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Mother called, again.

Some old biddy aunt of mine isn't doing well. Might have to put her down, if she doesn't come around soon. Them's the breaks, I tell mom, and she audibly cringes three hundred miles away. I have been her enemy for years.

Once, when my father was passed out (before he left this earth in a typical fit of blinding rage), I had given him a hotfoot. Only I had used too many matches at once, and his whole sock caught on fire. He was up out of the chair pretty fast, stamping it out as best he could - I just gaped - and mama came in and threw a bucket of water on his feet. Ever since then, she's kept one eye on me at all times.

I suppose she has her reasons.

After mother's call, I went for a walk. It was nearly one oh two on the thermometer, but I was in a restless mood. Saw two kiddies with their lemonade stand. Waved. They hesitantly waved back. Then I gave them the finger.

One of them kept waving, oblivious; the other sensed my disdain and stopped smiling. It took a lot for me not to run and overturn the whole thing. Lousy kids, hijacking every cotton mouth on the block. Ought to be laws.

Or ought to be no laws.

Finally reached a good stopping point, the place in the woods where there's always a squirrel or raccoon hanging about. Nothing today but a turtle - infinite series of distances or not, he was an easy catch, choosing not to struggle. Snapper shells make good target practice: hard to break, 'bout the right size, easy to stand up.

The stand was gone when I came back. I think I saw the curtains ruffle. Good. This system ain't big enough for the two of us anyway.

Maybe I'll make tea. Just a hint of vanilla and some Pepperidge Farms Milanos. Sleep has become a weakness. The caffeine will do me good. Too easy to hit that snooze, gonna have to invest in an electroshock outfit or something. Hit the stores tomorrow.

This weekend will be the first mailing. Maybe I'll set up a camera, to take pictures. Only if caution allows. That box near the library takes big packages. Hope it gets a little cooler, or that's gonna be a long walk ...

Dear E2,

What is it about you that still makes me horny? Why do I check you every day even if but a passing glance (sometimes I think you take longer to load than to give it a look-see)? Why do I have so many nodes in their baby stages sitting in my E2 tab in keynote? Why do I suddenly find myself staring at the illustrious E2 poster (now placed front-and-center on my-our bedroom door) and having flashbacks to a basement, some saran wrap, a blue inflatable couch and some other quite odd twisted warped memory type things? I haven't sinned so much in such a long time. Sigh. The burners and the noders both were infectious (and in many cases are one and the same).

I feel guilty when I write on livejournal, I do. It's just so much easier, there's a burden of responsibility to carry here. I'm too lazy to do all the links research most times, and plus, I really want to post well thought out nodes here and I'm only writing on livejournal because I'm too lazy to put together a pay website of whatever it is I can dream up, anyway

I remember when E2 used to be my first point of research when I was confronted with an unfamiliar term. I know I still want to contribute to the knowledge base because E2 will almost always have all the answers. And if they don't, you have a new task at your hands, it becomes a game.

Do I sound ridiculous?
(I am smoking FAR too much herb these days, it once was therapeutic)

Besides, I really do want a picture in my homenode, and I feel like I've been here long enough and I should finally work for it. (The petty motivations I live for these days) :) I also work to earn "stars," but that's a different topic.

I'm going back to SCHOOL in the fall FULL TIME after having dropped out of college in '96 or so. I'm going to be taking Organic Chemistry, Mathematics for Health Sciences (dosaging conversions and whatnot), Psych 101 (Which I'd really like to CLEP out of, but I'd have a month to do it so I could take the next psych instead), english 201, and public speaking.

(I'm an idiot because I had an Inc on public speaking at my prior college that I never finished and I used to TEACH impromptu speaking classes when I was an uber high cadet officer in the Civil Air Patrol (which is a fine organization for your youth to be in, so long as they live in an area where they get to FLY in airplanes A LOT or have a really smart, good, sharp State drill team). I support youth being in militaristic organizations wholeheartedly! I'm quite liberal and I survived it. Of course, I didn't get my tongue pierced until I was 18. But I had a DAMN good command voice.)

