one when my mind aches, one for my heart

geeking out over this WoW fanfiction i'm working on.

i mean i could probably take out the WoW fanfiction part and make it even better. because i'm not relying much on the story or environment. but whatever.


the story will deal with the evolution of my paladin, kotyonok, and what made her the way she is, and what set her up to sort-of fall for my death knight (nehelania) later on. and it introduces my priest a bit (subtle conversations between her and kot), and focuses a lot on gwyn (my rogue), and some rogues based on people i've played with, and two characters i'll probably play around with if i ever write another (more current) story (madeline and roderick--if you get the reference, i love you). and it introduces the circumstances of kotyonok's family, and why it was such an ordeal for her to leave her parents, but not for latis (who was the preferred child anyway). it also introduces the set-up of random people ending up with marj all the damn time, so that its less strange later on.

anyway. should be a pretty solid introduction if i ever write about my others. introduces a handful of characters without being too overwhelming, and the basic setting, and the political/social/cultural climate as interpreted by me.



harry potter midnight release tomorrow! exciting.

"There, on the soft sand, a few feet away from our elders, we would sprawl
all morning, in a petrified paroxysm of desire, and take advantage of every
blessed quirk in space and time to touch each other: her hand, half-hidden
in the sand, would creep toward me, its slender brown fingers sleepwalking
nearer and nearer; then, her opalescent knee would start on a long cautious
journey; sometimes a chance rampart built by younger children granted us
sufficient concealment to graze each other's salty lips.."


i desperately want to reread lolita. i can't believe i gave my copy away.
i don't understand how anyone can criticize nabokov's writing.

dishes from my grandmother. found 'em in the basement after the flood. just now got 'em good and clean.

( the rest: )

all the wrong concepts are clicking together in my mind.
i should've predicted this. or, i should've remembered that i already knew how easy it would be for all of this to get tangled up.
i obviously didn't mention this to tasha, since she'd just say i'm thinking too much. because clearly itd be smarter to let things keep going like this and get to a point where i don't know what to rely on other than the ideas i've built up. i'm still at a point where i know how wrong (and dangerous) they are, no matter what my emotions may be. i don't know how long that'll last, and i don't know how easy it'll be to undo.
i'm turning into such a stereotype.


tasha updated my file today (because her boss reminded her, apparently). which was a joke.
when she asked what my ~goals~ were for the next year in therapy, i really wanted to say "for you to finally try and figure out what the fuck is wrong with me instead of just telling me to stop thinking and giving me pills." but since i don't plan on going back once i get insurance, i just kept my mouth shut. she "updated" my diagnoses. and by that i mean just rewrote the conflicting and inadequate and irrelevant things that have piled up between her and sherri and ladonna.

she commented on my mood. said i seemed emotionally tired, more depressed. (wouldn't take a bachelor's degree to figure that out today.) the only tidbit about my life that she focused on was that i had nightmares last night. seriously, i could've told her exactly why my mood is the way it is, and whats keeping me from fixing it. i can even do a pretty good job of coming up with possible reasons i keep ending up in this kind of loop. but rather than ask me, she just asked about my nightmare, i said it was insignificant and incoherent (it was--just my mind piecing together images and half-stories to fit the mood my mind was stuck in), a symptom not a cause, and she changed the subject.

Violet says:

"Not some guy who just wants to go salmon fishing and stand quietly in the background with his hands folded while she speaks. Geez. The whole picture is just so wrong."

And see, to me, that whole picture is delightful. It was even better because Palin IS a Republican and a Christian! I’m a practical feminist: all my life I’ve been trying to spread the word. I look at the Palin family and I see how much of a huge role model she could be for those girls and women trapped in small town conservatism, who think “feminist” is a dirty word. The fact that she calls herself a feminist and is out and proud about gender equality — that’s fucking HUGE!

For the life of me, I cannot understand why feminists would not want the feminist message to be spread.

And it’s bullshit to say “oh, she’s pro-life, that waters down feminism.” For chrissake, what’s watering down feminism — no, what’s poisoning it — is the behavior of the hateful twits at places like Jezebel.

Sarah Palin’s explicit feminist identity gives young girls and women an option in, a crack in the door, that otherwise would not be available to them.

http://www.reclusiveleftist.com/2009/07/04/feminists-and-the-mystery-of-sarah-palin/


i'm loving the comments on this post. i've barely even made a dent in them.

random boring photo update.



adorable planner and tybee island sticker on my journal.



new ribbon board



scarves.




plans for today are to go through every piece of clothing i own to try and find things i can wear. i've found a few old shirts that fit that i'd forgotten about (somehow i'd completely forgotten about my GSP shirt, which is super comfy), but no luck with pants at all. and the new ones i got in savannah are too big now too. i guess i was bloated as fuck when i went shopping. i mean the scale hasn't budged, they just don't fit the same. yay for being a girl. ugh.
and i need to clean my room. its seriously the worst its been in, i dont know, a year? ugh. and lucy is trashing it more and more every day, and izzy is taking advantage of all the things in the floor to chew on.

