Dusty Newspaper Clippings and other mental disorder: August 2005

Wednesday, August 31, 2005

Reading about the damage in New Orleans and elsewhere, god.

I think I might have to write off my SIL altogether. Last time I saw her was early July, when she drove us back from the family reunion, being a cunt the whole time. That's not a word I use lightly, btw. Well, I phoned my bro last night to ask if he might have a scientific or graphing calculator I can borrow for the semester for algebra (he and SIL are engineers). He said that there's an old one of SIL's that I can borrow and that I can go over there this weekend to pick it up. Meanwhile, I can hear SIL in the background, still being a cunt. What is her problem?!

Then today he calls me and says the calculator doesn't work. Know what I think? I think that SIL is (a) unwilling to loan to it me, and (b) doesn't want me to go over this weekend -- or ever.

You know, fuck this. I swear to you I never did a damn thing to her, was always friendly and respectful, but she's always disliked me for some reason. I may as well pretend that I already live out of state, which I will eventually anyway. It's a shame I live in the same city as my BRO and only get to see him once or twice a year. I like my bro but I can't associate with him if he's going to let his ball-and-chain run his life. Too bad. Plus I'll miss their dog. Otherwise, fergit it.

Several years ago, Bro and SIL had marital problems. Well, specifically, she cheated on him. It was within the first year or two they were married. They decided to stay together and go through couples counseling. Honestly, I think he should have dumped her back then.

But it's none of my business.

One of these days I'm going to be very successful at whatever it is I'll do and I'll show her! And I'll show my fucknuckle ex-husband too. I'll show everybody!

Had to get that off my chest.

Kate the Peon has some recent posts that could pass for my thoughts, except that I wasn't articulate enough to write them down. She mentions a high school reunion coming up. This year was the 20th anniversary of my high school graduation, but if there was a reunion, I didn't hear about it.

Finally went to the IRS yesterday in regards to my 2004 return, which I didn't file, thinking that I don't have enough income; however, without a return on record I can't complete my financial aid application. I mentioned that I sell crap on eBay and the person at the counter replied that I'm self-employed and that I need to fill out a small business form. Well, this sucks. Nevertheless, I'll fill out the form and turn it in, just so that I can get that financial aid shit taken care of. Need it bad. Don't have money for books. No biggie for the lit class because I found what I need at the library, but it's a problem for German, where the textbooks cannot be found at the library or the language lab, and I'm already behind.

This will come as no surprise to anyone who's read Jude the Obscure, but crap! I finished it last night and now I don't like it nearly as much. Actually, I thought it was pretty stupid at the end, with all the to-ing and fro-ing. Too much like Melrose Place or Friends, where they behaved as if there was no one else on the planet. Plus I thought the catalyst towards the end was very arbitrary and extreme.

Tuesday, August 30, 2005

Girl #1: Jeez, that old woman just
standing in the middle of the sidewalk, I wanted to push
her.

Girl #2:
You're never too old to learn a lesson.

--Balthazar, Spring
Street

Overheard by: zrd

Monday, August 29, 2005

Whoa. Sitting in a brand-new computer lab at the community college campus where I'm taking algebra (not the same community college I went last semester). Very slick. Everything's shiny and new and smells like new plastic. Unfortunately, they don't have any floppy drives, so there goes my sneaker net, at least from here. The university's computers are a bit older so that'll still work for now.

So, regarding the algebra class ... I'm not impressed with the teacher, but check this out: we're allowed to use calculators on exams, the lowest grade for homework is dropped, and he drops the lowest exam grade. How schweet is that? So, even if the material isn't any easier, there's still more likelihood of me making a decent (or at least passing) grade. I'm relieved. In the algebra class I took at the university, I'd turn in a test thinking that I did alright, and got it back with, like, a 35 or something. Gawd.

Gotta go to school this morning. This evening is my first algebra class, groan. But just think how nice it'll be to have it done for good.

