Dusty Newspaper Clippings and other mental disorder: April 2005

Saturday, April 30, 2005

Sometimes I can't believe I passed up the opportunity to have sex with Mike, who has the face and body of a god. Fact of the matter is, though, that there is absolutely no way in hell I could admit someone into my apartment in its state; it's just that simple. Probably why I was so quick to say no to him, more so than for any other reason.

Just feeling lonely, I guess. I'll get over it.

Went to the movies last night (would have gone with Mike if I hadn't broken the date). Saw Beauty Shop which was kinda dumb but still sweet. I think because I get a student discount on my admission fee, I'm not quite as critical as I might ordinarily be. :-) Keisha Knight Pullum was funny and still has that precious face. I also liked the young actress who played Queen Latifa's daughter.

You know, I have every right and need to be picky. Face it, my youth was used up on someone unworthy, and I have to make sure that the good years I have left are spent judiciously and not wasted on something unrealistic and likely to end badly. I mean, I just had a flash: Mike and I move in together, we each finish our respective educations (mine obtaining a master's in German and his attending law school), and we graduate. He gets a job at a law firm where he's surrounded by pretty young lawyers and paralegals and he embarks upon his next adventure. Me, I'll be nearing 50 by then and right back where I started, alone. Fergit it.

I got an older Tyler doll second-hand from someone on the list and I wonder if they're more fragile, because I somehow blew her knee out yesterday. A big chunk of plastic broke off. Right now it's held in place by her orthopedic hose until I can make it to the store and get some Superglue or something.

Friday, April 29, 2005

This is what I would look like as a South Park character (thank you, Lois):

Yes! You, too, can be a South Park character.

Yeah, I don't want to have to look back and say (once again), "The signs were there in the beginning--I should have seen it coming!" I'm getting tired of that.

12:26 PM

Just came back from a jog, my first in a very long time. It's warm out and I'm sweating like a mofo, which is good. I like when swear pours off me when I exercise--just not in a public place like the gym, where it's embarrassing. My run went well considering that I'm so out of shape. I need to get back into fitness; it makes me feel so much stronger and able to maintain. Plus I need a diversion from my libito.

Thursday, April 28, 2005

Just got off the phone with Mike. He has a nice, deep voice, almost melodic. Anyway, I broke the date and told him I just wasn't in a place to hang out with any romantic aspirations. I told him that I think he's attractive, but that I'm not up to the responsibility and work that comes with a relationship. He asked if he and I could get together for just one night. Are you kidding? Fuck yeah! But I told him no. He said he didn't want to hang together on a platonic basis because that's not honest, that underneath he'd still be wanting to take it further.

That gives me something to think about. He referenced that scene in When Harry Met Sally, where Billy Crystal is talking about how men are not capable of being "mere" friends with women. Even though I don't want to believe that, experience and observation tells me this is true. I just want a friend. Why is that so hard?

So we thanked each other for our honesty and said we'd likely run into each other at the VA office, while I secretly resolved to stop going there, and we hung up.

2:42 PM

Took a nap, which seems to clear my head. No point having regret or second-guessing myself, because that's what I did with Eduard when we got back together, and that was a definite mistake.

Two missed calls in the last two days from local numbers with no message left.

At least I know that Mike is level-headed enough not to do the whole prank-call thing with me. It's just not in his nature, he's way too solid.

Regarding the whole friends thing, say for example that the tall lanky artist dude wanted me to hang out with him platonically. I would do it, because I liked him as a person and I would have enjoyed getting to know him better, sharing his company and talking about art and stuff. I dunno. To me, sex isn't everything. I mean, before Eduard, I went five years without it. Sometimes I think I'll never figure things out.

7:05 PM

I can't believe the day is gone already. The cats have been comatose all day because they got some Flint River Ranch cat food for the first time and totally went to town on it. Normally I'm not a "pet food" kind of person, preferring the raw diet for both dogs and cats, but sometimes the raw diet is too expensive and time-consuming for me.

I'm feeling kinda shitty, a combo of Aunt Flo's visit, depression and loneliness. I think I might take to my bed.

I was raised to dread and detest my period. My mother called it the "creeping crud" and it just added to my self-loathing and sense of cruel, twisted fate that I was born female. When I was grown up and away from my parents' influence, though, I began to feel that the period is a time of cleansing, and now I welcome it, even though it's inconvenient sometimes.

There's another veteran, a really nice guy named Dan, who's closer to my own age. He's not, like, totally gorgeous like Mike but I can tell he digs me, and he's more easy-going. He offered to tutor me in my math classes this summer, but I'm not attracted to him so I think, in light of the above discussion, I won't string him along.

I bought a Haute Doll exclusive, Checkmate Kit. While her outfit and accessories are wonderfully detailed, especially considering the pricepoint, Kit herself has an enormous gourd. I mean, damn! She's the first Kit I ever held in my hands and her grape is totally out of proportion with the others, even RTW Angelina, the previous wearer of the XL tiara. I don't know what I'm going to do with Kit, get used to her coconut, sell her, pack her away, or what.

Wednesday, April 27, 2005

Still a little depressed but better. A bit of retail therapy: I bought the American Idiot Green Day CD and also Alice in Chains' Greatest Hits compilation.

Spent the afternoon at the zoo like I said. Had to pay admission, which sucks, but I got fifty-odd pictures, some of them o.k. I'll post some after they're downloaded. Ran into a couple of classmates there but just said hey. You'll never guess who I saw there. In all places, of all days, my stupid neighbors from across the way. Brudduh.

Thanks, everyone, for your feedback lately! :-)

Well I'm somewhat pissed off because I wrote an entry and there's something wrong with the network and it was lost. That's one of my pet peeves.

Anyway, I'll write it again. I'm feeling sorry for myself and depressed, partly, I think, due to my period. I wonder if I need to go on stronger meds during that time.

Just got out of the final German class of the semester. The teacher gave a farewell speech of sorts and explained that she wasn't suited for teaching that course and that she wouldn't be teaching it again. Made me feel like a right heel. And then, delving into my emotions, the truth is that I blew up at her last week because I was upset that my own presentation didn't go well (nothing like public humiliation). I'm such a schmo. So she dismissed the class and left and the students lingered, chatting and whatnot. They're cool people and I wouldn't mind hanging with them, but nobody likes old cranks--chya. So I kinda left quickly without making any eye contact, feeling like crying.

Yeah, it's the ol' period alright.

Oh well, this afternoon I'm going to the zoo to take piccies of the animals, so that should be a nice way to spend the day.

Tuesday, April 26, 2005

Well this is kinda embarrassing but I'm gonna tell it anyhow. I was up until midnight or so last night, painting, and when I turned in I thought I might have a little wank to help me go to sleep. So I did, and I had a very intense and long orgasm because I very seldom wank. So I was just laying there thinking about nothing in particular when all of a sudden I became aware of a tingling/tickling sensation in my chest/back of my throat and then I just burst into tears. These really deep, harsh, grating sobs. I don't know why and I could barely stop. I guess it's safe to assume that my orgasm touched some deep emotional place in me. This morning I feel spent, puffy-eyed, and a little depressed.

That's not the first time it happened. While I was still married, actually not long before the end, on a weekend morning I was lying in bed and the ex had already gotten up. So I had me a little twiddle and afterward I felt this tiny, tickling/tingling sensation. I wondered what it was, and I watched as it kept growing and growing until finally it burst. To my surprise, it was tears. At that moment I had a flash of truth: "I'm not attracted to my husband, what am I going to do?" As it turned out, I didn't need to do much because my ex already had the situation well in hand.

Ugh, I'd better quit because I don't want to start crying again. I'm gonna play dollies.

--Crap, can't play dollies right now, I've got homework that I can't blow off.

