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FRI 5.30.03 @ 7:56pm
Random thoughts of the day:
I think I have finally lost my mind. Coral's fish smells good. I hate fish.
The only way I could lust after an iPod more would be if it vibrated. *ahem*
For someone who loves words, why is my vocabulary so small?
The CNN Breaking News report sitting in my Inbox that I was momentarily too terrified to open cannot be telling me that my husband's plane has blown up, because his flight does not leave for another 5 hours.
What does "shipper" mean, in terms of fanfic? If I am a Willow/Tara shipper, does that mean I "ship" some product to my readers, ie: a new story? The new language teens are developing is getting harder and harder to decipher. Something I read the other day makes me think it could be 'ship, as in I (wor)ship lesbian sex. Hmmm... Just as long as they dOn"T tYpE lIkE tHis or ask "howRU?", I think I'll be fine.
Jell-O brand "Pudding Bites" sounds like a good idea, but in the end it's just a pudding flavored gummy-bit. ewwww
I am an "excellent speller"! I got 8 out of 10 right!
Omigod, Richard Chamberlain is gay!
I hope my husband comes home safe, sound, & soon.
THU 5.29.03 @ 8:44pm
I feel a divine sense of peacefulness in this neighborhood. When I turn onto our street, a magical feeling of calm takes over me. There are often children riding bikes in the road, mothers pushing strollers as they jog by, or someone walking a dog. The speed limit is 30, and I like to go 25, which is very unlike myself. This place is just so calm and quiet, it just takes me over.
From my 2nd floor office "space", I have these large windows that I like to gaze out of. You can just catch a glimpse, a smidgen, of the Olympic Mountains. When I look in that direction, I can almost convince myself that the house across the street isn't there, and all I can see then is tree tops. A bit of trees in front of me, then some sort of dip in a valley, and then they spring up on the other siide about a mile away. After which there must be another valley, because beyond that wall of trees, all there is is sky. Usually with some sort of grayish tint because it's so near the smog line and it hasn't rained in a few days. But sometimes blue. Often pinkish or purple, because I don't usually come up until after the sun has started its descent.
There is nothing sweet about the air. Nothing ravishing about those trees. I can blot out those mountains by putting my thumb out at arms length in front of my eyes. There are always dogs barking, children screaming, lawn mowers running, or just my own silly cat begging for his attention.
But I love this place. I want to sit and stare until my eyes go numb. I want to count every blade of grass in my overgrown jungle of a yard. I want to somehow reach out and touch that sky, with it's little smears of puffy, pink-hued clouds.
So calm and ordinary. And so magical.
MON 5.27.03 @ 9:29pm
I had somewhat of a boring weekend, but that's really how I prefer them. I like to sleep in late, eat food that's bad for me, watch movies, and stay up too late. I did all of these things, so the weekend was a success! I also cleaned a little, so my husband didn't think I was completely useless.
On Friday, we went to go see The Matrix Reloaded a 2nd time. I am definitely going to be buying that on DVD when it comes out, and watching it a bazillion times. It's just an amazing film, as was the first. I'm so glad they put the effort into it, and didn't hack it.
I did want to say something about the giant cave-rave (hehe, I made a funny!). My husband believes that this scene was extraneous and very much unnecessary (those things mean the same thing, don't they...). I read somewhere that Reloaded was about Life, and that Revolutions will be about Death. This scene was very much about Life, and was an important Character Development scene: development of the human race.
I'm not quite sure how to express myself, except to say that I've long held that the only kind of religion I could ever enjoy would be one that simply celebrated life, and did so through dance and sex. Dancing and sex are primal, and they're about life. This scene demonstrated that, with some very sexy dancing (lots of nipple shots!), a lovely tribal beat, and Trinity and Neo consummating their relationship for our viewing pleasure. It was a moving, thrilling scene. I thought it was a little long, but certainly not extraneous.
Uh-oh, I think I just came out as a hedonist. Don't tell my family!!! ;)
Also this weekend, I watched FIVE movies, four of them for the first time. Anna and The King was on ABC, High Fidelity was on The Comedy Channel, and we rented About A Boy, Darkness Falls, and Femme Fatale. Go check out my reviews!
Finally, is it a mondegreen* or a Freudian slip? There's a song that's kinda popular on C89 that I believe is called "At The End" by someone named Iio. I'm pretty sure I'm wrong, but the first time I paid attention to the lyrics, I swear this is what I heard in the chorus:
i don't mean to
when i hurt you
but i need to
i assure you.
it's not easy
when i'm crazy
at the end you're
still my only
Every time I hear that song, I think of Eric and what a fucked up person I am and how it affects our relationship. But I keep on loving him, because he keeps on loving me. Well, plus other stuff. But I don't want to get all mushy. I just thought I'd give you a little peak at Mysie's psyche. ciao.
*I found that word in the 5/23 @ 8:47am post here, but for some reason it's not letting me link to individual posts. Hmmm...
THU 5.22.03 @ 10:13pm
All is right with the world: I have red hair again. OK, maybe not everything, but it sure is nice to be a redhead again. It just makes me feel sexier.
The only other thing to report is that we have our DSL back, and will shortly be running a wireless network to boot. Life is that boring, I had to tell you that. I dyed my hair out of sheer boredom. I might redesign my site just because of it. Except that that would require effort and thought. Bah.
I dreamed about Godzilla last night.
This reminds me of the summer when I was 12, and I spent most of it bored out of my mind. I would write in my diary everyday nonetheless, and there are many entries where I merely write "I am bored" over & over again, occassionally alternating the handwriting for kicks.
Possibly less boring than this lame entry is my review of Secretary. *shrug* Not like anyone reads this anyway.
WED 5.21.03 @ 10:28pm
what an odd day. I was plugging along at work, when I started to feel a headache coming on. I was a Good Girl and took my cocktail of Excederin and Advil within minutes of the first inkling. I took my lunch. Food + relaxation + drugs = (usually) feeling better within 1 hour. Yet, within an hour I felt like SHIT. My head was throbbing, and I couldn't think. I kept plugging away, thinking the drugs would eventually kick in. At 3pm, I left work. I came home, took more drugs, and laid down with the intention of sleeping it off. Food + drugs + sleep = feeling 80-99% better upon waking.
I couldn't sleep. I was amazingly drowsy. I tossed and turned for an hour. And had weird, weird trains of thought that just wouldn't die. Mostly, I thought about Kenna, my alter-ego vampire chickie. I thought about the story I wrote about her in college, and how I'd always wondered what happened to her next. And I plotted something out.
So I got up and wrote it down. For about 5 hours. Straight. Now ask me how long it's been since I've written anything five hours straight? I have no fucking clue, but I'm guessing at least 3 or 4 years. Holy shit.
For some reason, no one at Deviantart has ever marked any of my pieces as a "Favorite", despite all sorts of odd things by other people getting favorited a bazillion times a day there. I've only ever gotten a handful of comments over 50+ entries, and I would never want anyone to Favorite me if they didn't really like the submission. But I've never had a reader of mysie.com join (only takes a minute!) and even leave me a comment. I must have no regular readers or something. OK, 2 confirmed. That's it. I get 40-90 hits a week, and no one ever signs the guestbook, so they must all just be random.
Anyway, other than feeling pretty unloved (thus stooping to begging for comments), I'm really feeling satisfied with myself for writing something. Even if it's crap. Because I decided a few years ago that I really have to just write, even if it's just crap, or I'll never write anything at all. But a comment or two on my work wouldn't hurt ya, right? I mean, the least you could say would be "how interesting". Right? RIGHT????
