Wednesday, June 28, 2006, 2:47 PM
Awright, went to the California Pizza Kitchen after my shrink appointment at the VA Hospital, which is not the same as the Vet Center, by the way. So hungry. CPK’s white pizza is very good. There’s no internet here but I’ve got Werrrd up so that (word up) I don’t have to look at the two lovebirds in the next booth who are sitting side-by-side instead of opposite each other. I don’t know about you, but I find it easier to converse with someone across the table from me. But whatever. Right now I’m conversing with my Notebook, so there you go.
I’ve had a zit on my left cheek for going on two weeks now. One of those especially nasty and tenacious buggers that won’t go away, and by now it’s turned an attractive shade of aubergine, right there smack dab on the center of my cheek. It may as well have arrows and flashing neon signs pointing to it saying BIG ZIT. So, today I wore some makeup, which I seldom do anymore. The makeup wasn’t terribly effective in hiding the zit, but as an experiment I applied dark eyeshadow around my eyes instead of eye liner, the result of which makes me look fairly ghoulish and thereby detracts from said zit. Oh well, I can always let my hair hang in my face and hide it that way. Ghouls’ hair hangs in their faces, right?
Pizza’s here, schnum num num!
It’s too hot to eat right now. I want to leave my Notebook open to act as a shield, but I don’t want to wear down my battery. Would I look too much like a dick if I put the computer to sleep and kept the black screen up?
3:29 PM
Pizza’s gone and the lovebirds have left. Gawd, looking at them, I’m SO glad I’m not in my 20’s anymore! How small your universe is when you’re the center of it.
The soundtrack in here is pretty good. “Only Cab on the Road” by Train (don’t like anything else of theirs), and now the Gin Blossoms, “Until I’m Far Away,” which is one I don’t have a copy of. The Gin Blossoms bring to mind a really good period in music, up to the mid-90’s. After about '95 or '96, everything went to hell in a handbasket. Isn’t it weird how that happens? A similar slump took place in the late '70’s to the early '80’s.
I could have sworn the waiter was laughing at my zit, but surely I’m being paranoid.
Wednesday, June 28, 2006, 2:02 AM
I’ve got nice welts on my back from Missy springing onto me and digging her claws in. I swear. Newman and Peep figured it out already, no claws on humans. That hurt, and imagine if I didn’t trim Missy’s nails! Missy wants love so much, she tries too hard sometimes.
Tonight I saw Superman Returns on, what’s that called? Special engagement or something. Enjoyed it very much! The lead actor was a very fine choice and did great. And gawd he’s handsome. Christopher Reeve will always be Superman in my mind since that movie emerged in my formative years, but this guy, Routh? --is good too. Only complaint would probably be that they could have cut a good ten or fifteen minutes out of the denouement, as it dragged a bit. Also, they laid it on somewhat thick with the Jesus allegories. Still, though, a worthwhile film. I liked James Marsden’s character, Lois Lane’s fiancee and therefore Superman’s “rival.” He was written as a decent, caring guy and not some stereotypical jerkoff as one might expect in a movie.
Also liked the "bring it on!" line given to Lex Luthor.
Some little punk-ass high school brats were sitting behind me, proving to each other how cool and clever they were by making commentaries during all the quiet scenes. I turned around in my seat and said, and I quote, “Shut the hell up.” And they did, mostly. I’m such a bad ass. Not. If they were Hispanic or black I most likely wouldn’t have said anything, but as it happened they were runty peckerwoods. I could take ‘em. Yeah.
But why did I have to say something? Huh? Why didn’t anyone else pipe up?!
I really hate motherfuckers who ruin my moviegoing experience.
Next on the list: The Devil Wears Prada. I can’t imagine teenage boys wanting to see that.
Over the Fourth I’m visiting my folks. Don’t really want to. :-
9:20 a.m.
Phoned the mom-unit and begged off.
Audio books are da bomb. I love listening to a book while I'm knitting; that way, I can do two of my favorite pastimes at once. But the cost of audiobooks, oy vey. I can't really justify the purchase. I mean, it's kind of disposable, don't you think? It's not like I'm going to listen to it over and over.