I plan to call Mike today and just tell him that I'm not up for anything beyond friendship. I mean, he's handsome and studly and would be a welcome guest in my pants if only he'd gone about it with more finesse. {I wonder if he's got a big schlong? --Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up.}

Oh, okay, I brought it up. Penis size: does it matter? My guess is that it would be a different answer from every woman. For me, I tend to like 'em big, but it's more important who it's attached to and if they know how to use it. Physiologically, as I was informed by a doc long ago, I have a very deep vagina. Yay me. Actually, that's good for the guy but not for me, because the average dude can't go in deep enough to reach that spot. So here's my requirements for a mate: intelligent, down-to-earth, educated, funny, kind, honest, respectful and a big schlong. Yeah, I know, it's too much to ask. :-) Again, a big one is nice but there are more important things. I had a friend who told me that her vagina was built somewhat shallow. So see, there's someone for everyone.

Later

Aiight, check this out. Looking up some terms for sociology: "Manifest function: The obvious and intended functions of some social phenomenon." What the hell is that? That says absolutely nothing at all!

Monday, April 25, 2005

Took a nap, cleared my head. Maybe what I should do is, instead of giving him platitudes like, "we're just not compatible," or some shit like that, I should say, "Oh yeah, like, I was sexually abused and now I'm pretty messed up and your behavior sets off my triggers. I'm on thirty percent disability for depression from the VA and if it weren't for my antidepressant meds I'd probably have off'd myself already." That way, he'd go, "Oh holy shit, that was a narrow escape!" and there would surely be no argument.

Sorry, depressive humor.

In the category of young whippersnappers, there's a hot guy in my German class. He's the one I mentioned before who speaks German very well, but that's incidental. Now why can't *he* ask me out? He could probably teach me a few things. *cough, choke, splutter*

While I dislike the whole "Rules" thing, bottom line is this: every time I've tried to initiate something with a guy, it didn't work out. That's unanimous --*every* time. So I'm not asking any guy out again. But how come the only guys who ask me out are alcoholics or control freaks or something? How do I let an attractive guy know I'm interested? Face it, I'm socially undeveloped.

I guess -- and I'm getting kinda sick of saying this but it's true -- the age difference is a real factor. Maybe one day when I'm done with college … oh, who gives a shit? Why am I even thinking about this? I've got so many more things to worry about.

Buh-bye now.

I'm almost certain I'm going to break the date with Mike. I just don't feel any sort of compatibility with him at all, and I get the feeling that he has a controlling nature too. Plus there's that intensity I mentioned. I just wanna chill, yo. Also, the way he kept putting his hands on me smacked of possession, and it's false, not spontaneous at all. Try-hard. Then there's the factor that I still feel guilty when a guy pays for my dinner, movie or whatever, that I "owe" him something. I just don't want to go there.

I have to admit, it was easy hanging with Eduard. I just don't feel ready to embark upon anything relationship-wise right now. Friends, sure, but that's never what guys want to hear. I hardly have any friends; hell, I'd be grateful for a friend. Shee-it.

You know, to be completely honest with myself, and I'm not saying that I yam, I never did want to go out with Mike. I was just caught askew when he asked me and then out emerged my recurring problem with the word "no." At least I didn't let him kiss me today when he tried. Kinda gave me the creeps.

I fucking hate, hate, hate this current administration. I hate what we're doing to our planet. Who cares about a bunch of little birds and shit? Fuck them! There's money to be made!

http://www.fresnobee.com/local/story/10356698p-11160879c.html

Oh, does anyone want me to ask you five questions? If so, leave me a comment. :-)

Saw Mike this morning. He seemed hesitant to tell me his last name, which is Hispanic. I wonder why, it doesn't make a difference to me. Anyway, I'm not entirely comfortable around him. We went walking around the campus and he seemed a little ... pushy. He wants to put his hands on me and hold hands and stuff, and I'm just too reserved for that. He tried to kiss me too, and surely he wasn't pleased when I ducked out. I explained that I have wider boundaries than some people. But really, I don't feel comfortable making out until I know someone better. I dunno, he seems kinda intense. I mean, am I supposed to be stars-in-my-eyes swept away? Dude, I'm too old for that shit.

4. If you could go to any country for a month, which would it be and why?

Germany. Not an original answer, given that I've been there before and I'm half German. But I'd like to go to suss it out as an adult and investigate possible future residence there. I'm considering a career in translation/interpretation.

5. What do you want people to know about you?

That my shit stinks, but I'm a good person regardless. Or is it, that I'm a good person because of it?

Sunday, April 24, 2005

Hey, this is neat:

Your Linguistic Profile:

60% General American English

20% Dixie

15% Upper Midwestern

5% Yankee

0% Midwestern

What Kind of American English Do You Speak?

3. What would you trade your cat for?

That's really hard in a way and then in a way not. I've always harbored doubts about whether or not I should keep my kitties because they trigger my asthma and I "technically" have dogs. Am I shirking my responsibility to my dogs by simply dumping them on my parents? They actually offered to care for my dogs for the duration of my schooling, but don't you think that after all that time, the dogs will "belong" to my parents? I've got a couple of years at least on my bachelor's and I hope to get a master's too.

I never intended to keep them at all, I just didn't want them taken away by animal control. But hell, you know how kitties grow on ya. :-) This morning I picked up Peep and I was like, what's that wet stuff on your tail? Poop, that's what it was. Bathtime for Peep. As much as she hates baths, she didn't try to scratch me. After a little time to herself, she came up to me nicely enough and sat on my lap while I brushed her dry. Now she's so shiny, she gleams.

Back to the question, I would trade my cats for this:

Secure knowledge that the recipient(s) would love and cherish the cats like their own children, would take the utmost care of them and feed them the best quality food available, preferably the raw diet. It's mandatory that they never have the cats declawed, and it would be really nice if all three could go to the same home.

Damn, damn, double-damn. I just sniped an auction and then got outsniped myself. Poop.

I wanted to make an addition to the "things I have learned list":

If you find yourself feeling disproportionately or inappropriately angry, again, stop and explore why. Sometimes an incident may have tapped into a past experience that you're still carrying around inside, you know?

Mike called. I was unwilling to tell him that I'd just crawled out of bed. He wants to meet up tomorrow on campus and pushed the movie back to Friday, which is fine with me. It just came out last time we spoke that I'd been married before. He probably wants to know more about that, but I'll let him bring it up.

From what I can gather, he seems to have a good relationship with his parents, both of whom are successful in their respective industries. I'll bet they're not much older than I am. He's sure of himself, focused and organized (more things we don't have in common -- snerk).

My skin was fairly clear for weeks and now that someone's interested in me, I've broken out like a mutha. :-( I read somewhere that women like me who suffer from adult acne can expect relief at the onset of menopause. Well thank gawd for that! The end is in sight.

Finally got some stuff mailed off that I'd sold on eBay. It's true, I'm terrible about shipping. It's such a monkey on my back. The whole eBay thing is a blast except for the damn shipping. Finding boxes and packing materials, tracking down scissors and tape in my chaos, then putting the correct addresses on the boxes and schlepping them down to the post office. Even if I print off pre-paid labels, I still have to stand in line to drop off the boxes. Face it, I'm lazy.

I've really been missing my dogs lately. But they're so much better off with my parents. All their needs are being met: a varied, nutritious diet, plenty of company and love, and lots of exercise. It benefits my parents too; they need something to fuss over and dote on. Phoebe and my dad have really taken to each other, and my mom and Andy have bonded too. It kind of gives my parents a second chance at parenting, seriously, and they're excelling at it.

Saturday, April 23, 2005

2. What do you know now that you wish you would have known 10 years ago?

Where do I start?!

That guys with accents, while appearing to be suave and debonair, are not necessary better quality people. In other words, don't be carried away by the superficial.

Listen to your gut instincts. If you're not attracted to someone, don't assume it will come about later.

No singular person or situation is the be-all, end-all. If something doesn't work out the way you wanted, celebrate. The Universe is doing you a favor, even if you can't see it right away.

After all, do you *really* know what you want? You know that saying, "be careful what you wish for, you might get it."

Don't take anything personally. Example: if someone is a shit to you, it reflects upon them and not you.

Choose your battles. Very little is really worth getting upset over.

If you find yourself getting upset and worked up, stop and think. Why are you aggravated? Have you gotten enough food? Enough sleep? Did you forget your meds? Sometimes emotions are a result of factors other than the situation at hand.

