We Interrupt Your Regularly Scheduled Internet Perusing To Warn You...

Holiday Awareness Message:

This is not a test!  Repeat, this is not a test.  This Holiday Season, you should be on the lookout for creepy things hidden within innocent-looking Christmas items, which grocery stores stock around this time of year.  Their nefarious scheme is to turn Christmas into Halloween in order to make more money by selling things like this:

But be not afraid!  By instituting the annual Holiday Awareness Message, also known as the "Christmas H.A.M.", we are dedicated to increasing awareness for what to do if you find yourself an unwitting consumer of one of these dangerous items...

So please, be safe this season.  And don't try to be a hero.  These food items are dangerous, and should not be approached without due fierceness and preparation.

Tanks in the House

I would write a real post, but Steve just bought the sixth season of House.  We've watched two episodes already, and they're absolutely mind-blowingly amazing.

So I'll just update you on my parades and be done with it, since we both know that's what you're here for, right?

Because guys, they got tanks.

I don't know how they did it.  They even have little military pickup trucks!

First banners, then instruments, and now this?  They're showing off new skills every day...

The Last Point is the Most Thought Provoking

Metamorphic

My gaze is anchored to my reflection

and I squint oceanic eyes, scrutinizing the parts of me that everyone else can see.

In a sudden, unanticipated movement,

my fingers dart up to brush aside a lock of hair.

A similarly abrupt motion

tugs down the hem of the shirt that I always sleep in.

After several minutes, I stop adjusting everything about myself,

even though I'm still not satisfied.

I stretch out my hand for a tissue and grimace at the familiar pain.

Retrieving my hand, I squeeze the finger with the paper cut that has been

hurting me all day.

Eventually, I stop dwelling on that, too.

I swipe the tissue across my lips,

transforming

my mouth from Hollywood shiny to natural and unadorned.

After sleep takes me, an angry man's face appears in my mind, his mouth wide in fury.

His fist rises above me, poised to fall full force.

I turn my head away from the coming blow and before my eyes is my mother, dying.

She sighs out her last breath and I feel like my heart has crumpled under that delicate expulsion.

My body, aware of my mind's distress, twists and tosses to get away from it.

Is it my mind or the distress that it's trying to escape?

It causes my blankets to wrap around me tightly in a chrysalis that no longer lets me move,

leaving me vulnerable to the torments that plague my mind.

Jeering, hateful words come out of the shadows.

I'm standing under stage lights, with caked make-up covering my face and a huge fancy dress.

All of it is uncomfortable and I want to be rid of it,

despite what my cynical audience thinks.

Dread overcomes me. The overwhelming thought is, suddenly,

What have I done?

Those stage lights fall before me, but they are now a bonfire.

Someone is throwing masks into the fire.

The masks have every expression, every different kind of face, but they're being turned to ash.

They are my masks! Someone has to save them!

I turn around, looking for someone to help me, and there he is.

He is obvious perfection.

Somehow, I know that I love him...

but when I embrace him, his fond and radiant smile becomes fangs, and his face becomes a monster's.

At last, I awake.

In a frenzy, I fight my way out of the blanket that encloses me.

Finally freed,

I stride toward that mirror whose opinion used to mean so much.

My arm muscles tense and my hand lashes out,

paper cut forgotten.

Something tumbles. Something cracks.

Now the glass is broken.

I look up at it to blink

in surprise

and something falls from each of my eyes. In the sink lie two circles of blue.

In fragmented reflections of the mirror, I see

my true green eyes: the color that I'd almost forgotten.

This time, I don't stare for very long.

Instead, I look around for whatever it was that tumbled when my reflection got broken.

There, in the trash can. It's lip gloss that I recognize,

although I feel like it belongs to some other girl.

I won't bother getting it out.

--------------------------------------------------------

Just thought I'd entertain you with something I wrote a while back, since I had ideas for a blog post today, but after a full day of work, I promptly forgot them.

On a different note, I built a parade route for my little people in City of Wonder!

Now they can march without distractions.
More importantly, I can zoom in and do nothing but watch my parades now.

It should also be noted that they have once again switched to fans and banners.  

I am convinced there is a pattern to this that I must decipher.

The Goblin King's Domain and Still Honored

I watched Labyrinth for the first time ever today.  (I blame it on the fact that I was too sheltered growing up.)

Impressions:

1)  If I had seen it earlier, in my childhood, like I bet most people did, I think I would have liked it a lot more.  The old special effects and bratty main character would have seemed more fun and less irritating.

For an ugly worm, he was surprisingly cute.
But not exactly a realistic-looking creature.
Looks kind of plastic-y.
Maybe his mother was a film canister.