My friend says I'm screwed with Org Chem because I don't have Chemistry as a prerequisite and I absolutely dislike Chemistry to begin with. But Org Chem I'm open minded about. What do you think? Have any of you ever taken Org Chem without Chemistry first? And, should I take psych 101 as a mostly-internet course? Do I stand a chance of pulling an A? (Oh yeah, I didn't mention. I have to get Straight A's for the first time in my entire life as a straight C student because Nursing programs and scholarships (I want to transfer to NYU on scholarship for my bachelors) are so competitive). Wish me luck. I think I'm mature enough to pull this off. If I make this my top priority above all else, right?

I'm sure I'm going to need a tutor. Any volunteers? :) Actually, I could pay some moderate amount for the right tutor.

I've been getting piercing business lately! WooT! It's been really slow for me since I moved to the shop in Brooklyn but I've been getting all these kids from a Pratt orientation dropping by for the past couple of weeks.

I'm thinking about getting a keith haring design tattooed on the inside of my elbows...They would be major, my most visible tattoos. It's just a bold outline of a guy bending over and his reflection, but it leaves a good portion of my skin open (like, where they draw blood) and looks like a cool geometric pattern on the side. I walked around with messy tattoo stencil versions on my arms today and I'm pretty psyched about it. I haven't decided what it means yet, though. I think that's my hesitation. It's in a spot you can't help meditate your eyes on, right over the flow in your arm... I feel they would be a significant step towards me being an "openly tattooed" person, whatever that means. I have short hair and my neck is tattooed, but it's easier to pre-judge a person from behind than when confronted by their primary image.

The kanji and iching on my wrists are kinda hidden with a bend. This would extend slightly up my forearm and "cuff" around the forward visible portion of the arm. Got it? Once I know my medical terminology I'm gonna wizzow you! :)

I'm not going to be the fisting girl forever, ya know. It's going to be "Nurse, your tattooed fist is up my ass!"

Anyway, I think the haring pieces give the intended hinge effect I had originally desired. And I really heart Keith Haring. If you'd like to witness me get the inside joint of my arms tattooed, let me know. You're more than welcome. I'm curious to see how it's going to feel myself.

Speaking of Keith, Why isn't Kenny Scharf noded? Why, the man is still alive and making insanely overstimulating and tireless psychedelic art! He's inspired me, but someone quick! Do your homework on him! He's awesome! And if you can't find anything perverse on him I think it mentions orgies or something in the K.H. bio I have. ;)

Life living with a lover (and roommates) is interesting, but I've been rather creative lately nontheless. :) I plan on putting together an art show of some sort within a year's time of whatever crap I can think of putting together and calling thematically related and aesthetically pleasant. I think I can pull it off. The kicker is that I learn to PAINT at the last minute, and knock out some sellable pieces in the 24 hours prior to the opening. Yeah, that's it. My Sagg luck will pull it off. I'll call it "His Penis is Commanding" and not include a single vaginal reference. Actually, I was thinking of calling it

"Reflections of a childhood spent ordinary"

Catchy title, eh? *wink* Well, it all starts with a hypothesis, right? And my hypothesis is that I can do anything. Except quit smoking cigarettes, apparently.

And with that, I have to go to bed now. My workday today begins at 4pm (saturday) and ends at 8am (sunday).

0829 edt: shit, i still have to link

0843 Edt
Love,
Dee

So yesterday Major League Baseball weakly laid down the proverbial smack on Albert Pujols. It was more like a light tap on the wrist. He was suspended two games for his conduct on July 13 2003, where he almost initiated a brawl after getting hit by a pitch. Greg Bennett, the Padres catcher who incited Pujols, as well as Padres manager Bruce Bochy are both receiving fines for their actions. Bennett for igniting Pujols, and Bochy for saying unkind things about the Umpire and his mother. That's it?