In case you didn't notice them, here are some INVALUABLE links I just know you'll LOVE to visit SOON:
Guestbook
Kenna (the original short story)
Kenna - A Conclusion (of sorts)
mysie.deviantart.com (for all those other groovy things I've submitted)
TUE 5.20.03 @ 10:12pm
Well, I didn't get everything accomplished that I wanted to today, but I finally found the time to email Heather despite a more-busy-than-usual day at work. Then I came home and removed the remaining tent caterpillars that I missed this morning. Various websites claim the best thing to do is just prune the area the nest is at when it's cold and/or wet, which it was this morning and this afternoon. I got most of them, so yay me! And no, owning a yard isn't just hard. It's also rewarding. The roses that I'm not thrilled about inheriting from the previous owner are starting to bloom. I made my own tiny pot of an herb garden for the backporch, and I highly doubt any drunken frat boys will be by this weekend to steal it in the middle of the night. Plus, I removed the stupid baby pine trees the woman had planted by the front door, and installed my favorite flowering plant of all time: Lantana. I adore those things. They are blooming nicely. They look a little wimpy for the spot, but they grow a few feet tall in Hawaii, so I'm sure in a year or two they'll look much better there. But, of course, I'm "Mysie with a guilty conscience", so I couldn't just throw out the baby trees. I replanted them in odd places around the yard. *sigh* Why baby pines? Won't they grow up to be humungous? I don't want huge fucking trees in the middle of my yard, let alone right next to the front door! What was this woman thinking???
Anyway, before the evening festivities commenced, I hammered out that review of The Matrix Reloaded. Go check it out. I am so damned wordy, I know. I will try to lower the word limit for Secretary, I promise (maybe).
Then we watched the series finale of Buffy *sob!!!* and the season finale of 24. Buffy went out with a bang, and she didn't die, but those they did kill didn't make a whole bunch of sense. And I thought it was an odd place to end a series. It was such a positive ending, like there would be more to come right around the corner, so why end? I'll miss it, that's for sure. But supposedly they renewed Angel, so at least I can get my fix of the Buffyverse for another year.
The season finale of 24 (not Series Finale, which Eric was expecting) resolved some stuff and set up the next season rather obviously. Pity, Kim lived out the whole fucking season. That dense bitch. Eric claimed that cybernetic cougars were going to invade CTU to kill her ass, but he must have just been toying with me. Dammit.
TUE 5.20.03 @ 9:04am
Holy fuck I had a CRAZY-WEIRD dream! There was an intruder in my house (not this house) who turned out to be my own personal stalker, who by the end of the dream was being played by Jonathan from "Buffy The Vampire Slayer". Eww! OK, eww, because I had to kiss him. EWWWWWWW!!! Blech. Anyway, there were also giant wolves who could break through windows to get in the house. Which is very odd, because I just dreamed about said wolves doing said thing a few weeks ago... And I dreamed about my hamster. That I couldn't put him down because his house was broken, so I was carrying him everywhere and MAN was he upset with me. He was biting me and everything. And I'm like *dude*! I'm trying to save your life here by not putting you down in strange places (I had lots of places to be). Scampie did not understand English at the time, but in the end when I got him a new house, he showed his pleasure with his new digs complete with swimming pool and train tracks (um???) by calling me "Pop". Like I was his dad.
Told you it was crazy-weird.
MON 5.19.03 @ 9:57pm
I know, I am an evil rat-bastard who never updates her blog. *sigh* I've been busy, but also just putting shit off. Like I have 2 movie reviews I really want to write, just never right now. Grr. Anyway, I downloaded both Graymatter AND Moveable Type, so I could investigate which to go with later. But first I need to write those reviews and post them. Then investigate. THEN I can see what needs to happen to use one or the other. All I know is, I opened the MT folder, and I don't even see a program, just a bunch of annoying windows-type items, and I'm rolling my eyes and groaning. I specifically looked at both places and NEITHER said anything about not working on Macs. I know a couple of Mac users who use Gray Matter, so maybe that's why, because MT doesn't support Mac (even though their site doesn't say that?). Um, anyway, this is turning into a run-on paragraph, so I'll cut it short.
Promise to write those reviews (The Matrix Reloaded and Secretary) in the next 48 hours, and not spend all my free time doing stupid online quizzes, like the 10 anime-related ones I did today during my lunch. *hehe*
ps: owning a yard sucks. we have tent caterpillars. woo-hoo! the thing they never tell you when you're looking to buy a house, is that you're constantly throwing money at it. FOREVER AFTER. hmph. Reminds me of a comic I once saw, of two guys side by side at a marina taking care of their boats. One is lovingly working on his, the other is just throwing a bucket of money at his. There's like a talk-bubble over his head where he's telling the other guy that he's found an easier way to deal with his boat. Anyway, that's what owning a house is like. No matter how much money you throw at it, sooner or later (or sooner), it'll need to eat some more. *sigh*
TUE 5.13.03 @ 10:20pm
Not really much to report here, just working and dealing with 2 migraines in 2 days. Why on earth did I schedule my doctor's appt almost 2 months out??
Otherwise, I've just been watching tv, and writing up movie reviews. I mentioned 2 in the last long entry, and I just finished up one for Disney's Treasure Planet. I liked it better the 2nd time around (on DVD) than I remembered. So go read that review, or my reviews of X2 and/or Identity.
SAT 5.11.03 @ 12:52pm
Well, another weekend almost over without anything major accomplished. I spent most of my time under some weird cloud of boredom/depression/non-motivation. It's been a frustrating couple of days, mental-health wise. So what follows is a really long rant. If you don't care to read it, go ahead and read some movie reviews I just wrote: Identity and X2.
Friday was turning out to be a good day. I've been in a really good mood the last few Fridays. I get alot done at work because my morale is so high in anticipating the weekend. Plus, I had called the SIFF box office to make sure that when I came down, they could sign me up for membership and then instantly sell me my tickets. Yay! Then, as I was leaving work, my cell phone rang, and it was Eric, telling me he could meet me at Pacific Place afterall. Double Yay! That meant an evening together of dinner and movie.
But when we got to the PP movie theater, there was no SIFF box office. The staff didn't know why it wasn't there. They thought it didn't start selling tickets until next week. I kept assuring them that it did start selling to the general public the next week, but were supposed to have started selling to members the day before. While they kept using their walkie-talkies to try to get a manager with answers, I sent Eric out to scope out the building on a hunch that maybe they had grabbed a vacant room to use as a box office. He returned shortly to confirm that the box office was 2 floors down. I thanked the theater staff for their attempts to help, and walked out with my husband cursing SIFF for having me on the phone and not telling me WHERE to go at Pacific Place, considering the last two years in a row they've had their booth in the movie theater.
So we get downstairs, and there's no signs or anything telling you what to do. So I get in line behind all the other people. A guy comes along a few times and asks if anyone has questions. I make sure I'm in the right line, that indeed this is for member's only, but that they can sign me up for membership right there and then sell me tickets. Yee-haw. Just have to wait FOREVER for my turn. People in front of me are disgruntled. Apparently, some of them have been waiting for close to 2 hours. I guess they opened up some cashiers, because I was in line for about a half hour or so. So I get up and tell her to sell me membership. She does. She has a cute British accent. Cute hair. She's helpful. We're getting along great. Until that process is over and she asks me what I'm buying, movie-wise. I open up my printed list of 9 films that I want to see, and her face gets worried. "You don't have a form?" she inquires.
Now we're both worried. She's biting her lip. Her eyes are darting around for someone to help her out of this mess I've made of her orderly life. I am wondering what the hell's going on. WHAT form? She assures me there's a form, that I can get from the tables, and even get a volunteer to help me with it. But she's not allowed to help me if I haven't filled out the form.
I begin to freak out. Why the fuck not? I have all the times, places, and titles. I've just become a member. It's only 9 films, not 2 or 3 dozen like everyone else who was in front of me. Plus that, can't she just fucking grab me a form and I fill it out while she helps the next person, then gets back to me. And why the fuck wasn't I given a form? Told to fill out a form by a volunteer? Or warned about a RULE that exists by some sign. I started obsessing on the idea of a sign. How can they have a RULE and not a SIGN to inform you of the rule.