2)  I saw more of this David Bowie guy than I wanted to.

There's a certain focal point in this picture,
and it doesn't count as a character...

3)  I liked Sarah's obvious character development from beginning to end.  You don't always see that much in today's movies.

This point, of course, needs a picture to go along with it
in order to make it seem even more interesting.

4)  As Steve and I instantly agreed, the most awesome part of the movie was the stairway room.

As an added bonus, his man-parts aren't featured as prominently here.

5)  The second coolest thing was the helping hands.

The way the thumbs protrude enough to catch the light and make eyes?
Pure genius.

6)  Overall, it was much more goofy and less dark than I expected it to be.

I didn't know ahead of time that the movie even HAD puppets.

Commenter Questions: Did Sara's brattiness drive you crazy when you first saw Labyrinth?  Do David Bowie's prominent man-parts strike you more as sexy or trashy?  What's your favorite part of the movie?


Also, I feel it important to mention that in City of Wonder, my parade has now changed again.

Banners and...sousaphones??

My faithful subjects like giving me variety.


all pictures found using Google Images

To be the Honor of Parades in a City of Wonder

I built a city a couple of days ago.  Today, the economy and population really took off.

City of Wonder is a Facebook application/game, and like all the others, it can be addicting under the right circumstances.  As it turns out, snow+winter break+a laptop+internet are ideal mating grounds.

When I started playing, I had no idea what I was doing.  First, I'm happily buying things that do...things.  Then, suddenly:

Me: What is that?  What is that?  Steve, what's that fog stuff?  What's that on my screen?

Steve: Those are clouds.

Me: Clouds?!

Steve: Yeah, they're just clouds.  See?

Me: What are those doing there?  I didn't buy those!

Steve: Uh, the clouds are free.

I guess I'm a little excitable sometimes.

After a while, I got the hang of it, and now I mostly know what I'm doing.  And I quickly discovered (with Steve's help) that when you do enough of the right things, the little people in your civilization get happy and put on a little parade for you!

They love me...they really love me!

And, even better: after good encounters with other civilizations, their little leaves get upgraded to trumpets. ^_^

Which also, for some reason, made them change direction.

They only have a big square of road to march along, but do you think that stops them?  Their devotion is boundless.  And watching those tiny little people march around and around is so adorable that it makes me smile lovingly at the computer screen just to see them.

I could tell you more about other aspects of the game, but to be honest, I'm more delighted about that little parade than just about anything.  (After all, don't people always say to "write what you're passionate about"?)

You can't really tell how cute it is until you see it animated.

Can I Bring My Cane?

Some people are terrified of the internet.  These people are usually either: 

1) old people

2) the paranoid

or

3) time travelers.

What's so scary about the interwebz?  

Is it the fact that stupidity has become contagious on a global scale now, as can be seen with lolcat language?

Is it due to the free sharing of information, like those sites that tell you how to construct a bomb?

Usually, it's purely due to accessibility.

Take blogs, for instance.  Bloggers are the craziest people out there, because they put PERSONAL stuff on the INTERNET, guys.  Like...their first names.

Plus, I've been told that YouTube is a bad site and that I should never, ever go to it.

Which brings me to the real reason that people are scared half the time: they don't know what they're talking about.  They're so afraid of technology that they refuse to learn to use it, which, of course, contributes to fear of the unknown.   Which leads to circular patterns and their head subsequently exploding, because that's what happens when irony attacks those too old and/or feeble to handle it.

(Late Disclaimer: I can poke fun at old people.  I've had cataracts.  And I've been forced to use a walker after breaking my leg.  I've been there.)

Wow, that makes me sound bitter.  It's not really that I dislike those people; if they don't want the internet, they can do what they want and not have it.  The thing that actually irritates me is closed-mindedness.

Am I right?

all pictures found using Google images 

Mikey the Bridesmaid

I get more done when I procrastinate.  It's just that the stuff I'm supposed to be doing gets finished last.

Speaking of which, tonight I have determined what one of my best friends, Mikey, will wear to my wedding some day.  I asked him whether he preferred a tux or a dress, and his answer led to...interesting conclusions.  Behold what we chose:

with this hair:

this:

with this:

and these:

So, what do you think?  Will he make a lovely bridesmaid?

I told him to think of all the places a dollar bill would fit in that outfit...

He said to stop trying to make money off of his money-makers.
But I think it could offset the cost of materials nicely.


all pictures found using Google images

If You Read This Post Two Days After I Post It, This One's For You

You know what's bad for me?  I mean, it's good, but it's really, really bad.

Other lazy people.