I'm so out of the loop without internet or T.V. that I didn't know New Orleans has been evacuated. I have acquaintances there; this is very worrying. I wish the best for everyone.

As for myself, not much going on, just sitting here sipping my tea. I've been such a devoted coffee snob for so long, roasting my own green coffee beans and brewing with a vaccuum brewer, but now it's been months since I've had my own coffee. Why? My roaster is buried beneath a pile of junk and I'm too lazy to get to it. It's far easier to heat some water in a cup and throw in a tea bag.

Still getting over my cold, which I reckon will take another few days, but the worst is over, knock on wood. My chest is congested but loostening up.

Didn't get to a computer all weekend; I hate that. The "business office" at the complex is closed again because some nimrod made off with the only key. No matter, it was always clogged in there anyway. Gawd.

Now that I'm thinking about it (and I'd forgotten about it completely), my shrink fucking pisses me off. What the fuck kind of a shrink is she and who the hell does she think she is, talking to me like that?!

Sunday, August 28, 2005

I can't find my phone anywhere, and it needs to be charged.

Damn that echinacea shit *works*! I remember using it before for a sinus infection. This time, the cold headed for my chest, which is already bad due to asthma, and about twelve hours after starting the echinacea, my lungs started to clear. I need to go buy some more and keep taking it for another week or so. I hate when it's difficult to draw breath; then my back starts to hurt from the effort. This morning I felt my lungs operating fully again, albeit wheezily, from the diaphragm. Thank gawd. What's weird is that the muscles around my lungs are sore now, as if they've had a tough workout. The echinacea saved me from having to go to the triage at the VA hospital, never a fun experience.

Saturday, August 27, 2005

Just sitting here. The cats are going hog-wild all over the place, dunno why. Doesn't bother me, though, except when they do it at night. One of these days I do need to get another enclosed cabinet for my dolls so they won't get knocked over.

I think my cold might be getting better, thank gawd. Yesterday I was feeling a bit feverish. I went to the grocery store and bought the store-brand extra-strength Theraflu. Plus, I found my bottle of echinacea and started myself on a course of those. I'm low, though, and they're expensive -- damn. But anyway, I slept well last night. So right now I'm having my tea except my sense of taste is shot.

There you have Newpeep's health report.

I phoned Beth last night and told her what my shrink said to me and she got so mad she actually apologized for her. I do have to wonder what the hell goes on in the shrink's mind, berating me like that, when she knows that it's exactly what my mother used to do the whole time I lived at home. Maybe it's her version of "tough love" or something, maybe she thinks depressives have had enough coddling. It's okay, I've modified my relationship with her in my mind: she's merely an agent for the VA and is not my advocate.

Overall, I feel stronger inside. Even when the shrink told me for the umpteenth time, "You'll probably wind up being a secretary again," and it upset me, deep inside I was like, "it's her words and that's all they are, it's not reality." So, I didn't own it. Still, though, I marvel at her baldfaced statement, "You're not interested in art, you don't want to be an artist," just based on the fact that I'm not taking an art class this semester. Sure don't know where that came from.

For practicality's sake, I'll probably stick to English as a major and drop art to a minor when the time comes. And, even though I'd prefer to major in creative writing, I think I'll stay with just "general" English, as the creative writers have to take even *more* lit classes. And besides, the creative writing classes are just workshops, not lectures. So there's no real instruction on technique or what-have-you. I'm not so thrilled with workshops. The last one I took, even the instructor said that about 95% of the advice you get from others is unusable.

4:53 PM

Read the first two sections of Jude the Obscure. Love that title. Anyway, I relate very strongly to the character of Jude so far.

