Lovertine - (adj.) - addicted to love-making

Birthdays, headaches, and miscellaneous tid bits.

2007-07-18T22:13:00.000-05:00

It has been a while since I have last written...partly because my internet is crappy and partly because I have not felt motivated to write much.

Between then and now, I had a birthday. It was actually one of the better I have had in a long time. Just about all my friends were available to help celebrate with food, alcohol and great conversation. To top it off, I got laid that night and woke to a leisurely day with a lover.

Eating at a new restaurant in town, my friends and I played some pool, drank some ale and laughed our way through the night...retiring to my porch for more of the same. I wore a nice little dress I bought, and I felt like a belle at a ball. It was really a great time. Of course, by the end of the night, I was ready to pass out, happily drunk, thoroughly buzzed with impassioned love making, and tingling from head to toe with that sort of happiness one feels when they realized they are loved.

Then back to work...

I know I have mentioned work before, but it is downright hellish sometimes. It just reaffirms that the human race needs to be wiped off the face of the earth (me included).

This past week, despite my best efforts, has left me feeling a bit detached and depressed. I think that the past few weeks of stress have finally gotten me down. My monthly visitor was late...very late, and I was stressing about that for a bit. And then about finances...whether I had enough money to pay the rent and eat at the same time...

But now, the stresses are different. Mum has not been well, and we got news yesterday that she needs a major surgical procedure...a long story, but still not the best news. And then the ex called...which freaked me out, and gave me nightmares last night. I'm not scared of the guy, just wary. The most important question being: what the fuck does he want? Grrrr. I'm not playing this game.

When he called, I thought it was my friend Terry...he sometimes calls from different phones. And I told my mother that was who I thought it was...and I was wrong. I did not want to alarm my mother, but flipping out on the phone...so I laughed and played along. It was painful. I would have really liked to tell the guy where to step off...and hang up.

He is the past. A memory. And that is where I want him to stay.

Wet love, top fives, and dreams

2007-06-06T23:22:00.018-05:00

Life can be truly amusing from time to time. Just a simple and general observation I have made today.

At any rate, last night the Sergeant came to visit. He's heading off somewhere doing his army thing, pretty hush-hush stuff, apparently. He can grow a beard because of this hush-hush stuff, and I could not help but admire his beard. It makes him look like a man...a real man. Granted, his beard is red versus the tawny hair on his head and dark hair on his body...goes to show he's truly of the Scotch-Irish Appalachian sort.

He watched a bit of Hannibal Rising, more talking than watching. And finally, the film was abandoned in lieu of some lovemaking. The Sergeant loves to shower with me for some strange reason, but I don't mind. He claims to love the water, and I believe him. It was in the shower last night that I got the 'fucking' of my life. I came within moments of passing out from the combination of the heat and the fact that all the blood in my brain had drained southward...and the fact that I was 'fucked' within inches of my life...did I mention that? It was brutal pounding, me clawing at the walls of the shower, blacking out from such intense orgasms, and eventually being held upright when I couldn't catch my breath and my pussy would not stop quivering and my knees shaking. I had not been fucked like that in god knows how long or if ever.

I know my neighbors were probably cringing, the bathroom being the only place in these apartments where sound carries. I know I was quite vocal, enthusiastically so, until I nearly passed out, of course. My hips are still sore from the Sergeant's hold on them, and the back of my head where he pulled my head back by the hair and suckled my throat. I have what looks like a rug-burn bruise on my chin and shoulder from some sort of oral attack on my person. And my knees and thighs have finger marks all over...bruised impressions of his hands.

Yum.

It was a whole evening ordeal, and by the time he came, it was dawn. I was wrought out completely, but we still had enough energy to talk a while, talk about our 'top fives' in life. I rank in his top five of all time greatest women. A compliment to be sure. I rank in a tie for the best lay...number two. I would be number one, except for the fact that the Sergeant and I have not really had the chance to rut anywhere else than my flat. He claimed that he has a fantasy of being caught, or nearly being caught...public acts. I admitted that I was not adverse to the idea, the truth being that if given the chance, I would have him anywhere.

I admitted that he was in my top three of all time best lovers, at least in the basest physical sense. We are not in a relationship, although I sense a bit of jealousy from him when I mention other lovers. But the Sergeant is the type of person who would collect lovers, make them exclusive only to him, just because he is that much of a control freak. He has his issues, and I have mine...but the point is that he is a fantastic lover.

We slept in late, he at my left, wrapped up in my thinnest blanket, I on the right, cocooned inside a flannel comforter. Occasionally, he would wrap a big arm about my waist and snore into my hair. *chuckle*

At one point, I know I kicked the hell out of him, because he woke up and in turn woke me. I apologized and muttered I had dreamt I was in a fist fight with my father. He chuckled, rolled over and went back to sleep. I don't think I hurt him.

When the alarm went off, we were slow to rise...searching for hastily stripped clothing, something to drink. I tease him about the fact that he is a big, hairy army machine, adding that I would not have him any other way. I do care for the guy, but not so much as to beat myself up over the fact that we are not together. We have a good time, talking and sleeping together. He kissed me when he left, a sweet little kiss that left me tingling.

At work today, which was quite slow, I could not help but remember how he pounded into me in the shower. The feeling of his large hands upon my hips and the way he kissed my back and shoulders. How he overpowered my body and mind and held me so easily. In his domination, I felt beautiful.

I'm exhausted now, and I work two eight hour shifts...ugh.

Sore feet, and other bits...and Sympathy for the Devil

2007-05-29T18:25:00.000-05:00

I have been rather naughty as of late, which goes to show that my emotional ups and downs usually end up with me doing something depraved...or lascivious.

Wednesday night, I met with a friend who I had not seen in over a year. He is a very handsome black man with his life in order, his Masters in Psych under his belt, a job, a car, and a great like for me. He stayed the night, and for once in a very long time, I made love to someone. It is nice to feel totally and utterly adored by someone, and that was how I felt with my friend. It was a nice evening of talking, touching, kissing and lovemaking. He slept next to me quietly, holding me close and randomly kissing my face or hair, running his fingers along my ribs and caressing an exposed breast. I really care for the man, he has been nothing less than wonderful and the lovemaking was exquisite, although new to me. I am sure with time we will find a new level of intimacy if our relationship continues.

The next night...another man in a totally different manner. It was raw, rough, wonderfully painful where I ached afterwards in the most fantastic way...the bed soaked with sweat and juices...and the comfortable, exhausted cuddling afterward. This is the Sergeant...familiar, funny, intense...a big hairy winning machine (says he). It had been a long time, and it will probably be another long period of time until it happens again. But I also care for the man, even though he can be a complete arse from time to time. He's great in bed, big body, hair and all. I love the sounds he makes when I clamp down on him. I also love watching his face, he has a very handsome face, and gorgeous eyes... I just love the way I know I can let loose with him...scream and scratch and bite like a madwoman. He takes it all.

Two different lovers, two different styles...both a welcome distraction from my more serious and morbid thoughts as of late. It is my life, my way, and it is nice to get back into action again after denying myself for a while... Frustrations vented...check.

Mourning a passing, celebrating a life.

2007-05-15T10:03:00.000-05:00

My grandmother passed away this morning after 81 years and 6 months of life. This past week has been marred with the anticipation that she would pass, but still when I got the word from my dad a few minutes ago, I broke down.

I have blogged several times about my grandmother, she has been integral to my life, my education, and various other aspects about myself. She has been my best friend, my confidante, my support and perhaps my most precious person.

For the past month, she had been more ill than I or anyone has ever known. My grandmother had several health problems working against her, let alone her age. Up until the past month she had been very active, living in her own house, doing her own errands, but had slowed down ever since my cousin passed away two years ago. My cousin and I were the closest to my grandmother and when my cousin passed it seemed like a fraction of my grandmother's soul was ripped away. She had not been well since.

My grandmother had been in extreme pain due to an aneurysm in an artery running from her heart, putting pressure on various nerves. Doctors had hoped to repair the aneurysm next week, but I believe my grandmother knew that it was near time for her to die, or time to let herself go after being in so much pain.

I started a new job last week, and my grandmother was delighted. I tried calling her everyday last week, but most days she was resting, trying to fight through her pain. I finally got to speak with her on Thursday for about 15 minutes. I could tell that she was exhausted, but she was cognizant, concerned that I was fitting in at the job, and asked if I needed any help, financially until I get my first pay check. We laughed and talked, like we always had.

By Saturday, my first day off, I went to see her. From Thursday to Saturday, I could see a change. She had failed so much between the time I talked to her and the time I saw her. She laid in bed, curled up in a ball, her eyes unfocused, drifting all about the bedroom she lay in. It hurt to see her so weak and in so much pain. But she knew I was there, and tried to talk to me even though she had no strength to do so. She walked only from the bedroom to a chair in the living room, hanging on to me for support. At that point she only weighed 87 pounds.

After a shower, my grandmother declared she wanted to go to the hospital. The pain was so severe and the medicine she had at home was not cutting it. And so, we dressed my grandmother, I dried and combed her hair, and the ambulance came to get her. She only stayed two nights in the hospital. There was nothing the doctors could do except medicate her.

My aunt and uncle took her home yesterday, with a hospital bed prepared and a hospice care worker coming in to give her morphine. All of her veins had collapsed so no IV would do any good, the hospice worker had to insert a dissoluble tablet in my grandmother's lip. My aunt talked with me over the phone, telling me it was only a matter of time, but my grandmother was comfortable. In truth, I only wanted for her comfort. My grandmother was not conscious and even if I were there, she was not.

I am relieved that she is now without pain, and I am relieved that her wishes to die at home had been granted. We had talked about her dying many times and she had made it clear that she did not want to die in a hospital with tubes running in and out of her body. She wanted to die in her sleep, pain free, and at home...and so she did.

When I spoke with her Saturday, she mentioned, like she has many times while growing up, about dreams. She dreamt that she saw my grandfather, my cousin, my great-grandmother and great-grandfather, my aunt Annabell and my uncle Archie, all waiting for her, and calling to her to come. My grandmother tried to laugh at this, saying that if it were heaven, it was her personal heaven. My grandmother was raised a Christian, but did not practice. She had many eccentric ideas about religion, but she believed that our ancestors are waiting for us to pass, something akin to Viking beliefs. My grandmother believed in the power of dreams and the portents they hold, and she knew then that she was ready to go. It made me think of a Viking death hymn, and I told her so. She smiled and patted my hand, and simply told me that someday she would be waiting with all the others for me too. And not worry or mourn, but to be happy that she was off again, on another adventure in another time.

I'm so glad. My grandmother found peace, despite her body being in so much pain. As much as I would love to have my grandmother all my life, I could never be so selfish.

Arrangements are being made today, and I know I might miss either the wake or the funeral. But I don't think I could stand to see people mourning, crying out their personal griefs. It would be something my grandmother would not want. I mourn, but it my selfish nature to do so. But I also celebrate, because I know that my grandmother passed with little or no regret.

I loved my grandmother, I will always love her. She was not perfect and she made many mistakes in her life, but she learned and went on to teach me and my sister. She had a rough, but full life. She knew love, she knew the love of others, she had children, grandchildren, great grandchildren, brothers and sisters...all who loved her for her fiery spirit. So, I do not want to mourn, I want to remember and be grateful.

In the meantime, I go back to work Wednesday and also work Friday and Saturday. A friend is coming to visit on Friday whom I haven't seen in a long time, so there is something to look forward to. This is a friend whom I told my grandmother about, a friend who is very supportive of my life, and I look forward to seeing him again.

I will have to keep myself together as much as I would like to breakdown and sing my grief, but my grandmother would never want that. Even now, I feel her love and her wish for me to do all that I can do for myself. I will never lose that, and no one could ever take that away from me.

So, thank you, Mamaw...you have given me so much, and I never forget.

End of a long run, papers galore, and the luxury of a hot shower

2007-04-23T23:31:00.000-05:00

I know I haven't blogged in a while...ah well, I haven't really written much besides work on the ole thesis. I have the rest of this week and then half of next and then???it's over!!!

It will be nice to give myself some time off, read books that I WANT to read, write on things besides the thesis/monstrosity.

It is really sad that I have not had the time to go out or even prowl a bit. Academia calls, and I must obey.

Pictured to the right, one of my heroes...Vampira. I need to get back into my 'vixen' mode before I forget what it was like to be female, horny, sexy, and just damn irresistible. *chuckles to self* or something close to that. I need a haircut in a dire way, and I need to get some sun and some air...I must face a zombie like creature every time I look into the mirror.

But, at any rate, I hope to get back into the habit of blogging about my boring little life in the near future. Cheers!

Pie, limpness, annoyance, and stupid cunts.

2007-03-18T13:42:00.000-05:00

Strawberries and creme pie, ah, you sit in my refrigerator tempting me to shove my entire face in your pan. After not having anything the least bit sweet in my flat, here comes the pie. I shall eat you and never regret.

After NOT being invited out to drink for St. Patrick's day (who gives a flying fuck about an Irish holi-whatever when you are not Irish in the least bit...Scottish all the way), I was called to pick up two male friends from the bars. Why I did it, I will never know. To break the monotony? At any rate, I should start a fucking taxing service. So, I picked their drunk asses up, and ended up staying over a bit at the Man Whore's flat while the Sergeant crashed on the floor of the living room, a drunk, snoring blob. I was frustrated. The combination of alcohol and conquest made the Man Whore amorous. When he's completely sober, I should ask him to invest in something to keep him hard long enough for one of us to get off. Besides, he is a bit too skinny for my taste. I almost want to tie him down and teach him how to get a woman off. The Man Whore is mostly talk, I have gathered, and is quite clumsy when it comes to pleasuring a woman. Then again, it really is only about him.

Although, sleeping next to him is quite nice. I will not write him off totally. He is an endearing bed fellow...when asleep. I do like sleeping next to him, and that's about it. Perhaps the next time he is interested in touching me, I should simply say that I want to sleep...and let him and his amazing deflating cock be. I left his bed last night, or early morning, with a spent condom still on his cock, reaching out for my body that was no longer there.

I slipped out and home while both men were sleeping. I came home and took a shower and went to bed. At 1, the Sergeant called and woke me. He thanked me for giving him a lift. And I told him that the next time he drunkenly tells me that I "don't know shit about politics, because I am a woman," I would not be responsible for my actions. Prick.

Half an hour later, the Man Whore called...wanting another ride...this time to his car. I expressed my annoyance, but agreed. We have a compromise. He buys me dinner or gas for my car, I'll occasionally drive his skinny white ass around a bit. It annoys me, but in the end, I like the company. Not always, of course, just on occasion.

While picking up the hung-over men, I looked like utter shite, and I know it. That's what you get when you wake me up after a long night of nearly no sleep. The Sergeant paid for a full tank of gas. I used every bit of the advantage to fill my nearly empty car up to the brim. All the while the Man Whore was telling me the latest bit of drama. I guess some stupid cunt the Sergeant was messing with tried to kill herself. I couldn't help but laugh.

The Man Whore is supposedly 'pro-suicide,' "for stupid cunts," he says. I have to agree. In my own life, there have been times I have tried (and obviously failed) to take my own life, but it was NEVER over someone in particular. I told the Man Whore that my reasons had more of a global view...to which he laughed and patted my shoulder and ruffled my hair. I then went on to say that I had no sympathy for anyone who tried to kill themselves over being slighted. I have been slighted many times over, and yes, it hurt and I felt like doing something rash...but it usually culminated in me drinking far too much and calling people drunk and saying something obscene. Ah, a fantastic way to vent one's spleen.

I also noted that I had no sympathy for the Sergeant either. I like him, I really do...that is when he is sober and not around the Man Whore. He's an okay guy. He's fantastic in bed, and he's very warm with his lovers...but...when he's drunk and in the presence of certain folk, he's a prick. I suppose that can be true for most men. Supposedly he said something to the stupid cunt and she tried to kill herself. That's what I gather. The Man Whore also noted that the girl was very much 'in love' with the Sergeant and sought a relationship beyond the Sergeant's means. I shrug... I had a similar itching a while ago like that...but quickly killed it. As much as I can be fond of someone...that doesn't mean I want a relationship.

So...I love the drama, when I am not involved. In a way, it serves the Sergeant right. He can run off at the mouth sometimes...his particular brand of machismo working overtime. He really needs to be more careful with what he says and does. Not everyone is so blase about things as I am. Yeah, it hurts a bit (my ego mostly) when a lover of sorts doesn't return your calls, but that's the breaks, eh? But my life is not effectively over because I see the Sergeant with other women or he blows me off. It will piss me off, but I will move on to someone else quickly.

Ah, one of the reasons I hate my own sex.

So, I am going to return to bed. I have no plans for today. Tomorrow evening I am going to my grandmother's to stay the night. And perhaps this evening the Man Whore will take me to a good dinner. He makes more money than I do, so it's only natural. I should express to him the fact that he's a lousy lay, but that might damage our congenial relationship. Then again, he uses me too much, and I let him for my own gains. I just wish he were better in bed.

*sigh*

Sleep, oblivion, and painful waking

2007-03-01T18:47:00.000-05:00

I slept though my alarm at 10 am this morning. It was still going off at intervals until 4 pm. I woke 15 minutes ago....now being a quarter till seven.

Christ. I slept from about 1 am last night until 6.30 pm the next day. I did not hear the alarm, and I only rose once to go to the bathroom...sometime when it was still dark.

So bugger it, I missed a whole day. I did not want to wake...how odd.

On some evenings, such as this evening, the wind is quite warm although a cool rain blows upon the breeze. It is refreshing after the temperature being so low and the wind like razors.

I realize how strange my life is. I get lonely. I called my sister and spoke with her for a few moments...telling her about my 15 hour sleep. She asked me if I had been drinking. In truth, I have not had a drink in about 2 months...not since New Year's. I just have not been in the mood to drink, and no company to enjoy a drink with...

There is a giddiness in my thoughts...a euphoria after sleeping so long. I am lonely, but I am not lonely. I am sleepy, but I am not sleepy. I am hungry, but not...

There is a surreality surrounding me. Maybe I am slowly becoming unhinged?

I did dream during my long sleep...disjointed dreams...dreams of old houses in which several tenants lived...dealing with water rising into their verandas and back porches. I dreamt of having a light haired daughter, a toddler with black eyes. I dreamt of driving down a great mountain road in a three wheeled car. I dreamt that I was very old, but my body was young.

If I had the time and less responsibility, I wouldn't mind being able to sleep 15 hours a day.

I woke and immediately took a shower. My face feels tight. My left leg tingles, and I stretched after my shower.

