At the end of May 2006 I decided to make this journal partly open to the public and partly friends-only. On my profile page, I give the links to several examples of my writing at various communities. Browse through them and through past entries here. Do leave a comment here after friending me and I'll add you back. You must comment first; it can just be a little one-sentence affair; then I will add you , unless we have absolutely nothing in common.
I've moved on to artemisiadreams.livejournal.com
So many things have changed in the eleven weeks it has been since I last posted here. Don't expect the same girl. The girl over at artemisiadreams is my authentic self, regardless of how many masks she's juggling for people.
Headliner 2 from Naughty Monkey
Walk the Talk from Naughty Monkey
I have so much love for this company
"Let, let, let go once in a while. You are a loose lily floating down an amber river. ... Sorry, I hate my job."
Time for a fresh start, don't you think?
I want to copy all the nicer posts from here to my hard drive, and then make this journal defunct. Not delete it, because there are too many interesting people and communities that I still want to read. But perhaps erase the profile, maybe delete the old posts if I can figure out an efficient way of doing so, and put a big link as to where my new and hopefully more active blog will be.
Because yes, I do plan on moving. Where? No idea. Its simply....time for a fresh start.
(Randomly, bless Youtube for having lots of episodes for Black Books and QI. May even post some links to favorite portions later.)
I remember Daddy saying keep your eye on the ball
Run like hell, play to win, get up when you fall
Don't say nothing that you can't take back
Never do anything you might regret
No don't do that
Daddy, I'm trying
Know the difference between heaven and hell
Go easy on the bottle
Be hard on yourself
But all I can do, is all I can do
And I keep on trying
And all I can be, is all I can be
And I keep on trying
There's always a mountain in front of me
Seems I'm always climbing, then falling, then climbing
But I keep on trying
It's getting up early pulling double shifts
Gonna make an old man of me long before I ever get rich
But I'm trying.
", by Trace Adkins, second stanza, chorus, and last stanza
Once in a while I am reminded of why some country is still good music.
"Because they're songs about me
Just a few sentences, though, containing nothing of importance.
I suppose the one thing that I want to get off my chest (even if I'm only confessing to myself), is how bad work is. Yesterday, a combination of unfortunate events collided, and after a morning spent being chewed out and defending myself against inaccurate accusations and petty rivalries, I was so stressed out that I couldn't eat. Had a few bites of a mandarin orange and was quickly nausated. However, I'm stuck there unless an event comes up that's bigger than myself...anything more urgent than a steady paycheck.
That feels somewhat better.
Thank the gods the day had one bright spot--a package in the mail from the person who remembered my birthday. ;-) Other than that and a small present from my mother, my 18th passed without comment.
Like I said earlier: a post of no importance. My recent days have been filled with work, studying ahead in the math and pathophysiology books for next semester, visiting my grandmother every few nights, and continuing to be stressed over the fact that I have almost no time left to read the pleasure books I checked out from the library over this mini-break.
The worse life gets, the more vivid my hair color gets. At least it seems that way. I finally found a stylist--organic! amazing! chic!--who is really to experiment with the brighter reds and oranges in the color palette. I've a hair appointment next Thursday night after work.
On the subject of "organic!" and "amazing!", I took an unprecendented route and decided to go as green and natural as I could. Even I, a junk food and bad living queen, am not quite sure what prompted this notion. But it feels rather good.
I think my subconscious is trying to prode me out of admittedly bad habits. :-) Taking energy and caffeine pills in the morning, downing them with frozen lattes and mochas, just to have enough energy to keep up at work even on a slow day...never sitting down to eat (unless you count eating while driving as a sit-down meal)...and being too stressed to go to sleep unless I take some other capsule. And those are the normal days. Factor in days like yesterday, when I couldn't eat but just kept stepping outside to smoke (an excellent appetite suppressant), and you've a great recipe for disaster in a few years or so.
(Can you tell I'm trying to convince myself along the way?)