She sells me my membership, gives me back my card and receipt, and I have to leave and go grab a form. The volunteer who's been coming by every 5 minutes to ask if anyone has questions is standing at the volunteer desk, looking right at me with a weird, "what is it?" look on his face. A-ha! Someone to vent my fury at! "Where's the sign?!" I bellow. Oh god, I can't believe my voice was that loud in this echoing place. Everyone must have heard me. I'm shaking in fury at being humiliated. I try to contain my anger and speak quieter, get closer before continuing. "She wouldn't sell me tickets because I didn't have a form filled out, and there's no sign telling me I had to fill one out. Why isn't there a sign?"
He actually answers my rhetorical question with, "Poor foresight," or something like that. Oddly, this makes me angrier. I'm becoming the Incredible Hulk or something. I ask for a form, he points, I grab, I walk out. When we have exited, my questioning husband trailing and asking what happened, I bellow that they wouldn't sell me tickets because I hadn't filled out a form and there wasn't a sign.
I finally find a corner to sit down and start crying at. I'm not really angry at them any more. I'm angry at myself for embarrassing myself. For turning into an evil monster. I've seen numerous customers lose-it in our store, and we always try to bend over backwards for them. Sometimes, they reign in their anger when we try to help them, sometimes they continue to lose it. I think I continued to lose it because absolutely no one there tried to help resolve the situation. I had just stood in line for over a half hour for absolutely no reason, and they wouldn't help me.
Plus that, my knees hurt. I was cranky. I was no longer happy. I was in a very, very foul mood.
Eventually, we grabbed some dinner at Johnny Rocket's. I was so upset I forgot my vow not to ever eat there again. I filled out THE FORM while I waited for dinner to arrive. We went to see X2. I felt much better by the time the movie was out. But the next day I called in my order for tickets. So they charged me a $3 handling fee. Better than possibly facing the same people I had just made a fool of myself in front of.
Part of me kept reminding myself that this is a non-profit organization that works via volunteers. You can't expect top-notch service, or a manager to step in and smooth things over. Then I would remember that I just gave them $35 to become a member. If I had become a member of something I had to pay for, couldn't that money go to training people who could actually learn a thing or two about customer service? I've learned that the customer is NOT always right. You do not fuck yourself at the expense of the customer. But you certainly don't just hand them their hat just because one little problem arises. You try to fix the problem if possible. This experience has really left me wondering what is going on at SIFF these days. I used to get free passes from work, and be on a friendly basis with some of their staff. Now, I don't recognize faces, I'm forced to buy membership, and not allowed to actually do anything with said membership without filling out a pointless form.
I hope at least the festival itself runs smoothly this year. It always has its snags, but hopefully my experience is not some foreshadowing that things are really fucked up over there now. I hope it was just a one-time problem. At least I know that after I left, there were some people convinced that putting up a sign would be a good idea. You think?
Wed 5.8.03 @ 1:23pm
"The level of incompetence at Qwest is astounding." Quote from my husband. After fucking us over for almost 2 weeks, we found out that they never placed the order to switch our phone line. We found this out when Speakeasy said they were having trouble using our new number to do their stuff. Qwest gave us a meek "sorry" and "expedited" a new order to get it turned on by 5pm. But when Eric delivered this info to Speakeasy, they said it's possible our order for DSL was already closed out do to the problem, and we may have to submit a new work order. ANOTHER 8-10 days before DSL is installed. Holy Fuck.
Wed 5.8.03 @ 2:39pm
I have not had the chance to read any blogs since we've moved since we've been so busy and dial-up is slow-as-shit, with the exception of checking in once or twice on Gwen to make sure the whole new-baby thing has been going well.
I feel inspired to write. Odd, I've never noticed that reading other people's writing could make me want to write. At least, usually when I read books, they leave me depressed at my own inadequacies. But for some reason reading others blogging makes me want to blog. Maybe I'll update more often. I am also considering revamping where to put the newest blog entry. I'm thinking of instead of each new entry going on top, putting the new day on top, and each entry for that day after the one before it. Currently, it's this: May 1 @ 11:22pm then May 1 @ 2:15pm then May 1 @ 9:35am then April 30 @ 11:55pm. Kinda annoying. I think if you scroll to the date you want, you should then have an easier time of viewing that day's entries, right? So: May 1 @ 9:35 am then May 1 @ 2:15 pm then May 1 @ 11:22pm then April 30 @ 11:55pm.
Does that make sense? If not, I'm sure it will when I start organizing entries like that. Not that I do multiple entries a day very often, but when I do, I think it will be easier to read that way.
Wed 5.8.03 @ 7:17pm
Fark. Mysie is distressed. I finally remembered to go to the 2003 SIFF site to see if they'd put up this years entries yet, and spent way too much time reading on all the films with many irregular heart palpatations. 9 movies. That's a really slim "must see" list for me, but this year I don't have a book with details at my fingertips, so I just had the pic and a sentence to decide if I should click to see more. And after clicking on some interesting ones, I came away with 9 not-to-miss films. So I came home and finally balanced my checkbook to make sure I had the $$ to actually attend. FARK! I have over-extended myself ONCE AGAIN. Lucky for me, the sofa I bought will not hit my account until it is delivered some time in June. At least 2 paychecks between now and then to buffer my account. BUT, I should really install a holding pattern, and not spend ANY MORE CASH until next paycheck, to make sure I don't go so far in the hole that I can't afford the sofa when it DOES hit.
Which means no SIFF. Husband has graciously offered to pay for a Cinematic Six-Pack. Yee-haw! That's just 3 more out of pocket for me. I think I can swing that. Plus, it's not like I *don't* have the cash. I just shouldn't touch it. Why did I think this was a good idea? I don't know.
Oh. My. GOD. I just realized, I put the sofa on a 90-days-same-as-cash account at The Bon. Which means, it will NEVER hit my checking account. It will hit my Bon account, at which point I'll have 90 days to pay THAT bill in full. Oh, I am already salivating. Heart Palpatating irregularly. Oh dear. So many movies, so little time!
Now if only I can figure out how to see the one film that will conflict with my work schedule. Can you say: vacation? I have always wanted to take vacation time just to do SIFF. Since I have so much time saved up this year (if only I could transfer that shit to sick hours, that would not be the case at all), I may actually do it. Because Devdas sounds like my kinda film.
Any readers in Seattle? It's the time of year when I urge you to flock to Capital Hill to take in at least ONE foreign film this year. There are American films in there too, but why sit in hot, old movie houses to see a film that will be released to the general public in a matter of months for just a dollar or 2 more? No, SIFF is about foreign films. Art house films, maybe. Films that if you don't go see it now, you never will. Unless Scarecrow decides to get it when it comes out on video. IF it comes out on video. Not too many films from Venezuela, the Ukraine, or Iran, etc get put out on video. I've been surprised at which ones *do*. But certainly not all of them. And you won't know which ones will be available at the store in a few years until long after SIFF 2003 is over. So check out the schedule, and get your tickets. I'll see ya there!
And if you're curious about just what kind of films Mysie likes, she likes stuff from India and Iran, romances from Italy or Spain, Gay cinema from any nation, and I try to put on the list at least one Martial Arts or Pulp-Fiction-ish film a year. So here's my must-see list for 2003. Want to hook up for anything?
Angela
A Soldier's Girl
Ever Since the World Ended
Bollywood / Hollywood
Animatrix
Gasoline
Dummy
Devdas
Chow Yun-Fat Boy Meets Brownie Girl
Wed 5.8.03 @ 10:10pm
Mysie is a very, very happy girl. Why? Because my husband set up ftp for me a day early, so I can update my website. I've never used ftp in my life, so I downloaded a free trial of Fetch, recommended by the Mac OS X "The Missing Manual". Fetch works like a dream, and there's a cute lil doggie to watch while your files transfer! For those of you who miss your dog-cows, it's not a replacement, it's just a nifty reminder. Moof!