No class tomorrow, only work in the morning. And then I'm off to the mountains for the weekend. I really cannot stand to be here at the moment. I am ready to leave.

ugh.

Corkboards, hip pain, cigars, grant proposals, York, yada, yada, yada

2007-02-26T18:09:00.000-05:00

I started decorating a bit...haha...no, not really. But I began tacking up a few things above my workstation at home, clippings, notes to self, a printed quote, a photo I took of a the back of battlements in Borgo Valsugana with an Alpine peak in the background, a photo for Hannibal Rising, and a print out of a Blake engraving. Yeah....

My hip is killing me today, and it started to hurt last Friday. I put a 'Tiger Balm' patch on it...took some tylenol.

Had to stop for cigars before coming home...picked up a sandwich.

In the meantime, I have been budgetting and planning...writing a brief proposal for some amount of grant money. $4000 at most...to attend a conference in York, England...the International Blake Conference celebrating the 250th year of Blake's birth. I have checked ticket prices, roundtrip from Pittsburgh to Manchester, the trainride (roundtrip) from Manchester to York...hotel tariffs for roughly 6 nights, and money for food and incidentals. I would really like to go to York...visit York Minster (the oldest Gothic Cathedral in Northern Europe)... Ah, I need to research!

I am not budgetting in a visit to London. In fact, I am avoiding it now, it being so expensive to even stay in London. York is much cheaper. As much as I would like to go to the Tate, I don't think I can afford it now...I want to keep this cheap...better chance to be awarded the grant. Unfortunately I do not know how much money will be available. Will just have to see.

All the same, I got a bit of info from the organizer...glad to know that a graduate student would be interested in coming. There are several speakers that I would really like to hear...and meet.

In the meantime...research...write...plan a trip to Philly...etc.

Gods, I wish my hip would stop aching...and I wish so many things.

Headaches, audiobooks, and Saturno Butto.

2007-02-20T21:26:00.000-05:00

Today...fucking blew. As per usual, I put off some work to the last minute, only to scramble around all fucking day. I was writing the introductory essay for this semester's project, scanning slides, helping out my friend with searching some information on a particular Romanesque tympanum and its symbolism...Autun, maybe? Ste. Foy? ugh. So, the headache set in...and stayed until after I made it back to my flat after 6 pm. I showered, ate, watched a bit of TV.

NBC, really the only channel I can get, has that 'To Catch a Predator' on tonight. I never watch it. It makes me uncomfortable for several reasons. As much as I am against child predators, online solicitation of minors, etc. I also want to beat the hell out of the kids who are engaging with the fucks who are called the 'predators.' It is not as if these kids don't know what they are inviting...but watching the show just makes me feel slimy...like a secondary sick high for the real child predators. As much as the men who solicit so-called children, people who get off on watching these poor schmucks get caught are almost as bad. So...I don't watch the show...ever.

I have been downloading some audio books to break up the monotony of music on my iPod. I'm still downloading all of Thomas Harris's books except for 'Hannibal Rising.' I am also downloading 'The Universe in the Nutshell,' 'The Andromeda Strain,' and Haruki Murakami's 'The Wind Up Bird Chronicle.' All three books are by some of my favorite thinkers and writers. I also loved the cheesy early 70s version of Andromeda Strain on film. I'm actually excited to start listening to some of these books while at work. I just added Joseph Campbell's 'The Power of Myth,' and Carl Jung's 'Man and his Symbols' both of which I have read...but not for a while.

I begrudgingly bought the complete poetry and prose of William Blake, and a commentary of Jerusalem from Amazon.com. Spent a total of $42...ugh. I really have to control myself with Amazon. I just do not have the money to buy all the books that I want...boo hoo....

Also, I mentioned Saturno Butto to a friend today (Glamour Sebastian pictured). Ah, Saturno...

I am planning a trip to Philly at the end of March. I actually look toward this trip as an escape. I have been near Philly many times on my way to NYC, but never to Philly. I really want to see the Duchamp collection at the Philly Museum of Art... Will probably take the train up, stay the night, and come back late the next day. I am going to have to do some made budgeting for this...

*sigh*

Shiatsu, pegging, and that horrid feeling.

2007-02-11T18:34:00.000-05:00

Working on my taxes have never been a fun activity, alas...and I cannot find a particular receipt for a book I bought...which I can deduct. grr.

So, I went down to my parent's for the weekend, finding that they have twice the snow as in Mo-town. I had a hard time in my all wheel drive car getting up their driveway. I had to back down three times before I picked up enough speed and courage to make it all the way up the drive without getting stuck in a rut full of snow or somehow managing to leave the narrow tire tracks and blazing through new snow.

My mum has this new shiatsu chair...which translates to me 'beat the shit out of you' chair. I think my back it bruised from just sitting in it for about a minute.

I also informed my mother what 'pegging' meant...long story.

Actually, I would be interested to trace the so-called 'etymology' of that word... *giggle*

And as of the moment, I really need to find something to eat, but in all honesty, I feel as if I will vomit it back up. Ugh.

What a shite entry. I need a nap.

Older men, the pressing of hands to hands, and other quirks.

2007-02-08T17:09:00.000-05:00

Short day, in which I slept as late as I could, burying my alarm clock under my pillows in an attempt to pretend it did not exist. Again, it is bitterly cold out...

I have been feeling a bit odd lately, besides having to deal with the fact that my bones ache and that my intellectual prowess is beating out my sexual prowess. It is this love of learning that has been my source of inspiration lately...among other things.

It is strange how our minds can unconsciously switch things on and off in our bodies. For instance...ever since a strange dream last week, every time I talk with my male history professor, I walk away with an uncomfortable dampness between my thighs.

Gods forbid...right?

This professor is young, but not so young as a TA...he has his Ph.D. in history, and is apparently married according to the gold band on his left hand. In fact, I find the man delightful as a professor, and I enjoy the class immensely. I like the fact that he remembers my name out of a class of nearly 50 other students.

But ever since the dream (which strangely consisted of a topic of arranged marriage, a trip back into time, and my professor watching me pleasure myself, all the while make subtle suggestions), I cannot walk away from that class without wanting to rush home and finish myself off. Yesterday, I talked with my professor briefly after class, talking about different aspects of British society, mainly my interest in Blake and Blake's fascination with the druids...British fairy stories and the tradition of mythography in Britain...I was downright twitching. My professor must think me very odd, laughing nervously when he meets my eye or how I watch his lips when he speaks.

Granted, my professor is a fairly good looking man, somewhat boyish in the way he wears his hair and the types of clothing he wears, but I am sure that I am probably the only female in the class who must force herself to stop rubbing her thighs together in class. It is a problem.

I felt like an ass when I left after speaking to him yesterday.

I never dress up or do much to better my appearance when I do go to my lectures. I do not have the time in the mornings, nor the will to do so. My hair is at that awkward length where it wants to stick up in the back...and since it has been so cold I am forced to wear a hat or toboggan...which ends up giving my a disheveled look when the hat comes off. My skin is dry, due to the icy wind out, and flushed. I have on heavy clothes and boots, and I am not there to make a fashion statement or to even attract any one with my appearance (of course, that is usually the case...but I do 'pretty up' every once in a while). I talk too fast, I laugh too nervously and I cannot help but stare sometimes. I am just not comfortable.

So...as my professor leans his arms against the wall as we talk, shifts his weight to one hip, I swallow thickly. I kept thinking that I need to go home, get trashed and laugh at myself. And so, as quickly and politely as I could, I thanked him for his time, and rushed out.

So cool, eh?

Egads, I need to get this twisted little 'crush' under control. In all actuality, I would have never been so aroused had it not been for a stupid little dream.

------

I have been thinking...as per usual...about strange things people do. Or, at least, what I consider strange.

Handshaking...or pressing palm against palm in some short ritual to convey a particular meaning.... A greeting, congratulations, parting or a sign of some agreement...

Besides this, it is a means of passing skin cells and germs... *chuckle*

I started thinking about handshaking at the end of my sister's wedding, where the wedding party shook the hands of the guests in a sign of thanks. I shook hands with people I knew and mostly people I did not know. I kept thinking that it was strange that I should have to touch these people...

I also kept thinking of a line from Romeo and Juliet... '...palm to palm is holy palmer's kiss...let lips do what hands do...' etc etc etc.

At any rate. So sensual and so plebeian...the handshake mystifies me.

---------

I keep thinking of what to eat for my one meal of the day...dinner. It is definitely soup weather.

Soup, then shower, then study, then masturbate, then bed. At least tomorrow is Friday.

I am hoping that my new pair of glasses will be ready...it has nearly been a week since I had an eye exam and paid an exorbitant amount of money (for me, at least) on a new set of frames.

My eye sight is not too terrible, but I still need something for when I drive or when I need to lecture in the dark. Ten years ago, my eye sight was a different story...for I was slowly and surely going blind. Five years ago, I had surgery on my eyes and for once in my life, experience perfect vision... Slowly, over five years and with use (of course) my eye sight has degraded. Thus is life, I suppose.

Ah, well...new glasses...something (better than nothing) to look forward to.

How dull my life is at the moment?

St. George's Hill, El Laberinto del Fauno, and the decay of internal organs

2007-02-05T00:18:00.000-05:00

I spent the biggest part of today in the library. I had all my books, my thermos of coffee, my iPod (Gin-chan), and Enrico Caruso and Glenn Gould's Goldberg Variations to keep me company...oh, and did I mention Gerrard Winstanley.

It has been one of those strange, nearly surreal days. Besides being bitterly cold outside, I feel as if I have reached a mile marker towards my path to enlightenment. How or why, I cannot explain, but when you know that you have been enlightened in some way, it usually takes a great deal of time to actualize the fact.

Last Wednesday, my genius neighbor and I went to see El Laberinto del Fauno...mangled by the English language: Pan's Labyrinth. Fantastic...is really the only word I can think of to describe the film...beautiful, perhaps, and graphic. Such petty words, overused to the point that they no longer have no meaning or basis of comparison. boo.

I have been deliciously randy, but to no avail. No time and no takers. I marry the bed, as Anne Sexton would say so eloquently.

Spent almost 2 hours talking to the genius neighbor on the phone about Caruso...Match Point...and promising to watch a film about Glenn Gould with him sometime this week.

Also picked up some books I requested...ended up being 12 books in all, possibly about 60 lbs. of weight to carry to my car and into my flat. All Blake books, except one which is a large tome with dry rotten binding. All of these books but one are due back by the end of the month. bugger.

I am hoping to get some sort of enlightenment from these books...an aspect that I have not thought of and fleshed out on my own. Ah, learning.

Master's thesis, here I come.

And then dissertation...ugh.

I need to get laid. A thorough rogering and a full roll in the hay. My mouth waters at the thought of fellatio. hm. Bugger it all.

My hips have been aching for weeks now. A dull ache in the very bone. My side also hurts, and I hope it has nothing to do with my lungs. I think it is too low on my side for it to be my lungs. The cold draws out the ache, and I did have to go out into the biting cold today...and tomorrow, and the next day and the next. It doesn't matter how much I wear, or how many layers I don...it aches all the same...like the cold is being absorbed through my face or hands and travels down my skeleton to my hips and lower back. Bugger, bugger, bugger.

The dissolution of bone and sinew. I have a feeling that I will probably end up crippled toward the end of my life.

The bone deep ache.

2007-01-26T22:16:00.000-05:00

It was so cold out today that my bones ached so much more than I can ever remember. I had work this morning and then lecture.

I need to figure out something to do with my hair, either just shave my fucking head or find a new hat to wear. guh.

I came home and took a nap, so cold that I piled on a few more blankets. Woke at about 5 pm, incredibly hungry. I really haven't had much to eat this whole week. Coffee has been my fuel. I thought about ordering out, but what I wanted does not delivery on Fridays for some stupid reason... no DP Dough for me...just as well.

I keep alternating between incredibly depressed and apathetic. I think it is hormonal. Sudden moments of my eyes tearing up and my lips quivering. I could simply cry my heart out. But it changes up and I deride myself and laugh. Talk about mood swings.

I think I am somehow lamenting the fact that the Sergeant has blatantly ignored me even when I only call once a month. ugh. It stings a bit...being unwanted.

*sigh*

I am really craving some human contact. I need a hug.

I suppose that is the crux of being me...so attached to my privacy and isolation that when I actually do want to reach out, there is no one there.

Fuck it. I am tired, just so awfully tired.

Discontent and drinking

2007-01-25T21:38:00.000-05:00

Even though I went to bed at 4 am last night and was able to sleep in...the sound of someone drilling woke me... The whir of a drill usually makes me strangely happy, but not the whir of a drill, that high pitched squeal, which rouses me from deep REM sleep and makes me have odd half dreams about multiple car pile ups.

I went into work early, stopped and got something for lunch, a hot cup of coffee and a soda. Got quite a bit of work done, talked with my fellow grad students and laughed.

My lecture, as per usual, wrenched at my very soul. I think I am really teaching the rest of the class more about Neo-Classicism than the actual instructor.

Came home with a headache. Called the Sergeant, whom I hung up on after being put on hold...only to be called back later. I was a bit perturbed and was a bit short. I doubt he will ever call me again.

My headache is slowly dissipating due to some medicine and a little bit of wine. I feel tired, my bones ache, and my neighbor has their bass turned up too loud. I almost want to walk down to my neighbor's place, knock on the door and smash my creepy fuck of neighbor under my heel. He's really a creep...and loud...and obnoxious...and I'm glad I do not see him too often.

Ugh, oh well. Found a neat site for vintage erotic playing cards...here.

Yes, porn...need it, love it, want to roll around in it until I feel almost too dirty.

*sigh*

I'm starting to feel a bit sleepy, finally. Just tomorrow to endure and then the weekend. I need to do a shite load of laundry...I miss having a washer and dryer.

It is also colder than a well digger's arse out, but I still have my bedroom window cracked about 2 inches. I love sleeping in the cold, wrapped up in a cocoon of blankets...ah, comfort.

Winter finally arrives?

2007-01-21T21:16:00.000-05:00

Finally...it snows a substantial amount. The rest of the country is getting knocked about my ole man Winter, and today is the first time since winter began that I have seen any amount of accumulation. About 4 inches so far...

I am happy to see it actually snowing. I have missed it.

It is warm in my flat, and I am wearing socks...two on each foot, so I won't have to complain about my feet aching...which they usually do when it is cold. At the moment my lower back hurts...partly from strain and partly from my monthly stalker.

Last Thursday, my man whore friend crashed at my flat, and believe it or not, we slept together in quiet harmony. He's a skinny guy...a bit too skinny for my tastes, but we sleep well together. It was nice to be held and not drooled upon. He crowded me against the wall, and somehow managed to infiltrate my cocoon of blankets without irking me. I guess that's one advantage to him being so thin. The only complaint was that he accidentally knocked me squarely in the back of the head, waking up and not knowing where he was...and quickly apologized by pressing a kiss into the back of my right shoulder.

I had to get up at 8 that morning for work, and we lazed about, being naughty...me complaining that I would kill the cat that shit in my mouth... ugh. He got a laugh out of that one.

We do not have the most illustrious sexual history...he's usually got the cursed 'whiskey dick,' and I'm not particularly attracted to him. So we shrugged off our little itch of sexual frustration and I dropped him off on my way to work.

He owes me.

Alas, I wouldn't mind just asking him to crash at my place so I can sleep with him again...with no sexual undertones. He doesn't move much, and I like being held.

Ah well...

Schools around the area are on a 2 hour delay, and I can only fantasize about the University closing for a day because of the bitter cold and snow.

Going down some Tylenol for my back, sip some ginger ale and do puzzles before sleep...I cannot wait until my cycle is over...and I do not have to feel as if someone has trampled all over my lower back.

Movie Reviews...part trois.

2007-01-19T19:59:00.000-05:00

Another series of movies, this time with a foreign flare. I have also loved Asian Cinema, and as of late, Korean cinema has really been standing out. My tastes have been shifting from Japanese pop culture to Korean, more specifically South Korean cinema.

Last year I finally got to watch Oldboy, the second of three (now all released) called the Vengeance trilogy. For anyone who has not seen Oldboy...SEE IT NOW! Based off of a Japanese manga/comic, the Korean interpretation is a beautiful, disturbing and memorable. First is the film I just viewed, Sympathy for Mr. Vengeance. Third is Sympath for Lady Vengeance, which I will have to find.

So, without further ado...movie reviews...part trois.

First!

Title: Sympathy for Mr. Vengeance / Boksuneun naui geot (2002)
Director: Park Chan-wook

Basic Plot: This is the story of Ryu, a deaf man, and his sister, who requires a kidney transplant. Ryu's boss, Park, has just laid him off, and in order to afford the transplant, Ryu and his girlfriend develop a plan to kidnap Park's daughter. Things go horribly wrong, and the situation spirals rapidly into a cycle of violence and revenge.

Starring: Song Kang-ho, Shin Ha-kyun, Bae Du-na , Lim Ji-Eun, and Han Bo-bae.

My Rating: 5 out of 5
Buying Power: WILL BUY!!!

My Take: As stated before, the second of a trilogy of sorts, all with the common theme of Vengeance. This seems to be a theme close to Park Chan-wook's heart (the short film on 3 extremes under his direction is also a revenge based story). I just Wiki'ed the director to see that there are particular actors he uses over and over through the trilogy. Hm.

This film is visseral, raw, with limited dialogue, and from time to time, a bit of a drag. Shin Ha-kyun, who plays the main character, is absolutely wonderful, and yes...I feel sympathy for that version of Mr. Vengeance...as well as Song Kang-ho's character, perhaps the true Mr. Vengeance. The end was fantastic...and the moral of the story? Vengeance begets vengeance...and so on and so so forth. I will probably try to get this film, since I already have Oldboy.

Second

Title: The Returner / Ritana (2002)
Director: Takashi Yamazaki

Basic Plot: After an alien invasion threatens to annihilate the human race, a young Japanese girl, named Milly (Anne Suzuki), travels back in time from 2084 to October 2002, and enlists the reluctant aid of skilled Tokyo gunman, named Miyamoto (Takeshi Kaneshiro), to discover and prevent the start of the war. However, trouble ensues when the two protagonists are forced to deal with a Japanese mafia boss, named Mizoguchi (Goro Kishitani), who is somehow involved in the start of the war by keeping the first alien spaceship and its alien pilot captive, while our two heroes race against the clock to find a way to stop the oncoming destruction from the vengeance-seeking alien invasion fleet on its way to Earth.

Starring: Takeshi Kaneshiro, Anne Suzuki, and Goro Kishitani.

My Rating: 3 out of 5
Buying Power: Probably not.