But, I went to EarthFair Market on Monday and bought a week's worth of groceries for just under $30. Everything I've had so far has been very good food...even the Apple Flavoured Chicken Sausages. That errand was quickly followed by a dash into Asheville's main library, where I found two books so good I had to order used copies for myself online: Its Easy Being Green and The Energy Addict (appropriate?).
Hmm...I feel like detailing a bit of the weekend that just ended.
My nephew, AJ, spent the night from Saturday to early Sunday. And of course, being a curious two-year-old, he is always an adventure. Love him to pieces.
On Sunday, I had volunteered to help hold down a parking lot for Special Olympics, during the large Bele Chere Festival in Asheville. That is a three day event that takes over every square inch of downtown with live music, shopping, and all that jazz, all of which usually draws thousands. This year was their 30th anniversary, as well.
I took my close friend Sarah with me, and after a few hours of filling up the parking lot, we turned in our large signs, left our respective street corners, and went through the festival. I had no intentions of going until she called, but we had a great time. Did a lot of browsing...some unique jewelry stands, and one stand where everything--from bracelets to pickle stickers to earring holders--was made from Civil War era spoons. On the top of North Leicester Avenue, who slope reminds me of pictures of the streets in San Fransisco, Sarah bought a small, brightly colored and handmade journal from a company called Mr. Ellie Pooh. Their draw? All of their paper is made from elephant dung, in order to support the elephant population in Sri Lanka that is approaching extinction.
The company advocate tactfully failed to mention this until after we had picked up and handled the products. *laughs* But I do think it is a great idea. Oh, and on that street we signed a petition to savea 150 year old magnolia tree, were given the choice of free paper fans and water from a variety of political groups, and felt a distinctive vibration coming from down North Leicester Avenue. Because I have steel rods in my back, the pressure coming off of bass, drums, and other high decibel items is always an interesting and somewhat intense feeling.
Well, this particular vibration was coming from all the way down the Avenue and was being produced by a fantastic Jamaican band. We hurried towards the stage in the middle of the set, and noticed the crowd thinning out as we worked our way to the very front. There were people dancing there, absolutely soaked in sweat and shedding clothes, most of whom you could tell were actually from Asheville. One older man, drink in hand, who was flailing around everyone; a young girl in a huge blue taffetta skirt that spread out about three feet around her knees, striped stockings, and melting glitter eyeshadow, who danced very sweetly with her boyfriend and mother, kissing the both of them; boys and girls in dreads jumping up and down; many people simply swaying; the majority flashing various signals, making the peace sign, throwing one-armed fists in the air.
Of course, Sarah and I had to spontaneously join in. The band semi-taught a dance during a heavy war and peace song, where they talked in thick accents about freedom and Iran. They also had the people "rapping" at the very end, by shouting the band's name out and having it shouted back. But the best part was their final song. They had the requisite solos from every member--two drum sets, bass guitar, guitar, singers, and dancers. The bassist and guitarist went head to head, playing their instruments with their teeth, behind their head, between their legs, and ended by rapidly playing the other's instrument.
But the singer! He showed us how to dance and the applause exploded. He then took off his shoes and socks, the volume level went up, and he danced again. Then he lost his hat, pointed to his diamond earrings, danced some more...took off the huge tie-dye shirt and danced. You could catch a glimmer of something brightly colored and lacy when he did that, but it wasn't until he took off his jeans that you realized he was wearing pantaloons and a red lace negligee. Eventually he had nothing on but the negligee, at which point he switched styles, bent over at the waist, and began dancing like some models in certain videos.
Went back to the car blistered, tired, and desperately thirsty...so we bought water for people to pour over our heads and then traveled to the pool.
All of it Very Asheville. Very fun.
(The Gibson Girls ought to come here one year to check out the sights. *mischievious* )
Well, I was tagged for a bookish meme by Rissa. Here goes!