Friday, August 26, 2005

Just left my shrink's office. She was in rag mode again. She hasn't been like that for quite a long time, so why now. I dunno, and I don't care either. She says I need to quit drifting, set down a concrete career plan and stick to it. Well, I don't bloody know what I want to do, alright? I've just figured that I'll get a degree and then see what happens next, kind of operating on faith. However, the VA doesn't work that way. So, what I've resolved is to just tell them what they want to hear. You think I should become a teacher? Fine. I'll be a teacher. Whatever.

Then she goes off telling me that I have no interest in pursuing art, because I dropped the summer watercolor class and this fall's ceramics class, and because I'm not taking any art classes right now. WTF? Can't a person have a break?! How the fuck does she know that I'm not interested in art? And she tells me that I'll probably end up a secretary again. I'll tell you right now, if it came to that, I would off myself, because life wouldn't be worth living, and I mean it. That's how strongly I feel that I'm NOT going to be a secretary again, yet she keeps holding that over my head -- she's said that often. I don't need some dickhead telling me what my interests are and what will become of me. Y'know?

Thursday, August 25, 2005

Don't really have much to say. Out of money again. I'm sick. Blah. I took Theraflu and slept so I feel somewhat better, although I'm definitely out of it. Today's gonna be a long day, I have to go to the post office before class. Plus, I need to get to the campus well before class time to find a parking space and if there's any time left over, use the computer, because my classes run from 1 p.m. to 5:30 p.m., non-stop.

Wanna hear something sweet? Newman slept with me all night! He never does that.

I'm sure I mentioned that I'm in a German class this semester. Well, a classmate mentioned that he almost didn't register for any more German classes because that one brown shirt left him with such a sense of dread, and dude, I felt the same way! Fortunately, I think this semester's teacher is good. It feels good to speak German. I think I'm more advanced than my classmates, but since I never learned grammar, I feel I'm in the right class even so. If I'd taken a higher-level class, I would have been behind.

Wednesday, August 24, 2005

Retrieved my floppy, it was still in the drive of the computer I used yesterday.

Once I get up and going I'm not quite as bad, but having colds sucks a big fat one.

So I went to German class and the teacher is quite pleasant. She's American. No Moroccan beeyotch who can't speak German or English this time. Who, by the way, has become well-known to German students as a teacher to avoid! I had a good vent session with a couple of other students and that felt very good. She gave other people worse grades than B-'s. Hell, maybe she didn't dare give me lower because she knew I'd take it to a higher authority. One of the worst teachers I've encountered since my high school days in football-oriented BFE. But that's in the past. Now I know that if I ever see her name on a schedule, to turn and run the other way.

My throat, uhhhhhhhhh. My nose has slowed down to a trickle thanks to the vitamin C's I jammed last night. Better take some more now. The radio has this "war of the roses" segment where they'll call some guy posing as who-knows-what and offer him a dozen long-stemmed roses for free, to send to whoever (whomever?) he wants. This is to try to catch him out if he's been cheating. Well, if you ask me, anybody who fails this tests is a dumb-ass anyway. I mean, nothing in life is free, know what I mean, Vern? Any offer of that nature should be suspect, especially to someone who's dishonest by nature. So, if someone fails that test, not only is he cheating, but he's dumb as mud too.

Anyway, I have to get to the class I skipped Monday. Parking at the school is a fucking zoo. I hate the beginnings of fall semesters. Oh, and, even though I've been going to school for 2-1/2 years, I'm not familiar with the building this one class is in. :-( I'll be late unless I skip washing my hair. When I get back, I'm so going back to bed.

Tuesday, August 23, 2005

Aw fuck, I just realized that I left my floppy in the computer lab again.

Made a last-minute dash to the store before they close at midnight for some emergency ice cream. Can you believe this -- I've got a cold. School starts (and I actually went today) and I've got a freakin' cold. So I'm feeling sorry for myself. The ice cream is good for my sore throat.

Bought Haagen-Dazs Light mint chip. I ordinarily stay away from "lite" products. My verdict: good taste but dry, crumbly texture. So, I'll finish this but I won't buy it again. Gotta have that butterfat, the cream! They didn't have crème brulee. :-(

Crashed a class I wanted and dropped ceramics -- good.