My Take: Japanese cinema and Japanese television differ, television actually being better than the movies most of the time... The Japanese, for all their technology, should stick to films with little or no SPX or English speaking actors or English lines. This movie would have been better as an anime.

I love, I mean , I absolutely love Takeshi Kaneshiro, and acting wise, he really dazzled me. Hell, Anne Suzuki was great as well, but the story itself with its sappy music, strangely non-sentimental flashbacks, and campy English, would have been better as an anime...yep, yep. It was amusing, and it is nice to see Takeshi Kaneshiro speaking Japanese for once...compared to Chinese. But, oh well...don't take this film too seriously.

Third....

Title: Run Lola Run / Lola Rennt (1998)
Director: Tom Tykwer

Basic Plot: At home, Lola gets a call from her frightened boyfriend who has lost a large amount of gang money he was smuggling into the country. His only chance of staying alive is if she can get replacement cash to him in twenty minutes. Lola decides to try her father at the bank where he works. But exactly how things will turn out depends crucially, almost to the second, on how she sets off on her errand.

Starring: Franka Potente, Moritz Bleibtreu, Herbert Knaup, etc.

My Rating: 5 out of 5
Buying Power: ABSOLUTELY

My Take: I like the Princess and the Warrior, and I love Franka Potente. This film has that fantastic indie feel, and it is no wonder it won a shite load of awards. This film really has to do with the very little things that a person does and how it affects the people around them... Kind of like the Chaos theory. Three different versions...which will it be in the end?

All in all, this is a fantasically unique film, a definite watch. It is a German film, in German...with subtitles. The characters, even the minor onces, are memorable, the dialogue to a minimum and the soundtrack also wonderful (I wish I could find it to download).

I know these reviews are a bit short, pardon moi. More to come the next time I rent films...I guess.

Links, love, and formalities

2007-01-16T20:21:00.000-05:00

Been a while since an update, but I have an excuse...the new semester. I'm slowly getting into a new routine, luckily all of my classes in the afternoon, but work in the morning. So far, everything is going along pretty well...all my meetings scheduled, yada yada yada.

Anyway, I thought I would share a few links I have found...the first being a virtual exhibition here: kamasutra3d.org

This site is gorgeous! Although, if you have a slower connection rate, it isn't as fun. But still, interesting, hot, and fun.

I also found a clip with Yoko Ono's 'Cut Piece' from the 60s. In just about any modern art history class, this performance piece is brought up...only photos as a record of the event, but!!!! here's a link to some footage! CUT PIECE

This is a .mov file, so do have a Quicktime plug-in. I should also send the link to a few of my friends and colleagues! tee hee...

Another smile...just found a clip of an old Nina Hartley flick...gods, must be the mid 70s or so... *blush* Nina, I love you!!!

Ah, off to read about about the New Model Army...yippee!

Simply annoyed.

2007-01-05T23:38:00.000-05:00

Besides having to see my ex in public (luckily with no acknowledgement), no one fucking returning my calls, and being so horny that I want to claw my face off, I spent this evening watching/talking with a good friend of mine. I simply love this guy, and sometimes am conflicted if I am attracted to him or not.

I rented some films which will show up in my Movie Review...part deux post tomorrow. I started to watch one with said friend and ended up talking about whatevers...mostly about how our mutual friends suck balls. So, they're out...together, my semi-regular Sergeant, and my man whore friend...all the while wondering why these friends are never returning my calls (2 calls to be total for the Sergeant). It makes me wonder if there's some sort of conspiracy going on...

Fuck them, my friend and I agreed.

The new semester starts Monday, and in ways I am looking forward to it. Something to distract me for a while...

I am just so fucking annoyed right now with so many things that I want to start punching things.

Seeing the ex did not help matters...pissed me off all over again. Ruined a happy meal with my sister... grrr...

Cannot be helped, I suppose, since he still exists and still lives in the same town. Just hearing his voice set my teeth on edge. grrr...

So I'm off to masturbate myself into oblivion because I have not had the chance or the motivation to go out and pick and choose from someone new. That annoys me...about myself mainly.

Off to massage my clit, rub my juices in my clean shaved pussy, and think about what I am going to do tomorrow.

Cheers.

Movie Reviews...part deux.

2007-01-05T17:35:00.000-05:00

Bored out of my skull...so out to rent some more films.

As much as I like to watch films that I know and probably do not own, I always like to rent new films that have yet to come under my special brand of scrutiny. So, in the order that I watched them...

1st:

Title: Little Miss Sunshine (2006)
Director: Jonathan Dayton & Valerie Faris

Basic Plot: (from IMdb.com) Olive is a little girl with a dream: winning the Little Miss Sunshine contest. Her family wants her dream to come true, but they are so burdened with their own quirks, neuroses, and problems that they can barely make it through a day without some disaster befalling them. Olive's father Richard is a flop as a motivational speaker, and is barely on speaking terms with her mother. Her uncle Frank, a renowned Proust scholar, has attempted suicide following an unsuccessful romance with a male graduate student. Her brother Dwayne, a fanatical follower of Nietzsche, has taken a vow of silence, which allows him to escape somewhat from the family whose very presence torments him. And Olive's grandfather is a ne'er-do-well with a drug habit, but at least he enthusiastically coaches Olive in her contest talent routine. Circumstances conspire to put the entire family on the road together with the goal of getting Olive to the Little Miss Sunshine contest in far off California.

Starring: Greg Kinnear, Toni Colette, Alan Arkin, Paul Dano, Steve Carell, and Abigail Breslin as Olive.

My Rating (5 star scale): 3 out of 5 stars
Buying Power: Nope, not gonna.

My Take: As a fan of Steve Carell, and Toni Colette, I thought I would give this film a try. *sigh* The only two redeeming qualities of this film is Paul Dano as the Nietzschian brother and Alan Arkin as the foul mouthed grandfather. Steve Carell was...eh...okay. I had hoped that this movie would be funny...my brand of dark humor that has me rolling. It failed to own up to it's hype. First off, it was silly at the end, and after watching the various alternate endings it seemed that the writers did not know what the fuck they were doing. Started off with a good idea and literally ran out of gas. The ending was SO silly that I had to cover my ears and grit my teeth. I was incredibly disappointed.

All the same, Paul Dano was by far the most interesting character in the whole film...a troubled and emo teen who forgoes his emo peers by taking up Nietzsche...taking a vow of silence so he can discipline himself and attain his goal to enter flight school...only to find out 9 months into his vow that he is colorblind... Yeah, a spoiler, sorry. I spoil as a warning that this film lacks something...basic...and I cannot think of what it is. I just know that I'm glad I didn't rent this film for the whole week.

2nd...

Title: Lady in the Water (2006)
Director: M. Night Shyamalan

Basic Plot: (from IMdB.com) Cleveland Heep, a stuttering apartment superintendent, encounters a girl named Story swimming in the complex's pool. He soon learns that she comes from the Blue World, and has a message for mankind. Will he be able to help her complete her mission?

Starring: Paul Giamatti, Bryce Dallas Howard, Cindy Cheung, et al., and M. Night Shyamalan

My Rating (5 star scale): 5 out of 5
Buying Power: Will buy when price comes down!!!

My Take: I do like Shyamalan...although I thought Signs was kinda...ugh. I do like Bryce Dallas Howard, especially in the Village. And this film was not pushed as much as the ones before it...so I was hesitant to watch it. Well, it was a great film! No foul language...no real nudity...only a little bit of violence, just a well rounded film where the plot is strong and the emotional depth of the characters was believable. All the same, I did think it was a tad bit predictable...but I have watched so many movies, read so many books and write my own story lines as well, so my opinion is a bit biased. *no ego trip here*

I love bedtime stories and fairy tales...and this film is just that. There is a children's book, apparently. And the extras on the DVD are interested and funny. Actually the humor in the film is really great...fantastic dialogue, fantastic characters and Paul Giamatti's performance was spectacular! This film was inspirational, the underlying theme being that of purpose...everyone has a purpose. *sigh* Yes, I will buy this film!

3rd.

Title: Night Watch aka Nochnoy Dozor (2004)
Director: Timur Bekmambetov

Basic Plot: Hundred of years ago, the forces of light and darkness faced each other in a very violent battle on a bridge. In order to avoid the total slaughter, their leaders agree to have an armistice. Along the centuries, the two balanced sides are divided and the forces of light watch and control the vampires, a.k.a. as the forces of night. Among the humans lives "The Others", i.e., persons with supernatural powers including witches, sorcerers and vampires and with the free will to choose which side to join. The legend says that the two forces will be unbalanced by "The Great Other", and the side this powerful being selects will win the battle. In 1992, in Moscow, Anton Gorodetsky joins the forces of the light while hiring a witch for a black magic. In the present days, he faces the consequences of his act.

Starring: Konstantin Khabensky, Vladmir Menshov, Maria Poroshina, Galina Tyunina, Mariya Prorshina

My Rating (5 star scale): 4 out of 5
Buying Power: Possibly, when all three movies are out.

My Take: First off, this is a RUSSIAN film, and should be watched in Russian with subtitles. Second, this is the first of 3 movies, Night Watch, then Day Watch...and then I don't know what the third one is. This film is sort of like Underworld, but with less hightech special effects. Actually this is probably the second Russian film I have ever watched, and I had my Russophile friend explain a few things that I found to be a bit confusing.

Anyway, this film deals mainly with the battle between Light and Dark...vampires, witches, and shapeshifters. Any of these can chose to be Light or Dark...which I found interesting. The only gripe I have with this film is the obvious been of compressing they did to the story. The cinematics are spectacular, the special effects pretty cool, and the story lacking since the directors and writers tried to cram so much into nearly 2 hours. I would really like to watch the next film...

One thing, and part of the reason why I gave this film only 4 stars has to so with the lack of chemistry between some of the characters...no real romantic/action relationships between the male and very few female characters. I did not think there was enough back story to explain things the way they should have, etc. I did like the actor who plays Yegor, the young boy, for a child he has some on screen presence. I also wish they could have played a bit more into Olga's character, Tiger Cub, and Svetlana... Ah, well. I will just have wait for the next film?

A land of religious freedom?

2007-01-03T18:50:00.000-05:00

I had read about it earlier in the month, but now that the new term Congress is about to be sworn in there has been some heat about the first Muslim elected to Congress and what he will swearing his oath to office with... Makes sense that Rep. Keith Ellison would swear upon the Quran, doesn't it.

However, the old guard Rep. Goode from Virginia is spouting this shit:

taken from YahooNews...

Last month, Virginia Rep. Virgil Goode, R-Va., warned that unless immigration is tightened, "many more Muslims" will be elected and follow Ellison's lead.

What utter shite! Want to talk about antiquated and downright prejudice?

Rep. Ellison converted to Islam in college, as is his guaranteed right as an American. And as an American, a Muslim American, Rep. Ellison has the right to swear upon the sacred text of his faith.

In a country where religious freedom is celebrated, what right does Rep. Goode have to criticize? It just goes to show that we are still a nation ruled by the so-called old Christian white man, eh?

Also, two Buddhist civil servants are being sworn into office this new term...would Rep. Goode have them swear on Bibles as well? How idiotic, in my humble opinion. If this country had been founded by men who were not of the Christian persuasion, what would Rep. Goode have to swear on? Would he insist, as is his right, that he have a Bible, or would he go against his own faith and swear on something else because it is the so-called traditional thing to do?

Makes me laugh, really. This is no more a Christian nation than it is a Buddhist, Muslim or Hindu nation...

New Year's Eve...and all that comes with it.

2006-12-31T19:24:00.000-05:00

It is unseasonably warm out, although it is raining.

Ah, another year gone. I suppose when one gets older the changing of seasons and years move so quickly that one barely has time to notice. That's how I feel at the moment...lost in the stream and flow of unstoppable time.

I am bored out of my skull, and any semblance of a plan for the New Year is nonexistent. It irks me. I will probably spend another New Year's alone. This is a reoccurring trend, it seems.

No one is fucking returning my calls. I have to wonder why.

I did talk to a friend last night for almost two hours. He mentioned that I have not been invited out because all my friends are male...and they are out to hook up with other women. Apparently I am off limits.

At times like this I wish I did have more girlfriends. But, damnit, I hate women.

Yes, it irks me...incredibly so. So-called friends, eh?

I could hook up with some of the miscreants that proposition me from time to time, online folk who cannot spell to save face. Example: U wanna hok [sic] up? Makes me growl and spit angrily. By the gods why do idiots seem to flock to me? I don't want them, they want me, what I do want does not return my calls...and it goes on and on.

Annoyed is putting it too lightly. I should just quit trying to do anything when it comes to other people. Fuck them all. I am going to gulp down an unhealthy quantity of liquor and watch My Man Godfrey.

Fuck the new year.

Drabble, brabble, labble...

2006-12-31T00:38:00.000-05:00

This is bad...

This is really bad...

She kept saying these words to herself, pacing before the bathroom sink, her fingers laced through her hair. Her ever moving mind had flashes of how silly it all was...it could be so much worse.

She thought she might be in love.

There was a difference between loving someone and being 'in love' with someone. Currently, she was afraid she was 'in love.' Of course, it could be worse...she could love wholly and unabashedly. But no...she would not let herself get that far out of control.

Five years of a stagnant relationship had ended all her notions of finding 'true love,' or anyone who would love her unconditionally. True love did not exist...not to her in her world. Sure, she had been hurt, but she knew after my soul searching that most of her hurt was of her own making.

She was sexually potent...and silly notions of romance belonged only in movies and trashy novels. Love was not predictable and it was fleeting, like much else in life.

But she paced frenetically...she was in love and it was the last thing she wanted to be in at the moment. Besides, the object of her affection, thought and worry had explicitly told her that he could never love her in return.

Futility...all life was situations of futility in her mind. This situation was a perfect case of such.

She was cursing under her breath. She was seriously thinking about committing some horrid act of violence...not toward herself, but toward anyone. Murder would definitely distract her from her feelings of...love.

She retched. A wave of nausea passed through her and she tripped toward the toilet.

Yes...puke and then cry like a baby. Life was so unfair.

She hated him, she honestly hated him for making her feel this way. It wasn't his fault, in truth, but she still hated him with the intensity of a thousand suns. She wanted to hurt him horribly...and maybe he would hate her in return instead of simply act indifferently toward her.
He wasn't returning her sporadic calls. She hadn't seen him for 2 weeks, but she had been thinking about him a little more than what was healthy...

Damnit. This is bad...

Popcorn...I hate you!

2006-12-30T18:12:00.000-05:00

Everyone has had to pry out a popcorn hull from between a tooth and their gums...everyone. Damnit, I am really having a hard time here...prying at my teeth with my fingernails (very unsanitary) and toothbrush and floss...toothpicks...icepicks...anything.

I also realized I growl at people when I drive. Yes...growl. When someone drives a bit too close...when someone cuts in front of me at 70 mph, etc. Interesting.

Also interesting:

Nippon, Bonzai!!!

Movie Reviews...part une.

2006-12-29T00:04:00.000-05:00

Went looking for a film to buy, didn't have it at Blockbuster...ended up renting a few films.

Finally, A Scanner Darkly is out on DVD...and I picked up a German film my sister recced The Princess and the Warrior.

First things first...

A Scanner Darkly.

Starring: Keanu Reeves, Winona Ryder, Robert Downey Jr., Woody Harelson and Rory Cochrane...

Basic Plot: The L.A. of a not-too-distant future suffers a surge of drug abuse involving a new ultra-addictive and eventually brain-damaging substance simply named "D". Bob Arctor is an undercover narc leading a double life, dutifully reporting to his superiors while effectively having abandoned whatever normal existence he had for a "D" user/dealer career. But this schizophrenic situation and the drug-induced memory and concentration lapses put Bob under mounting stress. (from IMdB)

This film is based on the novel by one of my favorite authors...Philip K. Dick. Sound familiar? Yep...stories to film include Blade Runner and Minority Report.

MY RATING? 5 out of 5 stars.

WILL BUY? Hell yeah.

This is basically a graphic novel put to film. The actors have been traced over, basically, with a graphic, almost animated filter...much like the commercials on TV about some investment company. If you can get past this new-fangled thing, you'll love the film. Actually, I cannot think of a better way to bring Dick's book to the screen.

The conversation is fantastic, the twists a bit predictable, but good twists. Keanu Reeves kicks ass...and Robery Downey Jr. is once again fantastic. The DVD is not chocked full of extras, but there are two 'Making of...' documentaries...interviews from the 70s with Dick, and commentary with his daughter.

It was also great to see Winona Ryder on screen again. I missed her.

As for The Princess and the Warrior...

German title: Der Krieger und die Kaiserin

Starring: Franka Potente and Benno Furmann...

Basic plot: Young nurse Sissi lives a secluded life, seemingly entirely devoted to her patients at Birkenhof asylum. Her first encounter with ex-soldier and drifter Bodo has a lasting impact. He causes an accident that results in her lying under a truck, unable to breathe. While he provides life-saving first aid, mesmerized Sissi begins to wonder whether he may be the man of her dreams. But when she tracks him down weeks later her affection is rejected, as Bodo is stuck somewhere between a traumatic past and a criminal future. (from IMdB)

My Rating? 4.5 out of 5 stars

Buy? Doubtful

This is a film that is great to watch on occasion, but not so great as to buy and watch repeatedly. The basic plot I copied and pasted really does not convey the sorrow that runs through this film and tugs at the edges of the scabbiest black heart. However, the reason I only gave this film 4 stars has to do with the story itself...it seems too short, as if I am missing something more.

The DVD has deleted scenes, which are amusing. Your basic extras are included.

Benno Furmann is gorgeous...his eyes are amazing...and someone once told me that I look like Franka Potente...but I don't see it.

Franka Potente is also in Run Lola, Run...which I have not seen and have also been told I should.

So, movie reviews. I should write these more often. I used to...reviewed The Last Temptation of Christ, Quills, Blue Velvet and others. I wish I could get the reviews back, but it was only my now deleted MySpace blog...fucking MySpace can suck my arse.

At any rate...off to sleep.

Decompressing

2006-12-28T12:53:00.000-05:00

Well, the holidays are winding down with only New Year's this weekend. I made back to my humble apartment, unpacked...except the new vacuum in the trunk of my car.

The holiday was nice with family, food and...well, that's about it. Christmas as low key, and I actually went to church Sunday morning to hear my dad preach. It has been a long time since I have been to church, but as much as I love my dad and respect his profession, I was not particularly moved by the service. It was a good sermon, but I did not really get anything out of it. That night my parents had a little service, which I attended with my sister and brother-in-law. Finally at home, we opened our presents. I bought my mum an Idiot's Guide to Saudi Arabia...yeah...she keeps asking me about Wahabism (sp?) and I keep telling her that I do not really know, but to wait for Christmas. Fixed that, eh?

