphs explaining to his readers about our new e-zine--what we're looking for, and any other random bits of information I felt were relevant.

Truly a gracious offer, wouldn't you say?

Of course I jumped at the opportunity because Oddville really is the coolest thing I've done since my amazing pogo stick adventure at age seven. (For more details on that, beg, plead, and grovel. I'm willing to be bribed as well.)

Anyways, because Aaron did such a nice thing, the very least I can do is point some visitors over to his site. He runs a very nice blog with a clean layout and ever-interesting posts about writing, music, blogging, and myriad observations of his. Do check it out--it'll be worth your while.

Aaron Crocco: Copious Notes

quest for rocks

2008-06-04T13:32:00.005-04:00

I planted flowers behind our apartment. I've never planted anything before so I want it to look cool. To achieve that, I need some rocks. Cool-looking ones, to boot.

Theoretically, that shouldn't be a problem. Rocks aren't really that hard to come by. Hell, I dug up quite a number of them while I was preparing to plant my flowers.

Well, of course I have to make everything difficult.

There's a river nearby. Rivers are filled with rocks. Do you see where I'm going with this?

Sure you do.

However, even though this river is close, the part of the river containing the most cool-looking rocks is not so near. It's about a two and a half kilometer walk each way.

And I now know what it would feel like to walk that far if I weighed fifty pounds more. It's not a sensation I wish to revisit, either.

I could regale you with the epic tale of climbing the fifty meters up from the river with fifty pounds of rocks on my back, about how exhausting it was to trudge in such sweltering weather, and about that one confounded rock that jabbed me in the spine with each jostling step I took. I could lavishly spin that yarn for you, but hey--that would be a shameless plea for attention and I won't do it.

So, to skip past the harrowing toil and the blood, sweat, and tears that came with it, when I returned to the small plot of grass behind our apartment and dropped the rock-filled book bag, I experienced a sensation not unlike the one you get when you try to jump just after getting off a trampoline. Only in reverse. It was as though I were bouncing up and down in triumph over gravity.

That's what it feels like to loose fifty pounds in a matter of seconds, and it was exhilarating. For a few fleeting moments, I giggled with excitement and wonder.

Of course, now I'm sore, stiff, and irritable.

And I still don't have enough rocks.

another oopsies

2008-05-28T23:15:00.003-04:00

It's breakfast time for my fishies. I grab an earthworm from the container, chop it up into bite-sized pieces, and head for the living room to where my three bettas live on top of my desk.

I waggle a piece of worm in front of Spike to coax him into nabbing it. He does and I watch him chew it a few times before moving on to the next fish.

Belle bites my finger in her eagerness to get to the worm. I drop it and it lands on her head, freaking her out momentarily. She recovers and slurps up the worm before it manages to drift to the bottom. I step over to Aphrodite's bowl.

She's gone.

I peer stupidly into the bowl for several long seconds before I realize what this means. Immediately, I race to the kitchen, wash the worm guts off my hands, and grab a flashlight. I search the area around Aphrodite's bowl and find nothing. I even move her bowl and check under it for good measure.

I shine the light over my laptop, my books, my CDs but I see no fish. I don't even see a tell-tale drop of water that would give me some sort of direction. That leaves me with one terrifying possibility--behind my desk.

I crawl underneath, amid the dust, papers, and tufts of dog hair. Holding the flashlight up, I begin to dig through the debris. I figure she has to be dead. Before feeding her, I watched a movie. She could have been out of the water for over an hour. I wonder if the dog has found the corpse before me.

I lift up an empty box and see something wiggling. Promptly, I slam my head off the underside of the desk and exclaim, "Oh fuck me, she's still alive!"

Dropping the flashlight, I run into the kitchen, grab a cup, steal some water out of Spike's bowl, and plop Aphrodite into the cup--dog hair and all. She's completely dry to the touch.

To add insult to her injury, I try to brush the dog hair off of her with my finger and then pour her back into her bowl. She's still alive and looking alright.

I, then, make three separate lids out of paper plates to prevent a sequel.

Stupid fish.