I just feel like staying in bed and sleeping all day; I feel kinda crappy. I don't want to go to school at all. I don't know what it is about me missing the first day or two of school, but I tend to do that. Why don't I want to go to school? After all, it beats the hell out of a dead-end job. I want a degree, dammit. Without one, a person doesn't get any respect in the workplace, nor in the personal life. I mean, I want to be with an educated man; that means I must be educated myself.

I'm feeling down overall. This place gets me down. This is the worst I've ever let my place get, ever, in my life, and I've always been a slob. I don't know how to clean it up. I need a strategy. When I was working and I had a one-bedroom apartment, I thought it was messy then, but it didn't approach what I have now. I didn't have as much stuff, for one thing. I didn't get back into doll collecting/customizing until after I started school. Now I've got a houseful of dolls, paraphernalia, boxes and packing materials. Maybe that's why I need to be rich, so that I can have someone clean up after me. That's pretty sad.

Someone commissioned me to do a doll for them because they lost an auction for one they wanted. That's my first commission, and also my first "duplication." It's kind of exciting, but I don't want to be in the position to do commissions often, which sounds ungrateful, but once they become obligations the fun goes out of them.

In an effort to kick my coke habit, uh, I mean, my Coke habit, I've started drinking grape Gatorade "Fierce" (what the fuck does that mean?). I bought the powder mix and the company forgot to add the red dye so it's blue, which amuses me. Anyway, I figure, some electrolytes couldn't hurt.

Better get ready for school. I'm gonna try to crash a class because I signed up for ceramics and I decided that I don't want to take that until the summer semester -- it's too intrusive for a regular semester. And besides, there's a sense of dread about approaching ceramics because that's one of the classes I blew off when I was seeing the toad. My instructor is no longer there, I think he got his master's and graduated, but the department is small and, well, you know.

I need to talk to an English advisor regarding dropping English to a minor and then I'd take up German as a second minor. Art would be my major. I tried to fight it, really! but art is the only thing I want to do. Something creative, something artistic -- what a predicament that is! I think life would have been easier if I'd only loved accounting, say, or law. But if I'm going to put in 50 - 60 hours a week (which I don't believe in, by the way), it has to be something I enjoy.

Monday, August 22, 2005

Courtesty of John, and not the same John who has a two-year-old, but my buddy who inherently understands me and I trust enough to tell him my deepest, darkest secrets, is this article: my answer would be a resounding Yes. And hell, this does so remind me of that movie The Downfall, about Hitler in his last days and how his mind was gone. Except that we're not so lucky to have Dubya in his last days. Freak.

Didn't get to post on my blog last night because the lab closed early and I got kicked out.

So, I made the effort to drive to campus last night to use a computer but this morning when it was time to go to class, I didn't go. I don't know what to make of myself sometimes.

So, I tried my hand at sewing yesterday. I had a pattern for a simple A-line minidress for Velvet, just like the one she came in. I'm thinking, that should be easy. Well, it was a very simple pattern but there was nothing simple about it. My dress looked like such crap when I was done and I was frustrated and pissed off to the point of spitting nails. I've totally lost interested in sewing, and I'd bought some really nice, bright fabrics, too. I went to Amazon and canceled my order of two books on sewing. I'm sure it's like anything else, one needs lots of practice. But I really hate sewing. I knew I hated sewing by hand, which I'd learned (somewhat) as a teen in 4-H and home ec (which was a freshman class I took as a senior for an easy A). Now I've got my SIL's hand-me-down BabyLock Companion sewing machine so I thought I might like sewing. Not. I enjoy knitting, dislike sewing. Go figure. God, those fabrics I bought are really fucking cool, too.

And what am I supposed to do with all those damn threads??