Because when I'm goofing off, not getting things done that I should have started sooner and all that, the other lazy people out there are full of support.

"Yeah, you didn't start your paper until the day of?  My neither!  Ha ha, I know, right?"

"Oh, I'm so behind too!  I'm not really worried about it, though.  I'll probably start on it the hour before it's due."

You know why people have this attitude?  Because it's the only fun thing to do with procrastination.  It makes them feel better about it, because then they fit in with all the other procrastinators, and together, they can laugh at deadlines and all those goody-two-shoes-do-gooders that actually started the project the week before.

And by "they", I mean "we".

You're reading the words of a girl that wrote more than half of her NaNo novel in the last four days of November.  THE LAST FOUR DAYS.

This was my graph:

Yeah, check the "Words Written Today" number.  It was intense.  Like driving on ice.

So when it comes crunch time and I'm avoiding schoolwork as much as possible, I'm blaming it on the other procrastinators of my generation.

Maybe I'll take the blame later, if I feel like it.

Can Tutus Attack People?

Help me.

I'm going girly.

Okay, so maybe I'm overreacting a little.  Combing through the entire beauty section of Wal-Mart isn't so bad if I didn't buy everything I thought about buying, at least.  It's just that...I wasn't emotionally prepared for femininity to smack me in the face.  Where the heck did this sudden interest come from?

I'm pretty sure that most females go through this stage when they're, like, ten.  Since I have approximately a decade on those girls, I guess that officially makes me a late bloomer in the area of beauty products.

Before now, I'd had what I like to call the "man" approach to showering.

But now?  Now, my friends, I have bought things like facial cleanser, conditioner, and, terrifyingly...a "loofah".

I don't know what's happening, but it's trying to make me soft and pretty and moisturized.

The only thing saving me from pink and frilly murdering me in my sleep is that:
I bought this too.

My necessary level of testosterone sanity lives to fight another day.

all photos found using Google Images

You Don't Have To Be Dead To Be Epic

One of the coolest things I learned from NaNoWriMo was how a writer's values make the story something you can analyze, and in doing so, learn about the way the author's mind works.

It's cool, because I'm an English major (meaning: I analyze literature a lot), and I always figured that the authors I was reading and analyzing thought through all the things they wrote painstakingly.  As if they were hunched over their little story with a pen in one hand and a fork in the other, and any time their work didn't have some huge earth-shattering meaning behind it, they stuck the fork in a wall socket to jump-start their brains into thinking epic thoughts.

At some point during this month, I looked at something I'd written and realized that what I think of as the truth just magically shows through in the things I write.

You can actually mistakenly write a piece of literature that someone else can analyze.  In fact, I might venture to say that all literature does this in some way.

I just thought that was really cool.

Novelist? YES! It's official!

I WON NANOWRIMO THIS YEAR!

I'm so freaking excited.

I learned so much along the way that it's ridiculous.  I know that sounds cheesy, but I am a writer and I am unashamed (I yell as I brandish my pen and notebook...computer)!

And the plot practically wrapped itself up on its own.  I swear, it's magical.

Don't worry, my lovelies.  I will be back to post more regularly now.

Maybe.

Okay, maybe instead of "more regularly", I should say "more often".

Whatever. :)

Making Mind-Crushing Despair...Music

Handbell choir.

The one I'm in sucks. 

Handbells: they only want to be touched a certain way.

I could blame it on the players.  I could talk about how despite the fact that all but two of us are music majors (the two that aren't are two of the best ones in it, actually), people refuse to count and for some reason, can't seem to play eighth notes.  Or even quarter notes on the right beat sometimes.

Despite how we make it sound,
this is not what's happening to our music on a regular basis.

If I didn't want to go into that, I could talk about how our director has more fun yelling "you sound like you're playing this for the first time!" than telling us how to fix it, or how he sings along with the music while we're playing but does it WRONG and messes everyone up.

If I wanted, I could go into how no one is inspired to do well and the few people that work hard are so fed up that they've given up completely.



This is what it looks like when someone goes over the edge. 
It's not pretty.

One way or the other, it all comes down to this: we're so bad that when we had our concert, we all begged our friends and family NOT to come.

Then I found out that our director had told other music professors not to come.

That's how bad we are.

And now he wants us to play several pieces for a classical music radio station, which apparantly a gazillion people listen to at any given time. 

I've had enough.

Next semester, if we don't have a new director, new policies, or a small ensemble (or preferably all three), I'm done.

If not, I might have to do something drastic.  (See "throwing" picture above, and insert deserving victim to be the target.)



I'll let you know how it all goes.

pictures found using Google Images and edited as needed

The Weed of Destiny

Guest blogging time!