Eurovision 2008

2008-05-25T04:24:00.002-04:00

Well, the results are in, ladies and gents. Have a look-see:

1. Russia: 272 points
2. Ukraine: 230 points
3. Greece: 218 points
4. Armenia: 199 points
5. Norway: 182 points
6. Serbia: 160 points
7. Turkey: 138 points
8. Azerbaijan: 132 points
9. Israel: 124 points
10. Bosnia & Herzegovina: 110 points
11. Georgia: 83 points
12. Latvia: 83 points
13. Portugal: 69 points
14. Iceland: 64 points
15. Denmark: 60 points
16. Spain: 55 points
17. Albania: 55 points
18. Sweden: 47 points
19. France: 47 points
20. Romania: 45 points
21. Croatia: 44 points
22. Finland: 35 points
23. Germany: 14 points
23. Poland: 14 points
23. United Kingdom: 14 points

It was actually quite a surprise. Some of the favorites to win were Sweden, Latvia, Ukraine, Israel, and Greece but none of them managed to pull it off. As it turns out, Dima Bilan, the artist from Russia also competed for them in 2006 and came second to Lordi. I liked his song then too, so I'm happy he won.

If you're curious, here's the winning song:

Hans and I turned Eurovision into a drinking game to make it a little more interesting. Every time a song changed key, we took a drink. Needless to say, we were totally pissed before it ended.

Now, onto my personal awards for Eurovision songs.

Most Fun: Latvia. I mean, pirates. Come on.

Most Retarded: Bosnia & Herzegovina. Actually, I would give it a tie between them and Spain, but Spain's song was so freakin' retarded that no one bothered to put it on YouTube. Not the live performance, at least. The 'official' video is there but it doesn't count. So Bosnia & Herzegovina wins the Most Retarded Award.

Most Under Appreciated: Croatia. This song was very, very good. In fact, it's the one Hans and I voted for. It just gets better every time you hear it.

Most Frightening: Sweden. Seriously, this chick might very well give me nightmares.

That concludes The Steph Awards. By all rights, Hungary should have made it to the final, but they didn't.

In Norway, we're happy with fifth place. Actually, it's the highest we've come since 2003. We haven't won a Eurovision since 1995 with Nocturne by Secret Garden. (Really awesome song, by the way. Sounds a lot like Princess Fiona's theme from Shrek.)

Eurovision will be in Moscow on May 16 next year. Tune in then for more Steph Awards.

Thus, the above poste doth ende.

feeling lightheaded... and stuff

2008-05-20T19:50:00.004-04:00

Chopped my hair off again. Really short this time. (Lightheaded--get it? Har har.) I like it. It took me all day to come to that conclusion, by the way. Hans says he's not sure, but since I expected him to whine about it even before I cut it, I'm alright with that response. I might dye it if I can find a shade of dark red that I like. Maybe.

Anyways, you've probably noticed the new template, though I suppose if your eyes are sewn shut or a gremlin gouged them out, you may not have. Yeah, I wasn't all that excited about the old one to begin with. I've had dark, dreary templates since way back in Jay's English 112 class in 2005 and I really wanted a brighter, happier one.

Yes, I know the birds are annoying.

The big news for today is that Norway has made it to the Eurovision final this Saturday. That makes us all happy up here since last year we didn't. Two songs that really sucked made it too, but the rest are at least halfway decent so far. Still one semi-final to go this Thursday. Hans wants me to add that our song was written by an American, but I don't find that particularly pertinent to its success, do you? I mean, Christina Aguilera's songs were written by Americans too, but that doesn't exactly give them an anti-suck-ass guarantee.

Aside from that, I made a minor faux pas today. Someone started a thread on WF about sex. Since it's typical that men fall asleep after sex and women want to cuddle and talk, someone directed the question to the gay members on WF. He asked if in gay relationships both guys fall right to sleep or if both women stay up all night talking. I made a post in that thread and forgot to mention that I'm not a lesbian.

Oops.

I caught it after about an hour and a half when I checked back, but still. I had to laugh at myself for a few minutes before I could edit it.

Lastly but certainly not leastly, Oddville is going pretty well. Submissions are--I won't say 'pouring in' but dribbling in, I suppose. It really makes me giddy to be a part of something like this, so I can't wait until we get set in. Someone made the comment that it feels like we're all a part of a literary family--it's great! Those of you that read this that like to write, if you have any friends that you think might be interested, point them in the right direction, would you? Seriously, we rock.

End!

the oddville press

2008-05-16T12:15:00.007-04:00

A few members over at WF decided to put together an e-zine to help WF members, as well as other aspiring writers break into print. It's called The Oddville Press. Anyone--established author or first timer--can submit their work. All we ask is that the work be original, well written, creative and compelling.