Says I, Newpeep, the wise old sage.

Later.

Friday, April 22, 2005

Mission almost accomplished. My window to change my schedule isn't until tomorrow, but I think I'll take Human Genetics and Society instead of the anatomy class. It doesn't appear to require a lab, and there are plenty of seats. *Whew!* That was close.

(Best whiney voice) Sandeeeeee, these are harrrrrrrd! Seriously, thank you for sending these questions.

I might not answer them all at once or in order.

1. What's the worst date you've ever been on?

Honestly, I haven't dated very much in my life, and nothing really comes to mind. The only thing I can think of offhand is when I was in the marines, I went out with a guy marine to Pizza Slut off base. This was not long after we'd each gotten out of boot camp. Don't know if you know this, but boot camp teaches one to inhale as much food in as little time as possible. So, uh, he picks up this big slice of pizza and crams the entire thing in his mouth at once, as the people at the next table looked on in horror. Gawd that was a long time ago, in '86. If I think of another example, I'll post it.

Oh, wait. I don't know if this qualifies as a "date," but in the last year we were married, I went to my ex's office Christmas party. There, he abandoned me in a stranger's house, surrounded by --guess what?-- strangers. He proceeded to get hammered with his new bestest friends in the whole wide world, while I hung around feeling very much like the fifth wheel. The only reason he had me there at all was to be the designated driver. I found out later that he played tonsil-hockey with one of his co-workers in another room.

In other news, learned today that in the class "human physiology and anatomy," I'll be required to dissect a cat. Fuck that shit. I have to investigate alternatives.

Saw The Upside of Anger earlier this evening, which I enjoyed. I related to it a bit, where Joan Allen was saying that her heart's been broken, one of those hurts that doesn't ever heal, and Kevin Costner replied that yeah it heals, but it just heals funny and you walk with a limp. I also related when Joan was prowling the internet for information on Sweden, where her husband went with his Swedish secretary. A husband dumping you does make you a head case, I know, and it made me feel better to see that obviously I'm not the only one, or else they wouldn't have put it in the movie.

Joan Allen looks great.

To tell you the truth, I'm not really interested in Mike. Shit, should I cancel the plans to see a movie on Wednesday? I mean, not being malicious here, but I'll bet he voted Republican; that's how far apart in values I feel we are. Couldn't help but notice he has a fine body though. One thing about civilian men, they're squidgy. My ex was in physically good shape; he had a nice booty and silky chest hair, but I didn't click with him chemically. Maybe it was more than just chemicals, though. I mean, there was no tenderness, no patience, no empathy -- and by that I mean, no foreplay. He wasn't circumcised, being a Brit. I've heard that uncircumcised men have more sensitive penises (penii?), but if that makes a man unable/unwilling to control himself, then I don't see the merit. And gawd, what a lack of and unwillingness to control. I suggested that we try tantric sex, like Sting, because even then I intuited that I needed more time to get off, but he wouldn't *hear* of it.

Just had the little get-together with Mike. We had intended to grab a bite to eat but we wound up talking instead. It's awkward talking with someone in that situation. Honestly, I don't feel we have much in common, but he's a nice guy. He wants to go see The Interpreter, which doesn't interest me, but I didn't tell him that. He's a bit touchy-feely. I've observed that younger people hug more, but I still thought it was a bit weird. I'm not touchy-feely myself, in case you haven't noticed.

I'd learned recently about the "mineral" makeup, Bare Escentuals, that supposedly it masks flaws in the skin like old acne scars, which I have. So, I found a store that carries it and went yesterday afternoon. What is it about hair care and beauty supply places, that their staff is so hoity-toity? One heavily made up lady asked me if I needed any help, but then she tried to steer me to another product for which she obviously got commissions. No, I specifically sought that one product and nothing else. When I mentioned needing oil control, she said, "Oh we have just the thing," and she dragged me back to the isle where "her" products were sold. She slathered some shit on the back of my hand while she and another salesgirl explained how this product penetrates four layers into the skin and after two weeks of use, will slow down oil production. First of all, that sounds sinister to me. Secondly, that's not what I was there for. They'd even thrust a bottle of the product into my hands. I handed the bottle back, informed them that I was happy with my skin care products, thanked them, and sauntered off with a clean conscience, while they looked at each other in disbelief. Guess they thought I was an easy kill, and in the past I would have been.

Anywho, I went home and tried the makeup. It's a powder foundation, which is odd to me. It didn't really obscure my facial scarring; in fact, I feel that my skin looks better without foundation. So ... I'm a bit poorer now.

Thursday, April 21, 2005

A brief, self-indulgent [aren't they all?] post before they kick me out of the lab.

Talked about education in sociology today, about labeling children according to their perceived ability. How the labels become self-fulfilling prophesies.

In fourth or fifth grade, not long after we'd moved to BFE in the Bible Belt, I got "demoted" to a lower math class because, well, I wasn't good at math. The way that system was set up, I had to also be demoted in English because there were only two teachers and they alternated, teaching at the same time, see what I mean? So when I brought that news home to my mom, I was, like, in total disgrace. An academic failure. Prior to moving to BFE, I was a bright child, eager to learn. Afterward, I developed behavioral and disciplinary "issues." I'd given up on myself and on everyone around me. Certainly, I was a schmuck because everyone told me so. Thus, there was no reason to disprove them; rather, it was my job to prove them right.

Just trying to explain why, at 38, I'm two years into my undergrad degree. Weird how life works out, how things affect us.

Got some heartburn after an earlier Indian dinner. It was worth it. My favorite fucking food in the whole world.

Sigh, yawn. Just about every day this week I've gotten up "early." Tuesday was an appointment at the VA hospital, where I have to leave substantially ahead of the appointment time in order to find a parking space. Wednesday I had to go to school early. Today, I have a morning shrink appointment, and tomorrow Mike wants to meet at the obscene hour of ten a.m.

I'm so bad with numbers. In Haute Magazine there's a pattern for a sheath dress for 16" dolls that I'd like to sew. I'm no seamstress, but I figured the dress would be relatively simple, and I like sheath dresses. Well, the pattern has to be photocopied at 133%. Simple, right? I tried to use the copier in the VA office, but it used the decimal system for enlargements, not percent, and I couldn't figure out what to use. After wasting paper I finally gave up. Maybe I can use the copier at the rental office instead, which is a little older.

Did I mention that I like dresses on *other* people? I do not wear dresses. I'll explain why some other time.

Going back to numbers and memory, I'm very upset that I've suddenly forgotten my PIN number to my debit card, after having used it for a couple of years. It was an easy number, too. Just like that, one day I choked and I haven't remembered it since. I've just been using it like a credit card, but it means I don't have easy access to cash. Weird.

The cats were banished again last night, and now Newman isn't speaking to me.

Wednesday, April 20, 2005

Well, Mike called this evening. We were on the phone for about twenty minutes or so. Huh. One of the first guys who said he'd call and actually did. Gawd I have an unfortunate tendency to babble. Right, John? I had to stop myself and ask, "How about you?" a few times. Put my foot in it; you're not supposed to talk about "heavy" subjects right off the bat, like politics or religion, but I brought up my recent visit to the Temple and the fact that I've got a jaundiced view of religion and then he said that he's a practicing Christian. Ooops. Oh well. He wants to meet on campus this Friday for a quick bite to eat, at ten. I was like, "in the *morning*?" Another faux pas. Damn I'm smooth.

He told me he thinks I'm attractive. Must be the "Dude, WTF?" t-shirt.

So we have to talk for five minutes in German class this Monday. I don't have a watch with a second-hand; maybe I'll take an egg timer (BRRRRRINNNGGGGGGG!!!). I think I'll just talk about the cats.

Missy has a bit of a Slavic look about her, with high cheekbones and tilted eyes. Newman's head and face are rounder and his eyes are further apart, bigger and rounder than Missy's, as well as being a more subdued blue. Peep's eyes are bigger like Newman's, but her face is somewhat longer and more Egyptian-looking.

Awright, gotta go to bed.

Holy crap, what a day so far.