So, it may take me a few days to upload some new content, but hopefully I will be back to updating the site daily by the end of the weekend! Yahoo!!! My husband ROCKS. ftp over dial-up does not rock, but at least I get a lil fetch doggie to keep me company while I do it...
Wed 5.8.03 @ 10:29pm
oooo. a new idea just popped into my head. when i checked out if i could make my blog all fancy-schmancy like some of my faves who use moveable type, etc, I discovered I needed to use some mysterious thing called F. T. P. oooo, scary. Now with doggie at my side, not so much. I will soon be looking into this fancy shit again! Details forthcoming! Oh, except then I'd actually have to pay for a license and keep using ftp, even after we get dsl. hmmm... I'm already perturbed at having to buy a license for BBEdit because Simple Text can't handle how large my blog files are. But, OS X came with this interesting text editor thingee that may make that unnecessary. More things to consider. Huh. Actually, this OS X thing hasn't been that bad. I'm getting used to it pretty fast, I think because of experiences yelling at it at work when using a co-worker's machine who's been forced to upgrade. Now, when I go to work, I miss my OS X goodies, like changing backgrounds every 30 seconds.
Not that it's been *that* easy. Everything seems to be a trial with OS X. From figuring out how the fuck to find the folder contents to a program; to discovering that launching Outlook does NOT merely boot your old version under OS 9 but instead opens a BRAND NEW version without your emails and addresses in the OS X environment; to being coached at work on how to boot my machine into the OS 9 environment; to really, REALLY fucking hating iTunes trying to duplicate my fucking mp3s every different way I tried to make a song list with them.
In the end, it's all been about compromise. I moved the fucking mp3s so it would stop trying to do it for me. I booted in 9 to grab some old emails and my address books, which I then had to manually input into the official OS X Address Book so that I could send emails. Only to realize I can't fucking send email via that damned program, because I can't send email out via the madhouse (although I can still *receive* email from mysie@madhouse.org) AND hotmail won't download to the damned mail program. So, it's pretty much been WALL, compromise, WALL, compromise, WALL... with much swearing and hair pulling and teeth grinding thrown in at various intervals.
Not that any of you care. Does anyone even read this? Hmmm...
Wed 5.7.03 @ 11:17am
I'm not sure where to begin. Alot has been going on, and I haven't had the time or inclination to right about it. Yesterday was especially odd. I got home and was completely bored, with no motivation to do anything to alleviate that boredom with anything that normally satisfies me. My life was feeling pretty pointless last night, like nothing I do is worth anything, and anything I could do that was would just be too tiring to even attempt.
I hate days like that. Today I'm more motivated to write, because I know that it's something I find satisfying, no matter what my outlook before I sit down, and no matter what the product I create. So, yah, even this stupid entry will leave me feeling more positive about things.
This last weekend was quite pleasant. Friday we went out for Chinese, and then to see Identity. I've been trying to write a review of it since, and for the reasons mentioned above have not.
Saturday we ran some errands for the house, then that night I went out with Coral. We had drinks at the Cloud Room, the bar on the top floor of the Camlin Hotel. Apparently, it may have been my last time there. The bouncer was chatting us up, and said that the owners were have been trying to sell the place, and are now going to turn it into time-share condos. Despite our objections that that doesn't mean they'd have to close the bar and restaurant, apparently that's the plan. How depressing. He assured us that it's an historical landmark so the facade and lobby are safe, but beyond that, they can do what they like with the inside. Including shutting down a very interesting, mellow bar. Bah.
Then he started chatting us up about how old the place was, and that it was haunted. He told us there was a room on the 10th floor, he believes 1004, that a woman was murdered in sometime in the 40s or so. And ever since, when anyone stays in the room, they wake up the next morning with scratches all over their body. So they closed the room down shortly after. Only to recently re-open it when there was construction nearby last year, I guess to have as many rooms available as possible. He said the same thing happened: scratched up visitors. So they permanently shut it down and converted it to a closet!
Then he told us about room 711. Apparently, people "see things" there, like something in the room with them. He said he was in the lobby one day when everyone could hear someone hollering in the elevator as it descended. When the elevator opened in the lobby, this guy comes running out, screaming about something in his room, and he's going to the Westin, and they can send his shit there. They had to figure out who the hell the guy was just to find his stuff and ship it to the other hotel, but when they got up there, they didn't want to go in. The bouncer said his wife had recently brought friends up to just see this room, and because he was the one who opened the door that time, his car got stolen that night. So he made the other guy open the room to get the freaked-out guy's stuff. And *that* guy had his car broken into and trashed that night.
I am so annoyingly superstitious! I've been creeped out by our house at night ever since. Grr!!!
Anyway, Sunday Eric's dad came over and the two of them did soooo much to organize the house. It was so great. And he bought us a lawnmower! How cool is that?
Then the bad news: John, Eric's sister's husband, is being sent to the Gulf. Fuck. I didn't know they sent the Coast Guard to war. And now the war is "over". The whole thing's very frustrating for them, because they were being forced to move to a base in Miami in August. So they had made all these plans to move, and take their vacation with us in July to the family reunion, then come home and pack up. Then Friday gets orders that his move has been bumped up, and he has 2 weeks to report to Miami. Fuck. It's going to be so depressing with them gone. We're not necessarily really close with them, but I like them, and I adore his kids. Now it's going to be extra hard to see them for the next 2 years, since they'll be in Miami, and the girls in Reno. When they fly to visit, it will be to Florida, not to Washington. This blows.
Well, I think my break is over. Time to get back to work. I really hope we have DSL at home soon. Qwest are rat bastards. My hand to god. Fuckers.
5.7.03 @ 5:15pm
I wanted to leave work early due to yet *another* headache, but instead bore it out to finish up things and actually leave on time. When the headache arrived, I was in my car returning from an errand, so when I got back to the office I took some drugs and laid down in my office with the lights out to see what could be done. It wasn't effective today, nor were the drugs. I'm probably going to go take a nap after this.
But while I was lying there, I was thinking about last night's Buffy. Actually, about soft women and their curves, and that brought to mind Willow & Kennedy's tender moments last night. I don't know what it is, but each time Willow gets intimate with a girl on the show, first Tara and now Kennedy, I don't think it comes off very well. It seems kind of forced. Maybe it's the expressions on Alyson Hannigan's face. Maybe it's the fact that they continue to push the envelope to be more sexual each season, so when you notice all the women have sex with their tops on, it's kind of jarring. I don't know. Maybe it was the fact that I was about to roll my eyes because Willow & Kennedy's love scene was going to be pre-empted by a bunch of will-we-or-won't-we discussion. But then they finally got it on, and the chick that plays Kennedy is one sexy mama. Well, maybe that's it. Because despite finding Evil Vamp Willow sexy, normal Willow is very pretty and cute, but more in a lil' sister kinda way for me. But when Kennedy was tonguing our Witchy Sister, I was holding my breath. I don't really care for piercings in intimate places, like the tongue, but that just added to the effect. Kennedy's tongue was very wet and didn't shy away from its task. That girl's tongue made the scene damn hot.
So today, laying in my office with a migraine, I had that tonguing and the image of a woman's hips in silhouette superimposed in my mind. And I wanted to draw that hip. Revel in the lasciviousness I was feeling. Imagine being tongued and being the tonguer, imagine feeling hips and being the one grabbed.
I finally wrote some haikus, since they're so easy. They just always sound so juvenile when I'm done with them. I also drew those hips. And a sketchy rest of the body. I thought of scanning it for you, because surprisingly it's not completely horrific. But it's even more juvenile than the haiku, so let's just stick to the words for now, ok?
So, here is the Kennedy & Willow inspired haiku. I do still miss Tara though.
To draw your soft hips
warm, pliant, pure creamy white
'Twould be nirvana.
Wet, wet silk so hot
touches and caresses me
hard metal pierce me.
Just found out Kennedy is played by Iyari Limon, who was born in Mexico. She is damned yummie, that's all I gots to say.