Here's something that I find kind of amusing. The doll stands for Tyler Wentworth et al. They blow. The metal rod is never the right height so the saddle part never reaches up far enough to support the doll's body. Or in other cases, the rod's too long so the doll's toes dangle a few millimeters up from the stand's base. No one can figure out why, WHY, the Tonner Company can't make a decent doll stand. Fashion Royalty stands are wonderful! No toppling dollies there. Well, not long ago Tonner came up with stands that actually worked. The metal rod was telescoping and there was a new rubber gasket where the rod met the stand for stability. But get this: there was a hole drilled in the crotch of the dolls and the "user" had to jam the rod up in there. There was an outcry in the dolly community! The new devices were dubbed "hoo-hoo stands." [Oh, and Regina Wentworth was nicknamed "Vagina" Wentworth.] Me, I admit that those new stands were aesthetically awkward (felt somewhat gynecological), but at least they worked. Now, in response to the collectors, Tonner went back to the stands that suck. *sigh*
I'll have an order of this to go:
Thanks, V., for directing me to this nice bit of eye candy, originally posted at The Sartorialist. This is the kind of physique I like best, fit and ropey but not overbuilt. No thick neck here!
And in other news, what do you think of the upcoming Superman movie? I was impressed by Kate Bosworth's acting in that show "Young Americans" in 2000. I was totally addicted to that show was was disappointed that it wasn't picked up, even though I wasn't included in its target demographic. It was far more compelling than the usual dreck (like Dawson's Shit Creek). So, I can see Bosworth doing Lois Lane well. And Keven Spacey's going to be a terrific Lex Luthor.
But the lead. Hm. I've only seen the trailers, mind, but he doesn't strike me as much. Too bland and of limited range. I hope I'm wrong. But why didn't they cast Bosworth's old costar Ian Somerhalder? Now *he* would have made a good Superman! *drooool* I know I have an indecent penchant for younger men, but permit me to say, I want him.
I'm sickened to read today that the International Whaling Commmission had a vote to lift its ban on commercial whaling. Is this another sign of the approaching apocalypse? I hate what's happening to the planet and to animals--maybe the apocalypse will come soon enough to save them.
Friday, June 16, 2006, 11:27 AM
I have to get ready to head for Anne’s. Was late getting up, despite my alarm clock. Ran outta coffee today, ugh.
Ironically, I received an email from that reprehensible doll dealer, “look what’s newly arrived!” NOT. I replied, telling them to take me off their mailing list. I don’t care if they get a gold-plated exclusive doll, I’m never dealing with them again. Fuckheads.
Saturday, June 17, 2006, 1:36 PM
Man, I’m so droopy today. Anne says it might be the low pressure system we’ve got right now. Maybe I’ll sleep all day. Cool.
Sunday, June 18, 2006, 12:35 AM
Finished listening to the audiobook of Robinson Crusoe. If I’d had to read it, I doubt I would have gotten through. He sure went on and on, in laborious detail, then at the end, he didn’t even say what happened to Friday. And speaking of Friday, how Crusoe obtained him to be a servant and had him address Crusoe as “Master.” Christ. Distasteful in a lot of ways by our standards. Showed the lack of regard for the environment and its resources and the inherent English belief that they reigned supreme. And all the Christian bits too. Fortunately I can tune a lot of that out.
I've got the rare connection, and it's a strong signal too. I'm speaking literally, not metaphorically. So now I'm afraid to get off the computer for fear of losing that connection. Compulsive? Obsessive? Insane? Hmm.
Oh, as further evidence that I'm in a state of arrested development, I've been brushing my teeth with Spongebob Squarepants toothpaste. What. It tastes good, like fruity bubblegum. Man, they didn't have that fun stuff when I was a kid! All we had in my house was plain ol' Colgate (in a metal tube and my dad would get mad when I squeezed it in the middle). As a teen I used Gleem. Do they even make that anymore? I'll bet it was as abrasive as hell.
V., I finally downloaded Firefox and I love it! Thanks for the recommendation.
Alexa has a post about stealing toilet paper. I've done it. I always put off buying toilet paper and put it off. I used to steal t.p. from work. Not taking the roll off the dispenser (which is locked and I don't know how to work it), but swiping leftover standing rolls which usually still had 1/2 to 1/4-inch on them. Yep yep yep.
Thursday, June 15, 2006, 12:20 PM
Okay, can somebody answer me this question: how, on a notebook keyboard, can someone get to the very top or the very bottom of a document? I know on a regular keyboard it’s shift page up, or shift page down. *sigh* That’s my only complaint about this lil’ computer, and admittedly it’s a small one, a matter of re-learning the keys.
Last night I saw Water at one of the few theaters that show indie/foreign flicks. I hadn’t been to this particular theater in probably five years and I’d always been driven there by my former friend (she was the one who was so dominating and derisive that I had to cut her loose). Anyway, it’s located in a tricky place, hard to get to from the freeway, so yeah, I got lost. I imposed upon some security people who very kindly helped me out. Back to the movie, at the end I wasn’t so sure I was glad to have seen it. The print was crappy quality, which is irritating. I guess it was a bit depressing. I don’t know. I was the only one in the theater, which was very creepy.