I totally let that German teacher have it. This class is worth one credit, right? *One* credit. And now, as the semester draws to a close and everyone is inundated with final projects and exams, she assigns all these fucking "presentations," to which she holds her stopwatch. After ours today, she started giving us critiques, saying, "When I say the presentation is 15 minutes, that's 15 minutes, not 14, not 13 [blah blah blah bullshit deleted]. It's your responsibility to makes sure that [blah blah blah]." When she was assigning more "presentations" for next week, I raised my hand. In English, I said, "I thought this was a German conversation class, not a speech class. Now we're getting all this homework and outside preparation when everyone is having their finals. I find it to be unbalanced." "Unbalanced." I was trying to keep it clean. She got very defensive and blustery and embarked upon some tirade, at the end of which she addressed to me, "I don't see what your problem with this is." I replied, "It just seems like a lot of work for one credit. One credit." [A three-hour tour. A three-hour tour.] She goes, "Well just don't do it if you don't want to." I'm so sure, and let her give me some shitty grade, let this stupid class bring down my GPA (not that I'm overly concerned about my GPA, but you know what I mean). Everyone else in the class was totally uncomfortable and squirming in their seats. I don't know how they feel about my outburst, with the exception of one other girl, who came up to me after class and said she agrees.

Maybe the conversation class depends upon the teacher's personality to make it a comfortable environment, whereas she has the personality of a constipated yak wearing a brown shirt. A brown hair shirt. The other girl and I are going to complain to the head of the department; I mean, that teacher's going to slam me.

In other news ... holy shit, I got asked out! Oh, uhhhhh ....... I'd better not think about it much. A guy named Mike was sitting at the computer next to me in the VA student office. He's young, in his early twenties, but he looks much younger than that. Got out of the army about a year ago. Holy mackerel. He said he didn't mind the age difference. I'm not going to read too much into it or fret. I am freaked out, though--I never get asked out.

Made it to Tarjez where I found Fresh Step litter on sale, $7.35 for 25 lbs. I was checking out the Tidy Cat litter, which was also on sale, but I've never tried that and I don't want to be stuck with crappy litter like that one time I bought some from a discount warehouse. Peep wasted no time in using it and she seemed well pleased.

On the way to school I stopped by McD's and had a breakfast biscuit sandwich. Should sit in my belly like a rock for hours. Their coffee's not bad.

Those buggers I'm giving the prez with haven't emailed me back. I don't know where one starts and the other begins. This sucks. I shouldn't sweat it. Fuckit anyway.

Will you check out that time? I'm conscious before daylight? WTF? Well, my mind is too active and I've got a lot to do. I didn't really prepare for today's bloody presentation so I have to do it before class. Honestly I don't have any high expectations, but at the same time I don't give a shit. Also, I'm in dire need for some kitty litter, or rather, the cats are, so I have to buy some before I leave. The nearest store is Tarjez and I can't remember when they open, I think eight. Why the fuck can't they be 24 hours? So anyway.

After this semester is over I need to get back in shape. One thing about working out at the university rec center is that I feel self-conscious when I'm squidgy. Maybe the new community college I'm attending this summer has a rec center--they have a nice campus. Hope so. Between math classes and math lab, I'm gonna be spending a lot of time on campus.

Heheheheheheheheh, snerk snerk snerk. I'm gonna wear my "Dude, WTF?" t-shirt to class today.

Tuesday, April 19, 2005

Left a more detailed description of the presentation on my computer at home. No biggie, it was mostly carping.

Can't write long, have homework to complete. But I found an awesome site, Judiaism 101! Descriptions of Judaism in layman's terms. Fascinating. I plan to pour over that in depth later.

Monday, April 18, 2005

About that presentation. It wasn't much, as I said, we were only supposed to speak for about ten minutes, although I think mine wound up to be less than that. That teacher's such a fuckin' idgit, I swear. She kept asking me questions that I'd already answered earlier if she'd been fucking listening. Gawd I hope I never get her again. Her English sucks and so does her German.

To make the presentation relate to German somehow, I thought I'd show pictures of the work of an artist named Petra, who lives in Nürnberg. But, I forgot to bring that stuff. :-( Oh well. I think the classmates were well bored, and possibly thought that I'm a loser for playing with dolls, but they were polite. And now we have to do a joint presentation this Wednesday, and the dumb bitch teacher dropped upon us that next week, the last week of the semester, we have to do more presentations. Can't stand her, can't stand her, can't stand her. I think she believes that the American standards of education are too low and she's taken it upon herself to revolutionize things. She's probably gonna give people shitty grades, with the exception of one guy who speak good German (his German's awesome). Anyway. She's small beans. Little pissant.

You know what's comically tragic? That the three worst German-speakers, myself and two others, were grouped together for this Wednesday's speech. Should make for some fine entertainment--not.

Well, I take that back, my German's not too bad, it just goes in fits and starts.

Eh, the presentation went alright. I don't feel like talking, I'm depressed. The end of the semester is, like, next week and I'm so screwed.

Up before noon, how about that. Actually had some restful sleep; the kitties were quiet all night and didn't need to be exiled. Funny critters.

Had a dream about my best-friend-in-high-school-who-dumped-me. Again. GAWD! That was kid stuff! Twenty-fucking-years ago. When the hell is my subconscious going to get over it? I'm definitely going to the class reunion (if I'm invited--hah), if only to face these stupid demons for once and for all. At least in this dream, she and I were hanging around, as opposed to the usual dream where she treats me like crap. I suppose that's progress.

I do this to myself every stinkin's semester: I'm behind. Behind on two watercolors (ack!), one of them a highly-detailed interior. I just never developed a sense of urgency for deadlines.

I abruptly stopped going to the gym, after going religiously for so long and actually starting to get a hardbody, and now I'm getting squidgy again. Haven't gotten larger, just squidgier. I was all worred about my butt hanging out of the back of my bathting suit, well shit, now there's nothing to worry about -- it does. And my pot-belly is back, the one I sport despite never having had children.

I have to give that presentation today and wouldn't you know it, I have a big zit. So right now I've slathered on some clay mask, which is usually fairly soothing. I'll let you know how the presentation goes; I know you're waiting with baited breath.

Sunday, April 17, 2005

Last night the cats were exiled. I mean, ever since they hit adolescence, I haven't slept through the night. And last night they were at it again, tear-assing around the place and using my head as a springboard. Peep was being sweet, curled up on a chair, but Newman and Missy were little hellions. My bedroom door is usually propped open with some dumbbells, because since I live by myself there's no use for a door. But now there is. Got some good rest for a change. I'm sorry about that and I like it when they sleep with me, but usually they don't anyway.

I would have never guessed for Peep to turn out to be the sweet one, because of them all, she's still the most "wild." She's wary, skittish and jumps at loud noises, but lately she's been very responsive and affectionate. Missy and Newman were the most "personable" when they were younger, but now they only seem to associate with me if (a) they're hungry, or (b) I'm petting on someone else.

Anyway, I'd better go get their food before they kill me and pick my bones clean.

10:55 PM

Sometimes this dolly painting thing is discouraging. I worked all day on this one and she's looking pretty rough. My back's killing me.

Saturday, April 16, 2005

Someone thumped merrily on the door earlier. I don't know anybody and delivery people don't knock that way (plus I'm not expecting anything), so surely it was a solicitor. I didn't bother to check.

Gonna work on another dolly today.

On thing I read in the prayer book last night that I really liked was something about having the right to follow your dreams and become what you were meant to be. I certainly didn't get that attitude while I was growing up; my parents basically wrote me off and figured I'd be a low-income ne'er-do-well. As it turned out, I became a secretary, an unrewarding profession, monetarily and intellectually.

I was making barely-passing grades in high school because I was disheartened, depressed and just treading water to graduate and get the fuck away from there. My dad sat me down one evening and told me that I should just go ahead and drop out of school, that he would get me a job [as what? custodian?]. I smiled at him, a mean smile, where the stretching of my flesh over my teeth felt like that of a death's head, and I told him, "I'm not dropping out." Just goes to show how much of a waste they took me for. When your parents, of all people, think you're worthless, how could you help but believe them? And that goes so deep as to become enmeshed in the fiber of your being.