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Random thoughts of the day:
I think I have finally lost my mind. Coral's fish smells good. I hate fish.
The only way I could lust after an iPod more would be if it vibrated. *ahem*
For someone who loves words, why is my vocabulary so small?
The CNN Breaking News report sitting in my Inbox that I was momentarily too terrified to open cannot be telling me that my husband's plane has blown up, because his flight does not leave for another 5 hours.
What does "shipper" mean, in terms of fanfic? If I am a Willow/Tara shipper, does that mean I "ship" some product to my readers, ie: a new story? The new language teens are developing is getting harder and harder to decipher. Something I read the other day makes me think it could be 'ship, as in I (wor)ship lesbian sex. Hmmm... Just as long as they dOn"T tYpE lIkE tHis or ask "howRU?", I think I'll be fine.
Jell-O brand "Pudding Bites" sounds like a good idea, but in the end it's just a pudding flavored gummy-bit. ewwww
I am an "excellent speller"! I got 8 out of 10 right!
Omigod, Richard Chamberlain is gay!
I hope my husband comes home safe, sound, & soon.
THU 5.29.03 @ 8:44pm
I feel a divine sense of peacefulness in this neighborhood. When I turn onto our street, a magical feeling of calm takes over me. There are often children riding bikes in the road, mothers pushing strollers as they jog by, or someone walking a dog. The speed limit is 30, and I like to go 25, which is very unlike myself. This place is just so calm and quiet, it just takes me over.
From my 2nd floor office "space", I have these large windows that I like to gaze out of. You can just catch a glimpse, a smidgen, of the Olympic Mountains. When I look in that direction, I can almost convince myself that the house across the street isn't there, and all I can see then is tree tops. A bit of trees in front of me, then some sort of dip in a valley, and then they spring up on the other siide about a mile away. After which there must be another valley, because beyond that wall of trees, all there is is sky. Usually with some sort of grayish tint because it's so near the smog line and it hasn't rained in a few days. But sometimes blue. Often pinkish or purple, because I don't usually come up until after the sun has started its descent.
There is nothing sweet about the air. Nothing ravishing about those trees. I can blot out those mountains by putting my thumb out at arms length in front of my eyes. There are always dogs barking, children screaming, lawn mowers running, or just my own silly cat begging for his attention.
But I love this place. I want to sit and stare until my eyes go numb. I want to count every blade of grass in my overgrown jungle of a yard. I want to somehow reach out and touch that sky, with it's little smears of puffy, pink-hued clouds.
So calm and ordinary. And so magical.
MON 5.27.03 @ 9:29pm
I had somewhat of a boring weekend, but that's really how I prefer them. I like to sleep in late, eat food that's bad for me, watch movies, and stay up too late. I did all of these things, so the weekend was a success! I also cleaned a little, so my husband didn't think I was completely useless.
On Friday, we went to go see The Matrix Reloaded a 2nd time. I am definitely going to be buying that on DVD when it comes out, and watching it a bazillion times. It's just an amazing film, as was the first. I'm so glad they put the effort into it, and didn't hack it.
I did want to say something about the giant cave-rave (hehe, I made a funny!). My husband believes that this scene was extraneous and very much unnecessary (those things mean the same thing, don't they...). I read somewhere that Reloaded was about Life, and that Revolutions will be about Death. This scene was very much about Life, and was an important Character Development scene: development of the human race.
I'm not quite sure how to express myself, except to say that I've long held that the only kind of religion I could ever enjoy would be one that simply celebrated life, and did so through dance and sex. Dancing and sex are primal, and they're about life. This scene demonstrated that, with some very sexy dancing (lots of nipple shots!), a lovely tribal beat, and Trinity and Neo consummating their relationship for our viewing pleasure. It was a moving, thrilling scene. I thought it was a little long, but certainly not extraneous.
Uh-oh, I think I just came out as a hedonist. Don't tell my family!!! ;)
Also this weekend, I watched FIVE movies, four of them for the first time. Anna and The King was on ABC, High Fidelity was on The Comedy Channel, and we rented About A Boy, Darkness Falls, and Femme Fatale. Go check out my reviews!
Finally, is it a mondegreen* or a Freudian slip? There's a song that's kinda popular on C89 that I believe is called "At The End" by someone named Iio. I'm pretty sure I'm wrong, but the first time I paid attention to the lyrics, I swear this is what I heard in the chorus:
i don't mean to
when i hurt you
but i need to
i assure you.
it's not easy
when i'm crazy
at the end you're
still my only
Every time I hear that song, I think of Eric and what a fucked up person I am and how it affects our relationship. But I keep on loving him, because he keeps on loving me. Well, plus other stuff. But I don't want to get all mushy. I just thought I'd give you a little peak at Mysie's psyche. ciao.
*I found that word in the 5/23 @ 8:47am post here, but for some reason it's not letting me link to individual posts. Hmmm...
THU 5.22.03 @ 10:13pm
All is right with the world: I have red hair again. OK, maybe not everything, but it sure is nice to be a redhead again. It just makes me feel sexier.
The only other thing to report is that we have our DSL back, and will shortly be running a wireless network to boot. Life is that boring, I had to tell you that. I dyed my hair out of sheer boredom. I might redesign my site just because of it. Except that that would require effort and thought. Bah.
I dreamed about Godzilla last night.
This reminds me of the summer when I was 12, and I spent most of it bored out of my mind. I would write in my diary everyday nonetheless, and there are many entries where I merely write "I am bored" over & over again, occassionally alternating the handwriting for kicks.
Possibly less boring than this lame entry is my review of Secretary. *shrug* Not like anyone reads this anyway.
WED 5.21.03 @ 10:28pm
what an odd day. I was plugging along at work, when I started to feel a headache coming on. I was a Good Girl and took my cocktail of Excederin and Advil within minutes of the first inkling. I took my lunch. Food + relaxation + drugs = (usually) feeling better within 1 hour. Yet, within an hour I felt like SHIT. My head was throbbing, and I couldn't think. I kept plugging away, thinking the drugs would eventually kick in. At 3pm, I left work. I came home, took more drugs, and laid down with the intention of sleeping it off. Food + drugs + sleep = feeling 80-99% better upon waking.
I couldn't sleep. I was amazingly drowsy. I tossed and turned for an hour. And had weird, weird trains of thought that just wouldn't die. Mostly, I thought about Kenna, my alter-ego vampire chickie. I thought about the story I wrote about her in college, and how I'd always wondered what happened to her next. And I plotted something out.
So I got up and wrote it down. For about 5 hours. Straight. Now ask me how long it's been since I've written anything five hours straight? I have no fucking clue, but I'm guessing at least 3 or 4 years. Holy shit.
For some reason, no one at Deviantart has ever marked any of my pieces as a "Favorite", despite all sorts of odd things by other people getting favorited a bazillion times a day there. I've only ever gotten a handful of comments over 50+ entries, and I would never want anyone to Favorite me if they didn't really like the submission. But I've never had a reader of mysie.com join (only takes a minute!) and even leave me a comment. I must have no regular readers or something. OK, 2 confirmed. That's it. I get 40-90 hits a week, and no one ever signs the guestbook, so they must all just be random.
Anyway, other than feeling pretty unloved (thus stooping to begging for comments), I'm really feeling satisfied with myself for writing something. Even if it's crap. Because I decided a few years ago that I really have to just write, even if it's just crap, or I'll never write anything at all. But a comment or two on my work wouldn't hurt ya, right? I mean, the least you could say would be "how interesting". Right? RIGHT????