Today, we're hearing from The Weed from the blog called, coincidentally, The Weed.  (He sure makes it easy, doesn't he?)   I would give him a nice, informative introduction, but honestly, he'll tell you all you really need to know.  And he's funny as heck.

------------------------------------------------------------------

Hello.
My name is The Weed I am writing a guest post in this blog because I was meant to from the beginning of time.

Here's how it all happened.

I was doing this thing that I like to call "writing research" but which is actually just reading a bunch of people's blogs for hours and hours and hours, and suddenly I stumbled upon a post that spoke to me. Like, literally spoke to me. (Not "literally spoke to me" because that would be terribly creepy and would probably mean I have schizophrenia.)

See, there was this post all about seeking a guest blogger and how it would be awesome (it's possible you have read this post--it was posted on this very blog) and I was like "Lah-dee-dah-reading-random-blog-mindlessly..." and then I saw the following:

If you're interested, and by "you" I mean you, sitting there reading this and pretending that I'm talking to one of the other readers even though I'm reaching out to you specifically from the depths of my soul, leave a comment or email me at pyra.extrano@gmail.com. And thanks in advance!

And I suddenly knew with the same type of certainty that I "know" I better get to the bathroom soon or I'll have an accident in my pants or that I "knew" my wife was the woman I was supposed to married that, for sure, without a doubt, I needed to guest post, and that that paragraph was talking about me, and that the universe would benefit from this collaboration. So, I wrote back and said:

Listen, I don't know you at all--just stumbled on your blog during a long sequence of blog-hopping, but I've gotta tell you, when you said "and by 'you' I mean you sitting there reading this and pretending that I'm talking to one of the other readers even though I'm reaching out to you specifically from the depths of my soul..." I seriously felt you talking to me and we shared this really cool mind-meld (I'm pretty sure you felt it, too) and it was awesome and I was like "Yes. I will guest post on your blog. And it will be awesome and the heavens will resound in joy and this event will be heralded by the birth of cute kittens and the whinny of unicorns and the conquering of small, communist empires. I firmly believe this blogging connection was always, always meant to happen." So, if you're serious, send me an email at inattentive(dot)subtype(at)gmail(dot)com and I will totally do it.


And if you're not serious? You just made my soul ache...

The very next day, I got an email saying that I could guest post in a way that was at once encouraging, but which I think might have actually been saying "You seem mildly psychotic. Surprisingly, I think I will allow you to post on my blog anyway because I'm that busy."

And now, here I am, preparing a post.

The cosmos is a crazy, amazing thing, isn't it?

The cosmos: lots of crazy, coincidental crap happens here every day.

Wanna know another way the cosmos is crazy and weird and this post was supposed to happen since the beginning of time?

Guess what three topics were given to me as suggestions for this post.

1. Writing (to keep up with the theme of nanowrimo). Turns out, I happen to be an aspiring writer myself!!! What are the freaking chances of that happening here on the internet where bloggers (who like to write) find other bloggers (who also like to write)? I was like, "Deidra, are we writing soul-mates???" So yeah, pure serendipity.

2. Movies. Whoa. Not only have I watched a lot of movies (unlike all those other people out there who haven't really seen movies), but I'm actually writing a movie. Right now. What are the freaking chances??????

3. Women. Okay, so, I happen to be an expert on this subject. Wanna know why? First of all, the two fields I work in (education and psychology/counseling) are replete with women. I was always one of like 3 dudes in a class of 30 women all through college and grad school and it kinda gave me a complex and made me wonder occasionally about my gender identity. BUT not only that, I am 30 year old man who is married, and I have three daughters (all under the age of four, and who, yes, are adorable). So, obviously "Women" is one of the things I know MOST about, except for the things I don't understand, which about 93% of what they do.

As you can see, this collaboration was fate wrapped in karma filled with serendipity and sprinkled with a little bit of destiny.

In conclusion: if you keep your mind open and your heart pure, and if you spend hours and hours reading the writings of other cool people like Deidra, then you, too, might have your moment of glory, wherein you get chosen (or allowed with cautious reservations) to ramble at length about writing a blog post you will never actually have to write because you've been so long-winded talking about the process of getting chosen to write it that actually writing a post is no longer feasible.

Isn't destiny awesome?


The Weed writes a blog called "The Weed" which is awesome and filled with destiny. If destiny is particularly speaking to you, you can also follow him on twitter.


picture found using Google Images

9 (The Ragdoll Hero in a Post-Apocalyptic Steampunk World)

So, I just watched 9.

It's weird.