If I'd given it any thought, though, and this option didn't occur to me back then, I could have dropped out of high school, avoiding all that unnnecessary and damaging social and emotional bullshit, and gotten my G.E.D. Maybe even gotten out of town early. But, I didn't think of that. I believe that's what Pink said she did. Smart.

Okay, I'm turning that thing off. When I did a spelling/grammar check and got the "readability statistics" afterward, my Flesch-Kincaid grade level was 6.8. Know what I say to that? Pfffththhhh!

I've recently noticed that Peep's hind legs are pigeon-toed. I wonder if that's gonna be a problem. She sure gets around with no trouble; she's the most intrepid of the bunch.

I should write K. and see how Cricket and Tiger are doing. Last time we communicated, though, she expressed frustration over their clawing and said she was going to get them declawed. That bothered me so much, but there's nothing I can do about it. I sent her links about how to modify scratching behavior, but she only replied snippily, "thanks, I'll check them out." Getting the cats declawed at this late stage is just awful, especially awful. So, I kinda don't want to get in touch with K. because I don't want to know if they've undergone that surgery. Poor Tiger and Cricket, their little spirits.

See, that's why I'm hesitant to let the cats go up for adoption through the placement agency. I'd rather be able to choose the new parents myself, people who are savvy, would feed them good food and would never consider getting them declawed.

Friday, April 15, 2005

Went to Temple tonight and I liked it very much. Lots of standing and sitting, similar to Catholic services in that regard. But where Catholics spout Latin, the Jewish people speak Hebrew. Sounded nice anyway, and I liked the songs too. I was somewhat overdressed, wearing wool gabardine slacks and a silk blouse (both too large) and my hair securely french-braided, but it wouldn't have been appropriate for me to show up in jeans. I'd read about women sitting separately from the men, not being able to show their elbows or knees, and that married women needed to cover their hair, so I was somewhat apprehensive. But shoot, it was so laid back, it was nothing like that. Everyone sat mixed up and people dressed fairly casually. Some of the teens wore minis and flip-flops. And everyone was so friendly, particularly an older, retired rabbi. He seemed interested in why I was there and asked me lots of questions about myself, including what religion I fall into. When I said, "None, and I'm not interested in Christianity overmuch," he replied that I should find a religion of some kind. I can see why, that group formed a very cohesive community. It would be nice to go somewhere regularly where everybody knows you. Oh, this was a very small Temple; I had assumed that it would be enormous and that I wouldn't even be noticed. Afterward I was invited to stay for a spell and have some food. Cool! Cheese, crackers, wine and fresh fruit.

I wonder if I should take up the Jewish faith. Seldom have I been anywhere that was so welcoming. Doctors, lawyers, professors, but you wouldn't be able to tell; everyone was very down-to-earth. And it was cool to me that they didn't collect tithes. But I dunno, I dislike regimentation of any kind, and reciting ritual prayers seems kind of meaningless to me. Would it mean I'd have to learn Hebrew and have a Bat Mitzvah and stuff? --Gahhhh *more* schooling?

Besides, I shore do luvs my bacon cheeseburgers. Also, I celebrate not being held to some [more] arbitrary conventions. Like, on that one day when all the Catholics on campus went around with those black smudges on their foreheads. I kept wanting to say, "hey, you've got something on your face!" And you know, I don't have to give up anything for lent and I can eat leavened bread on Passover.

Part of me craves to belong somewhere; I guess I'm a bit of a lost sheep (or a lone wolf?). But community is a double-edges sword: you get the feeling of belonging and support, but then, you have responsibilities to the group.

One thing I noticed was something in the prayer book about how God has chosen the Jews above all others. I guess all religions think that about themselves.

Referring to the racism issue, why are people anti-Semitic? They were white as white can be, educated and contributing to the community. What da dillio?

However, I feel that the Israelis are obstinately violating another country's boundaries by just arriving and taking up residence because their doctrine tells them so. In Marge Piercy's book, He, She and It, that part of the world is blown off the map as a result. But I'm probably stepping on landmines here so I'll quit.

Eeee, I found a Temple to attend and the service is in about two hours. I left a message with the rabbi, asking him if it would be okay for me to attend and what the dress requirements are, but he's probably busy and won't call me back. Crap, I don't know what to wear. I guess I'll be safe and wear some nice pants ... except that all my "professional" wear is now too big for me. Cinch that belt, girl! Do women have to cover their heads? It's under the category of "reform," so hopefully the won't be too rigid.

Actually, you know, it's not much of a mystery why Sylvia Plath off'd herself. In a depressed state, the mind manufactures its own brand of logic. I should know that. Just called in for a refill of my antidepressants this very morning.

Visited the community college where I'll hopefully be taking math this summer. Nice campus, I wish I'd gone there instead of the university right off. I'm considering college algebra the first half of the summer and finite the second half. That's a lot of fucking math, but consider that afterward I will n e v e r h a v e t o t a k e m a t h a g a i n i n m y w h o l e f r e a k i n ' l i f e. Man, that sounds sweet.

The lady sitting at the computer next to me offered some chocolate. Bless her! Bless her!

In sociology we're on religion and stuff. Interesting subject, from a distance. :-) I don't subscribe to organized religion, myself, which is not to say that I'm an atheist or even agnostic. I've got my own ideas about spirituality and such.

I'm probably anti-religion because of my upbringing in the Bible Belt. Being told I'm not one of God's children, that I'll go to hell, people trying to recruit me, "save" me, etc. My ninth grade science partner arrived in school one Monday and told me that she'd led the youth group in a prayor for my soul because I kept refusing to go to service with her. I was like, "thanks." Yeah, thanks a fucking lot. My peers were in that group and undoubtedly it contributed further to my estrangement.

Fervently religious people give me the pip because they're so hard-headed and self-righteous. I'm not gonna bother to give any examples, you know what I'm talking about. It just seems wrong to me, that religion brings about judgement. That, and the fact that churches obtain a great deal of money--fuck that.

Although I will admit, I've missed out on the community that church provides, a rock, an anchor of some kind. But if it's at the cost of my free thinking, my opinions, then it's not worth it.

So, back to sociology, we have to attend a service of a denomination to which we don't belong (which for me is all of them of course) and report about it. I think that'll be interesting. I'd like to check out Judaism (not Orthodox), as I'm not terribly interested in Christianity. Don't they hold their mass on Fridays? I'd better go check it out.

I'm just glad we're off the topics of social stratification and racism. I basically stopped being a participant in the class and let everything carry on around me. You know? "I'm sorry I was born white, I didn't mean it!"

There's an article in the "reader" section of the book that we were required to read entitled, "White Racism, A Sociology of Human Waste." As if "regular" racism wasn't bad enough. In class the teacher went on at great length about discrimination and the troubles facing urban blacks, and yes, it's all true. Then last night when discussing voter turnout, it was revealed that most voters are highly educated, affluent old white guys. Well, there's your problem, right there. Maybe if more people voted, things would change.

But what the fuck do I know. I don't have any answers. All I know is, I live my life the best way that I can and live by the Golden Rule.

The only place that I've ever been where I didn't feel the vibrations of racial tension was New York City, and that's where I want to live.

1:09 PM

Dag-nabbit, I'm constipulated. I hate that. Means, of course, that I didn't drink enough fluids yesterday. Hopefully a cup or two of black tea with lemon and honey will do the trick.

Checked out Sylvia Plath's unabridged journals from the library and found it to be a hard slog. Wordy. And man, the elaborate style she used to write in her journal, ostensibly for her eyes only! Makes me feel very "down and dirty" with my plainspoken ways. I'd still like to read The Bell Jar, and maybe a biography written by someone else. She interests me. What the hell did she off herself for? A mystery of the universe.

Thursday, April 14, 2005

Holy fucking shit. At the computer lab, where cell phones are verbotin, or at least we're supposed to take conversations to the hallway, and two seats away from me a little beeyotch is yacking away. Blah blah blah blah. It's pissing me the fuck off. She's got a headset so it's not visually obvious.