Well, maybe I need to cool off and give it a try another day. I really would love to sew my own doll clothes (from existing patterns, I'm not a designer).

Note: If the images are too big and mess you up, let me know and I'll adjust them.

Saturday, August 20, 2005

Just got through tinkering with the cats' electric waterer. Its submersible air pump is similar to those found in fish tank filters, and they're always a freakin' pain, very temperamental. Note to self: if it's running, don't fuck with it.

Was over at Beth's yesterday and she let me use her computer since the campus network was down. She always gives me so much stuff, I swear. Her house is jam-packed with projects and ideas for projects but she seldom follows through. Her health is an issue and I think she also suffers from depression. She can be a bit manic. She showed me some ball-jointed dolls she bought recently, little minis. They're about five inches tall or less, so tiny, and the attention to detail is amazing. The facial sculpt and paint is just phenominal, very delicate. Makes me want one, but they're over $200 apiece. Two hundred bucks for a doll that's the size of Kelly? Holy crap. It's bad enough I want a U-noa Quluts Sist, one of the hardest dolls to get your hands on because the guy only makes a few a year.

On a somewhat humerous note, Beth let me borrow a bunch of magazines and books, which we put in a stack on her desk. So when I left I took the stack with me. Turns out, her laptop was beneath the stack of mags and I grabbed that along with everything else! I called Beth to tell her immediately upon discovering the truth and apologized for stealing her computer. Geesh.

Friday, August 19, 2005

Was reading some more in the family history book put together by my dad's aunt, a geneology buff. I guess she took up that activity after she retired. Funnily, it gave me peaceful, quiet, unremarkable dreams, unlike the normal turbulent ones (a result of my meds). While it was interesting reading, that was her hobby, not mine. An interesting little tidbit: I was reminded that my dad was married briefly before he married my mom, a girl from Denmark. They had a son together and then she went back home. I wouldn't mind meeting her. Quite honestly, I'm far more interested in the geneology on the European side of my family. My Oma alone led a fascinating life. Maybe one day, when my German is better, I'll explore that. My American relatives consist largely of trailer trash, nothing I'd care to associate with. I mean, god, you should see some of those photos; I've actually got kin named "Bubba." *shudder*

I haven't figured out exactly where my path will lead me, but I truly want to settle either in NYC or else in Europe somewhere. Seriously. The way things are going, I don't feel this country is mine.

Wednesday, August 17, 2005

Yesterday and today I worked on rerooting one of my Velvet dolls. I started out with my favorite one, which might have been a mistake. The replacement hair that was recommended to me is not to my liking; it's coarse and has the texture and body of broom straw. Furthermore, just from handling it the little bit I have, I noticed some split ends! This defeats the purpose of replacing her ratty hair in the first place! Rerooting is a lot of tedious work and so I'm feeling down. Crap.

I'd signed up for ceramics this semester but on second thought, I'd rather take that during the summer. During the regular semester, it's too much of a drain and too time-consuming.

Don't remember if I've already said this, but I've been wondering if I should drop English to a minor and stick to art as a major. That way, I could have German as another minor. Gahhh, decisions, decisions. I'd have to change the art major to focus on ceramics instead of painting as it currently stands. It's just that, I can see myself teaching art, but not English. Does that make sense? If I want to be a writer, I don't necessarily have to major in English.

The VA is giving me some shit regarding my vocational rehab. I'm in danger of being kicked out because I fucked up so bad while dating Eduard. While conforming to his stay-up-all-night-and-sleep-all-day schedule, I missed most of my morning classes and only through the grace of the professor did I receive a W instead of an F. I was trying to explain this to my rep (who's been out on maternity leave all these months) but I made the mistake of mentioning that I was drinking during this period and now she wants me to go to fucking rehab or something. Jesus. I'm already seeing a shrink, what the hell do you want?!

GodDAMN was I a fucking idiot in regards to Eduard. When I think of him now, he reminds me of a toad.