For the first five or ten minutes of the movie, there's no dialogue.  9 wakes up alone in a post-apocalyptic world and we, like him, have no idea what happened to humanity.

He ventures out to find a steampunk, ruined world with no growing things and very few things living.  He soon meets 2.  And the Beast.

As the plot progresses, he meets the other inhabitants of the world, all numbered like him.  These inhabitants live in hiding, fearful of the machines that roam the barren planet outside.  Eventually, we learn that machines turned against humans and in a massive war, managed to wipe them all out, leaving only these little rag-doll creations and a few bits of malevolent machinery to occupy planet Earth.

I wasn't sure what to think of this movie.  By far, the best part was a handful of the characters who, to me, seemed extremely loveable.  And okay, I'll say it: they were adorable, too.

Curse my female sentimentalities, but they won me over.

On a somewhat broader note, I was perplexed.  The plot seemed to wind back and forth, with more of a series of small "quests" than a strong unifier tying everything neatly together.  It's true that the plot did go somewhere in the end, but let's not talk about the ending.  I expected it to end...well, a little happier than it did.  It did make a point to end on a hopeful note, but...well, not as many characters survived as I expected.

The more I think back on it, though, the more I kind of like it, for its uniqueness more than anything. 

I wouldn't recommend this movie strongly, but if you're bored, why not?  And if you're a lover of the bizarre, it's definately worth a try.


all pictures found using Google Images

Oh, November Time

Hi there!  I have a little break between classes now, which isn't really enough time to work on anything, but might be just the right amount for a post!

NaNo is going pretty well.  I'm at almost 8,000 words right now (although I haven't updated the word count on the sidebar yet).  I would be further along, but a variety of things got in the way of novelling, including my participation in a terrible handbell choir concert and a few long work days.  I plan to catch up soon!  I really enjoy my novel this year, and it's fun to have the kind of creative liberties I've been giving myself.  I can't wait to see where it all goes next.  When I have a little more time, I'll tell you more about the story.

My brother and I rented a couple of movies last night, and I watched Sherlock Holmes for the first time.  I have to admit, I like Robert Downey Jr. better in Iron Man, but this film wasn't bad.

We also got 9, a brainchild of Tim Burton's.  I've been curious about it for a while, but have very little idea as to what it's actually about (something post-apocalyptic about a mad scientist or something...).  I'll have to fill you in once I've seen it to let you know if it's any good!

I'm sure it will prove to be interesting, at any rate.  With Tim Burton, I expect no less.

Lastly, I'm already getting excited for Christmas!  This is what I get for trying to plan out people's presents early.  I've only bought one thing so far, but I have high hopes for all the presents I'm getting for everyone this time around, considering that this year I actually have money.  Now I have the chance to see exactly how thoughtful I am when I have the funds to support it.  I hope not to dissapoint...


picture found using Google Images

Nomming on the Keyboard

1,765!

Since I've surpassed the official day one word count goal, I'm allowing myself to post for you, my lovely readers!

I had actually forgotten how amazing this kind of writing is.  Yes, it's a shameful and disgraceful thing that I actually let myself forget that.  I'm telling you, NaNo is magical for bad, bad writers like me who don't keep up with the creative practicing that they should.  There's really nothing for motivation like having thousands of other people do it with you!

(Hmm...please don't take that last sentence out of context, because then it just sounds wrong...)

What was amazing about today's writing is that although I had little idea what I was doing (since I haven't yet gotten to the part of the plot that I actually know what I'm doing with), things just managed to come together.  A large section of my world just came together before my eyes!  I'm working in "our regular" world, but it's set far enough in the future that I can do pretty much whatever I want and get away with it by saying that things have changed. :)

Suddenly, my main character has a job and a life outlook to go with it.  I've also introduced one of my secondary characters much earlier than planned.

All this adds up to a very happy writer.

Except for the fact that my pre-NaNo grocery shopping is already very obviously turning out not to be enough.  I thought I'd gotten a lot of food.  Maybe I underestimated my ability to eat.  Looks like I'll have to get more soon, in any case.  I mean, what's the point of a NaNo Bunker if it doesn't have a month's worth of food supply?

At least I haven't run out of chocolate yet.  That's when it gets serious.

 

picture found using Google Images

College-Aged Novelist Seeks Brilliant Blogger

It's coming...


NANOWRIMO!


There's more than one way to wax a cat...?

Yep, I'm doing it again this year.

(For those of you who have no idea what the heck I'm talking about: take this.)

I was freaking out because I didn't have a plot (and in case you don't know this: I always freak out over not having a plot), but last night, I got some quality help from some quality people and KA-BLAM, a lovely plot fell right into place! 