Anyway, wrote more stuff this morning but forgot my zip disk. Hell I'm hungry.

Was just looking up German words that I might use in my presentation Monday. I don't want to prepare too much, it's just an off-the-cuff thing, but I also don't want to encounter basic words that I don't know.

My doll auction ends soon and I should at least get a hunnert. Better than a poke in the eye with a sharp stick, you know? It's a hunnert I didn't have before.

I had a dream this morning about D., Shay's daughter. I asked her if she liked the doll I gave her for her birthday, a Tiny Kitty, and she said that she liked it very much. Then I asked her if she liked the doll Eduard gave her and she said that she didn't, that it was stupid. I laughed, meanly glad. Weird dream. It did bug me that Shay didn't bother to say so much as a thank you for the present I gave her daughter (which, incidentally, was the day Eduard and I broke up). She's like school in summertime, no class. [Lame joke courtesy of Fat Albert--the cartoon, not the movie.]

I can't stand the neighbors across the way, even when they're not fighting. They're so ooey-gooey treacly sweet, it makes me sick. Loud and phony laughing, giggling, cooing. Ugh.

Wednesday, April 13, 2005

I'm gonna have pizza tonight, I got the bread machine going. Funny how I almost never use the thing. Funny how, after my divorce, I spent oodles on every kitchen gadget known to mankind but I'm almost never in the kitchen. I'd just as soon drive through Taco Smell. Speaking of which, I haven't been in several weeks. The older white guy who works there who creeps me out said to me last time, "Good to see you!" I'm like, oh Christ, you know? Like, just sell me my fucking taco.

I think I bought the kitchen gadgets because they were things that the ex and I wanted but we were never "allowed" to purchase. He held onto the purse strings with an iron fist because he wanted to "get ahead." But it was okay for him to spend money when he underwent his premature mid-life crisis and changed his personality, beginning with his clothes. *big sigh* No point in going there. As it turned out, I married a fucking freak.

Peep got a slight static discharge from my finger onto her nose and she dashed off, thinking that I'd done it on purpose.

One kitchen appliance I do use regularly ironically cost only $20: my iced tea maker. Love it.

Newman's sleeping on the couch, looking impossibly adorable. I'm gonna go pester him.

Later

The kittens just knocked over a box filled with styrofoam peanuts. Incorrigible kitties.

For the first time, on my last repaint, I gave her "enhanced breasts," meaning nipples. What the hell, if it'll help sell the doll. It reminded me of when I was little and I'd put nipples and pubic hair on my Barbies with crayons. An artist from the start. Because of my early sexualization, or maybe it's normal, I don't know, I played "dirty" Barbies. I only had one male doll and that was Big Jim. Previously my brother's, he had a lever in his back that made him give karate-chops, and he flexed his biceps. His face was very handsome, but he only came up to about Barbie's bust, a circumstance about which he had no complaints. Well, Big Jim owned a gym where he taught fitness classes, wherein all the Barbies were put in various compromising positions and he'd then "take advantage" of them. Nasty Big Jim. I wonder if I could find one on eBay.

Ken's always been such a goofy gay guy. The very first ones, with the straight legs and the flocking on the head, man, totally gay. Then when I was, you know, five or six, Ken was actually handsome, with his big smile and thick brows. I like those Kens, Malibu Ken and Mod Hair Ken. I wanted Mod Hair Ken but my mom wouldn't get him for me, he was such a damn hippy. Then in the 80's came the Kens with the chunky faces and anchorman hair. Fugly. He got marginally better-looking later on with the "Alan" sculpt but was still goofy as hell. Nowadays, with the 007 sculpt, that's probably the best-looking Ken since Malibu. Anyway. I don't know why I went on like that, I'm totally over Barbie.

Pizza dough is done.

9:28 PM

Gooood cheese pizza. Rivals the campus Pizza Slut. Shoot, with that loaf of mozzarella I bought from the warehouse, flour, and my bread machine, I could have cheese pizza every day if I want. I think I'll do that. I need to take food to campus, duh.

For quite a while now I've been interested in learning about airbrushing. I wonder where and how I can do that.

Doing things in a haphazard fashion as is my wont, I was in the VA campus office (free printing) and I heard other people talking about registering for next semester. Without any planning or forethought whatsoever, I figured I'd try it and see what happened. Turns out, the system let me register, I picked some classes and I'm in. Kewl. Except that over the summer I have to take algebra at a community college, yessireebob. For registration purposes it would be much easier to take algebra at the university, but the class would be ten times harder and I'm likely to fail it [again, ahem]. Guess I'll dash over to the community college on Friday and see what I need to do. Likely I'll have to request transcripts from every little podunk community college I've ever attended over the past twenty years, which is a pain in the ass, especially for the purpose of taking one lousy class. :-P

Anywho, I took: human anatomy and physiology (more interesting than general biology, I hope), American women artists, intro to ceramics, and intermediate German.

Speaking of German, that instructor gives me the pip. Regarding an upcoming group presentation, she goes on about, "If you want a good grade..." This was supposed to be a freakin' lightweight course and she runs it like a brownshirt. Pfthhhh. And she pulls rules arbitrarily out her ass without any consistency. Blah.

Tuesday, April 12, 2005

Well, just in case my doll doesn't sell for much, after today I need to start another one. Today I've got to write a sociology paper though, plus there's an exam. Shit always steamrolls toward the end of the semester, and that's when my enthusiasm and energy wane.

Funny about my dolls. People just don't seem to dig them. When some other artists post their latest, people fall all over themselves to fawn over their creations. When I post mine, all you hear is the sound of crickets chirping. Are my dolls really crap and I just can't see it? Or is it an "outside the clique" thing? The latter would be par for the course. I read a description of personalities with Aquarius rising, and holy shit, it was me, right on the head. Always on the outside looking in.

Well, I've been bitten by a dangerous bug: The desire for an Asian ball-jointed doll. I'm dead. Oh, they're expensive. They've never called to me before; I don't like the animae look of most of them, or space alien or whatever you want to call it. Enormous eyes, pointy chin and tiny mouth. But I've come across the U-noa Quluts Sist, and she is so darling. Her facial features are more proportional to a child's and she has such a sweet, petite little figure. A lot of those dolls have busts of embarrassing proportions. I must try to get my hands on one. It would be awesome, too, to paint her face myself, and change her eyes and her wigs. Neat! If I do manage to get my hands on a Sist, it'll only be that one (maybe two) and not a whole collection of them, which I could never afford.

Oh, the optical place did screw up my glasses. They're going to re-do the lenses for me. Whew! I was worried about having to go around with them as-is.

4:00 p.m.

I just checked my auction and it seems to be going well, so that's good.

I was sitting next to the hot lol' goth punk dude, but he just left. He's far too young for me, and I don't want him to catch dirty old lady vibes, which he may already have. *sigh*

Monday, April 11, 2005

I set my alarm early and woke up late anyway. I didn't hear it. What happened? It didn't help that I went to bed early last night but was unable to sleep the whole night through until the wee hours.

And today's dark as shit and pouring rain. Pffth. I was taking for granted that it would be a beautiful, perfect day so that I could take pics of my latest doll outdoors. How'm I going to get pics of her now? Have to set up an indoor photo shoot, I guess. She *needs* to go on eBay.

And I have to carry all my dollies to class for that dumb presentation in this rain, too. Well, maybe by then it will have stopped.

Wonder how the presentation will go over. Men are funny about dolls. I had a friend in the marine corps, Bob, who used to go shopping with me at Toys R Us. It was the mid-80's and I was into playline Barbies. Well, driving back to the base, Bob would say, "Can I open the box?" I'd say, "Sure," and the first thing he did after getting her free of the packaging was take off her clothes. One time we were at a stoplight and the lady in the next car stared as us curiously. Bob shook the naked doll at her and went, "Nyaahhhh!" and she quickly looked away. It was so funny. [People are oddly offended by doll nudity.] That was the thing about Bob, he used to make me laugh my ass off. First words I ever heard come out of his mouth: "Ya got any paper assholes?" in reference to those paper hole reinforcers. I thought, "Who the fuck is this guy?" But we got to be good friends. Then he got an early discharge, got his ear pierced, and went home, back east. Apparently his parents were well-to-do or something. They made him take out his earring and they put him through college. He started wearing preppy clothes. I called him after I got out and was treated like I had shit on my shoes. That's the way it goes. Why do my friendships always end unhappily.