Please bear in mind that our site is still under construction, but most of us are so anxious to get the ball rolling that we're already accepting submissions. So, do you like to write? Do you have a few stories saved on your computer that you always wanted to try getting published? If so, you can submit to us--we need material!

"The Oddville Press is an online non-profit magazine dedicated to bringing high quality Fiction, Poetry and Artwork to the forefront. We are committed volunteers with high standards of excellence whose mission is to promote today’s geniuses and tomorrow’s giants."

Submissions should be sent to: submissions@theoddvillepress.com

Our submission guidelines can be found here.

to the boys out there...

2008-05-11T15:46:00.002-04:00

If any of you boys are ever foolish enough to move in with your (in)significant others, if she cooks, the very least you can do is put your effin' plate in the sink.

It's not that hard, I swear.

Or better yet, you could do the dishes. Granted, if you've had a hard day at work and are exhausted, we'll be sympathetic, but if all you've done all day was sit at your computer and chat, fucking do the dishes! Especially if you spent the afternoon whining about when dinner would be ready, and then spent the entire meal whining about the potatoes! (Alright, if they're over-boiled, you can say so, but we only need to hear it once--not 1,858,001 times.)

So, to you boys, be freaking considerate. I know most of you are programmed against such random acts of kindness (that actually require a nanogram of effort on your part), but try giving it a shot. If you can't cook worth a damn, don't cook (unless you like to), but no one was born with a gene that prevents them from putting plates in the sink.

That is all.

a conversation and some rhymey-dimey stuff

2008-05-08T08:36:00.003-04:00

I'll start out with a bit of a conversation I had with Writer last night on MSN.

David says:

So, you and Hans can come over, buy a bunch of used books on the cheap, see the local sights and I'll make you pancakes and back-bacon,

David says:

We'll have a real canadian time

(Steph) "I'm going to wack you in the face with my very big stick!" says:

hahaha

(Steph) "I'm going to wack you in the face with my very big stick!" says:

i may have to use that line one of these days

David says:

We can all drink beer, wear tooks and call each other "hozers"

(Steph) "I'm going to wack you in the face with my very big stick!" says:

wooo!

(Steph) "I'm going to wack you in the face with my very big stick!" says:

then after we've drank all the beer, we can walk through the streets singing O Canada even though i don't know the words

David says:

There I draw the line

It amused me greatly, such that it makes me giggle to look back over it.

Aside from that, I wrote a poem today. I don't write poetry, like, ever. Because I know that 99% of the time, my poetry has about as much literary merit as a pile of cow dung. (Unlike my prose where it's only about 85% of the time.) So, since I actually like this poem and think it's cute, I'm going to post it. It only has one or two crap rhymes. :-P

Who Needs Thirty-one Flavors?

A store presents a mighty riddle:
The ice cream isle is never little.
It’s filled with flavors both old and new
To puzzle, muddle, and befuddle you

Raspberry delight and coffee cream
Are nothing at all like their names would seem.
Maple parfait and peanut butter
Taste like something I know not to utter

Just what happened to the famous three?
The chocolate, vanilla, and strawberry
Is there no child who’d want to partake
Unless they contain a bit of shortcake?

I, myself, am a vanilla girl;
I scoff at toffee or caramel swirl.
What other flavor could e’er compare
To fluffy goodness with a tangy flare?

And if I crave some extra flavor,
It’s easy to make a treat to savor.
Just add some jelly or Oreos;
With vanilla it’s simple—anything goes.

Ice cream makers, it’s you I beseech
Throw out the almond and put down the peach;
Just give me something rich and yummy
To cool my mouth and fill my tummy.

dog days

2008-05-07T10:05:00.002-04:00

This is what I feel like doing today. I'm so bloody demotivated about everything that I just don't know what to do with myself. I keep telling myself that I should write, because I want to get my first draft of this confounded novel done by mid-June so that I can ignore it for the rest of the summer. But when I sit down to do it, the only thing that I manage to type is, "I don't fucking want to do this right now."

The worst thing is that there isn't even anything that I do feel like doing, so I can't even tell myself that I'll just write for X amount of time and then go do the other thing.

That's me right now. Minus the fur. And the claws. And the snout. And the tail. *double checks* Yeah, and the tail.

In other news, my first two attempts to breed the bettas were both resounding failures. The first time, Spike hid from Belle in 15-20 minute increments, gave her a cursory chase around the tank, and then retreated again. I'd intended to try again earlier this morning, but Belle had dropped her eggs some time last night. I had a feeling that was going to happen. Dammit.