tonight, for the first time in my life, i talked about politics with grandad and rich and heard them agree.
rich did double-takes when i agreed with him about obama.
i was impressed that grandad and rich were as understanding as they were about the possible reasons palin resigned (constant media abuse that was beginning to target her children more and more). and i was surprised that neither of them acted like i was being silly and dramatic when i mentioned some "feminist" things. i'm not used to responses like that. it was nice.

i love just listening to them. i don't agree with everything rich says (i've yet to disagree with grandad), but i know he has a lot more life experience, and that even if his values are different, his perspective is something i should listen to and value and consider seriously. and grandad.. the things he can reference from his own life while talking about current politics (he's always followed politics very closely)..

i was surprised by a lot of what grandad said. i've pretty much removed myself completely from mainstream news sources, and mostly just go to blogs that i can trust to NOT piss me off (i don't feel like wasting the energy). so i'm accused often of reading biased anonymous opinions. which is fair i suppose (though mainstream news isn't any better). anyway, my grandad gets news from papers, maybe magazines, and tv. all typical, popular stuff. he follows things very closely. and his opinions and views still line up perfectly with the opinions i read and agree with strongly (i emphasis that rather than my own opinions simply because i don't think i know enough to form complex and complete opinions just yet--i can still make judgments on what other people say, with the arguments they present, but i just don't think i can contribute much on my own at this point in my life). i'm not saying that makes those opinions right. i just think its an interesting observation, i guess. that this isn't just the realm of bitter extremists who spend all their time blogging and reacting to internet culture. that a man of his age from southeastern kentucky, by no means an extremist and definitely not following current trends or technology, comes to the same conclusions, completely on his own.

The Contract

Okay, let's take this a step further. Not only are Skinny Chicks mad or jealous because they wish they could eat what they assume you are eating, but they are mad at you because you are boldly defying The Contract. You know, The Contract that you entered by virtue of being an American female in the twenty-first century? You don't have to sign the contract; you enter into it just by being born.
The Contract silently states that as a woman, you are supposed to make yourself attractive to men. This is born of biological necessity. Female humans need to mate with male humans in order to preserve the future of the race. Ducks quack, peacocks throw open their feathers, and women buy Frizz-Ease and get collagen injections.
When you break The Contract by doing something that is not considered attractive by the opposite sex--say, gaining weight, getting old, or making more money than men do--men become frustrated. They have a mission, and you are preventing them from accomplishing it. Now they'll have to have sex with you even if you have arms that flap in the wind or gray roots or a really intimidating bank account. So they get pissed. Instead of examining the root of this frustration or even fighting it, they grunt along with Craig Kilborn when he makes cracks about Monica Lewinsky. Heaven forbid they are still attracted to you even if you are fat or old or rich--then they'll have a lot of explaining to do to their brethren. But we'll get back to that later.
The other half (and, I would argue, the more potent half) of The Contract is the Silent Agreement Between Women. See, there are a lot of women who work really hard to keep up their end of the Silent Agreement with Men. They spend their free time at the gym, they deny themselves the food they want to eat, they wear shoes that hurt their feet and clothes that restrict their body movement.
Then you come along: jiggle-jiggle-jiggle. Damn you, don't you understand that just by your very fat existence you are breaking all the rules! You are like someone who has cut into the line at the movies. Here's everyone in line behaving themselves, and you just took cuts, and you got in before me! How dare you? I've been waiting for twenty minutes! I might not get a seat! I demand revenge!
The worst part of The Contract is that fat and old and successful women sometimes beat the odds and still get men and friends and careers, and that's sooooo not fair! The Skinny Brain races with antagonism. I'm working so hard, and for what? Why am I busting my ass when she's sitting there eating rice pudding--which has sugar AND fat AND carbs?!
I know that feeling. Every time I see a woman with breast implants, I roll my eyes on the outside by feel a jealous twinge inside. She's taking cuts in line. She got fake boobs. She cheated! Now she's going to get a mate before I do! I know, I'll crack a joke or call her a whore behind her back, and that'll show everyone.
But maybe she's the smart one. After all, I could get implants if I wanted to. Or lipo, for that matter.
I yearn to tell the skinny chicks, "You won!" And get them off my case. After all, Darwinian evolutionary theory would suggest that the fatter we are, the more the Thin have to gain (ha ha). The Thin have a better shot at getting a sex partner than the Fat. The Thin get paid more than the Fat. So to ensure their own chances of evolutionary success, why won't they leave us and our Pepperidge Farm Mint Milanos well enough alone?