Received Midas Touch Jac from a wonderful doll dealer, not the aforementioned one, whose issue is still unresolved, by the way. I always get that song in my head, the one from the 80’s, “Midas Touch” by Midnight Star. I’ve got it on MP3. Okay, I’m playing it now. Corny be-bop song, I know, but I used to dance like crazy back then. When I dance I’m truly happy, but I don’t do it now because I’m so out of shape that I can’t keep it up for long. Anyway, I wanted that Midas Touch Jac so I could keep her outfit and repaint and sell the doll. *Need money, need money, need money.* What else is new.
Know what I hate? Those character strings you have to type in order to send an email. I have no problem doing it and am pleased at any attempt to prevent spam, but make the characters legible, please! What’s the point if I can’t read them?
Something else that irritates me is when legitimate email gets shuffled to the bulk folder. I have to check it prior to emptying it, and thank gawd I did today, because I got an important reply from the doll company regarding the aforementioned issue. Jeez. The company seems to have come through, but I remain deeply dissatisfied with the lack of customer service from the retailer and will post my story publicly for everyone to read.
The adult son of a friend of mine is getting married to a woman who is really beneath him. Ugh. I feel sorry for my friend, because there’s nothing you can do in that case; any words to the negative will only spur conflict. It’s my impression that the son, who’s a bit shy and nerdy, was ensnared. The woman is considerably older, has three young kids, and a psychotic ex who stalks her. I’ve encountered her once and she didn’t leave much of an impression: her personality is nil, she’s skinny and attractive in an overplucked kind of way. Probably that guy’s first piece of ass. I hope I’m wrong. But I don’t think so. You just have to shake your head, y’know?
Had group today. The lady said she tried to phone me last week but it said the number was disconnected. Now I've got two reasons to ream Cingular -- they *still* haven't returned that money from the gottdamn aircard that didn't fit my notebook.And as if that weren't enough, the fuckhead at the dollstore stubbornly refuses to exchange my doll for a new one. We've exchanged emails back and forth. It pisses me off so, that I feel like getting rid of all my fucking dolls.
On a positive note, I have 84 college hours. After the upcoming fall semester I will be a senior! Wooo! But okay, lemme figure this out ...
- A maximum of 66 hours may be transferred from a community college, and
- Last 30 semester hours must be completed in residence at the university.
Okay. I've got 32 transfer hours, and 52 university hours. So, I'm still within the timeframe, but it's got to be sooner, not later.
Oh, and check this out: my freakin' freaky-ass creative writing teacher gave me an A-. Huh.
Huh. Guess what, apparently my ascendant sign is Capricorn. Scorpio with Capricorn rising. Okay.
I *lost* a doll that I sold and was supposed to have mailed by now. I can't find it! What am I going to do? If I don't find it pronto, I'll have to refund that person's money and apologize profusely. How the hell can I lose a doll?! It's in its box and shipper with the address already written on it. Christ.
Piggybacking while the piggybacking's good.
I'm getting pissed off here. I bought a doll online, right, because there are no doll stores in the area. So I get the doll and at first I'm pleased, until I take a closer look. There were a plethora of problems. And believe me, I'm not one of those uber fussy collectors. So I write the doll company, who says, not my problem, contact the retailer. So I write the retailer who replies, not my problem, contact the doll company. Why do I have to go through so much gottdamn trouble for a stupid doll?!
On the positive side, I'm selling a different doll and it looks like I'll get a little more than I paid for it, which is nice.
I've been thinking about where I want to go after I'm done with school. I think I might head back to the west coast. Not sure that the east coast is what I want. Hell, I have no idea what I want. But the west coast holds some familiarity at least. I've never lived in L.A., maybe I could give that a try. Get an apartment in the city and fuck trying to commute. L.A. is a city I could get lost in, and apparently the crime rate is less than where I live now. Or maybe Portland, Oregon. I like rain, I like winter, and I like trees and mountains.
Wednesday, May 24, 2006, 11:34 PM
Finished The Grapes of Wrath as well as a doll skirt I was knitting on. Nice, quasi-positive ending to the story. Doesn’t tell you what ultimately happens to the Joads, but you get the feeling that with a strong woman like Ma to look out for them, they’ll be alright. I got the feeling that first Casey, and then Tom, were Jesus figures. As for Casey’s theology, what he describes is about what my feelings are on the subject. And I thought I thunk it up all by myself.