Link to the person that tagged you, post the rules somewhere in your meme, answer the questions, tag six people in your post, let the tagees know they’ve been chosen by leaving a comment on their blog, let the tagger know your entry is posted.
Who is your all-time favorite author and why?
Hmmm. Ergh. *draws a name out at random from the messy top-hat of her mind* Oscar Wilde. Decadent aesthetics. Talks about superficiality; everything profound is treacherously underneath the superficiality. "All art is at once surface and symbol. Those who go beneath the surface do so at their peril. Those who read the symbol do so at their peril."
Who was your first favorite author and why? Do you still consider him/her to be among your favorites?
Well, Jane Austen with her Pride and Prejudice. I read that when I was about nine, for the first time, and I recall being very proud of myself for finishing a "classic" book. And yes, she's still among my favorite authors, although Persuasion is now my favorite of her novels.
Who is the most recent addition to your list of favorite authors, and why?
I've become rather cavalier about my reading lately (since it become necessary to balance all the unamusing necessities of modern adult life). Its very terrible. But maybe Alexander McCall Smith, despite the years it has been since we first met. I think to read both his Sunday Philosophy Club series and his No. 1 Ladies Detective Agency series back to back (as I did) is quite eye-opening. He has a great range of style and viewpoints. The action is slow-moving, but the plot very descriptive. And then throw in the unique Porteguese Irregular Verb series too...oh, and the stand alone 44 Scotland Street. *sighs winsomely*
If someone asked you who your favorite authors were right now, which authors would first pop out of your mouth?
Oscar Wilde, Jane Austen, Elizabeth Bishop (solely for her Art of Losing poem), Walt Whitman, P.G. Wodehouse, Sarah Ban Breathnach, Robert Louis Stevenson, L.M. Montgomery, Barbara Vine / Ruth Rendell, Agatha Christie, Ann B. Ross, Shakespeare, Omar Khayyam, Rumi...and then there are so many more people and texts flitting around the edges of my mind. To quote Rissa, "And then I’d stop and scratch my head and wonder who I’d forgotten."
Anyone who pleases to keep filling out this meme.
I present to you...the rough beginnings of a photo album detailing the Wild West Adventures of the Gibson Girls in Colorado!Ta-Da!
Well, I'm over the funky mood of the last post.
Today was an interesting Sunday. I've been horribly jet-lagged and horribly busy--perhaps three or so hours of sleep per night, if that--and Saturday night was my only chance to really sleep at last. And right across the backyard was the anniversary of Bud Hall's Auto Parts, with the local radio station's house band playing some oldies and some modern pop-rock. In my basement apartment, that meant I had fantastic surround sound of every microphone adjustment.
My close friend, Sarah, woke me up close to noon this morning. After running some errands, I picked her up to go eat an extremely late breakfast at IHOP. Ooohhh....and we discovered the joys of their Chocolate Chip Pancakes...the ones made with chocolate chips, in a chocolate batter, with more chocolate chips sprinkled on top, dusted sugar, whipped cream, and butter. The only thing that made it better was drizzling strawberry syrup all over the whole thing. Utter bliss.
Back at her house, we alternated between tickling each other randomly as we sprawled out on the sunny bed or bedroom floor, napping, chatting, reading aloud, and watching extremely stupid cartoons while sitting on top of each other.
All of the sudden, we got a burst of energy, hopped up, drove back to my apartment to grab the camera, some dressier clothes, and cash, and went to a late-night movie: "You Don't Mess with the Zohan". That was so bad it was funny. Played endless rounds of "Extreme Dance Dance Revolution" up in the arcade section--particularly the remixed versions of "We Will Rock You" and "Saints Go Marching In". That was enough incentive to drive to the deserted church near Sarah's house. I parked the car close to the gates, with all the windows down, turned some good mixed CDs up, and we crawled under the gates to go dancing and twirling, waving, of course, at every car that slowed down as they passed by.
Now I should probably go back to studying for the test in twelve hours.