I let Aphrodite bite my finger this morning just to see what it would feel like. It hurt a lot more than I thought it would. No blood or missing chunks of flesh or anything, but damn. It felt like I'd pinched the very tip of my finger with a pair of pliers.

Note to self: Don't do that anymore.

Also, I learned that they like to eat earthworms. Hans says I'm mean and immoral for doing so, because they're living creatures after all. I'm going to remind him that mosquitoes are living creatures too when they're biting the hell out of him. I'll sit across the room with a fly swatter and be perfectly content with my immoral self.

In conclusion...

buffet style

2008-05-03T11:16:00.003-04:00

We had a little mishap today that resulted in massive civilian casualties.

Every website and person that I consulted assured me that betta fish can live together with guppies, provided that the guppies don't have long, fancy fins. Since mine are only babies, their fins aren't completely developed yet. Still, I didn't trust Spike enough to leave him alone with my babies.

True, I did have him in the aquarium for a few hours, but I watched him. Yeah, he chased them and poofed at a few of the larger ones, but he never succeeded with any of his murderous attempts. Despite this, I took him out of the aquarium. I mean, his mouth is huge. Huger than my guppies.

Yesterday, Hans and I visited the pet store and ended up leaving with two female bettas. Hans's turquoise dame is Aphrodite, and my blue-red-turquoise chick is Belle. That's right, Spike is a real ladies man now. Except for that fact that you can't put females and males together for any longer than it takes to mate.

Again, based off all the advice I sought that said bettas can coexist with guppies, I put our two females in with the guppies. And I watched them for like two hours. Nothing went amiss. After all, female bettas are much, much smaller and more docile than the males, and their mouths are no where near big enough to gobble a guppy.

This morning I woke up and checked out the fish tank. Belle looked considerably fatter than yesterday and I wondered if perhaps she would be ready to spawn soon. Hans observed that there seemed to be fewer guppies than before. I suggested that they could be hiding. They do that, you know. They hide in the plants, and in the cannon, and behind the filter.

Not five minutes later, I had to conclude that Hans was right--there were fewer guppies in the tank.

With me as a witness, Aphrodite served herself breakfast. It was not a pretty sight. See, even though the females' mouths are too small to swallow the guppies whole, they're not at all above ripping their meal into more edible pieces. Aphrodite grabbed a hold of a baby guppy's head and shook it like a dog shakes a chew toy.

Nine guppies remain out of twenty-one. The female bettas now live in the fishbowl and the male lives in a translucent wash bucket.

I wonder what new and creative ways I can come up with to kill fish in the future.

the winds of change

2008-05-01T06:23:00.002-04:00

It's been about six months since I last changed my blog template, so a change was in order. Some might say that means I'm fickle, but I would disagree. Actually, it's that I give into peer pressure far too easily. Hans changed his template, writer changed his--everyone was doing it! I had to do it too. Couldn't resist.

More than that, I finally upgraded my blog to use a so-called "custom template". The fact that this isn't a custom template any more than my previous templates have been is apparently irrelevant. It's supposed to be more user-friendly so internet idiots somewhat stupider than myself can make changes to their template "with the click of a mouse."

What that means for slightly less-stupid internet idiots who, like me, do know how to edit the HTML of their template (by way of trial and error) is that we're no longer able to do so because of the addition of "widgits" that make this whole thing a kagillion times more complicated.

Moreover, it took me 45 minutes to realize that Admuncher combined with Firefox was causing all the problems. I was so bloody frustrated with it that I considered pestering my favourite lurker to see if he could help (yes, Bazsa, I mean you). But, he wasn't there so I had to figure it out alone, and when I disabled Admuncher and grudgingly launched Internet Explorer, I could actually do all the crap that Blogger said I could. It made me glad that Bazsa wasn't there cus I'd have felt pretty stupid. :P

So, on to what's new. Aside from the obvious aesthetic changes, there really aren't any. I changed the title just because I don't really rant on here anymore. (It annoys my few readers and makes them run and hide.) That's really about it. This new Blogger nonsense is more trouble than it's worth, but I really liked this template.

I think that makes me shallow. Oh well.