We munched on shrimp, cheeseballs and crackers and went to bed...tired.

Mum bought my quite a few clothes, which I needed in a bad way. And...a little stuffed pug...like a beanie baby, but soft and much cuter. *chortle*

Christmas day was just a bunch of laziness all around...dinner and me taking a 6 hour nap while the rest of the family watched football.

My sister and my brother-in-law headed home before we got a bit of snow...she has to work this week. And yesterday, I accompanied my parents to a 'get together' of my father's side of the family at Tamarak (a horrendous structure by the WV turnpike that sells WV made goods...conference center, Greenbriar hotel food court, etc...reminds me of Carousel from Logan's Run... RENEW!!!), where I had my yearly fried green tomato sandwich, keylime pie and overpriced by fantastic mocha latte. I ended up nearly fainting in the place and had to be set down in the food court and force fed chocolate by my aunt. Strange times.

Now...finally home...ready for the New Year and all that entails. I just hope I don't spend New Years alone this time...like I did last time...and the time before that.

*sigh*

Must clean some more, make some phone calls... I am so restless and so...let's just say...naughty, that I really need to decompress and get laid.

Yeah.

Christmas at the folks really put me on edge. I was lonely, bored...but happy since my family WAS all together.

Oh, and Internet...having that back helps... OOOO, new Chad Vader episodes! *disappears*

Escaping again.

2006-12-20T15:57:00.000-05:00

I just got back into town. I'm only spending the night and will probably jet off in the morning.

I needed to get out of my parent's company for a bit. I find that the older I get, the less I want to spend every waking moment of a holiday with my family. I get restless...and bored. Ugh.

So, I drove back up north, and finished my Christmas gifting...bought my dad a box set of a Vietnam War documentary and my brother in law the Sci-fi channel's Dune and Children of Dune on DVD. Christmas is low key this year, but that is fine with me. I went home to see my mother sobbing over the Christmas tree which had fallen over earlier that day. My mum loves strange and unusual ornaments...so with the tumble of the tree our green glass pickle is lost and the frog king has lost a leg... *sigh*

I bought a book for $4 for a friend who is a Russophile...just gave it to him, much to his adoration and glee. Good find.

I'm almost done with my grandmother's gift...and my sister's gift is already under the tree. My mum's gift...a Dummy's Guide to Saudi Arabia (don't ask...she wanted to know more about the kingdom) is wrapped and ready to go.

All that remains is putting the other gifts under the tree...and my own Christmas gift. My uncle, from the beginning of time, has always sent me a $100 bill. And my grandmother always gives me money for Christmas. I would like to buy a video camera...saw one at Wallie world for $500, and if I'm thrifty, I might buy it.

Of course, I want to do a bit of researching before I buy anything. I did the same with my digital camera 2 years ago...and I still love it.

Tonight I will laze about, surfing the net, now that I have my high speed back for a day. Gods, I wish my parents would upgrade from dialup... *sigh*

But they are very techie in the sense that they record football games on a DVD recorder, but still have only 3 channels. I rigged the recorder to transfer some old movies from VHS to DVD. It worked well enough. I fit 'My Man Godfrey' and 'The Little Minister' on one DVD...two of my favorite movies. The same with Olivier's 'Wurthering Heights' and 'Enchantment' with David Niven and Teresa Wright. I even got 'Sunset Boulevard' on DVD from VHS!

So...something new.

I'm plagued by my monthly stalker else I would be setting up a rendezvous with someone tonight. Then again, I might try...feeling a bit feral at the moment.

Happy Holidays to all!

Snagged from W...just too fun.

2006-12-15T23:33:00.000-05:00

Bold indicates my own brand of fun.

I have had sex while wearing a blindfold.
I have blindfolded someone else during sex.
I have had sex while watching porn.
I have had sex while surfing porn on the Internet.
I sleep better after sex.
There are some nights I cannot sleep without sex or masturbating.
The bed is NOT my most favorite place to have sex.
I am turned on knowing someone is watching me masturbate.
I have masturbated for someone over a web cam.
I have had sex over a web cam.
I will have sex with someone I just met if they turn me on.
I have been tied up during sex.
I have had sex with someone who was tied up.
I have dripped wax onto a lover's body.
I have had a lover drip wax onto my body.
I have a foot fetish.
I have a leather fetish.
I have a tickle fetish.
I like being choked during sex. (The mood has to strike me)
I have had sex in a burning building.
I have erotic art on display somewhere in my residence.
I enjoy nudie magazines.
Erotic toys are a regular part of my budget.
I think PLAYBOY is tame, maybe even boring.
I have clicked on porn links in my email.
I know the difference between girl/girl and lesbian sex in porn.
I have watched more than one gay/lesbian porn video.
Much of what I know about sex comes from porn.
Interracial sex turns me on.
I think we should do more to understand the cultures of sex.
I would participate in sex research given the opportunity.
My current lover does not sufficiently meet my sexual needs.
I currently have a "crush" on someone of the same sex.
I have had sex at my place of employment.
I am often disappointed in my sexual relationships.
Some people might describe me as a nymphomaniac.
I am difficult to live with if I'm not having sex on a regular basis.
I sleep better with someone snuggled up next to me. (Never could sleep in close quarters with anyone)
I have had sex under water.
I have had sex in the snow. (in the rain, in a storm, in a car...)
I am in a polyamorous relationship. (nope...lots of poly, not much amory)
I have to have music playing while having sex. (it is fun, but not necessary)
I have had more than ten orgasms in one night. (and I have lived to see the next day)
I have flashed strangers.
I have given sex as a gift. (because I'm a hot commodity...haha)
I have set-up a three-way for my lover.
I stopped during this list to have sex.

Wildwood Flower and others.

2006-12-15T23:11:00.000-05:00

WILDWOOD FLOWER

Oh, I'll twine with my mangels and waving black hair
With the roses so red and the lilies so fair
And the myrtle so bright with the emerald dew
The pale amanita and islip like blue

I will dance, I will sing, and my heart shall be gay
I will charm every heart, in his crown I will sway
When I woke from my dreaming my idol was clay
All portion of love had all flown away

Oh, he taught me to love him and promised to love
And to cherish me over all others above
How my heart is now wondering no misery can tell
He's left me no warning, no words of farewell

Oh, he taught me to love him and called me his flower
That was blooming to cheer him through life's dreary hour
Oh, I long to see him and regret the dark hour
He won and neglected this pale wildwood flower

--------------------

So, I've been on a Carter Family kick lately...good old music.

Wildwood Flower is the first song I ever learned to play on guitar, therefore it holds a special place in my black scab of a heart. *chuckle* My grandmother croons it sometimes, well, really only the second verse, the only one she can remember. But she can remember every word of this one:

BURY ME UNDER THE WEEPING WILLOW (II)

My heart is sad and I'm in sorrow
For the only one I love
When shall I see him, oh, no, never
Till I meet him in heaven above

Oh, bury me under the weeping willow
Yes, under the weeping willow tree
So he may know where I am sleeping
And perhaps he will weep for me

They told me that he did not love me
I could not believe it was true
Until an angel softly whispered
He has proven untrue to you

Oh, bury me under the weeping willow
Yes, under the weeping willow tree
So he may know where I am sleeping
And perhaps he will weep for me

Tomorrow was our wedding day
But, Lord, oh, where is he
He's gone to seek him another bride
And he cares no more for me

Oh, bury me under the weeping willow
Yes, under the weeping willow tree
So he may know where I am sleeping
And perhaps he will weep for me

Oh, bury me under the violets blue
To prove my love to him
Tell him that I would die to save him
For his love I never could win

Oh, bury me under the weeping willow
Yes, under the weeping willow tree
So he may know where I am sleeping
And perhaps he will weep for me

----------------

My grandmother and I are very close, and we talk about her life and the things she has done and seen. I was asking her the other day about the time she worked in the boarding houses in a place in West Virginia that is literally gone and forgotten now. She started work there when she was 14, and first met my grandfather there...they did not marry until 1951 and it was 1939 when she first met him... She told me that she had to ride the train, a bus of sorts, up the track to Jerryville (the now forgotten town that touted over 300 houses, a grocery store, a school, and was the first commuter destination for thousands of miner and loggers), and that there was no road to the town...at the headwaters of the Gauley River (some of the wildest whitewater on the East Coast). The whole river valley, from headwaters down about 20 miles was mined and logged...all by local folk and immigrants. And I can imagine my little grandmother working every day in the boarding house, cooking meals for hundreds of miners a day, washing out 'dinner buckets' that were left on the porch and packing them for miners to have for a meal. She told me stories about the women she worked with and the silly things they talked about. She told me that she started smoking when she worked in the boarding house and how in the winters the 'bus' couldn't run and she and some of the other girls would ride up in the cab of the engine with the engineer. She laughed saying that she never liked to ride with the loggers in the boxcars since they smelled... I asked her what they smelled like and she giggled... BO and god knows what else. Miners always washed after coming out of the mines, so they were clean...

Pictured above is my grandmother probably about 10 years after working at the boarding house.

I love hearing the stories about my grandmother's life. She has had a hard life, but one full of life's lessons. She turned 81 last month and she's still going. I will hate the day when I know I will not be able to talk to her. Of all the people in my life and in my family, my grandmother is one of the most precious.

The woes of womanhood

2006-12-15T00:56:00.000-05:00

Sometimes I think women got the raw end of the deal in traditional creationist theories. But I really think it is just hard being female, period.

Women are the ones who carry children, are the ones who have to go through menopause, sink or sag after menopause, and have to deal with all sorts of other nasty things. Me...it is a crampy and painful period...or a bladder infection. I have never really ever been so sick that I had to stay in the hospital...and the first time I was ever admitted was in the past year. But my reoccurring maladies have usually included an ear infection or UTI. Knock on wood, I haven't had an ear infection since just before I studied in Italy going on two years ago, but once again, I have an UTI. Grr. And I know why...sex...intermittant sex.

This sounds so crude, but it IS my life, therefore I blog and bitch. One of the givens during sex is the relentless battering of a woman's bladder. It can be a direct battering due to angle, or indirect, again due to angle or position. But I suppose enough battering can make that fickle organ ache. Sex in the week previous to an UTI increases the chance of an UTI 9 fold...for various reasons and with various methods of causality. Spermicides and some lubes can cause UTI and other infections...lubes with glycol (sugar based) can cause yeast infections...nasty business... At any rate, I have one, and I'm heading over to the Uni. Health Services for antibiotics and perhaps something a little stronger than my acetaminophen. Ugh.

In a year I get at most two UTIs, this year, I have only had this one. I usually take cranberry supplements which kill bad bacteria in the digestive and urinary tracts, and I started taking some just when I felt that little tinge of pain...didn't catch it in time though...bugger.

I guess I am a little bitter that women have to deal with so much shite. Pap smears, UTIs, yeast infections, painful periods, menopause, osteoporosis, breast cancer...increased rates of heart disease over men...the list goes on and on. It almost seems too unfair.

Granted, I love being a woman, but I could do without all the health issues.

On the bright side, I suppose, men have their problems as well...increased colon cancer, all sorts of prostate problems, ED...um hm... Ah, but men can still be fertile up into their 70s and women usually drop off the board between 40-60. Ugh. I am not looking forward to menopause, the only highlight being that I no longer have to keep stock in Tampax or Always up!

....

Off to drink a pool full of water...and pee in a cup at 2 pm. Joy...

Visual delight - a movie wrap up.

2006-12-14T15:02:00.000-05:00

Thought I would do some of the movies I have viewed and/or bought this year... I really did not go to the theatre much in 2006...actually, I cannot remember if I went to the theatre at all! But there were several films I did catch on DVD or bought.

Some films are older, but are new to my movie collection...

-The Chronicles of Riddick (2 disc Special Ed set with Pitch Black, Dark Fury and Chronicles of Riddick - a fantastic buy!)
-Matrix Reloaded and Revolutions (I bought these 2 movies for $4 a piece at Wallie world)
-V for Vendetta
-The DaVinci Code (only to see Paul Bettany...whom I love)
-Howl's Moving Castle (Go Ghibli!)
-Sense and Sensibility (With Emma Thompson, Kate Winslet and Alan Rickman)
-Blue Velvet (Pabst Blue Ribbon!)
-Last Temptation of Christ
-Love, Actually
-The X-files Mythology sets (I own all 4 now...)
-Quills (Marquis de Sade, semi-historically accurate, but good nonetheless)
-The Libertine
-What's Eating Gilbert Grape? Special Edition
-Sketches of Frank Gehry (Sydney Pollack documentary on the fantastic architect)
-The Appalachians (documentary shown on PBS)
-3 Extremes (3 Asian Directors...3 Horror films...MUST SEE!)
-The Watcher in the Woods (70s Disney film I loved as a child...with Bettie Davis)
-Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire DVD
-North by Northwest (finally watched it, borrowed from a friend)
-Pride and Prejudice
-Superman Returns (Believe it or not, it was a good film...not canon with the comic, but good)
-Wild at Heart (was just on my To Watch list...just finished it. Eh, I loved Isabella Rossolini's characters and the Crispin Glover cameo...and the music.)

Not too many, eh?

Well, here's a list of movies I WANT to see, some yet to be released:

-Who Killed the Electric Car? (documentary)
-An Inconvenient Truth (I lurve you Al Gore...)
-The Fountain
-Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix
-We Are Marshall (one of my alma maters)
-Children of Men (Clive Owen *drool* my sister just told me about this...and now I want to see it as well!)
-Pan's Labyrinth
-Hannibal Rising (4th installment of Hannibal Lector...his early years.)
-Tales of Earthsea (Ghibli)
-Chronicle of Narnia: Prince Caspian (I'm almost pissing myself waiting for this one...such a fan!)

And there are many more I cannot recall. I just hope 2007 is a better year for films. I have been disappointed in the amount of BAD cinema this past year.

Symphonia...music as of late.

2006-12-13T23:58:00.000-05:00

I was talking to an online friend earlier today about end of the year lists...lists of good books, music, movies, etc for 2006. This list can include older things...only first viewed or acquired in the past year.

For example, The Carter Family 12 disc set I downloaded...recorded between 1927 and 1940, and released in 1996 I think.

So, a musial wrapup of sorts...something to help me get a bit sleepier...

Songs/Artists/Albums

-The Carter Family - In the Shadow of Clinch Mountain 12 CD set - Fantastic
-TV on the Radio - Return to Cookie Mountain (album) - Yum.
-Cat Power - song: The Greatest...
-Gary Numan - albums: Pure and Jagged
-Loreena McKinnit - New Album
-The Mars Volta - New Album (Almost as great as Deloused in the Comatorium)
-The Decemberists - New Album (Better than Picaresque IMHO)
-Q Lazzarus - song: Good Bye Horses Remix from Clerks II soundtrack (would you fuck me, I'd fuck me...)
-Django Reinhardt Chronology Series...6 CDs (can you say orgasm?)
-The Apparitions - song: God Monkey Robot (hell yeah!)
-Bloc Party - Silent Alarm
-Camera Obscura - song: If Looks Could Kill
-Clinic - Visitations
-Coldplay - song: Talk remix (lurve)
-Death Above 1979 - Romance Bloody Romance
-The Dresden Dolls - ALL OF IT!!! (Bloody Brilliant!)
-Editors - In the Back Room
-Gorgol Bordello - song: Start Wearing Purple
-Goldfrapp - New Album
-Hard Fi - Stars of CCTV (love the accent)
-I Love You but I've Chosen Darkness - song: According to Plan
-Idiom of Sad - ALL SONGS (I love you Devi, Get Well soon!)
-Interpol...(carry over from 2 years before...but I love them)
-Juliette & the Licks (I love Juliette Lewis.)
-Louis XIV - Best Little Secrets are Kept
-Maximo Park - A Certain Trigger
-Ok Go - songs: Here it Goes Again, Oh Lately It's so Quiet, Let it Rain
-The Postal Service - Give Up (Thanks to J)
-Rock Kills Kid
-Scarling - songs: Alexander the Burn Victim and Crispin Glover
-She Wants Revenge
-Shiny Toy Guns
-Stellastarr* - ALL OF IT!!! (yum, mummy likes!)
-Swanlake - song: All Fires (a song about me)
-Tenacious D....yep.
-Thom Yorke - The Eraser
-The Wedding Present - Take Fountain

And that's about it! Great year in music, although there were some disappointments.

Oh fiddlesticks, why can't this have been my 100th post?

2006-12-13T22:49:00.000-05:00

I cannot even attempt to lie on my bed...it is coated with huge spots of girl essence and goo.

Two weeks of sexual frustration has been vented, praise whatever power or none.

Tonight, which it is still before 11, consisted of one hellacious bout of fucking. Just the thought of the fact that I COULD vent my sexual frustrations makes me inconsolably happy.

I had my one and only final today...couldn't remember an architect's name for one of the questions, but I am confident I passed with a low A. Came home with a meatball sub...at about 3. Shite sub. Did a little bit of cleaning and took a long nap. Awoke at 7 and called the Sergeant to confirm plans for dinner. Took a shower, fixed my hair, put on a little makeup and waited.

Had a lite sushi dinner...split the bill...came back to my place where I was immediately attacked by a very amorous Sergeant. Had to slow it down a bit lest I lose every stitch of clothing in the kitchen. After a drink, a trip to the bathroom and a quick look the mirror to see if I had any seaweed flakes stuck in my teeth, I finally allowed all my clothing to be removed...even my heavy wool socks as the Sergeant went to his knees in the kitchen to slip them off...running fingers over my inner knee. I wished I had had a chance to shave my legs a bit better.

Retired to the bedroom where we romped a bit, kissing and laughing...me with a glass of wine, he with that shy grin that I am beginning to know more and more.

As has become ritual, he manhandled me and twisted my limbs so that he could attack my clit. It took me a while to warm up to it for some reason, but soon I was enjoying it immensely. I returned the favor, relishing the fact that I could practice my talents. I do love giving head to the Sergeant...paying attention to the large head and the thick shaft...taking his balls into my mouth and applying suction...taking almost his entire length into my little mouth.

I was quickly manhandled again and penetrated. It hurt...it actually hurt. I was wet enough, but I guess all those Kegel muscle exercises I do have finally paid off...I was tight and I felt it.

He rode me for only a few minutes and quickly came. He apologized, but it didn't matter...I was just getting warmed up. I let him doze a bit while I went to the bathroom and got another glass of wine. I teased him, kissing and nipping at his chest. He has the most fantastic chest hair, which I may have mentioned once before. I love to curl my fingers into it when we drift off to sleep at nights.