Tuesday, August 16, 2005

Remember me telling you about John and how he wanted to send me pictures of his kid? Well, I replied and haven't heard from him since. That's so typical of John; next I'll receive an email saying, "Hey, what's up? Haven't heard from ya!" Or else his wife gave him grief for contacting me, "What do you need to write her for?" He assumed I was on a distribution list for baby pictures, presumably his wife's job, and of course I wasn't (not that I care). I found her to be very shallow: concerned with surface appearances and materialistic. I remember that grating manner of speech she affected; not sure if I can describe it, kinda that phony, distancing SoCal hauteur adopted by H.R. personnel. Like they're trying to incite cozy intimacy and pass judgment at the same time. So, whatever. Whether or not I hear back from John is entirely up to him.

Nkmjrt5bhn
Nkmjrt5bhnwpl04e;b b9o
Ll;;;;;...............ujhh

That note was brought to you by Missy, the poet. "Ujhh." I'm gonna have to use that.

Came back from a visit to the folks. Glad to be away from that nasty cigarette smoke. My mom's okay mostly but she gets on my nerves first thing in the morning, yakking and yakking before I've had breakfast or my coffee. Plus in the evening when the news is on, she's such a staunch Republican and supporter of Dubya, it makes me sick. She knows I don't agree so I wish she'd shut the fuck up in my presence.

It was really good to see my pups. Andy is so devoted to me, I swear. He slept with me every night and wouldn't go walking without me, afraid I'd be gone when he returned. We did that trick on the dogs once, having someone walk the dogs while I departed, and that was clearly a mistake. Now they're there so they can see me leave, but Andy throws such a fit when I take off without him. Ugh, it's really hard. Mom said he waited by the window all day long, keeping a lookout for me. Poor sweetie.

Wednesday, August 10, 2005

Had to delete a couple of dickhead spams in my comments.

Yeah, insomniac that I yam, I drove to the campus at two in the morning to use the computer. I've got some items up on eBay but they're not selling. So much for the project I had such high hopes for. It's discouraging. I'm discouraged. I slept all day, which might account for why I can't sleep tonight. At least I got enough money to gas up my car.

Other than painting these dumb-ass dolls, I don't know what I can do for money, short of selling my body. But they couldn't afford me anyway.

Guess I'll go home and have some warm milk.

Heard from an old friend, John. We met in 1989, on the first job I had when I got out of the corps. He was a marine reservist so we'd yack about that. He and his wife used to go out with my then boyfriend and me. His wife had cancer and died, which was really sad. A few years later, I hooked up with my now ex-husband and John remarried. It's a shame, but I never cared for that person he married; she was always a dick to me. I attributed it to snobbishness based on the fact that I was far beneath them socio-economically and plus didn't have a college edumacation. I never told John how I felt because I felt it wasn't my place, so eventually we stopped communicating. Then the other day he sends me a note and wants to email me pictures of his toddler son. You know, I like John and I miss him as a friend, but I don't want to see pics of his kid. I'm just not a kid person. Ya got any dogs or cats? Dolls? Bring on the pics. Kids, bah.

Sometimes I wonder if my antidepressants are working because I feel so blah.

Sunday, August 07, 2005

Been dollying all day so far, which hasn't been long because I got up around noon. But I was up until 2:00 a.m. last night and I couldn't get to sleep for another hour. Painting jazzes me up, and I've got a project I'm very excited about. *Fingers crossed*

Saturday, August 06, 2005

I was in the "business office" in the leasing office using the computer when some yokels banged on the back door and told me to let them in. I told them to go around to the front. What am I, the doorman? One member of the party, a girl, went around front and then walked to the back door and let the others in. As they walked by, they said, "you suck!" to which I replied, "fuck you." I mean, gawd. Where did those punks obtain such a sense of entitlement? And how hard was it for them all to walk around to the front, which is not a long walk, I assure you. Sometimes I really hate people. And the exchange got my adrenalin going and I wish it would just go away.