In case you didn't notice them, here are some INVALUABLE links I just know you'll LOVE to visit SOON:
Guestbook
Kenna (the original short story)
Kenna - A Conclusion (of sorts)
mysie.deviantart.com (for all those other groovy things I've submitted)
TUE 5.20.03 @ 10:12pm
Well, I didn't get everything accomplished that I wanted to today, but I finally found the time to email Heather despite a more-busy-than-usual day at work. Then I came home and removed the remaining tent caterpillars that I missed this morning. Various websites claim the best thing to do is just prune the area the nest is at when it's cold and/or wet, which it was this morning and this afternoon. I got most of them, so yay me! And no, owning a yard isn't just hard. It's also rewarding. The roses that I'm not thrilled about inheriting from the previous owner are starting to bloom. I made my own tiny pot of an herb garden for the backporch, and I highly doubt any drunken frat boys will be by this weekend to steal it in the middle of the night. Plus, I removed the stupid baby pine trees the woman had planted by the front door, and installed my favorite flowering plant of all time: Lantana. I adore those things. They are blooming nicely. They look a little wimpy for the spot, but they grow a few feet tall in Hawaii, so I'm sure in a year or two they'll look much better there. But, of course, I'm "Mysie with a guilty conscience", so I couldn't just throw out the baby trees. I replanted them in odd places around the yard. *sigh* Why baby pines? Won't they grow up to be humungous? I don't want huge fucking trees in the middle of my yard, let alone right next to the front door! What was this woman thinking???
Anyway, before the evening festivities commenced, I hammered out that review of The Matrix Reloaded. Go check it out. I am so damned wordy, I know. I will try to lower the word limit for Secretary, I promise (maybe).
Then we watched the series finale of Buffy *sob!!!* and the season finale of 24. Buffy went out with a bang, and she didn't die, but those they did kill didn't make a whole bunch of sense. And I thought it was an odd place to end a series. It was such a positive ending, like there would be more to come right around the corner, so why end? I'll miss it, that's for sure. But supposedly they renewed Angel, so at least I can get my fix of the Buffyverse for another year.
The season finale of 24 (not Series Finale, which Eric was expecting) resolved some stuff and set up the next season rather obviously. Pity, Kim lived out the whole fucking season. That dense bitch. Eric claimed that cybernetic cougars were going to invade CTU to kill her ass, but he must have just been toying with me. Dammit.
TUE 5.20.03 @ 9:04am
Holy fuck I had a CRAZY-WEIRD dream! There was an intruder in my house (not this house) who turned out to be my own personal stalker, who by the end of the dream was being played by Jonathan from "Buffy The Vampire Slayer". Eww! OK, eww, because I had to kiss him. EWWWWWWW!!! Blech. Anyway, there were also giant wolves who could break through windows to get in the house. Which is very odd, because I just dreamed about said wolves doing said thing a few weeks ago... And I dreamed about my hamster. That I couldn't put him down because his house was broken, so I was carrying him everywhere and MAN was he upset with me. He was biting me and everything. And I'm like *dude*! I'm trying to save your life here by not putting you down in strange places (I had lots of places to be). Scampie did not understand English at the time, but in the end when I got him a new house, he showed his pleasure with his new digs complete with swimming pool and train tracks (um???) by calling me "Pop". Like I was his dad.
Told you it was crazy-weird.
MON 5.19.03 @ 9:57pm
I know, I am an evil rat-bastard who never updates her blog. *sigh* I've been busy, but also just putting shit off. Like I have 2 movie reviews I really want to write, just never right now. Grr. Anyway, I downloaded both Graymatter AND Moveable Type, so I could investigate which to go with later. But first I need to write those reviews and post them. Then investigate. THEN I can see what needs to happen to use one or the other. All I know is, I opened the MT folder, and I don't even see a program, just a bunch of annoying windows-type items, and I'm rolling my eyes and groaning. I specifically looked at both places and NEITHER said anything about not working on Macs. I know a couple of Mac users who use Gray Matter, so maybe that's why, because MT doesn't support Mac (even though their site doesn't say that?). Um, anyway, this is turning into a run-on paragraph, so I'll cut it short.
Promise to write those reviews (The Matrix Reloaded and Secretary) in the next 48 hours, and not spend all my free time doing stupid online quizzes, like the 10 anime-related ones I did today during my lunch. *hehe*
ps: owning a yard sucks. we have tent caterpillars. woo-hoo! the thing they never tell you when you're looking to buy a house, is that you're constantly throwing money at it. FOREVER AFTER. hmph. Reminds me of a comic I once saw, of two guys side by side at a marina taking care of their boats. One is lovingly working on his, the other is just throwing a bucket of money at his. There's like a talk-bubble over his head where he's telling the other guy that he's found an easier way to deal with his boat. Anyway, that's what owning a house is like. No matter how much money you throw at it, sooner or later (or sooner), it'll need to eat some more. *sigh*
TUE 5.13.03 @ 10:20pm
Not really much to report here, just working and dealing with 2 migraines in 2 days. Why on earth did I schedule my doctor's appt almost 2 months out??
Otherwise, I've just been watching tv, and writing up movie reviews. I mentioned 2 in the last long entry, and I just finished up one for Disney's Treasure Planet. I liked it better the 2nd time around (on DVD) than I remembered. So go read that review, or my reviews of X2 and/or Identity.
SAT 5.11.03 @ 12:52pm
Well, another weekend almost over without anything major accomplished. I spent most of my time under some weird cloud of boredom/depression/non-motivation. It's been a frustrating couple of days, mental-health wise. So what follows is a really long rant. If you don't care to read it, go ahead and read some movie reviews I just wrote: Identity and X2.
Friday was turning out to be a good day. I've been in a really good mood the last few Fridays. I get alot done at work because my morale is so high in anticipating the weekend. Plus, I had called the SIFF box office to make sure that when I came down, they could sign me up for membership and then instantly sell me my tickets. Yay! Then, as I was leaving work, my cell phone rang, and it was Eric, telling me he could meet me at Pacific Place afterall. Double Yay! That meant an evening together of dinner and movie.
But when we got to the PP movie theater, there was no SIFF box office. The staff didn't know why it wasn't there. They thought it didn't start selling tickets until next week. I kept assuring them that it did start selling to the general public the next week, but were supposed to have started selling to members the day before. While they kept using their walkie-talkies to try to get a manager with answers, I sent Eric out to scope out the building on a hunch that maybe they had grabbed a vacant room to use as a box office. He returned shortly to confirm that the box office was 2 floors down. I thanked the theater staff for their attempts to help, and walked out with my husband cursing SIFF for having me on the phone and not telling me WHERE to go at Pacific Place, considering the last two years in a row they've had their booth in the movie theater.
So we get downstairs, and there's no signs or anything telling you what to do. So I get in line behind all the other people. A guy comes along a few times and asks if anyone has questions. I make sure I'm in the right line, that indeed this is for member's only, but that they can sign me up for membership right there and then sell me tickets. Yee-haw. Just have to wait FOREVER for my turn. People in front of me are disgruntled. Apparently, some of them have been waiting for close to 2 hours. I guess they opened up some cashiers, because I was in line for about a half hour or so. So I get up and tell her to sell me membership. She does. She has a cute British accent. Cute hair. She's helpful. We're getting along great. Until that process is over and she asks me what I'm buying, movie-wise. I open up my printed list of 9 films that I want to see, and her face gets worried. "You don't have a form?" she inquires.
Now we're both worried. She's biting her lip. Her eyes are darting around for someone to help her out of this mess I've made of her orderly life. I am wondering what the hell's going on. WHAT form? She assures me there's a form, that I can get from the tables, and even get a volunteer to help me with it. But she's not allowed to help me if I haven't filled out the form.
I begin to freak out. Why the fuck not? I have all the times, places, and titles. I've just become a member. It's only 9 films, not 2 or 3 dozen like everyone else who was in front of me. Plus that, can't she just fucking grab me a form and I fill it out while she helps the next person, then gets back to me. And why the fuck wasn't I given a form? Told to fill out a form by a volunteer? Or warned about a RULE that exists by some sign. I started obsessing on the idea of a sign. How can they have a RULE and not a SIGN to inform you of the rule.