When Tom killed that sonofabitch who clouted Casey in the head, I was glad! Dylan Baker was the narrator and I thought he did an excellent job throughout.
I’m gonna have to do research on John Steinbeck and find out what kind of research he did for the book. He had to have traveled with some migrant families; everything sounds so real and immediate. A shameful part of American history, one of many. I guess things got better after Roosevelt took office and implemented all those public works programs, and then of course WWII provided plenty of jobs.
Roosevelt invested a lot of borrowed money into the country by putting all those men to work. Now our government’s got a deficit and the only citizens who benefit are the ones who are already rich. Muth – er – fucker.
On a completely different subject, L.L. Bean’s got what they call “boyfriend jeans,” which “are enzyme-washed, sandblasted, then deliberately nicked and frayed for a worn-in, weathered look.” They’re fifty bucks. I’d rather wear my jeans out by myself, thank you very much. I noticed that if you buy jeans that are pre-faded, they fall to pieces in a relatively short time, while jeans bought new last almost forever. I’m boring, I don’t wear trendy jeans. I think now the skinny, drain-pipe jeans are in vogue. Oh gawd. A coupla years ago it was the crotch-dusting bell-bottoms, now it’s the opposite extreme. I’m gonna order me another pair of those men’s cargo pants in a different color, the shorts version of same, and a sunwashed tee. I love buying stuff, it gives me a rush. I’m truly an addict.
Ugh. I’ve got an excess amount of stuff and people like the Joads had nothing. Makes me take a second look around me. If Mrs. Joad were here, she’d have this place ship-shape in no time, and she’d give me a good scolding besides.
Sunday, May 28, 2006, 8:06 PM
At the folks’ house for the weekend. I don’t know what the hell crawled up my mom’s ass. She hates herself and thus spreads her poison throughout the household. She’s been getting on my nerves all day; I spent as much time as possible napping. She complains and complains but doesn’t do anything about her problems. She’s fat, her husband’s a dick. Big news. DO something about it, don’t bitch to me!
Wednesday, May 31, 2006, 3:07 PM
Have to get to the post office today to mail off a doll I sold and get the buyer off my ass. Also have to go to the campus and drop my 8:00 a.m. German class; I don’t know what I was thinking. Hopefully it’s not too late to enroll in another class, but not having school for another six weeks doesn’t sound like a bad deal either. I have a lit class for the second summer session starting in July. I really can’t imagine what else I’d want to take, especially given the slim pickin’s this summer.
Raining here, which is nice.
Tuesday, June 6, 2006, 12:39 AM
Watched Aliens, one of my all-time favorite movies. Had to view over a stretch of two nights because that intensity is just too much! I was so deeply disappointed in Aliens 3 because right at the start they killed off Newt and Hicks. Kinda makes the second movie moot, almost. Also, I didn’t buy that an alien stowed away on their getaway vessel. By itself, I think the third movie is alright, but I never really got over those points. Yes, I’m an Aliens geek—nothing else compares. Never saw the fourth one, don’t know if I will.
One of my favorite moviegoing memories is seeing Aliens for the first time in 1986 – on a Marine Corps base in Okinawa! The Colonial Marines in the movie were spot on, and really brought out a response from us, the audience. Top Apon was played by an actor who had been a marine in real life, which I only learned yesterday. So THAT’s why he was so realistic! “You secure that shit, Hudson!” I love love love Michael Biehn, or at least the characters he played in Terminator and Aliens. Hunky, tough, and yet sweet-alicious. Wish he’d come rescue me.
I like Alien too, but as it happened, I saw Aliens first. Alien came out in 1979 or so, and I wasn’t old enough to see R-rated movies. This was back in the day when R really meant something, not just some vacuous, obligatory muck. The swearing felt real, felt just like what I might say in such circumstances. Gawd forbid. Ugh. Anyway, the first time I saw Alien was in New Zealand with my ex and the video copy we rented was so bad that the whole thing was black most of the way through, so I couldn’t say that I enjoyed the movie until some time later when I finally saw a decent copy.
Suffering from yet another bladder infection, my last. I say that because I know what causes them and I’m staying away. It ain’t worth it. It’s just the mechanics, whether organic or not, and I threw away my expensive inorganic sources. Fuckit, guess I’ll just have to live without. It’s just biology, after all. I can overcome a few primitive impulses.
Friday, June 9, 2006, 1:50 AM
Thank gawd for antibiotics. And thank gawd that I don’t have to fend off the constant, insistent, whiney, and “entitled” overtures of some asshole, such as the one I married and the one I dated prior to that. It’s so nice to be free.