Anyway, Sandy, thank you very much for your sweet comment on my blog! Wow, "brilliance"; I don't think that word has ever been applied to me. :-) And Meow, I guess we'll have to agree to disagree on the subject of forgiveness. I don't forgive my father, for example, for molesting me: although he suffered a shitty upbringing himself, he still knowingly made his decisions. However, I don't let him have free rent in my thoughts anymore, and I've found peace of mind in getting past the mourning for the childhood and parents I should have had.

I sure don't forgive the local radio stations for playing crappy music and having such a limited playlist; Las Vegas radio, while owned by the same corporation, was miles better. The locals are just plain lazy.

I need some food, bad.

9:20 PM

There's a huge trash can by the mailboxes where everyone tosses their copious junk mail, and I saw an Ikea catalog that someone had thrown away. So I retrieved it -- I mean, it was just paper waste. There's a bed in there that's like the top bunk of a bunk bed but without the bottom bunk. It's called a "loft bed frame." So, with the bed elevated, there's a bunch more space in the room. I'm intrigued! I mean, this apartment has nine-foot ceilings, so why not use that space? And I've always liked sleeping on the top bunk anyway. It would open up the floor and almost amount to another room. Plus if I ever move to Manhattan and get a studio apartment, I'll already be prepared. Only con is, my pets wouldn't be able to sleep with me. I'd have to buy a cat tree and put it next to the bed so they could climb up.

*Sigh* So many things and so little money.

Newman's tail fascinates me. I've never had cats before, and he's the only one of the three with a normal tail; the other two's are kinked and short. Newman's tail is very long and elegant and I'm amazed at how flexible it is. It's almost prehensile and much more expressive than a dog's tail.

Missy is such a troublemaker, true to her name ("Alright now, little missy!") If I'm not careful she'll throw herself off my balcony or jump onto my hot stove elements. Gah. She likes to climb into open cabinets but she usually can't get down. She's so crazy.
I despise Avril Lavigne, Laverne, Lasagna, whatever the hell her name is.

Friday, August 05, 2005

I'm gonna be painting like a motherfucker these next coupla days. Pausing right now for a snack.

There's a doll convention in London this October! I want to go! I'm sure that if I book early enough, I could get a cheap flight. I've got some questions about the convention fees, because they have two listed. Do you pay one or both? I'd also have to find a roommate for the hotel. With a roommate, the rooms would be about $60 - $70 a night, which is cheap for London -- and it includes a continental breakfast, a far cry from what I got in Vegas.

Thursday, August 04, 2005

Got an eviction notice from the office for late rent payment. I went to speak to them and they're giving me some extra time, so I have some wiggle room. That's good, because I can work under pressure but I can't work in panic mode. I can actually do something instead of sitting there wringing my hands. So, I've concluded that the apartment management isn't quite so bad, after all.

I'd been meaning to look for this quote for quite a while:

Oprah on forgiveness: "The best definition of forgiveness I ever heard is giving up the hope that the past could be any different. I love that definition, because it doesn't mean that you then have to accept the person back into your life. Forgiveness does not mean I now want to have you over for dinner. It doesn't mean I want to associate with you. It just means I will no longer be tied to the past."

Fuck fuck fuckity fuck fuck fuck. If it wasn't bad enough that my doll didn't sell for as much as I was hoping, the stupit buyer wants to pay with a money order, when it states specifically that I only accept PayPal. I got talked into accepting a money order last time but I swore I wouldn't do it again. I *swear*. {foaming at the mouth, sides heaving}

I got catheterized this morning during a "urodynamic" exam, so *don't* fuck with me! :^E

Wednesday, August 03, 2005

The cats were so glad to see me when I got back yesterday morning! I've never heard so much purring. I arrived at my apartment at about 7:00 after landing at about 4:00, waiting for my luggage and driving the hour or so back. Beth offered to let me crash at her place, but I wanted to beat the morning rush-hour traffic. I got caught in some around the downtown area, but it wasn't too bad. I'd had maybe two hours' sleep in a twenty-five hour period, so when I got home I cratered. Slept for about twelve hours, was up for about five, and then went back to bed and slept for another eight.