Finally I crawled under the covers and took him into my mouth again...basically licking off all the latex taste from his cock...I do not like that much, but what can a girl do?

He suggested we try some anal...I was not up for it and reminded that that act was by appointment only...and as of yet, he has to make an appointment. To which he smirked and called me a smart-ass. I mentioned there were many things yet to try... So far, because of our sporadic coupling, we have not had time or motivation to go beyond primal fucking. Which is fine, but there are a slew of things I would love the Sergeant to try. Such as a bit of lite BDSM (but I doubt he would ever want to hurt me...he is very kind and loaded with a bit of baggage...maybe something to try later on.), and some roleplaying...which he would be excellent at being an actor.

One of the things that I do enjoy about having a strictly casual relationship of sorts with the man is the fact that we CAN have fun...laugh and joke...and not feel self conscious. He actually admitted to me that he had not slept with any one else, which surprised me. I have only slept with one other person...but that is not from lack of trying.

At any rate, we had a reprise which proved to be so intense that I cannot lay on my bed.

He took me in my favorite position...on all fours...doggystyle. He pushed my head down while I tried to arch up...an action that always pushes me closer to cumming. He pounded me...hard. My hips and ass literally ache now...and my thighs are quivering still. I came...hard...and sprayed instead of my usual squirt. I don't think I have ever come so hard with the Sergeant...and I don't think I literally squirted with my ex...hm...not going to ask, so oh well...

He rolled me so that I took the upper hand, and in my lust fogged brain I rode him roughly. I growled in his ear that his sexual frustration paled in comparison to mine. I admitted that I had wanted to fuck him last week, but didn't bother calling since I was a bit upset with his antics the last time we had met.

I wanted to growl all sorts of obscenities into his cute ear...how I wanted him to fuck me, how I wanted him to dominate me and make me sob and cry for his cock...how I wanted to have his tongue up my arse, rimming me with the same subtle practice he uses with my pussy. But I didn't...I didn't want to push it too far.

But all of those thoughts made me cum again, riding his cock and twisting my hips widdershins in a lovely circle of muscular practice of my abs and hips. He nearly came...his face folding and shadowing, his hazel eyes peering blindly through his lashes up at my face...past my breasts and rippling belly.

I ended up on my back again, pulled away from the wall as he sunk into me again. I could feel the dampness on the fronts of his thighs...from me. And I could feel the dampness between my own thighs...again, from my ever overflowing cunt. I came two more times as he drilled into me, sweat dripping off his forehead and onto my cheeks. He sweats...using every bit of himself to fill me...and I love it.

I kept squeezing him, squirting every time I came...thus the damp bed. And it seemed like forever before he came with a strangled shout... I was chanting obscenities...yay.

He came, and it took a long moment for him to pull out of me. He is so much bigger than I am that I was pressed down into the bed, feeling so insignificant compared to his wide shoulders and muscular body...I like the feeling.

The second time he pulled out of me, my pussy once again clamped down on the condom, pulling it halfway off his spent cock. He didn't come as much, I noticed. I think I was really asking a lot of him for a reprieve...the first time the condom quite full. If anything, I spent him totally...drawing every bit of cum from his body.

I was overwhelmed...so tired...still tired and sore. We talked for a bit while we dressed, he was unable to stay the night. I wished him a happy Christmas, if I did not see him before hand, and the same with New Years. I then realized...it was a line from American Psycho... *smile* But it goes to show how our relationship is...casual but intense...filled with friendship and lust....

I will miss the Sergeant a bit over the holidays. I have no plans other than to go home and visit the folks. As for New Years...who the fuck knows.

I just know that the fall semester is over...finally...I got a great lay...and I am waiting for the window fan to help dry out the bed. Or I could just change it...but there's something so comforting about sleeping a night in a wet bed... Someone wants me and I want them...it is only physical, but it is more than enough for me at this point in my life.

The Sergeant is heading to NY for a few days to visit with some buddies, and I wished him a safe trip. I am not in love with man, but I do care. We would never have a traditional relationship and that works for me...for the moment. I wish it would work better for him...he is so new to the concept of the 'casual' relationship methinks. But it is starting to work for him. He is sweet.

At any rate, I know I'll sleep well tonight. Tomorrow I have a few things to take care of and then I'm out of here.

Happy Hols to all who read this...I know someone does.

lack of a suitable title line...100th post.

2006-12-12T18:38:00.000-05:00

One final Wednesday, and the semester is officially over. Now plans for the holidays will consume my thoughts...I suppose.

Christmas will be a small time even this year. My sister now married, my parents still footing the bills for the wedding in August, and my fixed income will lend to a small...very small gift exchange. Of course, it is not about gifts, it is the family communion...the fun, the time spent talking and joking...and having a wonderful Christmas meal.

I am basically burning CDs for everyone...stuff I pirate and can get where my family cannot... I am burning a 12 disc set of the complete recordings of The Carter Family for my grandmother...and am enjoying listening to it myself. For my sister...a few soundtracks and albums. For my mum...I haven't decided. For my dad...I will probably just find a good DVD for him and actually spend a little bit of money. No boyfriends to buy for, which is nice on my wallet.

I got a haircut Sunday and have been reduced to only about an inch of hair at the longest on my head. I look like a boy... Personally, I like it, albeit a little shorter than I would have liked...but it is so much easier. I would take a picture and post it, but the batteries have died in my camera and I do not have replacements. I can wash and dry it in no time...and I can style it easily.

I think I will probably keep my hair short for a good while... Long hair makes my face look too full...and I cannot do much with it besides pull it up. My hair is so thick and so heavy that I give myself headaches if I pull my hair up too often or for too long. No to mention I will not shed so much.

Bleh...what a crummy 100th post.

Thing which inspire happiness?

2006-12-09T12:46:00.000-05:00

I'm getting ready to head out of town for a few days...I am basically done with the semester except for one final on Wednesday. It is not going to be too difficult, I am sure, so I'm not too worried about it.

We have been seeing some snow on and off for the past few days, and that makes me extremely happy. I love winter, I love snow, I love cold...the only thing I do not like...not having boots with tread thus forcing me to risk my life and ass everytime I go out into the ice and snow.

I am going to buy a good pair of snow/winter boots this year...probably from L.L. Bean...

Things that make me happy...besides snow at the moment and being done with the semester...Crispin Hellion Glover makes me happy. He's starring in the newest spoof 'Epic Movie' (like Scary Movie...only spoofing Harry Potter, Narnia, Willy Wonka...etc). He seems so creepy dressed as Willy Wonka...that it put a huge grin on my face...

Went out to dinner with my sister last night. She will finally be starting work on the 18th at the University Hospital now that she has her RN. I am very happy for her...she's finally putting everything she has learned to practice...and will always be making more money that me...(not so happy moment)

Personally, I'm looking forward to the next semester...two lectures and research hours...planning trips to Philly and NYC and possibly Rochester. SEACAC is also going to be in Charleston this coming fall...which is propitious for myself...yeah. It is almost time to start the conference circuit...

Bleh.

Anyway, I'm out of here...and I love driving so...ignore the girly squeals of joy.

The end is in sight!

2006-12-06T17:59:00.000-05:00

Monday I turned in my last big assignment for the semester and had my last grad meeting today. *sigh* This hellish semester is almost over and by the gods I am sooo glad.

My phone rang in the middle of the meeting...which I immediately silenced. This friend was apparently stranded somewhere after a night of binge drinking...I had no sympathy for him after interrupting my meeting. Damn phone...it never rings when you want it to and when it does ring it is at the most inoppurtune moment... Like the ex calling me out of the blue as I was unlocking my door and carrying a bunch of things into the flat. Ugh. He wants to give me back some discs that I haven't thought of in a very long time...I am almost apathetic about it...really now.

Going to eat a bit, take a shower, watch something, write something...sleep. Yay!

An interlude.

2006-11-27T22:36:00.000-05:00

Baked cupcakes...major stress reliever in so many ways. Red velvet cake with strawberry icing = sugar coma.

Went over to my sister's for dinner. My brother in law, always frugal, bought a 8 lb. turkey on sale...so again, turkey. I came home with a smoked cajun cod, one of my empty dishes, and a window fan. It is now deliciously cold in my bedroom, just the way I like it! Now I can settle into the quilts and comforters of my bed and sleep well. This is the perfect temperature for me as a general rule...cold enough to want to burrow down into bed, preferably with a warm body next to mine. Alas...

I feel very content, paper done, cool air blowing from outside, diet orange soda, a full belly...just overall sated.

Makes me want to have dreams about robots, sex, and rock n roll.

resipiscent - (adj.) - restored to sanity; learned from experience

2006-11-27T11:58:00.000-05:00

Women, in general, can be the silliest creatures, myself included.

As I mentioned quite blatantly in the last post, I finished my last paper for the semester, a paper entitled "Duchamp's Étant Donnés and Freud's Erosion of Censorship." Basically the thesis is an analysis of Duchamp's symbolism in connection with Freud's dream-symbolism and how Duchamp's portrayal of the female form has a close relationship of the female figure in Freud's psychosexual development models...basically how Duchamp buys into the Surrealist take on Freud.

The "Erosion of Censorship" is a phrase I constructed to define what the Surrealists were trying to do by tapping into the unconscious...eroding the self made forms of censorships that is the cause of repression of essential "id truths." By eroding ones censorship, a person can come to terms with their unconscious desires and decide what to do with these desires...act upon them or discard them...or eliminate them from the ego/id by means of psychoanalysis.

Personally, I do not buy into Freud too much. I do agree that there are unconscious desires that one should probably bring onto the conscious plane. One must be able to switch off the superego and come to terms with the instinctual beast that is the id.

So, that monstrosity of a paper is done. I need to refine a few points, and print it off. I am skipping out today because I really am not ready to get back into the swing of things yet. Currently, I have a male sleeping on my couch. I would love very much to pounce on him, but I don't think that would go over too well.

This morning, I was roused by horrible noises of scratching, hammering, etc. I ignored it for the most part, until the sounds began to permeate my dreams, distorting them strangely. Upon waking, I realized that men are replacing the roofing on my apartment building, and I happen to live on the top floor... Ugh.

Today, I plan on working a bit on perfecting the paper, baking cupcakes, watching movies and being an overall slacker. I think I have earned it, cranking out a paper in 2 days and living to tell the tale. I also have some books to return, and others to pick up. Now is the time to begin gathering things in for Masters thesis...yippee... My followup Grad Committee meeting is on Dec. 6, and I need to type up a little something about where I can go to few Blake's work in person... I might end up going to the Pierpont Morgan Library, possibly... It is a matter of knowing who talk to and who to get to write me letters of recommendation.

I started looking at the University of Rochester and their Ph.D. program in Visual and Cultural studies. I also took a peek at the University of Virginia and their very new PhD. program...and then University of NC at Chapel Hill...and whether pursuing a dissertation with Blake might be feasible. UR looks much more interesting...Janet Berlo is there...I love Native American Art History, but whether to actually study it with Dr. Berlo is iffy. *sigh*

I really need to get out of Morgantown, as much as I love it...it is stifling in so many ways.

Last night, the Sergeant came over after work. I was expecting him to say that he was no longer interested in being friends or lovers...and all sorts of silliness... We talked. He told me that he had felt obligated in some strange way to pursue a relationship...a deeper realtionship with me, and that by misunderstanding he felt that I was pushing him into feeling this sense of obligation...

Utter nonsense. Goes to show you how men and women can miscommunicate.
I entertain many notions in my fetid little mind, but rarely do I act or voice them. I am the sort of person who will analyse a situation to see as many possibilities as possible... (har har) It is my cautious nature, perhaps. I am a pessimist, but I am also a logical realist. I entertain many fanciful notions, out of sheer amusement, but when all is said and done, I am almost robotic in my logic and methodology.

I will admit that I entertained notions of what it could be like in a serious relationship with the Sergeant, but will it happen...no. He admitted that as much as he would like to have a relationship he also mentioned that: "I would not be much good to you." I respect this honesty. And I understand it completely. We have both come from ending serious, long-term relationships, and as much as we enjoy each other, we are not looking to save each other, or entertain a relationship beyond friendship and sex.

I wish we could have spoken a bit more about this...this notion, but it ended up with us taking a shower and fucking like rabbits...talking a while afterwards and drifting off to sleep...

I would have liked to tell him so many things... But I did tell him that I was sorry if I came off as wanting to develop something more than what we have. I would have liked to tell him that I was not meaning to pressure him, even unconsciously, into anything more than a good time. Nothing too deep, nothing that we couldn't laugh at. Perhaps it is as simple as this...he likes me...likes my company...and is developing a feeling deeper than just liking...and it bothers him since he is finally free of a long-term relationship. He does not want to settle.

I do not feel offended. I will not settle either. However, I do like his company, and just because there are itchings toward a deeper emotion than simple carnal pleasure and enjoyment, does not mean that we should avoid each other. I want to be great friends, first and foremost...and if the sex no longer interests us, we can still enjoy each other's company on a more ceoreberal level.

I have friends, male friends, who I have slept with casually, and am still great friends with. Then again, I have others who I had slept with and never spoken to again...it depends on the person and my mindset at the time.

I could easy "fall in love" with the Sergeant, he has many wonderful qualities, but I will not allow myself. "Falling in love" is just not realistic in practice, and I know myself...I will eventually grow bitter from feeling some overwhelming obligation to stay "in love." Been there, done that, hated it, never want to do it again.

I told the Sergeant that I would never give myself to any one without some very stringent guarntees... Of course, when it comes to relationships and people, there are not certainities.

But I would want security (emotional, sexual and financial), honesty, and freedom. An open relationship built on strong friendship with the added perk of being able to get my brains fucked out by this person when the time was right.

I had read about a man in an "open relationship" with his wife...granted, I wouldn't necessarily marry anyone...ever...but he was great friends with his wife, she pursued other men, he, other women...but they never brought their lovers into their home, and never stayed overnight with lovers. At the end of the day, the couple would return to their mutual home, talk about their relationships with lovers if they liked, and slept in the same bed, enjoying each other and the fact that there was freedom. Their sex life was healthy, both practiced safe sex with their lovers, but reserved themselves for each other... No jealousy, no suspicion, no confrontation.

Is that sort of arragement a fantasy? hm...

If I felt jealous at all about the Sergeant, it probably had to do with him not spending time with me...avoiding me. He could fuck whomever he liked and I wouldn't care one bit, but I would care if he were avoiding me for long periods of time, not bothering to call to chat, not wanting to see me in a more social setting like I were something to be ashamed of... That is what I do not like. I love sex, but it is not everything there is... *gasp* Did I just say that? *giggle*

Ah well... It comes down to the matter of me being comfortable with myself, doesn't it? I was freaking out for nothing, for which I am grateful.

As for the sex...it was nothing too exciting. Sounds awful, doesn't it? It seems that most of my visits with the Sergeant start off with a shower, a very hot shower with much fondling, much smiling, much licking and kissing. I don't mind at all, really. I am comfortable with my body for the most part, and I find the Sergeant attractive although he grumbles about being a "hairy beast." I don't mind at all, I rather like to curl my fingers into his chest hair after sex...it is soothing.

To bed we went, kissing and touching. I always love how the Sergeant has an oral fixation with my clit...and I was doubly surprised when he added his fingers to the mix...penetrating me gently at first. When my vaginal walls would squeeze or push his fingers out, he would force them back in, making me squeal with pre-orgasmic delight. His two fingers felt so large, a bit uncomfortable at first, but I was excreteing 'girl goo,' and they moved smoothly in and out of my cunt. With his tongue on my clit, his fingers in my pussy, I came and came and came... I had to grin when he climbed back up my body, a bit of goo dripping from his gorgeous chin. I wanted to lick it off, but he wouldn't let me...

Always mindful of reciprocation, I gladly went down on his beautifully large cock, relishing his grunts, growls and groans. He was close when he pushed me away gently, and quickly manhandled me, reaching for the box full o' condoms just under the edge of the bed. I think I mentioned that I like how he 'manhandled' me. Twisting my body so that my knees were pressed on either side of my head, he sank into me, eliciting a groan from us both.

Fucking...ensued. *cackle* I, at one point, rode him, my body moving so that my back (which is always oddly cracking when I undulate my body) cracked, my hips torqued, my breasts bounced and I felt like a Valkeryie. Alternating speed, I came once, choking on my own breath. In this pause, I was flipped back down to the bed, my knees over the Sergeant's shoulders, being pounded to leo petit morte... When he came, I grinned at the sound of his voice, his swearing and the sweat dripping from his face to mine.

So much energy expended, the room was broiling hot. We drank some water, wiped down, he disposed of a very full condom and I was shivering, my muscles twitching post-coitally.

Not too boring after all, but very straight forward...no elaboration, no deviation from the norm...and I have so much to show him yet.

*sigh*

Ignore the spelling errors, Blogger is being a bitch.

Shall we celebrate...or try to look happy at least?

2006-11-26T18:59:00.000-05:00

Sing praises to your respective god, gods, or lack of gods, the paper is finally done!

I have just one last look through and I will print the fucker and think no more of it. I do have presentations to do for it and the Gropius paper, but I am not going to think about that now...tomorrow perhaps...probably last minute if I look at my planner.

Went grocery shopping for the bare necessities, bought the Matrix REloaded for $4. wow.

I am going to eat a little for dinner, possibly a bowl of cereal...hehe, take a long shower, and await whatever bad news I am going to get from the Sergeant. Talk about anxiety...geesh.

humicubation - (n.) - lying on the ground in penitence

2006-11-25T21:47:00.000-05:00

It is funny how moods can shift, and moments of near euphoria can take over at unexpected moments. I really must be suffering from some imbalance.

I sit on my doorstep quite often, sometimes to smoke a cigar, sometimes just to be outside in the cool air. Last night I saw several shooting stars...meteorites in truth, and I began thinking of all the mysteries that are beyond my petty existence. Sometimes the vastness of time and space frighten me, but more often than not, it humbles and calms me.

My self image is something of a conundrum to me at this point. I am no raving beauty, but I get caught looking at the colors in the irises of my eyes...brown, green, specks of gold and black. It makes me think of a time when I was a child, pondering of my own reflection...wondering 'is this who I am?' A very zen moment at a very young age. I began to distrust my reflection, my other self, as something inaccurate and false. A disconnect from reality, perhaps, or simply wondering if my senses are fallible and I am seeing something totally fantastic and constructed to fulfill the need for light to bounce between the surface of my body and the reflective surface... I do not think that is me in the mirror, even now.

The question is then, "Who am I?"

Tough question...and one that can never be answered.

My eye sight is failing me again, five years after having surgery on those orbs...I wonder if I am seeing things correctly. I am really becoming blind, aren't I?