Missy's got shit in her butt fur and I don't have time to bathe her. :-(

1:47 PM

Missy doesn't just have shit in her butt fur, she got shit all over the apartment. Gawd.

So I went to German class and my presentation wasn't until next Monday. Whatever. Took all my dolls and everything. And I was feeling really fluent today. Sometimes my German flows and sometimes it chokes.

Man, it is tempting to lie down for some more sleep. But the sun came out so I have to take pics of the dolly.

Sunday, April 10, 2005

I find that German teacher to be annoying. The others feel the same way. First of all, she's from Monaco and German is not her first language; she often makes mistakes. More importantly, personality-wise, she's weird. I mean, the other day she goes, out of the blue, "We're going to give presentations. You," pointing at me, "You're presentation is this Monday. What is your topic?" Just like that. I told her, "I don't know." She repeated, "I'll need to know your topic," and I told her again, "I don't know." Asshole. At forty years of age, I'm not letting some pissant little teacher push me around.

So, I guess I'll talk about my hobbies of doll collecting and doll repainting. It's only supposed to take ten minutes or so, so I'm not worried about it. I do need to look up some words, though, like "factory" and "collecting."

Saturday, April 09, 2005

I’ve got a headache. Is it from: sleeping too much, my new eyeglass prescription, which is pretty wiggy, or from all that miniaturist painting I did last night? Or, the fact that I keep forgetting my nighttime dose of Wellbutrin. Pfftthhhhh.

I had to set the grammar checker on “casual” in Werrrd, it was being way too nit-picky.

Did some good painting last night and I have hopes that this dolly might do well. I deviated from my usual style and applied heavier, darker makeup. We’ll see.

I took some watercolors to my shrink appointment and she said I should sell paintings on eBay. That was a nice compliment, and not a bad idear either. I’ll have to check it out and see what the market’s like. I could maybe do pet portraits.

Still in two minds on two important issues: whether or not to keep the cats permanently and also whether or not to move. With the cats, it’s hard because my apartment is so small, less than 700 square feet, and they jump onto every horizontal surface, knocking over everything. It basically means that if my stuff’s not in a closed cabinet, I can’t have it out. And as to moving, I don’t know if I can be bothered with the trouble and expense. I mean, I’ve got a couple more years of school left and then I plan to ditch this city. I was hoping that by moving into a more “happenin’” neighborhood, my social life might improve. But hell, I’m so used to being alone that I could really give a shit about that. A social life keeps me away from my work anyway. Who knows. I don’t have to decide right this minute. With my lousy credit rating, it’s a fair possibility that I wouldn’t be able to move anyway. Besides, staying here where they're building one of those super-duper retail center mo-fo's across the street is tempting. How handy is that?

It cracks me the fuck up, that they're building the store here, in a relatively run-down area. Does that mean they're trying to "gentrify" the whole place? Oh lord.

Well, coffee mug’s empty and me lil’ kitten-kats are hungry.

2:34 PM

You know what’s weird? The cats kinda quack or squeak, I don’t know how to describe it, when they’re sitting at the window and they see a bird that they want real bad. Is this normal? :-) The first time I heard them do it, I was like, "what the hell?"

I don't seem to be so allergic to the cats anymore. For one thing, they're on the raw diet, which means fewer toxins in their systems that they're shedding. For another, though, maybe I just got used to them. I do take asthma medication, but as for the more topical allergies that used to plague me, the more "hayfever" type symptoms, well, I seldom get those anymore. I'll bet if this place were spic-and-span, I might not even have to take my asthma meds. It's probably my own filth that's making me sick.

8:56 PM

I think the optical place screwed up my prescription. I'm gonna have to follow up on that. 'Cause, I also got sunglasses and they don't mess with my eyes like my regular glasses. By the way, my sunglasses RAWK! It's the first time in over ten years I've gotten prescription sunglasses. You know how tiring it is to go squinting, frowning and screwing up all my facial muscles every time I go outside? Not to mention the nice wrinkles I've acquired as a result. And these are even polarized, which I didn't know you could do with prescription lenses. Man, I'm loving it.

It's not like my kitties to be clingy and low-energy, but they've been sacked out all day. Took a nap with me and everything. Missy's on my lap and she was sleeping a minute ago. Went into REM sleep with her lil' paws twitching and her eyes opening, revealing that third eyelid. Freaky. I wonder what cats dream about?

Talking about being alone earlier; I need some type of flesh-and-blood companion, and I find animals easier to get along with in the long-term than humans.

I have to admit that XP is kinda nice (*choking on words*). It's cool that I don't need separate software to download pictures from my camera. And as for my camera, oh *yeah*! I'm totally digging it.

I took pictures of a bunch of dollies today, outside in the sunshine. It's awkward playing dollies in front of the neighbors. Always invites comment. "Ya got a kid?" "No, I'm my own kid." The pictures revealed that my repaint needs more work. I had the irises really nice but then I fucked them up, and the eyeshadow sucks. I'm not into it tonight, though. I've decided that I'll do it tomorrow in the daylight. Hmm, but y'know, I could do her hair tonight and then not worry about it tomorrow. Alright.

Missy's grooming the back of my hand raw with her rough tongue. Ouch. I should have her go to town on my face, I wouldn't need dermabrasion. Once in bed she did try to lick my eyes but that hurt. Didn't mean to hurt her feelings, but I couldn't take it.

Friday, April 08, 2005

So lately I've been thinking, I really hate my major. I don't know why that's a new thought to me, maybe because I'm not taking any English classes this semester. Maybe a part of me felt that I "should" be an English major for some reason. Well, 'cause I love to read, I dig writing too, and I've always been good at grammar, spelling, syntax, etc. Kinda. Sorta. But I fucking hate English classes. Assign some books to choke down in record time, then sit in class and listen to the blow-asses discuss how this symbolizes that. I'm always like, "Where the hell did you get that?" And write papers on the shit too. I actually wrote a paper comparing Xenobia from The Blithedale Romance to Huckleberry Finn. No joke. I mean, who cares? Ugh. I can't see doing this until I get a degree, especially considering exactly how very many lit classes are necessary for a degree in creative writing. And then when it comes to the actual writing, it's just workshops. I dunno, I thought there would be more instruction, more how-to's. I've decided that if I want to become a writer, it won't be necessary to have a degree in creative writing.

I'm thinking I'll either major in German and minor in fine art, or vice-versa. I have to talk to the German counselor and see what she says.

This is fucking funny.

Wheeeee! Wheeeeeeee! I figured out how to link! Wooooo!

Love my coffee. I don't know what I'd do without it.

Officially out of money. But, hopefully I won't be overdrawn again, which is very costly. So, I get to dolly this weekend. Got some ideas.

Laurie Leigh, a premier doll artist, has begun a column in Haute Doll magazine, showing repaint techniques. I'm shocked that she's giving away her methods! Shows she's very secure and generous by nature. So I guess what's gonna happen is that a lot of improved dolls will be on the market soon. I'd love to learn but I hesitate to employ her techniques because I'd feel like it's stealing, and also, I want my stuff to be unique. *sigh*

My new glasses are tripping me out. Actually, the frames were free from Shay. Some guy-friend of hers who she was stringing along (seems that all the guys are into her, shows you how valuable a rack can be) had given her a case full of brand-new, designer frames. Do not ask me why. Anywho, so Shay gave me a pair. Although I was the one who picked them out, I'm not sure I like them. They're kinda heavy looking, and not too far from my marine corps birth control glasses (BCG's) in shape. Still, they were free and it doesn't really matter what I look like, I'm just a college student. Heheheheh.