Let's just ignore he fact that all these shenanigans went down in the first inning of a game between the two, putting a pallor on the entire game. Let's ignore the fact that Pujols was hit intentionally, for a stupid reason. Let's ignore the fact that the manager didn't get fined for that, and the pitcher got off scott-free. Was baseball justice served here? It has not. Yes, Albert Pujols is a great player, but everyone has to play by the rules here; everone equal before the law, right?

The funny part about this entire thing is, even though his actions were caught on film and displayed in every highlight show around the US of A, Pujols is appealing the decision. Now, in the legal world, if one think one got a raw deal on a court case, they can appeal to the courts, and their trial can be looked at and maybe they could be granted a new trial. I fail to see the point of appealing in this scenario. He hit Bennett, it's on tape. Hell, he did it infront of 30,000 fans plus who knows how many on live television; what's there to appeal?

I'm trying desperately to avoid going on a rant about lawyers and the legal system here, it's a bit difficult, but I'll manage. Pujols has no reason to appeal anything. He should be able to control himself and act accordingly. If anything, more fines and punishment should be doled out, not less. Why wasn't the pitcher, Adam Eaton, fined for his actions? He, very obviously, hit Pujols on purpose. I thought the Major Leagues frowned on this sort of thing. If they're trying to put an end to retaliation, they sure are going about it the wrong way.

Then again, why would they want to put an end to it? If you ask any Boston Red Sox fan who the two biggest rivalries the Sox have going currently, you'd get the obvious answer of The Devil's Bitches and the Tampa Bay Devil Rays. Yup, the D-Rays. While they have problems coming up with winning seasons, they have no problem being a nuisance for the Bosox. All it took was one good brawl, and a heated rivalry was formed. Rivalries are the only reason there's a market for Professional Wrestling, so why shouldn't Major League Baseball be all for stuff like this? When the Padres come back to St. Louis, people are going to be talking about it. People might even tune in just to see what's gonna happen this time around, as everyone remembers what happened last time.

While the play of the team should be the main factor in selling tickets, or getting people to watch a ballgame, this is not always the case. Fenway will always sell out for the Yanks, as will Pac Bell Stadium when the Arizona Diamondbacks come into town, or Wrigley Field when St. Louis shows up. The team rivalry is a beautiful thing and an essential part in any sport. Save the fisticuffs for hockey, please, I just want to see baseball.

sleep-deprived stream of thought

We live in an age where thousands upon thousands of people from all corners of the world can gather together on this internet type thing and communicate and share bits of themselves.

What is interesting about this is, the skeptic in me always feels that most of the people I encounter are, in some way or another, lying about themselves. The strange thing is, I also believe that on this site, most of you are almost a little too honest about yourselves.

Every time I log in I am blown away by someone's candor here. I am blown away by how easy some of you make it seem, to just carve out your words into space and share with us a piece of yourselves.

It also makes me wonder if sometimes I also seem too outspoken about aspects of my life. I wonder if maybe in some ways, I have also shut tight my house to the outside. I don't know which way is better. Maybe I'm not meant to know.

Writing is a rather exhaustive process for me; I throw too much of myself into it so that if you are crafty, you can see that even my fictional pieces contain a piece of myself. I don't know why it is this way with me; it just always has been. Perhaps it's because growing up, it was drilled into me to be tough and show no form of volatile emotions. Paper and pencil were my only tools to express what was going on inside my head. Perhaps that is part of the appeal of this place, and the internet in general; it is by far easier for me to jot it all down than to express it all vocally. I don't know if that is a good thing. I don't believe it is.

I don't really know where I was going with this rather haphazard train of thought.

Here are some true things:

Tomorrow is my birthday. I will be twenty-seven.
I love the ocean. It makes me ache.
I can't remember the last time I had a good night's rest.
I have always been rather clumsy, it came from growing too fast. People used to joke that my name was a farce. I have only in recent years learned to overcome this clumsiness.
I have two children whom I adore.
I have one husband, whom I love (would have to, as prospect of marriage was a terrifying one for me).
I tend to base food preferences on texture more than taste.
I am still tired.

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