-Wendy Shanker

c: I assume it crossed your mind before I brought it up. Or am I that good an influence on you? :-P
me: it definitely crossed my mind before you brought it up.
me: thats why i got on my phone to talk in the first place.
c: So I could reinforce your ideas?
me: mhm.
me: so i could talk about it and look like i was just reacting to things you said when i grinned and my face turned red.
c: LOL
c: Gosh, you are so... devious in your embarrassment.

indeed.

29 days til i'm out of this.
i don't expect things to be magically better anywhere else, don't get me wrong. but at least i'll be able to blend in. here, when you go out, odds are you'll see someone you know, if not tons of people you know. everyone knows everyone--you never just blend into the background. you're always around someone who knows someone who has an opinion of you. i miss getting lost in crowds of people that are too indifferent about my existence to think twice about me. i wish i could surround myself with people who care too much about major social issues to waste time gossiping over completely insignificant personal drama.

also, i kind-of idolize brenda brathwaite by this point. so i'm super excited about getting the chance to meet her.




have i mentioned lately how much i HATE MYSELF for scheduling orientation for august 6-7? theres no way i can go to the louisville decemberists concert. and every time i see the videos of shara worden singing "crazy on you," i absolutely die. god.

nothing makes sense.

the things said and done, and my response to them, aren't even close to matching up.
the things i'm afraid of and the things i've experienced don't match up.
the things i say i don't have trouble with and the things i obsess over when i break down don't match up.

i don't know what i'm missing. i'm tired of freaking out for no reason. i'm tired of seeming dramatic and unstable and weak. i'm tired of making the people i care about fight against irrational fears i have that don't even have a source as far as i can tell. and i'm tired of forgetting any of this happens within a day. i hate that in 3 days i'll think i'm completely normal and nothing is strange or off, and everything is perfect with everyone i know. or that, if i can't manage that, knowing that i'll rationalize all of it. i'll explain it all. i'll think about it until i can't argue that i was being anything but completely fair and logical. and its all going to happen again. it always does.

oh, and at some point (dad says january at the latest), i'll be covered by dad's insurance again.

this is seriously the best news i could possibly hear.

hard reset.
i think i've got everything back the way i wanted.
google maps, palringo, pandora, skyfire, smsbubbles. my ringtones and contacts and calendar stuff.

just need to break down and work on changing the cv and medianet buttons to useful things. and i need to delete the useless trial programs that came on here.

alright, heres the thing.

i need new mascara.

i mean i love my diorshow, but it is NOT waterproof enough for the humidity in savannah. oddly enough i have way more trouble with my mascara smudging just below my eyebrows than below my eyes. if anyone knows of an awesome way to prevent this aside from buying new mascara, please let me know.


now.
i'm currently using diorshow waterproof. i love it. i want something volumizing for a reasonably dramatic effect. i don't really need anything that adds length, just volume and a nice rich black.
if drugstore brands can really pull this off, let me know.
so far i've been sorting through reviews on makeup alley for shu uemura, dior, shiseido, tarte, laura mercier, sephora, smashbox, make up for ever, .. i can't even rememebr what else. EVERYTHING. and it either flakes, clumps, or smudges. or doesn't do anything. the only mascaras that didn't do this were the "tube" ones, like the imju fiberwig. but a bunch of people said that stuff does come off relatively easily (despite not actually smudging) and that it looks really creepy and bizarre when it does.


seriously. anybody. suggestions.

Hubbell: You never give up, do you?
Katie: Only when I'm absolutely forced to. But I'm a very good loser.
Hubbell: Better than I am.
Katie: Well, I've had... more practice.

i need rain boots.

I think the new thing now is, “When Bush spied on me, I felt bad, but when Obama does it, it feels like unicorn kisses!” Or maybe, “Real liberals have enough money not to care about universal healthcare!” ?
http://www.reclusiveleftist.com/2009/06/15/here-we-go-again-with-the-classism/

if you don't read reclusiveleftist, fix it. now. just read everything there. not all of it is perfect (the distraction with abortion arguments in a discussion of what would constitute fourth-wave feminism made me a bit sad but still proved a point), but its the closest to honest, sane discussion i've seen in a very, very long time. by far my favorite blog at the moment.

mom guessed the ceilings in the downstairs part of the apartment to be about 12 ft.
( picture spam. click this. seriously. you have to see it. )

absolutely perfect. theres one sorta normal sized closet with shelves in the downstairs room (behind the door with the mirror--the other door goes to another part of the house so its locked). theres a pretty big closet in the hallway (not behind the curtain, thats covering a door going to another part of the house, also blocked off). then upstairs is a HUGE walk-in closet.

i'm pretty happy with it.

is twitter worth using?

i haven't slept in forever. i really, really need to fix that. also, i've been unusually unstable the past few days. even before my sleep schedule .. stopped. haha. so that fucking sucks. just need to sort through some stuff hopefully. i dunno.

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