Oh, and in other news, I got a betta fish. His name's Spike. He's a gorgeous, irridescent azure color. He looks like he's made of velvet, actually. And he poofs at me. I love it. Interesting to note, betta fish in the states cost about $3, whereas betta fish in Norway cost, like, $15. Not that fifteen dollars is a lot of money, but... damn. I'll buy him a girlfriend in two weeks when I can afford it. Assuming he's still alive in two weeks, that is.

Steph out.

pet store fish mortality rate: 100%

2008-04-26T07:17:00.005-04:00

Six fish bought at the pet store, six fish dead within three months. The irony? Twenty-one baby guppies spawned from a pet store fish, twenty-one baby guppies still alive. Nocturnal perhaps, and strangely obsessed with the stream of water coming out of the filter, but alive.

Name: Pompel
Species: Type of catfish
Lifespan: One month
Cause of death: Speculative, starvation

Name: Pilt
Species: Flying fox
Lifespan: Five weeks
Cause of death: Unknown

Name: Hecate
Species: Guppy
Lifespan: Eight weeks
Cause of death: Postpartum depression

Name: Keto
Species: Guppy
Lifespan: Eleven weeks
Cause of death: Cannibalized by guppy fry

Name: Aysu
Species: Fantail goldfish
Lifespan: Three months
Cause of death: Speculative, spontaneous combustion underwater

Name: Casper
Species: Fantail goldfish
Lifespan: Six weeks
Cause of death: Speculative, peer-pressure

Conclusion: Pet stores sell defective fish so that consumers must constantly replace the dead ones. Fuckers.

I've decided that with the death of Casper only two hours ago and the fact that I now have an unused two-gallon fishbowl, I want a betta. Bettas are fun. The poof at you, and if they had vocal chords, I'm sure they would growl too. How cool is that?

Most importantly: Bettas are supposed to live in bowls! In the wild, they live in stagnant puddles. That means that none of these elitist fish people can speak condescendingly about how it's inhumane to keep a fish in a bowl.

I've also decided that since pet stores are consumer traps, I'm going to try breeding my betta eventually. That seems to be the only way to get fish that don't die for no apparent reason.

Plus, my inner sadist has always wanted to see a showdown between two bettas, but I've never been able to get over that little conscience hurdle. So, if I try to breed them, I have an excuse to put them together, and even cooler still, they're supposed to kick the shit out of each other before they mate! That's how they find a worthy mating partner--one that doesn't die.

Hey, if my fish are going to die anyways, it may as well be on my terms, right?

...right?

dancing in the street at 1 AM!

2008-04-19T20:08:00.003-04:00

As I said to Allison a few minutes ago, I just had a LOT of fun!

I was walking the dog and listening to my MP3 player when the song Questa Notte from last year's Eurovision came on. That song always makes me happy and combined with the fact that I was already in a pretty good mood, I started to dance. There was no one around and therefore no risk of humiliating myself.

Or so I thought.

I was happily ballroom-styling it in the middle of the road when lo and behold--another pedestrian. (You saw that coming, didn't you?) The fun part was, instead of laughing at me or turning around and fleeing for his life, he joined in! He couldn't hear the music so I had to lead, but he was grinning and laughing and was quite a swell dancer.

And if that weren't fun enough, when we stopped dancing do you know what he said to me?

"I hope you speak English."

HA!

Of course then he told me that I was singing out loud when he came across me, which I hadn't realized. Hehe...

Turns out, he's Polish and just visiting Norway until Monday. I think it's the first time I've talked to someone roughly my own age since I left the states. I mean, really talked to someone, not just polite conversation. He was 17. So much fun! He walked with me for about a half hour or so until we got back to where we started and he had to go inside. I wish he were staying in Norway...

Still, I'm happy now. Mucho happy. :D

Because it fits.

2008-04-14T00:55:00.004-04:00

I Should
-Evergrey

Remind me of what you said life had made you do.
What did you do to make all you had fall through?
What forces you to make the choices that you do?
Are we to blame for all the failures that are you?
Or should we blame you?
Should we blame you?

How come we bear the cross that you should?
How come we wear the wounds that you should?
I am confused.
Why is it me who's bleeding?
We never had the chance to make the choice you had.
We were all too young to understand.
Not like you.

I should blame you for the falling rain.
I should blame you for my constant pain.
I should be there to remind you every day.
I should.
I should walk you through the halls of my own fate.
I should let you taste the tears that fell in hate.
I should be there to remind you every day.
I should.

still alive

2008-04-10T16:37:00.003-04:00

Yeah, I'm not dead. Well, I might be, but if you're reading this blog post, it must mean that I haven't cashed in my chips just yet. Or it means you're dead too. One or the other.