Tonight I saw the latest X-Men movie. Was never a follower of the comic book or anything, and I didn’t even see the first movie. Well anyway, I think I recall this installment getting some negative reviews, but shit, I thought it was great. Never once wondered what time it was, my criteria for an enjoyable movie. Note if you haven’t seen it yet: there’s a scene after the end credits, so don’t leave the theater. [Spoiler] Sorry to see Patrick Stewart go, as I’m a big fan of his. Nevertheless, there’s that hint that the series will continue. So, if anyone’s seen it, at the end when Magneto was a regular old man and he was at the park in front of the chess set, and he was trying to get one of the chess pieces to move telekinetically, was it my eyes or did it wobble? Someone tell me!
Read Stephen King’s Hearts of Atlantis. Good read, and a surprising source of insight as to what it must have been like in Vietnam. I don’t recall that he went himself, so he must have interviewed a lot of vets. He’s right about the Zippo lighters; at least my dad has one. I didn’t go to Vietnam, obviously, but my dad went twice. The first time I was almost too young to remember, but I have some fuzzy memories of living in California with his parents, and also spending time in Germany with Oma. Second time we were living in Amarillo, Texas, and I hardly remember that either. Just some subsurface sense of unease when he returned, because everything was better when he wasn’t there—there were no ugly nighttime secrets, Mom wasn’t such a fucking bitch. He was a chopper pilot and rescued bush-whacked soldiers, which was especially dangerous from what I gather. How many times I’ve wondered what my life might have been like if he didn’t come back.
He maniuplated me when I was a kid, telling me that if I didn’t do what he wanted when he came into my room at night that he would die, which struck terror in my heart. However, not many years later during another nighttime visit, I told him viciously that I didn’t care if he died, that I hoped he would. He acted so incredibly hurt and betrayed by this – can you see that this person completely lacks empathy for anyone else? He’s a fucking psycho.
But I digress. Apparently he went the second time because his half-brother got drafted and his step-mom called hysterically to see if my dad could do something. So, citing that rule about only one son in the family going to war, my dad went in his half-brother’s stead. Lot of good it did, the guy blew his brains out when he was in his 30’s or so. I don’t have any fond memories of this uncle of mine. Last time I saw him, I was very little and he was a teenager, and he used to tease me mercilessly, until I was in tears. Nobody intervened because they thought it was funny. There’s even pictures. Goddamn I hate my family, the American side at least. That’s why when I divorced, I kept the name of the shithead I married, who was a lesser shithead than the one who spawned me.
Well I’m wandering all over the place, aren’t I. I’ve got cramps and am using the laptop as a hot-water bottle.
I’ve been sent to the vet center, someplace for vets to go for psychiatric help or whatever, on account of sexual trauma I experienced while serving (just some procedural bullshit for the voc rehab office). The lady who’s been interviewing me is a sociologist and not a psychologist, which I find refreshing, since I think psychology only goes so far, at least for me. Other people and the environment do have an effect on me, I don’t live in a bubble. I was told that I’m suffering from arrested development, whatever that is. I like to play with dolls? I don’t want to pay my bills? So what. I was put in a women’s group with other vets, but they’re younger than me and have been to Iraq, whereas I’ve never been in combat. Last Wednesday was supposed to be my first meeting and I rushed to get there on time, only to find a sign on the door reading that the meeting had been cancelled, which pissed me off. I would have appreciated a phone call, it’s not like I live right down the street from the place. Not to mention the price of gas.
Why did I bring up all that Vietnam shit in the first place? Oh yeah, because at the vet center we were talking about how Vietnam’s after-effects rippled, extending beyond those who actually went. I know it had a profound effect on my own life.
Saturday, June 10, 2006, 2:29 PM
I’m reading The Accidental Tourist by Anne Tyler and enjoying the hell out of it. I saw the movie in Carlsbad, California when it was released and found it to be dreary, which is all I remember about it. The character Susan says:
“You really think that you and me have any power? It’s just free speech, that’s all we’ve got. We can say whatever we like, then the government goes on and does exactly what it pleases. You call that democracy? It’s like we’re on a ship, headed someplace terrible, and somebody else is steering and the passengers can’t jump off.”
The character of Susan is fifteen. I don’t recally knowing anything about politics or the world until maybe my late twenties.
At another place in the book, “Macon didn’t want to sound prejudiced, but he couldn’t help feeling that people who had no children had never truly grown up.” I agree with him, if I’m any example. I know that children age the shit out of you.