These people deserve cookies.  And I'm talking about the fresh, warm, gooey kind that release instant endorphins and make your knees weak from pure joy.

So now I may have little idea of what's actually going to happen, and of course no outline whatsoever, but since I have a basic plot idea, I'm as happy as a carp in a septic tank.  (Got that quote of a bumper sticker once.)


Since I'm going to be pretty busy during November with my novel (which is unnamed as of yet...and btw, this is one of the reasons to join NaNo: you get to refer to things like "my novel" and that, my friends, feels lovely), I think now is the perfect opportunity to ask:
Who's up for guest posting?

I follow a lot of fantastic blogs by bloggers a heck of a lot more talented than me, so I know you guys are out there.  How would you feel about guest posting here at Lantern of Lightning?  I don't exactly have a theme going here, so any topic of your choice can be up for consideration.  Although I say the funnier, the better.

Or: what if you're a reader that doesn't have a blog, but would like to be a blogger for just one day?  I don't know; I might be heaping a world of trouble on myself for asking that question, but it sounded fun so what the heck.  Maybe there's a good reason you're not a blogger, but you won't know until you try, right? 

I mean, the worst that can happen is that you write up a blog post so horrible that it spirals you into a depression that makes you want to cut off your fingers from the terrible writing you've produced, which causes you to bleed out and for one of your loved ones to be fatally traumatized from finding you and rushing you to the hospital, where they say that they now have to amputate your arms and feet due to the extent of the blood loss you endured in your self-depreciating fit of rage.

I say it's worth a shot.


(If you're interested, and by "you" I mean you, sitting there reading this and pretending that I'm talking to one of the other readers even though I'm reaching out to you specifically from the depths of my soul, leave a comment or email me at pyra.extrano@gmail.com.  And thanks in advance!)


image found using Google Images

Unfathomable Females

Now, before you point out the obvious: yes, I am aware that I'm a woman.  I've had the indicators for a while now.

I just don't happen to be the most girly girl you'll ever meet.  There are a few things I get girly about (which Steve loves to remind me of when I start renouncing my feminine qualities), but most of the time, I can't identify with really girly women.

Which is where this list comes from.

Things I Don't Understand About Women

• The fascination with shoes.  Especially uncomfortable ones.

(If you haven't guessed, I wear tennis shoes, converse, or skate shoes most of the time, and I wear one pair until they wear out.  My current pair is purple tennis shoes, since I know you were wondering.)

• Purses.  There's nothing you girlies would put in a purse that I wouldn't put in my pockets.  At least, not anything you actually need.  (And while we're on the subject, girl's pants deserve big pockets too!  If any of you readers happen to be clothing designers, please give me some bigger pockets on my girl pants.)

• Blaming your period for your attitude.  Okay, maybe I "understand" this one, but I don't agree with it at all.  Yes, I have had times when my period made me feel yucky.  No, I didn't take that out on people I like.  The cycle happens every month; learn to deal with it already.

• Make-up.  It's more trouble than it's worth, except for occasional use.  And by "occasional", I mean maybe once every couple of months.

• Drama.  How is that a form of entertainment? 
  
  
• Being overly emotional about everything.  Not everything anyone says has a sinister underlying meaning, people.
  
  
• Manicures.
  
  
• The love of pink.  The only shade of pink worth anything looks like this:
  
  
  
  or maybe this:
   
  
  
  but NOT baby pink.
  
  
• The fear of dumb things, like bugs or harmless little spiders.  Being aware of their presence is one thing, and I'll even allow you to be paranoid and keep an eye on the little buggers.  However, screaming like a banshee and clawing the arm of the person nearest you is not an acceptable response.  The thing is barely a fraction of your size.  You look like a wuss.
  
  
  
• Enjoying things that make you cry.  If I only had a dollar for every time I've heard: "Oh, it's such a good movie; you have to see it.  It made me cry like a baby!"  Why do you want to cry?  Crying is an indication of bad things.  Let's not forget that.
• Tanning.
  

Anything you want to add to the list?

all images found using Google Images

Cheater, Cheater, Pizza Eater

Yesterday, a couple came in Pizza Hut (which is where I work, for all you newbies).  They seemed happy and friendly, and they were an older couple: the kind that makes you automatically smile to yourself when you look at them and you don't even realize you're doing it.

Since we didn't have anyone else but me and the manager in at the time, I acted as a waitress for them.  Now, I'm not normally the type to chat up people I don't know, even though I know it'll probably get me more tips, because traces of my childhood shyness are actually so strong that apparently you can't pay them to leave.