I haven't blogged because nothing's happened. I'm not online much because when I am online no one else is.

I've listened to all of my CDs so many times now I've grown sick of nearly all of them. The Beatles still endure though, so that's what I've got on now. I've walked most of the roads in this dinky little town so many times that my shoe prints may well be etched into the pavement. I'm even starting to look forward to my fractured conversations with the old people that I see while outside.

I've read all of the English books at the library worth picking up. Once I finish Eye of the Needle I get to read Angels and Demons for the third time, which is sadly the least-read book I have access to. Yeah, there are Norwegian books available, but the enjoyment is somewhat worn out of them since I read Norwegian so slowly.

I miss Barnes & Noble. Muchly.

But hey, I'm planning a big trip to -- and I use the term lightly -- the 'mall' tomorrow so I can buy a rolling pin. Yeah, a two-kilometer walk, baby. Lord knows how many interesting and exciting things that will happen along the way. I might just see a discarded McDonald's bag, you never know. Any reminder that there really is life outside these streets is wonderful.

God, this is so depressing. I'm just gonna stop. Toodles.

*EDIT*
And because I finally got around to checking blogs this evening, here's a Kartoen that describes me so perfectly.

nya nya!

2008-04-02T12:20:00.004-04:00

April fools has come and past, and you wouldn't believe how seriously these Norwegians take it. Doctors lie to their patients about testing positive for HIV, companies launch commercials that are obvious lies, and my boyfriend posts a blog that gets him on the front page of the biggest Norwegian news website. (The blogging newbie has been launched to almost instant 'stardom' with like 10 000 page views in less than a day.) Would you believe it?

The blog is in Norwegian, so I'll tell you what it's about (though the pictures make it obvious enough). He claims that Jesus Christ has returned and that the whole thing was going to be broadcast on CNN (last night). I don't think anyone really believed the joke, but they sure found it amusing (or upsetting, since Hans received several lecturing Emails about how some things shouldn't be joked about). Needless to say, he is quite satisfied and currently telling everyone about it. (Hey, I probably would too.)

And about what I mentioned in the first paragraph, I wasn't kidding. Some Norwegian doctor really did tell a patient that he tested positive for HIV, and let the poor guy sit in the waiting room for several minutes before he came in and announced "April fools!"

Also, one of the Norwegian power companies made a commercial stating that Norway was the first country to harness the power of star energy which will totally revolutionize the world as we know it.

We're not that bad in the states, are we? I haven't noticed it, at least...

so you're intrigued, are you?

2008-04-01T00:58:00.001-04:00

At long last I've decided to write the dreaded 'about me' page for any curious kitties out there.

Before I was born, my eternal soul (which clearly isn't as intelligent as I like to pretend) decided that I should be born in a place that has more characteristics of a black hole, rather than a city. That is, of course, if you believe in that sort of thing. I don't, so I suppose it's a moot point.

In any event, I was born and raised in a hope-leeching town called New Castle, Pennsylvania. Things, both good and bad, happened there. I made some excellent friends, learned some valuable lessons, lost a house to a fire, nearly lost a father to a car accident, and found out that life has a tendency to continue throwing hardship in your face while pointing and laughing maliciously.

Above all, I've learned that you have to find something to smile about no matter what happens. When your house burns down, you have to laugh when the fireworks in the attic start exploding and create a spectacular backdrop to a tragedy.

After high school, I left New Castle temporarily to live near Cincinnati while I went to my one and only year of university at Miami University. I dropped out a year later because I couldn't pull another thirty grand out of my rear end and landed back in New Castle once more.

Roughly two years and many meaningless, minimum wage jobs later, I moved again. To Norway. Why, you ask? Because my father kicked me out of his house and I knew nothing would piss him off so much.

An impulsive decision, yes, but one I don't regret.

In Norway, I decided to--if you'll pardon the pun--try my hand at writing. I wrote an entire novel before I found my voice and learned how to write. For the time being, I'm piling up rejection slip after rejection slip because that's what this business is all about. I hear they make good wallpaper.

I'm also a junior editor for a small online magazine, because it's simply not enough to be on the receiving end of rejection notices. To feel truly fulfilled and satisfy you inner sadist, you have to send them out as well.