Do I see myself as others see me after all?

There is something I want, and I know I am going to have to go somewhere else rather than here, to find it. How frustrating.

Working...

2006-11-25T15:10:00.000-05:00

Well, half the paper is done, illustrations ready, cover page done, bibliography done...yay!

Currently about 15,000 people are sitting the stadium across the street, cheering for the Mountaineers. I hate to look outside...too many people.

I did not sleep well last night, it was far too hot for some strange reason. I arose at 7.30, scraped a heavy coat of frost off my car and went down the street for breakfast, a half gallon of skim milk and some soda...tomorrow is shopping day. I sat down and wrote have the paper from scratch, I plan to finish it up tomorrow.

In the meantime, I think I will sit on my couch and watch X-files. I have all 4 box sets of the Mythology arc, all of which I love, and I'm currently on box 3, the Abduction arc. hm...

I am wondering what will happen tomorrow night, I cannot help but think I will be told I am no longer desired, wanted or needed as a friend or occasional lover. It would be alright, of course, I am still in no mood for serious attachments, but it will still hurt a little, methinks. An ego crusher. Of course, I am a pessimist, but since things have really been odd as of late, I have every reason to be... It will probably be 'it's me, not you,' type things...but then again...it could be me...

I wonder sometimes if I am so reprehensible...and only a person a mother could love after all...

off to zone out for a while...

Later...

it feels like my chest is about to cave in. I know this feeling all too well, and it does not bode well with me. Time to start thinking of something to do to keep from melting down. There is no safe place to fall, no person to be a sounding board, no sympathetic ear...all me, all alone, most of the time...

I hate this feeling, absolutely hate it. My heart is shrinking and my chest is caving in. Another nice gash to the insides, another wound to try to heal...

bugger...

To be thankful...or not.

2006-11-24T18:33:00.000-05:00

Drove back up to Morgantown today and I enjoyed the orange late November sunlight most of the way. But now that I am here, I have to decide whether to start writing on the last paper tonight or to just relax. Honestly, I am in the mood to drown my petty sorrows and perhaps kill myself with liver failure.

Thanksgiving was a nice little break, a good time with my little family.

I am surprised I did not binge eat like I usually do when I go home for the holidays. I have really been feeling strange, no real appetite to speak of, and a certain wander-lust that kept me outside most the time while at my parent's house.

I am thankful for my family, as small as it is... My mum and dad, my sister and brother-in-law. My grandmother who opted out of the holiday cheer and even my white trash uncle. I am thankful that I can move about as I please and that I am alive to see Thanksgiving this year. I am thankful that I have a nice, yet small, apartment and food to eat...thankful that I am not drowning in debt...thankful I am learning something new everyday.

Things I am not so thankful for...being the odd man out at the dinner table. It is strange. Nevermind. I am not thankful for loneliness from time to time. I am not thankful for my procrastination. I am not thankful for the soldiers being picked off day after day in a war for oil.

I received only one warm holiday wish. Just goes to show who my friends are, eh? I tried calling most of the people in my address book...a ritual I take every year at Thanksgiving...people I have not seen in a long while, or people I see everyday...and just thank them for putting up with my shinanigans.

I am depressed, period. I need to write this fucking paper, and I need to get laid...thoroughly fucked until I cannot see straight...release some tension and revel in the fact that I had been thoroughly fucked. hehe.

I need to restock my fridge, which is embarrassingly bare. And settle in for the game tomorrow against So. Florida. I wonder if it is going to be hectic tomorrow, or if the holidays are going to keep people out of town for the rest of the weekend.

Later...

I have been thinking lately, a strange cyclic thought of conspiracy.

I have not seen the Sergeant lately, and today he actually returned my call. I really like the guy, I like being with him, but I know that it would never work out for various reasons. I am not a social creature, I am not the sort of person that most men would probably want to be around for an extended amount of time, and I am not the sort of person who will bend their will to suit another person...

I was wrong to think I could have a lover for any reason or any amount of time. There...I said it. I am not in the right frame of 'life' to have any sort of relationship right now. Too much shite to do...too many things to consider, to decide upon, and/or waste time doing.

On the dorky upside of the day...Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix trailer has been released.

*snort*

gnathonic - (adj.) - falsely flattering; fawning; sycophantic; parasitic

2006-11-18T13:45:00.000-05:00

Pictured right is a button from Evolvefish that I definitely want to buy.

Even though Dems have won the House and Senate, we are still waiting for January for something to happen. In the meantime, the wheel of propaganda, idiocy, lies and misinformation continues to spin.

In truth, I have been avoiding really reading or listening too much into the death of democracy lately. Papers...which I still have one to write.

This past week saw me getting off my meds, making it through my first official Grad Committee meeting with a bit of hope, the due date of one of two papers, the arrival of my monthly red stalker, and the beginning of the end of this rough semester.

Of course, this past week has been a bit more interesting than usual for my snarky disposition and my sudden outburst of maniacal expletives when it came to my work-study underlings fucking up my system... To elaborate: My assistantship requires me to work setting up the Digital Database for the University...scanning images from slides, books, etc., adding data to these images and uploading them to the software that runs the DB. Tedious process in which I must physically number slides, physically scan them, manipulate (mostly basic color correction), and add or construct data to identify these images with searchable terms.

So, one of my underlings decided to get overly ambitious and begin doing MY job...which I must say is quite boring and strangely rewarding...but I have it perfected into a system of succinct steps...quite flawless if I say so myself. This gal wants my job for some reason, and if it just paid a little less than it does, I would gladly give it to her...but it pays just enough...and I want to keep it. Needless to say, she is not me...and has no clue as to the system I have constructed...instead of looking clever and me patting her cute bottle blond head, she made an ass of herself and fucked up a big chunk of slide info and numbering.

That'll teach you to be ambitious around me...

It resulted in me scrambling to fix things. I did not have a chance to confront her personally, but I literally wrote a note telling her how to fix things...making it clear that her ambitious enthusiasm was not appreciated at this point in time.

ugh.

Grad committee meeting went well. Slowly, the process of working my way out of here is coming to the forefront of my mind.

I was talking with my sister who is stressing over her board exams on Monday...telling her that her Board exam was comparable to my Masters thesis...my ticket to the next step in life...my ticket out of here.

I have been feeling very restless...even though I love this town, this state...I almost feel as if I will not find exactly what I want if I linger long.

Sexually, I have been restraining myself from turning into the uber odd dominatrix that lurks under the surface. The 'I want to fuck and I want to fuck right now' sentiment has been pushed aside since I cannot function intellectually (or very well intellectually) with the that sentiment floating about my conscious...I have another paper to write...and other things to do. So, my randiness is being siphoned off little by little with intense sessions of masturbation. I just do not have the time to pursue anyone...more important things to do at the moment.

Although...I am thinking that I might be a little more than interested with hooking up with an old friend of mine, whom I have not seen in almost a year. This fellow is perhaps one of the most beautiful people I have ever met. He just finished up his Masters in Psychology and is working a decent job just 45 minutes north of here... He gave me a call last week, and this week has been sending me teasing and sweet text messages... We really do not have too much in common besides knowing what Grad school is like at WVU, and we met rather randomly last year. He is very active, I am not... In fact, I am feeling rather bloated and grungy...shower later...scalding temperature.

At any rate, this friend of mine...he is worth a thought or two. If not for something more physical, at least for a nice time...

While catching up on the phone, he asked about my ex. The last time we had gotten together, the ex was still off at training...and when talking to my friend I was missing the ex. My friend is very sympathetic, a fantastic counsellor (of course that is what he does), and really a kind soul. I informed my friend that the relationship had died and I was currently free of any lasting attachment. I did not go into great detail, but I told my friend that I was not interested in anything more than a good time with men, simple arrangements, much shagging, and a laugh or two... I am not in the mood for anything serious...even now, and perhaps for now on.

*sigh*

Anyway, I am sitting around, enjoying the fact that I can sit around for a while. Thanksgiving is going to be a rather subdued holiday, like most holidays in my life. Planning on heading south to visit the mountains and the parents for a while...and working all the while on the last paper for the semester. I also plan on enjoying the cool weather and venturing into the woods. I need that reconnect with my mother soil...a recharging, as I think I have mentioned before.

In the meantime...butternut squash soup sounds good for a cool day. yum.

So much, so little...

2006-11-11T22:07:00.000-05:00

Today we salute our vets, with us still or gone.

I called my father, who is a Vietnam vet and thanked him. My dad went to tell me that he attended his local Veteran's Day parade and commemoration. While talking with him, his voice cracked a bit when he told me that he led the prayer at the local memorial monument, dressed in his suit with his ribbons displayed on his suit jacket.

I am very proud of my father. He was never drafted to go to Vietnam, he volunteered. He was a diesel mechanic on the river boats, and did two tours. He was combat wounded and was awarded the Purple Heart.

On the political front, Dems won the House AND the Senate! And to top it all off...Rummy resigned! Is that a sigh of relief I hear? I have been grinning all week.

I just hope that with this change, things can be fixed. I am keeping my fingers crossed that America somehow will save face on the global front, end this war in Iraq and Afghanistan, and quash the near Dark Age we were heading toward when it came to education our nation's children about a great many things.

As for me, I am exhausted. I have so many things lined up this coming week, and then I have a week off...yay! To be honest, I have been feeling quite lonely as of late, a bit unwanted, ignored or forgotten. *sigh*

Last night I did go out with my pal Rajeev, had a nice dinner, some good beer and listened to a fantastic band at Gibbies. I like Rajeev, he's always making me laugh...kinda like a brother figure or a close relative of a sort.

I need some inspiration, in truth, and a bit of a confidence boost. I also need to get laid. Been too busy to really prowl, or too tired, or too depressed. Ugh.

WVU won against Cincinnati, and we're number 3 again!

A point of interest

2006-10-31T22:34:00.000-05:00

I just stumbled upon a Time piece today, which really wrenched my heart. The piece is entitled 'The Secret Letter from Iraq,' and it is an anonymous letter from a Marine.

My ex is an Iraq vet, and I have several close friends who have served in Iraq. I never press my friends about details or airing whatever baggage they may have, but things come out and it wrenches my heart to the point of breaking.

The world is a crazy place and war is a literally fucked up but somehow historically natural thing...and it kills me. War, whether a person is actively involved, living in a warzone, or is waiting at home for a loved one to come home...it kills us all, either literally or by killing us by breaking our spirits or hearts.

Two snippets from the letter that particularly got me:

Biggest Outrage — Practically anything said by talking heads on TV about the war in Iraq, not that I get to watch much TV. Their thoughts are consistently both grossly simplistic and politically slanted. Biggest Offender: Bill O'Reilly.

Worst Sound — That crack-boom off in the distance that means an IED or mine just went off. You just wonder who got it, hoping that it was a near miss rather than a direct hit. Hear it practically every day.

Support our troops, they are doing a job whether they believe in the 'cause' or not.

Pompeii brothels, sex, sex, and more sex.

2006-10-26T20:14:00.000-05:00

I was just reading to day on Yahoo! about the restoration of a brothel in Pompeii...including the fantastic frescoes that I have loved for ages. This brothel is now open to the public! Score one for sex in Pompeii. *chuckle*

Speaking of sex, one of my favorite subjects, I have put off blogging a bit since I have been pretty down in the mouth lately. I think part of my 'funk' was due to the fact that I had not 'gotten any' for over a week. I find that when I am particularly down, it usually has to do with my sexual frustrations or my lack of sex, etc.

Monday night consisted of me and what I should consider my primary lover (now...) enjoying some time together. After a long, hot shower, I was drying my hair when my lover knocked on the door with a six pack of beer and a smile. We talked for a bit while I dried my hair, sipping on some beer and watching a little TV. Of course, we got to talking about our interests in sex and my interest in porn. My lover admitted that a friend of his had given him some DVDs and he had them in his car. I laughed and said I wanted to see them. So, we walked down to retrieve them in the cold of the night. Popping in a German disc, we started watching.

I suppose I have watched so much porn that I have come off sounding like a film critic...my lover asked me if I enjoyed porn for porn's sake, and I admitted I did, but part of the fun and arousal involved had to do with my criticisms. Hard to explain in some ways, but he smiled. He admitted that he had not watched porn with a woman before, let alone had porn playing while having sex. I quirked my eye brow and smiled.

"Oh really?"

And he pounced, much to my amusement. I was wearing a heavy black linen skirt that I like to wear when it is particularly cold (sounds strange, but it is quite warm despite it being a skirt). At any rate, the skirt was pulled up and I was sprawled on my couch with my legs splayed and a dark head of hair between my thighs. The moans and slurps from myself and from the television was an interesting scene/sound, and I am sure that my neighbor who lives just behind my TV was rolling his eyes...

My lover lapped, licked, sucked, nibbled and kissed my skin, drank my juices and penetrated my pussy with his wicked tongue. I was in heaven...sheer heaven, and when I came the second time, I was in tears.

My couch definitely saw some action. Clothing was doffed and I was eaten out, kissed breathless, and caressed. I was dominated to a point, which I love, and soon I was pushed down to practice my oral talents.

I wonder, if polled, how many woman would admit to enjoying giving head. Personally I love to give head, almost as much as I like receiving it, but I do love having that modicum of power over a lover. My lover enjoys my talents, which is an ego boost for me, of course, but he enjoys penetrating my body even more so.

The first round (as crude as it sounds) consisted of him pounding me down into the couch, my knees on his shoulders, my hands clawing at his shoulders. It was not long until we both were climaxing, the intensity of our primal, raw emotions pushing as quickly to release. And he pulled away to strip off the condom and coat my breasts and belly with his cum.

I was dizzy, overcome, and tingling. We cleaned up, fixed something to eat, shared a cigarette, laughed and talked for about an hour...both of us tired, but sailing a sea of euphoria.

The second round was again on my beloved couch, my ass in the air, my breasts against the arm of the couch and my face hidden atop the arm of the couch. My favorite position is doggy style by far, and this second time nearly made me black out. As my lover pounded into me from behind, his right hand found my throat and squeezed slightly. Breath-play is something that guarantees me orgasm, and with care, my lover forced me to cum multiple times so that I could feel my own juices dripping down to the blanket I have covering the pillows on the couch (which I had to put in the hamper later).

He came, leaning over my body and biting my ear, his voice booming through my brain, hoarse groans that made me shiver.

The sound my lover makes when he cums is a sound that I have imprinted on my mind to use when I am alone...fantasizing.

We retired to the bedroom, clean, sated and tired. It was after midnight, and we were getting drowsy. He teased my nipples, a horrible thing to do, for it roused me from my stupor and I attacked, pounced more like, and woke the 'beast.'

Fucking...raw fucking was what resulted. I teased him by 'resisting' and urged him to be rougher... His sweat dripped from his brow to my cheeks, he bit into my nipples, he pinned my arms to the bed and fucked me until I was wailing and sobbing.

That is what I would call a thorough fucking.

We parted painfully after he came, my pussy clenching his thick prick, and our bodies exhausted. He laughed and clutched his middle, claiming that his abs were burning. I grinned, my hips very bruised, along with my ass which he had bit into more than once through the night as well as spanked at some point... My shoulder hurt, and the next day I found a perfect ring of teeth where I had been bitten.

I told my lover that I should 'resist' more often.

My lover treats me gently, too gently sometimes, but he is learning.

*sigh*

I am going away for the weekend more out of necessity then for pleasure...therefore I will be missing all the fantastic Halloween parties. My man-whore neighbor has suddenly decided to move out...which is sad since we are pretty good friends. I need to get some work done...etc etc etc...

c'est la vie...

Pardon the rough entry, I wish I could elaborate more...

insusurration - (n.) - whispering in the ear; insinuation

2006-10-23T12:14:00.000-05:00

It is spitting snow today. I called in to say I would not be coming into work until 2 since I had a doctor's appointment this morning. I had to admit to my doctor that I have been smoking on and off, only to receive that matronly stern glance. I am dressed quite sloppy with a pair of running pants and matching zip up top. I am in no mood for anything more than something comfortable today. I really do not feel well, physically or emotionally. Last night was awful, fluctuating between dewy eyes and punching walls. One moment lamenting something I cannot think to call what...and getting angry at everything.

I had thought that if I would just go to sleep that the next day, today, would be better...but it isn't. I am restless, depressed, horny, and tired all the while. I have things to do, like go to work, Xerox some things, pick up slides to be mailed off...etc, etc, ad nauseum.

I honestly think that this feeling of suddenly being unwanted is all in my head, but it still hurts. It is really just me pouting for not getting what I want. How childish. I am such a control freak...and it is beginning to make me insane with disappointment. Thoughts of changing something about myself come to mind, but I cannot think of what to do to change anything. I just need a few days off, a bit of attention and perhaps I will be fine.

Ugh.

Yada, yada, yada... I am loving the fact that I can open my window to the wintry air and not hear someone complain. The joys of living alone.

Links, links, links.

2006-10-19T11:13:00.000-05:00

Granted, I have been blogging for years, I sometimes forget to link back to sites or people I mention. I need to remember to do this for several reasons.

Yesterday, blabbing about Crispin Hellion Glover, I meant to put a link to his site. This is not a traditional 'fan' site, but more to do with his own production company and info on his 'What Is It?' The more I read about this film, the more I want to risk my warped sensibilities and see it. The closest viewing for me on the East Coast is in NYC, and it very unlikely that I will make it up there this year or possibly the next. Ah, money, money, money.

I was also reading reviews for Mr. Glover's books on Amazon.

Oak Mot and Rat Catching both sound like at least an interesting view...I am not sure how much true reading is involved...hm.

*sigh* more later.

tourbillion - (n.) - whirlwind; any whirling object.

2006-10-18T22:43:00.000-05:00

Oddly enough, I have spent the bits of free time I have had today watching several interviews with one of my favorite actors: Crispin Hellion Glover. One of the advantages of broadband connections at work is that I don't have to wait an hour for clips to load. tada...there it is.

A contemporary nod to Dada, I would like to see Glover's new film (10 years in the making, actually) of 'What Is It?' Just by reading interviews, press releases and watching the trailer, I am sure this would be a film that would disturb me on a profoundly core level.

There is so much about Glover's work and writing that reminds me of a book I made in high school...still one of my most cherished possessions...a journal that I made into a picture/poetry book. I entitled the book 'The X-rated Restaurant' which was a tag line and title of an article out of an old Time magazine. The subtitle for the book was 'Selbsmord,' the German word for 'suicide.'