But keep in mind what type of people these were.  They were old and smiley, for gosh sakes!

"Are you two having a date night?"  I couldn't help grinning as I asked.  The woman beamed back at me.

"Yeah.  We don't get to see each other very often," she said.

Now call me imaginative, but I thought that was an interesting statement.  Even the most tame cause I could think of that may have kept the two of them apart was wrought with drama and heartache.

The rest of their stay was fairly uneventful, until the man asked me for one last favor before they left.

"Can we have a to-go box?"
And,after I got it for him, he added:
"We have a little microwave in the room we can use to heat it up."

Ooookay...so now it's completely his fault that my imagination's going wild.

These two ran away from their families to be together for the weekend!  Her grandchildren don't know!  His ex-wife would be appalled!  They've run away to this town for a romance-filled night of debauchery!

I guess I imagined something like this in their future.

Yet they seemed so nice.  This would be one of those stories where you'd actually root for the affair, like Ethan Frome without the sledding-attempted-suicide sequence.  (Which is total crap, by the way.  Did he really think they'd DIE from that?!)

This all goes to show that if you watch people long enough, you're sure to see interesting things.

Like the couple that came in one day with four kids and the woman said to the man:
"So, what are we going to do?  We're both still married."

As in, not to each other.

I think I need to go try to poke the horizon now.  That way I can prove to myself that it's not a backdrop, and that I don't, in fact, live on the set of some huge convoluted soap opera.

At least it's entertaining!

picture found using Google Images

(>_<)

I'm bored.

(That's not a complaint, that's a disclaimer.)

Don't worry; there will be no depression here today!  The sun's shining down on me this morning.  In fact, it's getting in my eyes, and if you don't know yet about my good-natured hatred of the sun, just believe me when I say that it feels like the sun mocking me, laughing at me from its high place and being all:

"I'mma GLEAM in your eyes and ruin your morning!"
"Whyyyyy...."

Sorry about how hard it is to read, but Blogger has decided to be a douchebag this morning about image sizing.

Darn shame, too.  I spent a lot of time on that.

Dipping Into Darkness

I've had this before.  It was only once, but that one time lasted a while.  Ever since then, I've wanted to avoid ever feeling it again no matter what.

I don't know what "depression" means to you, but this is mine: I don't get thoughts of suicide.  I don't sleep all day.  Instead, I get the same thoughts over and over and I get stuck in them.  I cry in classes, in my room alone, at the dinner table with my whole family there but being unable to tell them what's wrong.  Things that should make me happy seem fleeting and meaningless.

The first time this happened, it was triggered by a life event that meant me saying goodbye to a group of people forever (because they were going off to college, to bigger and better things).  I couldn't identify this trigger until someone thought of it and pointed it out to me, and it wasn't until then that I could recover.

Today, I felt it creeping up again. 

At first, I was just as lost as I had been before about the cause, but after thinking about it some more, I finally realized that it might have been from a conversation I had with someone about...well, "bigger" things than are usually covered in day-to-day conversations.  Once I identified that, I started to feel a little bit better.

But I wasn't sure if I'd be able to keep it at bay.

All I could think was:

When I get depressed, I become obsessed with mortality.  I remember the first time, when I couldn't stop thinking "life is so short, and it's so devastating when people you love die.  Life is so short."  That fact scared the crap out of me, because of course, there's nothing I can do about it.

Despite the fact that it started to trigger again today, I know that obsessing over life like this is doing nothing but wasting the time I do have.  And that I'm overreacting to something that's always there.

After a little while, I started to feel better.

I'm almost positive that my scare is over now.  That I have nothing to worry about and that this has already passed over me.

It's just that emotions can be so powerful and overwhelming sometimes, and I want anyone who's ever felt this to know that they're not alone.  I mean, I don't know if this thing that I go through is some sort of individualized...maybe lots of people get depressed, but this is the way that it has happened to me and other people don't get the same thoughts I do.  Maybe I'm my own special brand of screwed up, so different that I don't even have to patent the recipe!

But maybe not.

It does take a certain degree of courage to post this. It's a part of myself that no one knows about except a couple of close friends, who don't even know the whole story (and my immediate family, who saw me go through it). 

But I'm not here just to give you cotton candy and smiley faces.

I want to show you real things, which are often pretty but sometimes not so much.

Thanks for sticking through this and reading, even though today's post was pretty dark.  Don't worry, the darkness won't be allowed here again for a good, long time.

pictures found using Google Images 

How Writing Is Like Prostitution

"Writing is like prostitution. First you do it for love, then for a few close friends, then for money."

Hot Job Opportunity for Attractive Female Gamers

Listen to this: there's now a social networking site where male gamers can pay to play video games with hot girls.