Whether or not I meet success, I intend to return to America one day soon. Norway is a wonderful, wonderful country full of breathtaking landscapes and fantastic people, but no matter how long I stay here, I don't feel it'll ever be home. Plus I find it immensely more satisfying to verbally bash people in English. There's just something about calling a person a dust or a drittsekk that doesn't quite ring true...

I hope I've enlightened you in some way about myself and my personal idiosyncrasies. Or at the very least, I hope I've not scared you off.

Um... hello? ...no one?

Aw, shucks.

phonebook!

2008-03-28T16:09:00.000-04:00

This is just incredible, so I had to share it.

CONSTANT VIGILANCE!

2008-03-24T05:07:00.001-04:00

Anybody else think that's the most brilliant line J. K. Rowling ever wrote? Well, not so brilliant on its own, but completely wonderful in context.

That's not the point though. The point is I'm bored and I haven't done a real blog post in awhile now. Not that it matters, or that I really care, but it'll kill some time.

So since you're all just dying to know what's new, I'll tell you.

I got another referral on the writing forum, aside from Allison. I have no idea who it is, but it excites me greatly.

Easter was boring beyond all reason, but it always is. On an interesting note, they don't do the whole Easter bunny thing here (thank god) but they do get cardboard eggs and stuff them with candy and hide them. Even more interesting is the fact that I don't really like candy, but Hans still managed to get me the only two Norwegian chocolate things that I do like. 'Course it wasn't too hard since he was standing there when I saw the price of said candy and launched into a rant about how everything is so god-damned expensive here.

Also, my goldfish died. My white one. The damn thing was alive and happy yesterday at 2 PM when I fed them, and then it was belly-up two hours later. That means that every fish we bought from the pet store originally is now dead, and you know what makes that even more funny? The pet store lady told us that half of our guppy babies would probably die, and yet all 21 of them are very much alive. We have one goldfish left that we just bought a couple weeks ago, but as I said to it yesterday, "Sorry Casper, but your days are evidently numbered."

When it dies I'm getting a hamster. Damn it all to hell.

And now I have a question. Is curly hair contagious? See, my hair has never, ever, ever, EVER been curly. And it's never been able to hold curls either. I had it permed when I was 14 or something, and all the curls fell out within three days of said perm. But a few days ago, I got out of the shower, trimmed my hair a little, let it dry, and IT CAME OUT CURLY.

I thought it was just a one-day thing. Freak accident. I was wrong. No matter how many times I wash it, brush it, or style it, my hair remains quite curly. On that same note, Hans's hair is also quite curly. Have I been infected with the curly hair cutie...?

I actually kind of like it, and I would post a picture if I had batteries for my camera. It's just weird is all. Twenty-one years of straight, slightly wavy hair and then all of a sudden, massive curls. Who woulda thunk it?

End.

just a question

2008-03-21T01:05:00.000-04:00

If Hillary becomes president, what's that make Bill?

someone stole my title -- the bastard.

2008-03-15T08:32:00.001-04:00

I read my horoscope when I'm bored. I've been bored lately. Naturally, this means that I've read my horoscope a lot. Thing is, it's been spot-on a few times. Yeah, I know. Even a broken watch is right twice a day.

As a general rule, I only read it at the end of the day before I go to sleep (like now). That way, it's not like a power-of-suggestion sort of thing. However, I was really bored the day before yesterday and I checked the overview of the month.

It said the 9th and 10th would be bad days, and yes, they were. Very bad days. It said the 12th-14th would be very good days. Holy cow, they were! It said I would be social this month by getting active in a new online group. *gasp!* That's right too! It says the 17th will be a great day and that some time during the month, I'm going to get a large sum of money.

'Course that's relative. To someone as poor as me, a large sum of money is anything over $10. So who knows? (Hans bought me a book today, I wonder if that counts...)

Then today's horoscope said I would be spending a lot of energy thinking about money and that's not right at all. The only money that I've thought of today was "Holy shit, 30 crowns for a small package of cookies? That's fucking crazy!" (30 crowns = about 6 dollars) So there goes my hope for that large sum of money bit coming true.

However, I do get to eat said cookies tomorrow though (turns out they were 3 for the price of 2 -- packages, that is, not individual cookies). I wonder if my horoscope says anything about that.

Well, guess that's about it for me. There is so little going on in my life right now. Although, some of my guppy children are starting to turn green, and you needn't point out how sad it is that that's my highlight for the week. I already know.

Peace out.

i did good!