In high school, I was totally disconnected from reality in so many ways. I had an obsession with paper and pictures printed on glossy paper. When I say obsession, I don't mean just your 'run of the mill' obsession, I truly mean 'obsession' in the sense that it was almost debilitating...I had to cut and collect paper... Needless to say, this obsession cut into my coursework and my grades...and my related obsession with scissors, shears and Exacto knives became lethal...and tools of mutilating my feet, hands and arms. Long story...

Anyway, I had found a cheap blank book at a Dollar store and transformed it in the course of two years into what I still like to think of as an artistic pinnacle of my life. It was trite, held together by Scotch tape, filled with pictures, misogynistic, and dark...oh so dark. I still like to flip through it once in a while and laugh heartily.

I started a second, larger book entitled 'People of the Monkey Wrench' when I went off to University, and it remains unfinished. In this book, which is larger in format, is filled with more of my personal writing and less clippings. There is clear evidence of my mania and my depression in the book...my infamous page of 'CoFFee, BaCon, Biscuits and gravy,' written horribly at least three hundred times. There are also some horrible sketches of silly things, and lots of self-loathing. I should go back and finish it at some point in my life.

But all of this makes me think of Crispin Hellion Glover and my books.

I dropped American Art History today, and then was offered a commission to help revise the text book for Art 101. It was an okay day.

The big bad evil?

2006-10-16T17:39:00.000-05:00

So, American intel claims that North Korea has indeed tested nuclear arms and most likely planning to test again. Suddenly, people are scrambling somewhere, making contingency plans, spinning the media, etc. I am at home thinking...huh, a nuclear threat?

It makes me think of a story I started writing when I was about 11, a strange post apocalyptic tale of survival where North Korea was the one who had somehow hoodwinked the US and thus blasted this country back to the stone age...or at least before the age of electricity.

However, in this age of skepticism, can we really believe our government to tell us whether or not North Korea did test a nuclear weapon?

From BBC News:

Air samples from North Korea confirm that a nuclear explosion was carried out a week ago, US intelligence officials say.

Director of National Intelligence John Negroponte said the findings came after analysis of radioactive debris detected at the site of the test.

This the first official US confirmation that a nuclear detonation took place.

The UN Security Council has unanimously voted to impose sanctions against Pyongyang in response to the test.

Shortly after the confirmation, US Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice warned North Korea against conducting a second test.

'Radioactive debris'

A US military aircraft collected air samples on 11 October, two days after Pyongyang made its announcement of a successful test.

The apparently small size of the explosion had led to doubts over the veracity of North Korea's claim.

But the short statement from Mr Negroponte's office confirmed that a nuclear explosion with a yield of "less than a kiloton" took place.

This is less than a tenth of the size of the bomb dropped on Hiroshima in 1945.

Russia had previously been the only country to confirm the test, saying within only a few hours of North Korea's announcement that it was "100% certain" a nuclear test had been carried out.

Ms Rice, who leaves on Tuesday for talks in Japan, South Korea and China, told reporters that she hoped Pyongyang would not conduct a second test.

"That would further deepen the isolation of North Korea, and I hope they would not take such a provocative act," she said.

Ms Rice said that during her trip she planned to reassure leaders in Tokyo and Seoul that the US would stand by its security commitment to them.

'Different ways'

The confirmation of the test comes as key nations try to agree on how to implement the sanctions agreed by the Security Council on Saturday.

The measures target Pyongyang's weapons and missile programmes, as well as luxury goods.

They also permit cargo coming from or going to North Korea to be inspected for banned items.

But disagreements have emerged between the members of the Security Council over this part of the resolution, with China concerned that inspecting cargo at sea could further elevate tensions and lead to naval clashes.

Top US officials have urged China to comply with the resolution, and US Undersecretary of State Nicholas Burns told American television that there were signs Beijing was implementing the sanctions.

"We have some indications that the Chinese are also stopping trucks and inspecting them across that 800-mile border this morning," he said.

But Beijing's envoy to the UN Wang Guangya appeared to rule out stopping North Korea ships at sea, known as interdiction.

"Inspections yes, but inspections are different from interception and interdiction," he told journalists. "I think different countries will do it in different ways."

US envoy Christopher Hill, meanwhile, has arrived in Tokyo for talks on how to enforce the sanctions. He will also hold talks in South Korea.

Japan has already banned North Korean ships from its ports, as has Australia, and is looking at whether it can provide logistical support for US vessels if they start trying to inspect cargo ships going to or from North Korea.

Ugh... With my growing mistrust of our nation's movers and shakers, I really would like to know what the hell is really going on in the world.

GRANTED, North Korea did CLAIM to have tested a nuclear device, and actually, I really do not doubt that they have. However, I feel so wary for perhaps the 'incorrect' reasons. I think that the Bush Administration is looking for a reason to get into it with NK. The sad lack of troops, and even a decent 'National' Guard in our own country, would prevent any real action toward NK.

Why is NK pushing for developing a nuclear arsenal? Several reasons, it appears. First, China (a 'red' ally) recently backed UN sanctions against NK. Second...Bush called NK part of the so-called 'axis of evil' back in 2002. With a name like the 'axis of evil,' why wouldn't Mr. Kim try to carry out this assigned persona by a monkey faced retard? Ah, did I mention that the film 'Team America' made Mr. Kim the antagonist? hehe. 'America...fuck yeah!'

Ah, as if the US was not already in some deep shit...or shall I call it a quagmire?

A concerned drabble.

2006-10-15T20:49:00.000-05:00

"Ever have a day in your life where you thought, 'Ah, I would have no qualms about committing suicide?'"

He glanced over at her with an eyebrow raised, his fingers tightening around his half empty bottle of Newcastle. The wind was whipping her hair into her eyes, and as she reached up to push away the auburn strands, he wondered if the serious tone of her deep voice meant something more than the mere words she were saying.

"Sure, I think we all think that from time to time," he muttered, slouching over the railing of the banister looking over the manicured lawn in front of their apartment building from the third floor.

"I have been thinking about it for a while now, and I wonder if I should dig out my old pills and start eating them like candy," she sighed, aping his gesture of slouching, but leaning forward precariously so that her hair was fall over her face and dangling over the railing.

"Do you think that would be wise?" he chuckled as she threw her arms over the railing as well so that she appeared like a rag doll hanging over the edge of some abandoned toy chest.

"Probably not, but perhaps if I keep thinking the pills will help, I will fulfill some self-fulfilling prophecy and forget about wanting to kill myself..." she muttered, her breath short as her lungs were pinched by the edge of the banister.

He stood up and threw back the last of his Newcastle, gazing out of the corner of his eye at the top of her underwear peeking from the waist of her faded, careworn jeans. The pale expanse of her back between the hems of her clothing made his cock twitch at the thought of pressing his lips just to that small indentation of her lower back.

"Of course, the question would be, how would you try and justify your suicide in a note?"

He was joking, of course, he thought he knew she was joking about suicide...just like she sarcastically joked about most everything.

She snapped her body upward, and stumbled back from the banister so that her shoulders hit against the outer wall of her apartment. Her hair fell into her eyes again, and when she pushed it away, he realized that she was wearing makeup, black eyeliner, kohl eyeshadow, but violet mascara. He leaned against the wall next to her, regarding her eyes for a moment and quickly looking away those brown orbs swiveled in his direction.

"I would write, if I had the energy to write some manifesto detailing my life and it's decided end, that I simply lost interest in living and that I simply had no qualms in ending it all. There would be no cathartic and accusatory words describing some blackness in my soul...or that so and so was the cause. No, it would be a professional note, a memo, let's say, to inform everyone that I slashed my wrists or ate all the pills in the medicine cabinet because I just wanted to get a good...long...sleep."

At this, she smirked and slid down the wall to sit on the porch, her knees tucked under her chin and her matronly yet toned arms around her legs.

He blinked several times before moving to sit next to her, not so close as to touch her, but close enough to smell the spicy scent of her perfume and the citrusy aroma of her hair. He knew the shampoo, he had seen it in her bathroom.

"'You ever gentle gods, take my breath from me...'" he whispered.

"What?" she asked, glancing toward him, cocking her head slightly in regard.

"King Lear...it's nothing..."

He set the empty bottle of Newcastle next to him, wishing he had another bottle in reach.

"I honestly do not feel depressed, but I know I must be. It's almost funny, but I feel as though I could die at this very moment and regret nothing."

He smiled. "Is my company that wonderful?"

She laughed, but did not move from her self embrace. "It can be, from time to time...but I am always afraid of saying something that would offend you."

He quirked his lips. "And here I thought your self-confidence made you not care what you said. Where is that brutal honesty you are so famed for?"

"I am being honest. My sexual and physical confidence was learned and honed, my anima's confidence is in short order."

She sighed then, and relinquished her hold on her legs, stretching them out before her, like a cat stretching after a good nap.

"I hope this 'funk' will pass soon, and then I could get on with my life..."

He nodded in agreement. He hated her moods, especially when she appeared as if she were about to cry. He hated the way she would pose the questions about dying and try and get him to support her claim that suicide would be the best option out.

He was smitten with her, but not her maudlin moments. He wanted to have her, but he knew that he would never have her the way he wanted...and he did not want her this way...confused, contemplating suicide, or on the verge of self-pity and self-deprecating rants...

If only he could tell her so much and hope not to be laughed at...

rantallion - (n.) - one whose scrotum is longer than his penis

2006-10-15T13:36:00.000-05:00

Watched the WVU game yesterday against Syracuse...WVU 41, Syracuse 17. *chuckle* It was not too exciting really, but Syracuse scored first, which set everyone on edge.

I drank a bit, ate a bit, and by 3, was in bed after a quick roll in the hay. Yes, football, food, beer and sex. It would have been a nice day if my partner had not decided to leave me.

So, I have broken a rule or two to myself, and now I am a bit annoyed with myself. Firstly, I have been growing a bit too fond of the sergeant, and it is leading to me forming expectations. These expectations include wanting sex whenever he is around. Granted, it just goes to show that I find the man attractive, fantastic in bed, etc, but I have noticed a pattern, within myself, to focus solely on the sexual experience and nothing else. I find issue with this, because it is a similar pattern that occurred with my last boyfriend. Secondly, I have come to care a little too much whether or not he spends time with me...and become a bit annoyed when he is not in my presence and is off doing whatever he does. This is a major problem. It is essentially a jealousy issue. Not jealous of the typical things, but jealous that "I" am not taking up his time.

*Sigh* I am an attention whore, and I know it. This 'whorishness' is one of my major faults. I try to keep this fault at a minimum, but it still creeps in from time to time.

On the other end of the spectrum, the sergeant is having his own problems. His ex fiance, his adaptation to the civilian life, etc, seem to have him constantly apologizing to me. He mentions other women and immediately balks and tries to convince me that whatever liaison he had 'meant nothing,' and when I shrug and say it has nothing to do with me, he frowns confusedly. I have no issue or problem or a care as to what he does when he's not with me. It is perhaps the fact that I want him around quite a bit that is the problem. I do not want to hoard him...I just want to find pleasure with him and with myself...blah blah blah.

A few nights ago, I was taken aback in the post-coital haze when he mentioned that he was 'claiming' my arse as his and his alone to do with. I did not say much in retort, except to quote Eddie Izzard and asked 'do you have a flag?' My lover chuckled and I smiled, and promptly went to sleep. Upon waking in the morning, I felt strangely disgusted with myself for not smashing what illusion of possession my lover had of me.

I think the ride is almost over. I have no issue with being the man's friend and/or lover, but not his possession. I am working through finding my own niche in the grand scheme of things, I really should not distract or befuddle myself with thinking about how to be the perfect mate to anyone at this point.

ugh.

As if I did not have enought to worry or think about.

To be honest, depression seems to be creeping in, and I have honestly thought about just leaving my life for a while aka escape to the mountains and drop out of grad school. Of course, it is a silly notion, but it has crossed my mind more than once in the past week. Not a good thought, not a good feeling.

I do wonder though, what would make me feel satisfied?

Annoyance.

2006-10-12T13:50:00.000-05:00

Maybe it's because I am mensutral, but I am damn annoyed. This annoyance runs the gamut of the very personal to the general. I am annoyed that our citizens seem to be sleep walking and living under the delusion that 'everything is alright in the world.' This comes after reading a bit about Bush dismissing the Iraqi death toll where the latest numbers since July rack up to over 600,000 civilians killed. Bush would dismiss that the earth is round if it suited him.

Annoyed.

On a more personal level. Yesterday the temperature was up in hte high 70s and now it is in the mid 40s, and I cannot decide if it would be prudent to turn the heat back on. I am also annoyed about the fact that I cannot force myself to get much work done...writing that is. I am also annoyed with men in general, at the moment. And I thought women were fickle...long story.

Guh. I just really want to go back to sleep, burrow down in the blankets, quilts and comforter and sleep...sleep...and sleep.

Annoyed.

The fields are burning.

2006-10-10T18:27:00.000-05:00

After a rough night of sleeping and sweating, I took the day off.

I really have been in a strange 'funk' as of late, and I am sure it is totally hormonal. Ah, feminity...

I ended up handwashing some clothes, scrubbing the bathroom and running to the bank to check my funds since I have no memory to balance my checkbook...ever. Paid my rent, stared into a near empty refridgorator, and cursed the powers that be that today was too hot to stay anywhere else but in the shade of my stoop. Fucking hole in the ozone layer, I swear!

A friend sent me a text message, to which it took me ten minutes to reply. This friend is one of my ex's friends, and he simply told me that he missed me. I could not honestly say that I missed this guy in return since there are so many disgustingly negative sentiments floating through me to miss anything that has to do with my ex. He asked me how I was doing, to which I replied that I was all right, seeing some people on and off, and doing alright with coursework and regular work. He replied that he was depressed.

This guy is always depressed, and as much as I 'feel' for him, I cannot really handle his version of depression. I love the guy dearly, but I do not like his fatalistic, 'I am nothing if I am not with a woman' attitude. I would like to scream 'grow a pair!' It is just so inane, so immature, so sad.

I shouldn't criticize, I used to be the same way years ago. It makes me wonder if some people are simply stuck in level of mental operation, unable to mature, unable to self-actualize. Looking back, I could not get along with myself the way I was years ago. In fact, I know I would hate myself, and probably throw my hands up in disgust and walk away. *chuckle* But I think most people would say that about themselves. C'est la vie?

I simply feel irritated, annoyed that a person from a chapter of my life I would really like to close contacts me again.

Ugh.

picaro - (n.) - (fem. picara) rogue. picaresque, adj. pertaining to rogues, especially applied to literature about rogues and vagabonds.

2006-10-09T21:24:00.000-05:00

In a strange fit of melancholia, she sat on her doorstep smoking one cigarillo after another. The moon was just at the horizon, orange and ominous. And she sat watching the course of that autumn eye as it arched across the night sky. Her back ached, her bare feet were cold, but she sat letting streams of blue smoke pass her pouty lips, heedless to the chill of the evening.

There was no company coming, but she felt as if she were waiting for someone or something to come to her door. The only visitor was the breeze, and it did not linger long to make her feel less than alone. It was how the evening passed, the butts mounting upward from the ashcan on the step, the smell of tobacco and spices permeating her long dark hair, fogging her black eyes and painted eyelashes.

Somewhere deep inside her chest, beyond the dry rattle of her lungs, there was a terrible growing emptiness. Ever since she had sworn a silent oath to never let herself feel the pain of wanting again, it had been harder to swallow down her fate of self imposed stoicism and calm exterior. She did not have the energy to even smile or appear that she wanted nothing more than to sit on the doorstep and gaze absently at the moon. Part of her wanted to howl like a hound at the orb, to release some inner beast that had been clawing at her insides. But the beast was strangely silent, and only the form of a wish to unleash it remained. Was this a manifestation of a type of depression? Or was this simply an inevitable lethargy after having too much bestial sex the weekend before?

The distant squeal of tires on the street nearby brought her from her silent observation of the moon, and the sounds of the city began to filter back to her ears. The night was moving on without her notice, and the last cigarillo between her fingers had burnt down to the filter and eventually burnt out. Her feet her tingling numb, and her back protested from the slouch she had fallen into. And with a sigh of a deep sense of longing, she rose from her perch and went back inside to the warmth and sanctuary of her home.

Fighting idiocy with idiocy? Among other things.

2006-10-09T11:24:00.000-05:00

I just watched a clip from CTV...Columbia University's student run news...where there was a major riot/protest over a speech by the Minutemen Project on Friday.

The clip is described thus: The Minutemen Project is a group of civilians who voluntarily patrol the United States-Mexico border. They were invited by the Columbia College Republicans to speak on Columbia's campus. There was a large gathering of protesters outside the speech as well as the protest inside.

Basically, students rushed the stage, unfurled a banner, and chaos ensued. I would have liked to see the speech, what was being said, etc. But the clip dealt more with the students making a so-called statement by rushing the stage. I cannot judge too harshly, I do not agree with the idea of building a wall between Mexico and the US. Historically, by building walls between nations or factions mean that the walls will inevitably be breached. When were the last major walls built? Hadrian's wall...for instance in 122 CE. The Great China Wall? 3rd Century BCE-17th Century CE. Contemporaries include the wall being built between the Gaza Strip and Jewish settlements...

I think what bothers me the most about this 'Wall' is the fact that it is a tangible symbol of how our nation is taking on a more 'isolationist' stance in the eyes of the world. Our foreign policy bites, so why not build a wall?

The Edo period in Japan was the purist isolationist state that I can think of...and what was the result? A heightened, almost cult sense of nationalism, extremism, police-states (or in this case, a military state), and a growing cesspool of internal corruption. This period lasted for over 200 years.

Is history repeating itself? Aye, to that.

On a lighter note, I cancelled my doctor's appointment today, as well as deciding to work in the afternoon rather than this morning. Oh, my ovaries are protesting it seems. I had to print off a revised and updated resume, a statement of intent. I am a bit ahead by already having the bare bones of a mock syllabus. But I am not really looking forward to leaving the apartment today. I am so broke, it is not even laughable. I need to pay my rent tomorrow to be sure I have enough money to buy food.

Curse the fates! *chuckle*

I need to get on the ball, get moving, take some Tylenol and smile...yes, simply smile. At least I have Thursday off.

necromorphous - (adj.) - feigning death

2006-10-08T13:50:00.000-05:00

My limbs and my back ache. It has been a long weekend, fraught with a mixture of stress and sex.

I have a love for steak which cycles from time to time. It seems when I am near my cycle, I really crave steak. Especially rare steak. Friday, I went out with my man whore neighbor and the sergeant. We went to the local decent steakhouse, and ate like pigs. Apparently I had not been the only one who had not had time for a decent meal that day. A 22 oz. light beer, a bowl of mashed potatoes...and perhaps the best and bloodiest steak I have ever eaten. An 8 oz. sirloin, medium rare (or say I thought I told the server), and a nice full feeling as we left.