From what I can find, it costs the guy about $8.25 for every ten minutes of gameplay (which is a total estimate since it actually works on a credit sytem).  You can either play simple Flash games like chess and checkers on the site, or play Xbox 360 live with either Modern Warfare 2, Gears of War 2, Grand Theft Auto IV, or Halo 3.  Everyone involved has to be 18 or older, and "PlayDates" are rated based on hotness, gaming skill, and flirtiness.  Players can choose between two types of girls: "flirty" or "dirty".

These women get to keep 60% of the money just for playing games and being flirty.  And they can block any Player for any reason, so they don't have to worry about harassment and crap.

This sounds like a really nice job if you're into that kind of thing!  I mean, I wouldn't really know how to flirt even if I had any interest in it, but getting payed to game?  I can definitely see the appeal.

Steampunk Hummingbird

Once again, I have something kind of awesome to share with you:

Have a nice weekend!

(P.S. I am currently at work. This thing is a "scheduled" post, so it's supposed to show up now even though I'm not at a computer since I typed it up in advance.  If it doesn't work, let me know!  Yeah, now think about that for a second...)

picture found using Google

Led into the Night

Night Walk, you tempt me.

You lean in close behind me until I feel the tickle of your lips whispering, breathing the words right next to my ear:

"Come out with me."

...

And I can't help myself.

I follow you, sometimes in streetlight, sometimes in the dark.  Sometimes there's a sidewalk but it often breaks off without warning, as if the cement-men expected pedestrians to simply vanish with nothing but pale wisps of smoke when their journey is done.

I follow you somewhat blindly. 

I'm glad you know where you're going.  Because I know how we got here...but not how we'll get back...

It's a good thing I trust you.

You stay silent for while, giving me time to sort out my cacophony of thoughts until they have faded into a calmer stream.  I appreciate that.  This kind of time is a rare thing for me.

Once I'm steady, you slowly begin to point out things to me.  You show me the shards of glass on the pavement that reflect light from who-knows-where to sparkle in a way that makes me wonder how something so dangerous could be so pretty.  You help me notice the only other night-walker out tonight: a man with rushed steps that hurry him down the road in the dark where only his purposeful silouette can be seen.

A pleasant, tiny jingling sound comes from my hand where I'm moving those little presents around in my palm.  After all, that's what they're meant for.

You take me across roads I've driven on in daylight, when the world is going-nonstop-busy, although they're empty and quiet now.  Then we go down streets that I didn't know where there, in little corners that don't exist for me outside of this peaceful solitude.

I feel like I could stay with you all night...
but I have things to do in the morning.

Nevertheless,we really must do this again soon.

image found using Google Images

Piercings, Dying of Overeating, and Transforming

I was randomly wondering the other day...how come this is socially acceptable in American culture:

but this

or this

 

isn't?

Pierced ears are a piercing, just like any other.  I mean, obviously.  But for some reason, most conservatives like to pretend that one hole in each earlobe are the only piercings you can have and still be "proper and stylish" or whatever they want to call it.  They even promote this, with the earrings they wear when they play dress up, like a "nice" pair of hoops to go with a Sunday dress. 

I mean, this is probably just something I notice because it's how people are in the area I live in for the most part, but it still kind of irks me.  Maybe people don't have the same attitude in the area you live in?  If you want to comment, tell me about the attitude towards piercings where you're from. 

Heck, maybe where you are, people won't hire you unless you have your nose pierced!  That would be an interesting concept.  Forget wasting money on fancy clothes: get a nice corkscrew to make you stand out from all those people with silver rings around their nostrils!

...I don't know.  Don't mind me.  I shouldn't have sat down to write this post without a detailed plan sketched out beforehand.



I learned today (in totally unrelated research about magic...it's a long story) that a tick is the only animal without an anus.  That means that it has no way to expel the food it eats, so even though their average lifespan is about a week, if one particular tick decided:

But, not literally.  Eww.

then it would actually swell up so much from all the intake that it would die sooner than all its more discriminating little tick buddies!  Instead of eating to live, like everyone else, ticks actually die sooner from it.  I feel like there could be some vast metaphor in that. 

Or maybe it's just God's permission for us to eat until we feel like we could burst. 

Even though we don't...actually burst.  Because we are superior to ticks in that respect.



Lastly, I said I would share something cool and steampunk with you!  So here's this:

Just a normal train, right?








NOT SO MUCH!

And that concludes today's random collection of pictures, since that's what this post turned into.

I mean, after Optimus Prime, there's really not much else to say.


all pictures found using Google Images