2008-03-08T15:26:00.000-05:00

So I'm currently listening to Therion's Gothic Kabbalah album for the third consecutive time so I can drown out the sound of Norwegian babbling ski commentating. Why Hans likes that stuff... Oh well.

But now I get to tell you how I did good! It's not often that I actually have something to brag about so bear with me. Remember I told yins about that writing forum I joined? Well, I've been on another one for months now, but I never bothered to mention it. Why? Well, rather than a nice, encouraging atmosphere, the people on this forum are just brutal. Not that I don't gain from it, but I wouldn't recommend it to anyone who didn't have an inner sadist.

So anyways, I was just kind of playing around with an idea I've had for like a year or something and decided to write it. I didn't want to post it on the "good" forum because most people there don't like present tense writing, so I decided to go out on a limb and post it on the other. I just wanted to know if the experiment was at all worth it.

And holy crap, people liked it. Really. No one ripped it up. A few people picked at some nits but nothing like the brutality I'm used to seeing on there.

So yeah, that made me happy. Honestly, I don't have any intentions of writing anything like that ever again, because I'm rather certain that my success was just beginner's luck. Still though. Made me smile.

If you're bored, you may check it out. (Read: You damn well better check it out because I'm friggin' proud of it!) It's short. About half a page in MS Word.

In other news, I've disproved a long-standing truth. "You can't teach an old dog new tricks." Oh yes you can. I have an old dog. And my old dog hasn't been taught any tricks. Like, ever. Hans did once taught her to sit but she only did it when she had a very clear incentive.

Now, our old dog sits on command, lays down, sits up, and gives paw. I have high hopes for 'roll over'. Granted, it took two months to master those basic tricks, and she still does every single them in a succession any time you hold food, regardless of whether or not you've given her any command.

We're still working on that part. She is old, after all. It's still progress.

That's it for me. Steph out.

why do i suck at sleeping?

2008-03-02T03:21:00.002-05:00

Well, it's about nine in the morning and I haven't slept yet. I tried my best but failed. Sucks. I'm gonna give it another shot after I waste the next 15-20 minutes typing this post though. Cross your fingers.

Sooo... what's new with me? I've become oddly addicted to the song Black Velvet by Alannah Myles. I could post the YouTube link here for yins to have a look-see, but really, what would be the point of that? I don't think Leigh would like it, it's usually a toss up as to whether Allison likes songs with female singers, I have no clue what kind of stuff Writer likes, and Mike may very well already know the song and maybe even like it.

As to the lurkers, if they really wanna check it out, I'm sure they know how YouTube works. Oh, and speaking thus, to my favourite lurker: Bazsa, you won't like it either. Not that I would really expect you to run off and listen to it either, but you never know. :)

Anyways, I've joined two new things lately. One I adore, and one I mostly hate, but it passes the time. A writer's forum and Yahoo Answers. You can probably guess which of the two I find annoying. I'll give you a hint, it kinda almost maybe sorta rhymes with kazoo panthers. And that almost brings to mind funny mental pictures. But not really.

Moving right along, the writer's forum is in a word: awesome. Number one, I learn so much more about editing my own work by editing the work of others. Number two, the people on it don't really know me so they don't have to worry about hurting my feelings. Number three, I don't have to pester the hell out of people who, frankly, have better things to be doing with their time.

By the way, Mike, this doesn't exempt you from giving me your opinion on those 5 pages I sent you. You don't have to rip it apart like I asked, though. A simple "Hey, this ain't half bad" or "Yeah, this is crap" will suffice. Your month is just about over, I believe. :P

Just kidding, just kidding. I know you're, like, wicked busy.

This post has become like a one-sided conversation with several people at once. That's kinda not what I intended, but hell, I never talk to any of you anymore. I mean, last talked to Leigh at... what was it? Christmas? Anyways again, enough of the one-sided shit.

Returning to my derailed train of thought, yins should check out said writing forum, maybe even register. Allison already did, if only to call me a dork and scamper away, but we love her. There's this thing about referrals that gives me... uh... a number in my profile that does me absolutely no good. So go sign up, I say! I love pointless numbers!

Forum!

I already have one, which is odd as I've never given this link out to anyone before. Hell, I just found the damn thing a few hours ago. So... yeah. I have a stalker, then. Those are fun.

And as I said, I've slaughtered 20 innocent minutes. Good day to you all!

Your Not-So-Subliminal Message of The Day: GoSignUpOnTheForumAndGiveMeAnotherPointlessNumber!