She sells me my membership, gives me back my card and receipt, and I have to leave and go grab a form. The volunteer who's been coming by every 5 minutes to ask if anyone has questions is standing at the volunteer desk, looking right at me with a weird, "what is it?" look on his face. A-ha! Someone to vent my fury at! "Where's the sign?!" I bellow. Oh god, I can't believe my voice was that loud in this echoing place. Everyone must have heard me. I'm shaking in fury at being humiliated. I try to contain my anger and speak quieter, get closer before continuing. "She wouldn't sell me tickets because I didn't have a form filled out, and there's no sign telling me I had to fill one out. Why isn't there a sign?"
He actually answers my rhetorical question with, "Poor foresight," or something like that. Oddly, this makes me angrier. I'm becoming the Incredible Hulk or something. I ask for a form, he points, I grab, I walk out. When we have exited, my questioning husband trailing and asking what happened, I bellow that they wouldn't sell me tickets because I hadn't filled out a form and there wasn't a sign.
I finally find a corner to sit down and start crying at. I'm not really angry at them any more. I'm angry at myself for embarrassing myself. For turning into an evil monster. I've seen numerous customers lose-it in our store, and we always try to bend over backwards for them. Sometimes, they reign in their anger when we try to help them, sometimes they continue to lose it. I think I continued to lose it because absolutely no one there tried to help resolve the situation. I had just stood in line for over a half hour for absolutely no reason, and they wouldn't help me.
Plus that, my knees hurt. I was cranky. I was no longer happy. I was in a very, very foul mood.
Eventually, we grabbed some dinner at Johnny Rocket's. I was so upset I forgot my vow not to ever eat there again. I filled out THE FORM while I waited for dinner to arrive. We went to see X2. I felt much better by the time the movie was out. But the next day I called in my order for tickets. So they charged me a $3 handling fee. Better than possibly facing the same people I had just made a fool of myself in front of.
Part of me kept reminding myself that this is a non-profit organization that works via volunteers. You can't expect top-notch service, or a manager to step in and smooth things over. Then I would remember that I just gave them $35 to become a member. If I had become a member of something I had to pay for, couldn't that money go to training people who could actually learn a thing or two about customer service? I've learned that the customer is NOT always right. You do not fuck yourself at the expense of the customer. But you certainly don't just hand them their hat just because one little problem arises. You try to fix the problem if possible. This experience has really left me wondering what is going on at SIFF these days. I used to get free passes from work, and be on a friendly basis with some of their staff. Now, I don't recognize faces, I'm forced to buy membership, and not allowed to actually do anything with said membership without filling out a pointless form.
I hope at least the festival itself runs smoothly this year. It always has its snags, but hopefully my experience is not some foreshadowing that things are really fucked up over there now. I hope it was just a one-time problem. At least I know that after I left, there were some people convinced that putting up a sign would be a good idea. You think?
Wed 5.8.03 @ 1:23pm
"The level of incompetence at Qwest is astounding." Quote from my husband. After fucking us over for almost 2 weeks, we found out that they never placed the order to switch our phone line. We found this out when Speakeasy said they were having trouble using our new number to do their stuff. Qwest gave us a meek "sorry" and "expedited" a new order to get it turned on by 5pm. But when Eric delivered this info to Speakeasy, they said it's possible our order for DSL was already closed out do to the problem, and we may have to submit a new work order. ANOTHER 8-10 days before DSL is installed. Holy Fuck.
Wed 5.8.03 @ 2:39pm
I have not had the chance to read any blogs since we've moved since we've been so busy and dial-up is slow-as-shit, with the exception of checking in once or twice on Gwen to make sure the whole new-baby thing has been going well.
I feel inspired to write. Odd, I've never noticed that reading other people's writing could make me want to write. At least, usually when I read books, they leave me depressed at my own inadequacies. But for some reason reading others blogging makes me want to blog. Maybe I'll update more often. I am also considering revamping where to put the newest blog entry. I'm thinking of instead of each new entry going on top, putting the new day on top, and each entry for that day after the one before it. Currently, it's this: May 1 @ 11:22pm then May 1 @ 2:15pm then May 1 @ 9:35am then April 30 @ 11:55pm. Kinda annoying. I think if you scroll to the date you want, you should then have an easier time of viewing that day's entries, right? So: May 1 @ 9:35 am then May 1 @ 2:15 pm then May 1 @ 11:22pm then April 30 @ 11:55pm.
Does that make sense? If not, I'm sure it will when I start organizing entries like that. Not that I do multiple entries a day very often, but when I do, I think it will be easier to read that way.
Wed 5.8.03 @ 7:17pm
Fark. Mysie is distressed. I finally remembered to go to the 2003 SIFF site to see if they'd put up this years entries yet, and spent way too much time reading on all the films with many irregular heart palpatations. 9 movies. That's a really slim "must see" list for me, but this year I don't have a book with details at my fingertips, so I just had the pic and a sentence to decide if I should click to see more. And after clicking on some interesting ones, I came away with 9 not-to-miss films. So I came home and finally balanced my checkbook to make sure I had the $$ to actually attend. FARK! I have over-extended myself ONCE AGAIN. Lucky for me, the sofa I bought will not hit my account until it is delivered some time in June. At least 2 paychecks between now and then to buffer my account. BUT, I should really install a holding pattern, and not spend ANY MORE CASH until next paycheck, to make sure I don't go so far in the hole that I can't afford the sofa when it DOES hit.
Which means no SIFF. Husband has graciously offered to pay for a Cinematic Six-Pack. Yee-haw! That's just 3 more out of pocket for me. I think I can swing that. Plus, it's not like I *don't* have the cash. I just shouldn't touch it. Why did I think this was a good idea? I don't know.
Oh. My. GOD. I just realized, I put the sofa on a 90-days-same-as-cash account at The Bon. Which means, it will NEVER hit my checking account. It will hit my Bon account, at which point I'll have 90 days to pay THAT bill in full. Oh, I am already salivating. Heart Palpatating irregularly. Oh dear. So many movies, so little time!
Now if only I can figure out how to see the one film that will conflict with my work schedule. Can you say: vacation? I have always wanted to take vacation time just to do SIFF. Since I have so much time saved up this year (if only I could transfer that shit to sick hours, that would not be the case at all), I may actually do it. Because Devdas sounds like my kinda film.
Any readers in Seattle? It's the time of year when I urge you to flock to Capital Hill to take in at least ONE foreign film this year. There are American films in there too, but why sit in hot, old movie houses to see a film that will be released to the general public in a matter of months for just a dollar or 2 more? No, SIFF is about foreign films. Art house films, maybe. Films that if you don't go see it now, you never will. Unless Scarecrow decides to get it when it comes out on video. IF it comes out on video. Not too many films from Venezuela, the Ukraine, or Iran, etc get put out on video. I've been surprised at which ones *do*. But certainly not all of them. And you won't know which ones will be available at the store in a few years until long after SIFF 2003 is over. So check out the schedule, and get your tickets. I'll see ya there!
And if you're curious about just what kind of films Mysie likes, she likes stuff from India and Iran, romances from Italy or Spain, Gay cinema from any nation, and I try to put on the list at least one Martial Arts or Pulp-Fiction-ish film a year. So here's my must-see list for 2003. Want to hook up for anything?
Angela
A Soldier's Girl
Ever Since the World Ended
Bollywood / Hollywood
Animatrix
Gasoline
Dummy
Devdas
Chow Yun-Fat Boy Meets Brownie Girl
Wed 5.8.03 @ 10:10pm
Mysie is a very, very happy girl. Why? Because my husband set up ftp for me a day early, so I can update my website. I've never used ftp in my life, so I downloaded a free trial of Fetch, recommended by the Mac OS X "The Missing Manual". Fetch works like a dream, and there's a cute lil doggie to watch while your files transfer! For those of you who miss your dog-cows, it's not a replacement, it's just a nifty reminder. Moof!
