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Showing posts from May, 2011


I hate being sick. Like, really hate it. I think half of my frustration is being physically unable to rise to an occasion or push myself when needed. Like at work yesterday. I've caught myself slacking on the job recently as so I've been making an effort to really up my game. Except that yesterday I was hit by the insta-cold from hell. Runny nose, leaden head, sneezing & coughing, queasiness. Tired, achey. Grumpy and irritable. I was not a happy camper. And it made upping my game on a day as important as yesterday that much harder. See, with the holiday sale combined with recent efforts on our part to draw in more customers, we've been totally ballin this week. I think I did fairly well overall, but it was frustrating that I simply wasn't as up for it, physically, as I wanted. Of course pushing my limits/comfort zone wasn't going to be easy, but it shouldn't have been that hard. So I just really hate feeling sick. The whole gamut of it. The gross

O shit, dawg.

Do you know what today is? It's a really tripped out day for me. Not cuzza drugs or any particular insanity (as far as I know...). Nope, something much humbler--today marks one year of sobriety. I generally try not to make too big a deal of it most of the time, mainly cuz, ultimately, it isn't that big a deal. I haven't tried to brag about it or hide it. My experiences & struggles (& successes) in AA and sobriety are woven into many of my posts (which are usually, but not always, tagged "life"). I aim to present those posts 'as is'--omiting direct mentions or specifics as needed to preserve others' anonymity and keep the focus on me. What has been something of a big deal for me is my quality of life and the work I've put into getting there. Like, life is actually good these days. I can't remember ever feeling this generally contented with life and upbeat and happy and stuff--even back before I ever drank. I've gotten be

The return of Twitter, and other things.

What a weird, almost dissociative weekend. Rocky, floorset, and angst, and no twitter to joke/complain about it on. How the fuck did I survive that? Well, good news is my twitter's no longer suspended! That was an awful 4 or 6 days, guys. Don't ever take your twitter for granted. It's more important to you than you know, and you won't have anyone to tell that to (well, no one who'll care half as much as the twitterverse). Rocky was pretty badass, guys. I MC'd Friday night--and did fabulously :) Apparently I went on for 25 minutes, but neither I nor my cohosts remember it that way, which is just plain weird. Oh well, I had fun and did great and if I went on too long I'll just have to be quicker in the future. No biggie :) I also held the house left spotlight and played Crim, and pretty typical and fun combination as far as I'm concerned. I hadn't played Crim in a while though. Good times :) Saturday I was dropped in as a Tranny/prop person.

Twitter Suspension: Day 4 or 5

It's all become a blur since I lost my twitter account. I don't know how to carry myself anymore or how to handle ordinary situations. I'm just a mess. A softly weeping, crooning mess cradling my android with loving pity and confusion. It's not all that bad but I am kinda thrown by all this. As I mentioned in the video below, it's as much that old feeling of having "lost some part of me" as it is the losing the ability to complain to all my friends about it, too. At this point I'm considering making a "jail" account to use until (when? if?) my old one is reinstated. Hilariously, my biggest problem isn't whether to make it but what to name it. Ahaha. Ha. Yeah, I'm a little frustrated. Frustrated that it's taking them so long to check out an obvious mistake. Like, I emailed them giving them my best guess/explanation about what might have happened, even apologized, including most everything they'd need to scope it out. And s

One of these days....

So I think I've mostly gotten April outta my system. Esp the bemoaning certain boys over 4 separate posts. Fingers crossed.... One good sign, though, is I wrote a sad poem the other night that had NOTHING to do with that guy I was all minces butthurt about. Seriously--wasn't even thinking of him. I was actually thinking of an old love of mine, who, as far as I know has been roughly where I have in terms of enduring troubles and accomplishing life goals. Anyway I recorded what snippets I had here on the Droid, so maybe next time I have my headphones and a pen I'll work on it some. It's gonna start with: Where have we gotten to with our lives? In these last twenty-four years, We must have been headed somewhere. With something like thissy too: It's hard to say where we lost our way Since I'm not sure we ever really had one. And end with something like: Contentment aside--I just want Something to hang on to, Someone to hold close, And somewhere to go.

Angry Red Monthly (Angry Red Planet)

So many of the bad movies I watch are from bygone (?) eras in which women were little more than punchlines with tits and indentured housekeepers/babymakers. The dismissive, even derisive, way women were portrayed in film, then, shouldn't be too surprising. Most of the time women were "used", rather than "portrayed", in film. Some manage to do so in ways that still manage to surprise/boggle/entertain my mind. So many to choose from, really. Like, pretty much any pre-1990s thriller/horror/sci-fi flick would probably do. But I've chosen Angry Red Planet (1959) because, in my opinion, Planet is just  too good an example to pass up--it's what originally gave me my angle on this review. Frankly, I'm not entirely sure if it's hilarity comes out of caricature or failed correction of the norm. Screaming or about to eat her mate? You be the judge. And with that, I'll kick off what may turn into a long running, if only occasionally humored,

Endlessly Caving In.

Yeah, in case you hadn't already known, I'm a Muse fan. I stole this post's title from their hit "Hysteria". Seemed relevant--maybe because of its (ludicrously gorgeous) video. See, today I woke up with (yet another?) musing on obsession. And this video screams, to me, OBSESSION. Exaggerated, of course, but it's there. There's also the breakdown and the rage. I was thinking how much obsession can hurt, immediately begging the question "So, why obsess at all?" The answer may be self-evident, but still important and relevant to other hurty things that plague my life.

Behold My Mighty Teeth!

At the dentist's; I've actually never been to this guy before. Heard good things. Accessible. That's a promising start, at least. I have naturally straight teeth and had very few cavities despite a lifetime of poor dental habits. However it's been a naughty 2 or 3 years since I've been.... stupid insurance. Well, I'm headed in. I continue with any juicey updates/rambling musings after.... -- After Party -- Well, that's changed, somewhat. This dentist found 5 cavities, leaving me more than slightly mortified. How scandalous! In my 24 years i've only had 1 other. The shame of it.... As far as my wisdom teeth, only real concern is they haven't fully erupted (which isn't news to me by this point). Gonna see a specialist to see what can be done about that. But he didn't say anything about removing them. I've had mixed opinions on that my whole adult life. Mah wisdoms came quite tolerably straight and there was enough space between my oth