Las Vegas is alright! Bright, brash, kitschy, and joyously tasteless -- I love it! I'm not a gambler, dolls being my addiction, although I did play a couple of dollars' worth of slots (didn't win). I didn't eat very much there since everything was SO expensive. Things obviously changed since the days you could eat there cheap. There were a couple of meals included in the convention and otherwise I ate at McDonald's, conveniently located just outside the casino. We stayed at the casino where the convention was held, the Stardust. It was okay, a bit pricey. The convention rate was $60 but the weekends were $90. I was disappointed that the rooms didn't contain a coffeemaker or a little fridge. :-(

As far as the convention went, well, it was "okay." It was nice to see all the dolly people I'd heard about and corresponded with over the past couple of years, and it was terrific to see some prototypes of upcoming collections in person. The R&D guys were really wonderful, so nice and personable, and I love their Susie collection. Additionally, they've got an upcoming 16" ball-jointed-doll with a sweet facial sculpt that I hope to get my hands on. The DAE fellas were great, too. In fact, I won a DAE Vivette gift set, which I didn't think I'd care for but I spent hours playing with her last night! Three wigs, three outfits, all beautifully and impeccably made. There were a bunch of freebies and raffles at the convention but I didn't win anything until the last night, the aforementioned gift set and a "showgirl" table doll. I don't do showgirls, sorry. It's not my thing. So, I gave mine to Beth. I was like, "here." The people at my table received "absinthe fairy" dolls done by the table host, who was another wonderful person. While fairies aren't my thing either, I love this little gal and was so pleased to have her. Another really nice thing about the convention is that lots of people saw my repaints in person and I received many positive comments! Although nobody bought anything of mine from the sales table, I still feel that the exposure was good for me.

Lots of people were saying that if the convention is held in Vegas next year, they won't go, and I concur. There were too many distractions and people spent all their money in the casinos instead of the sales room. :-)

Saw a couple of old friends who've moved to Vegas: Shannon and Peggy. Shannon and I hit it off when I visited her in Philly a couple of years ago, but she'd since obtained a new life and discarded her old friends. Kinda pissed me off. Even so, I dropped her a line before leaving and she agreed to get together. She didn't follow through afterward, though; I did. So we met for a couple of hours on Sunday and she fed me a nice wrap for lunch, but she made no effort to hide that she was just going through the motions. In fact, she was making phone calls and receiving messages in my presence (couldn't she wait a couple of hours?), and even stated to one of her friends within my earshot I would be leaving shortly. Nice. In truth, I had much more fun visiting with her dogs than with her, and they were much sweeter to me too. I think they remembered me. Looks like I'll never see them again, which is too bad. But fuck Shannon.

Fortunately, visiting with Peggy and her husband Walt was SO much fun! It's hard to believe that the last time we saw each other in person was five and a half years ago. It didn't feel like that at all. And they were so kind to feed me because by that time I'd run out of money. Peggy and I spent several hours at Caesar's Palace on Monday and I took a bunch of pictures. Went to FAO Schwartz -- woooo! Couldn't buy shit but was able to scope out in person what I'd like so I can order it later. Walt and I always get to giggling together. All three of us are so puerile, imitating Beavis and Butthead and South Park. Awesome people, I'll have to make sure to visit more often.

So, despite the fact that I had to spend my first night away from home in the airport terminal (a story not worth getting into), and that the last three nights I got nearly no sleep, the trip was well worth it. I've got to pay Peggy, Beth and Anne back for all their help.

Dusty Newspaper Clippings and other mental disorder