So, it may take me a few days to upload some new content, but hopefully I will be back to updating the site daily by the end of the weekend! Yahoo!!! My husband ROCKS. ftp over dial-up does not rock, but at least I get a lil fetch doggie to keep me company while I do it...
Wed 5.8.03 @ 10:29pm
oooo. a new idea just popped into my head. when i checked out if i could make my blog all fancy-schmancy like some of my faves who use moveable type, etc, I discovered I needed to use some mysterious thing called F. T. P. oooo, scary. Now with doggie at my side, not so much. I will soon be looking into this fancy shit again! Details forthcoming! Oh, except then I'd actually have to pay for a license and keep using ftp, even after we get dsl. hmmm... I'm already perturbed at having to buy a license for BBEdit because Simple Text can't handle how large my blog files are. But, OS X came with this interesting text editor thingee that may make that unnecessary. More things to consider. Huh. Actually, this OS X thing hasn't been that bad. I'm getting used to it pretty fast, I think because of experiences yelling at it at work when using a co-worker's machine who's been forced to upgrade. Now, when I go to work, I miss my OS X goodies, like changing backgrounds every 30 seconds.
Not that it's been *that* easy. Everything seems to be a trial with OS X. From figuring out how the fuck to find the folder contents to a program; to discovering that launching Outlook does NOT merely boot your old version under OS 9 but instead opens a BRAND NEW version without your emails and addresses in the OS X environment; to being coached at work on how to boot my machine into the OS 9 environment; to really, REALLY fucking hating iTunes trying to duplicate my fucking mp3s every different way I tried to make a song list with them.
In the end, it's all been about compromise. I moved the fucking mp3s so it would stop trying to do it for me. I booted in 9 to grab some old emails and my address books, which I then had to manually input into the official OS X Address Book so that I could send emails. Only to realize I can't fucking send email via that damned program, because I can't send email out via the madhouse (although I can still *receive* email from mysie@madhouse.org) AND hotmail won't download to the damned mail program. So, it's pretty much been WALL, compromise, WALL, compromise, WALL... with much swearing and hair pulling and teeth grinding thrown in at various intervals.
Not that any of you care. Does anyone even read this? Hmmm...
Wed 5.7.03 @ 11:17am
I'm not sure where to begin. Alot has been going on, and I haven't had the time or inclination to right about it. Yesterday was especially odd. I got home and was completely bored, with no motivation to do anything to alleviate that boredom with anything that normally satisfies me. My life was feeling pretty pointless last night, like nothing I do is worth anything, and anything I could do that was would just be too tiring to even attempt.
I hate days like that. Today I'm more motivated to write, because I know that it's something I find satisfying, no matter what my outlook before I sit down, and no matter what the product I create. So, yah, even this stupid entry will leave me feeling more positive about things.
This last weekend was quite pleasant. Friday we went out for Chinese, and then to see Identity. I've been trying to write a review of it since, and for the reasons mentioned above have not.
Saturday we ran some errands for the house, then that night I went out with Coral. We had drinks at the Cloud Room, the bar on the top floor of the Camlin Hotel. Apparently, it may have been my last time there. The bouncer was chatting us up, and said that the owners were have been trying to sell the place, and are now going to turn it into time-share condos. Despite our objections that that doesn't mean they'd have to close the bar and restaurant, apparently that's the plan. How depressing. He assured us that it's an historical landmark so the facade and lobby are safe, but beyond that, they can do what they like with the inside. Including shutting down a very interesting, mellow bar. Bah.
Then he started chatting us up about how old the place was, and that it was haunted. He told us there was a room on the 10th floor, he believes 1004, that a woman was murdered in sometime in the 40s or so. And ever since, when anyone stays in the room, they wake up the next morning with scratches all over their body. So they closed the room down shortly after. Only to recently re-open it when there was construction nearby last year, I guess to have as many rooms available as possible. He said the same thing happened: scratched up visitors. So they permanently shut it down and converted it to a closet!
Then he told us about room 711. Apparently, people "see things" there, like something in the room with them. He said he was in the lobby one day when everyone could hear someone hollering in the elevator as it descended. When the elevator opened in the lobby, this guy comes running out, screaming about something in his room, and he's going to the Westin, and they can send his shit there. They had to figure out who the hell the guy was just to find his stuff and ship it to the other hotel, but when they got up there, they didn't want to go in. The bouncer said his wife had recently brought friends up to just see this room, and because he was the one who opened the door that time, his car got stolen that night. So he made the other guy open the room to get the freaked-out guy's stuff. And *that* guy had his car broken into and trashed that night.
I am so annoyingly superstitious! I've been creeped out by our house at night ever since. Grr!!!
Anyway, Sunday Eric's dad came over and the two of them did soooo much to organize the house. It was so great. And he bought us a lawnmower! How cool is that?
Then the bad news: John, Eric's sister's husband, is being sent to the Gulf. Fuck. I didn't know they sent the Coast Guard to war. And now the war is "over". The whole thing's very frustrating for them, because they were being forced to move to a base in Miami in August. So they had made all these plans to move, and take their vacation with us in July to the family reunion, then come home and pack up. Then Friday gets orders that his move has been bumped up, and he has 2 weeks to report to Miami. Fuck. It's going to be so depressing with them gone. We're not necessarily really close with them, but I like them, and I adore his kids. Now it's going to be extra hard to see them for the next 2 years, since they'll be in Miami, and the girls in Reno. When they fly to visit, it will be to Florida, not to Washington. This blows.
Well, I think my break is over. Time to get back to work. I really hope we have DSL at home soon. Qwest are rat bastards. My hand to god. Fuckers.
5.7.03 @ 5:15pm
I wanted to leave work early due to yet *another* headache, but instead bore it out to finish up things and actually leave on time. When the headache arrived, I was in my car returning from an errand, so when I got back to the office I took some drugs and laid down in my office with the lights out to see what could be done. It wasn't effective today, nor were the drugs. I'm probably going to go take a nap after this.
But while I was lying there, I was thinking about last night's Buffy. Actually, about soft women and their curves, and that brought to mind Willow & Kennedy's tender moments last night. I don't know what it is, but each time Willow gets intimate with a girl on the show, first Tara and now Kennedy, I don't think it comes off very well. It seems kind of forced. Maybe it's the expressions on Alyson Hannigan's face. Maybe it's the fact that they continue to push the envelope to be more sexual each season, so when you notice all the women have sex with their tops on, it's kind of jarring. I don't know. Maybe it was the fact that I was about to roll my eyes because Willow & Kennedy's love scene was going to be pre-empted by a bunch of will-we-or-won't-we discussion. But then they finally got it on, and the chick that plays Kennedy is one sexy mama. Well, maybe that's it. Because despite finding Evil Vamp Willow sexy, normal Willow is very pretty and cute, but more in a lil' sister kinda way for me. But when Kennedy was tonguing our Witchy Sister, I was holding my breath. I don't really care for piercings in intimate places, like the tongue, but that just added to the effect. Kennedy's tongue was very wet and didn't shy away from its task. That girl's tongue made the scene damn hot.
So today, laying in my office with a migraine, I had that tonguing and the image of a woman's hips in silhouette superimposed in my mind. And I wanted to draw that hip. Revel in the lasciviousness I was feeling. Imagine being tongued and being the tonguer, imagine feeling hips and being the one grabbed.
I finally wrote some haikus, since they're so easy. They just always sound so juvenile when I'm done with them. I also drew those hips. And a sketchy rest of the body. I thought of scanning it for you, because surprisingly it's not completely horrific. But it's even more juvenile than the haiku, so let's just stick to the words for now, ok?
So, here is the Kennedy & Willow inspired haiku. I do still miss Tara though.
To draw your soft hips
warm, pliant, pure creamy white
'Twould be nirvana.
Wet, wet silk so hot
touches and caresses me
hard metal pierce me.
Just found out Kennedy is played by Iyari Limon, who was born in Mexico. She is damned yummie, that's all I gots to say.
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