Better shower and go to my shrink appointment. My last one went well. I have to make sure not to bring up topics where she'll start to rag on me. Otherwise, the sessions are quite enjoyable. I like talking to her.

Thursday, April 07, 2005

This year is passing by so quickly. *Everything* is passing by so quickly.

Well, I'd better not let the computer screen seduce me into sitting in a stupor today; I have too much to do.

Newman, Missy and Peep are being krazy kats today. But they listen to me more than they used to, especially Peep. I named her that because she made these funny little sounds when she was a kitten, not a meow exactly. Kinda like a vehement "Eah!" sometimes sticking her tongue out. So cute. Sometimes she would converse with me. I'd say, "How are you doing, Peep?" "Eah!" "Is that so, Peep?" "Eah!" "What are you going to do about that, Peep?" "Eah!"

I have a cuckoo clock that was a present from my Oma to my father. It's got those long chains to wind it up, with metal rings on the end. When the kittens were very, very small, about five weeks old or so, I heard some piteous crying and I looked and saw Missy hanging by her canines, which she'd gotten stuck in one of the rings. Poor thing. She was always getting into something. She was the one who fell into the toilet. But she only did it once.

I saw Sin City the other night. A guy I knew from a past class was in the ticket booth, which was kinda funny. What can I say about the movie? It was alright. Ooh, that is so descriptive. I enjoyed it but it left me unmoved. No regrets seeing it. You know. Jessica Alba gyrates very nicely in slo-mo. Rosario Dawson has, like, the most perfect complexion ever. I agree with one critic who said that Brittany Murphy is gawd-awful. Funny how all the male characters, with the exception of Clive Owen, spoke in a gruff, hoarse voice. I guess that's how comic-book guys talk.

Yesterday my watercolor teacher didn't like the assignment I'd turned in and told me to do it again. I was pissed.

My glasses are in, yay.

Wednesday, April 06, 2005

Man, I just ran into tall, dark and lanky in the art building. Just when I was 90% successful in getting him out of my head; "he's just not that into me." He isn't, of course. If he was, he would have sought me out: called me, emailed. So I'm not going to pine away for him anymore. But I still love him and want to have his baby. Wait, wait, where did that come from? The fact is, I want someone to love and he happens to have a penis, it's as simple as that. Well, maybe not quite that simple. He embodies lots of qualities I want in a man and he flirted with me like mad a couple of summers ago, but the fact of the matter is, shall I say it again? He's just not that into me.

At least during our brief exchange I didn't lose control of my faculties. I didn't tremble all over, my knees didn't knock together, I didn't start to sweat, I didn't turn beet red, and I'm the one who ended the conversation and walked away first.

*sigh* I guess I need to start wearing tighter t-shirts if I want any male attention.

Tuesday, April 05, 2005

First thing today, before I even put my glasses on, was to give Newman a bath. And that's his least favorite activity in the whole wide world. Last time, he scratched me to ribbons. So I had him firmly scruffed this time and I didn't get a scratch, not that he didn't try. He had a big ol' clot of stinky poop pressed into the fur beneath his tail--gross. Now he's not speaking to me, but he's trying to dry himself. He wouldn't let me towel him much, but it's not cold in here. Poor Mr. Truman Newman. Lil' goober. He'll stick his paws into the fish tank soon enough, or play in the bathtub. Then Missy and Peep were all worried that they were next. Lucky for them, I don't feel like it. But soon, my children, soon. Bwaaahaa-haaa-haaaaa!

I've been thinking that I'd love to get into the doll-making business somehow. I love dolls. Sometimes I feel I don't want to do anything else. Something my SIL asked last weekend was, if the dolls came with blank faces. I said, "I wish!" I don't know if I'd like to try to start something from scratch, which of course is very difficult, or if I'd be content working for someone else. I wonder if it pays at all. Probably not. Oh, I just remembered, most dolls are produced in factories in China. Hmm. Well, maybe there aren't many career options there after all.

I didn't take my meds yesterday. Evidence: my dizzy spells when I move my head too soon. Oh well, I took them today.

Monday, April 04, 2005

Yes, yes, yes, I remembered (barely) to pay my rent before going to bed last night.

I lost my spiffy customized Werrd toolbars so I'll have to make some more. They were slick, too. I'd made them at work (and then carried them around with me wherever I went) so they had easy buttons for managing tables and other neat shit like that. Of course I don't do such extensive formatting anymore. I used to be quite the Werrd guru, back in the day, before everyone started learning it. It was like, "Newpeep! How do you do this?" "Newpeep! Help me!" Actually, it was a pain in the ass. I was like, "Why can't you read the fucking book like I did?" I said to one person to try using the help menu, and she actually replied, "I find the help options to be a joke." Well, she was an asshole for a bunch of reasons.

Found some old backup CD's and had a look. They were from about four or five years ago, during my separation/divorce, and full of hurtful stuff. No point in going there.

I'm feeling kinda down. And crap, I can't remember whether or not I took my meds today. I feel a nap coming on.

8:20 p.m.

It's funny that I adore Coke with a splash of lemon or lime juice, or even mixed with orange juce, but that I can't stand the new "Coke with Lime" stuff on the market. Doesn't taste right at all and actually has muted Coke taste. It's all just chemicals anyway. So says I.

Schweet, my bro gave me a copy of Werrrrd. No more of that WordPad shit. I, ahem, made another batch of brownies after the overbaked ones and took them over there so I wouldn't eat the whole damn pan. They think my camera's bitchen. Did an abstract water color on their back patio, where I slapped down some colors straight out of the tube and then slathered water all over the whole thing and watched what happened. I think it's kewl and I'll probably hang it up. I hardly recognized my niece, she's growing so fast. Other than that, not much going on.

Saturday, April 02, 2005

I've become so addicted to the internet that I've forgotten the more traditional way to do things. Like, I needed the number to the optical shop where I got some new glasses to see if they've arrived yet, and I'm thinking, I don't have Anywho.com, I'll have to dial 411 and get charged for it. And then it daw

GAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! Newman was chewing on one of my prized dolls! NOOOOOOOOOO! I let the cats contribute to the destruction of my apartment, but don't fuck with my dolls. I don't ask much.

Anyway, it occurred to me that the phone books were delivered the other day and I'd put mine in front of the vacant apartment next door. You remember, white paper and black ink? Duh. So I dashed over and retrieved them.

And the glasses haven't arrived yet. No prob.

Going back to the subject of dolls, wow, I got my first Fashion Royalty (FR) this week. Holy shit, Jason Wu puts all other dollmakers to shame. Shame, I say! I've never seen such quality and fastidious attention to detail before. Even the stand telescopes so the doll actually *stands* on it rather than toppling over. The metal-framed sunglasses have legs that *fold*. I'm smitten. She's the Exotic Fire Veronique. Awesome facial sculpt and nice ash-brown hair. But, sorry, really didn't care for the facial screening. Highly stylized and heavy on the orange. So, I'm repainting her. Others have repainted FR's, and quite beautifully I might add, but I don't think I'll be able to put in the detail they have. I don't know how they did it, the FR's are so small. Anyway, she's for my collection and not for sale. Depending upon how she turns out, I might get some more, because they fetch quite a lot on eBay. I want to get a jump on painting and selling so I don't wind up in the same boat as last month.

I like repainting a lot more when I work on two dolls at a time: one for sale and one for me. In the past I guess I felt frustrated or resentful because I always had to part with my work. Well, no more. As soon as I get around to it, I would like to give my mandolls a makeover; they look so gay. Butch up, guys! Grow some stones.

I'm baking another batch of brownies, this time with 2/3 cup sugar instead of a full cup. Yeah, I have a blanced diet alright. Plenty of fat and sugar, just like the USDA recommends.
Later, same day...

Bah, I overbaked the brownies. Ruined! They're not supposed to be crunchy, are they? Damn.

10:23 p.m.

Nothing's coming together in regards to my painting today, especially the FR. She's so damn tiny. I guess I'll have to settle for a more primitive, cartoony facial paint for now. In the future I can always remove her paint and start again if the idea grabs me.
Painting dolls makes me so tired.

Dusty Newspaper Clippings and other mental disorder