Eventually, the three of us walked down a few blocks to a party. I did not know anyone there, although my two male companions seemed to know everyone. It was a large party, a kegger as many would call it, and I sat on the porch watching some people play beer pong, and looking cold. It was very cold outside, Friday night. I had slipped a light shirt on under my heavy knit sweater, and I still was freezing my ass off. I drank a bit more than I should have and eventually ended up leaning against the sergeant. I talked with a few people, but I honestly could not remember their names or faces at this point. I just wanted to go somewhere warm and laze about.

By 12.30 am. I was walking with the sergeant back to my place. I had to hold onto him to not start walking off at an angle and trip over the curb. However, the combination of the trek, the cold, and the gorgeous night sky sobered me up. It was quite a beautiful night, and between the street lights, the moon lit our way.

As I was unlocking the door to my apartment, the sergeant latched on to my neck, suckling and teasing the ice off my skin. Wisely, he suggested a shower to warm us up. Clothes ended up being strewn across my kitchen, down the little hall to the bathroom.

My skin was ice, or at least it felt as if I had frozen from the inside out. Under the hot spray, my lover infused warmth into my skin with kisses and nibbles. *chuckle* It could have been romantic in a sense, and as much as I am a sucker for a 'romance' the situation was far from it...under the hot spray, he devoured my mouth, my pussy, my skin, my throat, and when he felt I was sufficiently warm enough, coaxed me to my knees to take him in my mouth.

Somewhat primal, but wonderfully fitting. We were no longer inebriated, we were no longer cold, and when I felt my jaw between to twinge, he lifted me up and kissed me until I could not draw a proper breath. The sneaky bastard had set a condom on the shelf above the toilet next to the bath, and stealthily rolled it on. With a growl I know I will never forget, he twisted me to push my face against the shower wall. Lifting me by my hips so that I was forced to the tips of my toes, he penetrated me with a force that almost pushed my entire upper body against the wall of the bath. One hand on my hips, the other in my dripping hair he arched my back and literally fucked me into a near blackout. I fell against him, the force of my climax making me weak and suddenly very tired. He bit into my shoulder, and quickly turned off the cooling shower. Balancing me on the edge of the tub, he wrapped a towel around me as he disposed of the condom and began drying off himself. By the time I recovered he was walking out of the bathroom with a smug expression on his face.

Finally dry and slightly dressed, we went about finding a little food to munch on. He lamented at the state of my cupboards, and found a Soup-at-hand meal and ate while I sipped on some water. It was a only a reprieve, looking back on it now. When he had finished, slipped off to the bathroom again, and I was dozing on the couch, he was ready to go again. To the bedroom we went, and I was ravished to the point where I wanted to scream and beg to either pass out or die. The bed was soaked between my juices and his sweat. My hips were aching, and are still aching today, and by the time he came on my breasts, it had been 3 hours since we had gotten back to my place.

Meticulously cleaning me off, he went to get a bottle of water and roused me by forcing me to drink. I was exhausted, warm, and extremely happy. With a bit of coaxing, I changed the bed sheet...so soaked it was, that neither of us wanted to sleep on it. We lay for a long while, my fingers playing and twirling in his dark chest hair, his arm about my waist, caressing my hip.

In the supposed 'after glow,' we talked about whatever came to mind. And once again, we were suddenly drinking from each other's lips. My poor pussy was aching, but I relented as he slipped another condom on and I pushed my hips down upon his cock. I rode him with what the energy that I can only call my 'second wind.' I took great pleasure in watching his face, the way his mouth would open to emit a groan, the flickering of his lashes as his eyes would roll back into his head, the manner in which his brows would raise when he would dip closer to the edge of his climax. And I took pleasure when he grasped my hips and rolled me with unworldly ease when my pace was not hard or fast enough for his liking. He pinned my hands above my head, suckled my breasts and growled for me to wrap my legs about his waist.

I think I did black out for a bit, for the next clear picture I have in my mind was me tasting his cum in my mouth as he leaned over me, his fingers tangled in my hair and the sound of his hissing through his teeth as he came.

After a bit of cleaning up, we lay down for bed. It was probably 5 a.m., and I set my alarm for noon. I lay against him, against curling my little fingers into his chest hair, and went to sleep.

Sometime in the morning, he rose and went to the couch. Why? The guy was too warm, and I do not sleep well with others. *chuckle* I do not move much when I sleep, and he made the mistake of opting to sleeping on the left side of the bed...my side.

I woke early, I simply could not sleep any longer. After restraining myself from jumping on the sergeant like an over active kitten, I took a quick shower, and began reading over some books I ordered from the Uni's library. Soon, he woke...and we were once again in bed, me sucking his cock, he begging me to stop or 'We'll never get anything done today, and I need to take you grocery shopping...' I did not stop. And although I could barely stand for anything to touch my hips, he penetrated me again after a bit of teasing, and it was not until 1 pm, that we actually got out of bed again.

He showered, I wiped down a bit, we dressed, and true to his word...we went to the grocery store. Now, this was the part of my weekend where I felt horribly uneasy. He bought my groceries.

*growl* I hate being or feeling obligated to anyone. He bought my groceries, even bought a 2 qt. saucepan, after commenting that I should have one.

We came back to my apartment and ate, watched part of Seven, and ended up falling asleep on the couch. I woke up and suggested the bed. So we napped for about 3 hours. And by 6 pm. he was gone, waking me to tell me he had to meet his brother, and that I only had two hours to get ready to meet my pal Rajeev for dinner. He kissed my face, smoothed my hair, and asked me to call him later on. And with that, my weekend with the sergeant came to a close.

Today, my monthly visitor arrived, my hips are aching, I have bruises all over my body (luckily in not so obvious places...one stipulation I made), and my lips are chapped. It was a pretty good weekend, if not a bit painful.

All in all, I like this guy. Besides the fantastic, if not primal, sex, we get along quite well. The friend potential increased during the weekend. The important thing about my time spent with the sergeant is the fact that we have established a basis that we are not planning on getting too serious, that we will be seeing other people, that unless we can offer each other a fantastic 'deal' there will be no promises of any sort of fidelity, love or even 'serious relationship' status. As it stands, we can only offer each other friendship and a good time in bed. And that is fine with me.

As for other conquests, I lack the energy at the moment. Not mention lacking time. The semester is falling heavy on my shoulders, and the coursework is becoming far too time consuming than I would like. Work is the same...and I was surprised that I actually had the time to spend almost two days with the sergeant.

edipol - (n.) - a mild oath

2006-10-06T12:07:00.000-05:00

This week literally flew by, but I have not had much energy to blog or even to consider writing anything other than notes for lectures. Monday, I missed a doctor's appointment...bleh. Tuesday was a full day of lectures. Wednesday, was a full day of work and prepping for Thursday.

As for Thursday, I lectured for a tenured professor on Chinese art between the Neolithic to the Song Dynasty (ended 1279 CE). I over prepared in ways, but when I got going, lecturing to a hall of about 90 students, I really got it going... The initial anxiety drained away, and I spoke about the material the class was to know. The only criticism I received from the actual professor of the class was a small grammatical error I made while speaking. The difference of 'had went' and 'had gone.' Of course, 'had gone' is correct, but I was so into speaking about Tang Dynasty Buddhist architecture, I misspoke. Bleh. The rest of the day seemed to drag on after that morning lecture. By the time I made it home, I was totally wiped out. I got stood up for a dinner date, so I stayed home and drank the rest of the wine I had in the fridge.

I was in a a bit of a funk last night. Not depressed, but thoroughly pissed off because I really wanted to go out to dinner with this guy.

It stems from my ex... To elaborate: One of my biggest gripes about my ex was the fact he never seemed to think much about making me wait around for him to either show up or call when we had made plans to do something... I hate waiting on someone to decide to contact me. I hate waiting around for word that my plans will be carried through. I just hate waiting, period. I hate wasting my time.

I was wasting time last night, and it pissed me off to no end. I went to bed, frustrated.

Had my usual Friday half day, stopped by the convenience store on the way home for a half gallon of milk, a spot of lunch, a salad for dinner and a new lighter.

Yes, a new lighter with some stupid looking motorcycle on the it plastic cover.

I get a bit nervous if I do not have matches or lighters in the house. Not that I would use it to smoke, but just to have an implement to create fire if I should need it.

For instance, two nights ago, Mo-town was hammered by a horrendous storm. For at least 3 hours, a stationary front sat atop town, lightning, wind and rain galore. When I lived with my grandmother and even further back, with my parents, it was almost a guarantee that if there is lightning, you lost power. Where I live now, in town, near the Uni hospitals, it is a rare occurrence for the power to even flicker let alone go out for any length of time. But I still like to have candles and matches/lighters about.

Ah, my plans for tonight? None. I really feel like utter shite, and have felt so since yesterday. I am just going to relax, watch a movie, eat salad, take a nap, do a few Sudoku puzzles, etc. Thus will be my life today, because I can make it so with certainty.

Dangerous terrain

2006-10-02T21:18:00.000-05:00

Amid thoughts while watching NBC's Heroes, I began thinking about some of the info I have processed in the last few weeks...on a political schema. As riled up as I have been, there are several things that have weighed heavy on my mind.

First off, I keep mentioning finding the Blast the Right podcast, which for the most part I enjoy listening to. My only real issue about the cast is the fact that Jack Clark seems to be a bit way past the 'left.' I mentioned a cast dealing with Bush, Chavez, Jesus and Oil in the last post. One big problem I had with the cast, initially, is the fact that Jack Clark misquoted the Bible... "Matthew, book 25, chapter..." Any one raised christian or has any understanding of the Bible knows that Matthew is the BOOK, Chapter 25, verse... This oversight bothered me. Also, Clark claimed not to be a christian. I have no problem with that, none at all. I am not a christian in the 'christian' sense of the word, but I know enough about the Bible through being raised in the church as a preacher's daughter and through my own investigates, to know how to quote the Bible. I am tempted to write Jack Clark and bring this issue up. If you want to fight 'right wing psuedo christians,' you need to know how to speak the language.

I have a similar problem with Bill Maher who is a self proclaimed atheist. Again, I have no problem with his view, but whenever someone mentions or speaks of the Bible, you need to speak the language or present some credentials. Why? Because there are people, mostly self professed christians, who will point out your verbal mishaps and thus discount everything you have to say.

For centuries, the realm of religion has been a touchy subject...no one exactly right, no one exactly wrong...it is all so subjective and ever so flawed.

Thus, I claim not to be an expert on the Bible, but I claim to know enough through years of literally having it drilled into my head. My father, the Southern Baptist minister/pastor balks every time I tell him the Bible is a fine reference book. In my field, it is almost prerequisite to know the Bible...and so many people do not.

Granted, I am not a christian, if anything I might be agnostic, maybe a humanist, but I think it is important to have a working knowledge of the religious text that so much of our countries basic tenets are based upon. In other words, trying not to sound like an idiot when debating the current political clime. Know what you mean when you talk about the parables! As if there are not enough people twisting the Bible to suit their own motives. Personally, I don't use it for anything else besides a bibliographic, primary source. *cackle*

This past week, Robert Byrd's campaign has been airing a new commercial dealing with Byrd's bill to legalize silent prayer in schools. I can understand why this commercial is running...it is something Byrd believes in, and he is entitled to his belief. He mentions that the Bible is beneficial in teaching children how to live life as productive, kind and compassionate human beings. I can agree with this to a point. My only qualm with this sentiment is that other religions, essentially take the same stance...Islam is primarily a peaceful religion, however, the Muslim world feels that it is being threatened, thus extremism. Buddhism is perhaps the most peaceful religion of all, but you do not see too many people converting.

I have many qualms with Christianity besides its checkered history. I have many qualms with people who use the Bible as an excuse to do what they will by oppressing others. Look at the Crusades for a point of reference. Christians, in the name of a Christian god, have killed those who were not Christian as well as those who were Christian... Really smart, eh?

*sigh*

Religion muddles so much. Or the idea of 'religion.' It is all such a clusterfuck, if you ask me. However, religion is the greatest unifier as well as the greatest schismatic element in civilization. Ah, how contradictory we are as human beings, but I suppose that is what makes us human after all.

iconolagny - (n.) - sexual stimulation from pictures or statues

2006-10-02T15:45:00.000-05:00

Got the car fixed, and the price tag ended up being my Christmas gift from my parents. I really should learn more about cars.

I did enjoy my visit with my parents, although I froze to death about the whole time I was home. I watched V for Vendetta with the 'rents, and they enjoyed it. Goes to show you that old war activists can still get excited about revolution and ideals of anarchy. *chuckle*

Went to work this morning, then class. I need to start prepping for Thursday, and Dr. S. freaked me out by telling me she did not think I was pronouncing 'Shang' Dynasty correctly. I looked it up here...come to find out I was saying it correctly, but I was mispronouncing 'Qi.'

As a point of interest, although it inspires a bit of ire...listen to this:

FRISCO, Texas -- An award-winning Texas art teacher who was reprimanded after one of her fifth-grade students saw a nude sculpture during a trip to a museum has lost her job. The school board in Frisco has voted not to renew Sydney McGee's contract after 28 years. She has been on administrative leave.The teacher took her students on an approved field trip to a Dallas museum, and now some parents are upset.The Fisher Elementary School art teacher came under fire last April when she took 89 fifth-graders on a field trip to the Dallas Museum of Art. Parents raised concerns over the field trip after their children reported seeing a nude sculpture at the art museum.The parents had signed permission slips allowing their children to take part in the field trip. McGee's lawyer said the principal at Fisher Elementary School admonished her after a parent complained that a student had seen nude art. McGee said the principal had urged her to take the students to the museum. Now, McGee, who was honored with a Star Teacher Award two years ago, is on paid administrative leave until her contract with the school district expires in March.Other parents are worried about the future of the art program at the school, which they cite as a reason for moving into the neighborhood."Our main concern right now is what's going to happen to the children and what's going to happen to the art program at Fisher Elementary. It is the best art program. That's the reason we moved to this neighborhood. It's because of the teachers," said Shannon Allen, a parent. "It was a principal-approved trip. What's the big deal?" Officials with the Frisco school district declined to comment on the matter.

What's the big fucking deal? Christ, another example of how our country is taking steps backward from modernity.

Speaking of stupid, backward things...The other day I saw a car with a bumper sticker saying: "Planned Parenthood Hurts Girls."

*gape*

Are you kidding me? Planned Parenthood, if anything, helps women tremendously. While telling my father about this, he brought up the issue of abortion as a possible reason this idiot was against Planned Parenthood. My father, I love him, mentioned that some believe that Planned Parenthood abortion over conventional birth control methods. Planned Parenthood does advocate Pro-Choice, but does not use abortion as a quick and easy answer. Before the possibility of an unwanted pregnancy, Planned Parenthood advocates 'safe sex' above all...condoms, birth control pills, etc. A woman's HEALTH is of importance, above all. I am pro-choice, all the way! I believe it is a woman's choice to decide what to do with her body, as long as she is informed and conscientious. Read Planned Parenthood's Value Statements.

*sigh*

Almost as bad as "Strip Mines prevent Forest Fires," but I think that bumper sticker as more for ironic affection than anything else. Ah, strip mining...I know it all too well.

Listening to Jack Clark on Blast the Right...I was intrigued by episode 49 - Venezuela as Prism: Bush, Chavez, Jesus and Oil. Reminds me so much about my rant about West Virigina. *ugh* again.

Close to home

2006-09-28T22:02:00.000-05:00

Several years ago I graduated from a smaller University in my state with an Associates degree in Graphic Design. While there, living with my grandmother at the time, I came to know several people who were in the arts program and studio classes.

Sadly, I just learned that a boy I knew quite well was murdered last year by his girlfriend. The trial is wrapping up now, and I feel a strange grief. I have not lived in this town for several years, but my grandmother still does, so I visit quite often. I did not really keep up with the people I shared studio time with, so the news of this boy's murder is just now reaching me via the local news. Yesterday, on my local news, I saw a clip of another boy I knew and was friendly with who had witnessed the murder. It was quite surreal, seeing this guy on TV.

The boy who was murdered was a rough sort of person, into drugs and less savory things, but we were quite friendly. He was not a bad guy, in my opinion, just rough. He was an excellent graphic artist and was, when I knew him, working to establish himself as a tattoo and graphic artist. He knew some of my family since he grew up in the area of the University I attended and my family also lived nearby.

Overall, I hate to hear that he was murdered. The trial is closing with his girlfriend claiming self-defense. However, witness testimony shades the boy's death as one with probable cause...drugs being involved, and apparently the girlfriend attacking the boy I knew... I find it so incredibly awful, and very close to home. I really liked the guy, I honestly liked him. And to hear he is no longer in this world is horribly unfortunate.

kerasine - (adj.) - horny.

2006-09-28T17:01:00.000-05:00

Egads, I am typing with a somewhat numb right hand due to the horrendous essay exam I finished today. I swear to the gods or whatever, I am going to have to take some Tylenol to abate the pain.

I am in the mood for a hot, juicy, a bit pink sirloin. I have been in the mood for steak all week. However, I have a feeling that I will be going alone tonight since it seems that all my friends and family seem to be so freaking busy. I really want to get warmly drunk tonight since I have decided to take tomorrow off. I also want a repeat of last night...

Last night I was one sated kitty. The sergeant made an appearance, brought over a six pack of Newcastle, and we sat on my couch just talking for about 2.5 hours before I just couldn't help but touch him. We ended up in bed, he attacking my clit, me grasping his hair. I have come to the realization that this guy has hazel eyes, I never noticed before.

One of the things I really like about this guy is the fact that he has the strength to lift, move and manipulate my body. He's a big guy, not fat, but definitely sturdy. He is also hairy, which I do not mind at all, compared to the almost hairless ex. The feel of chest hair against my nipples does wonders for pushing me closer and closer to orgasm. Combined with his strength, overall size, I am satisfied. I think it has to do with my submissive nature. I like being the smaller of two, able to be dominated physically.

Apparently my submissive nature intrigues the sergeant. He is rather dominant, but he openly admits that he has not delved too much into the dom/sub aspects of a physical relationship. And he openly admits that he would like to delve into it...as well as a few other sex acts he has yet to try. I like the fact that we can talk openly about our sexuality and experiences. In fact, I like the fact we have been able to talk openly and honestly about what we want and what we like.

I reiterated the notion that I was not interested in a 'serious' relationship. He is the same. We can be friends, lovers, fuckbuddies. He claims not to be ready to commit himself for two reasons: 1. his unstable lifestyle of being in the military and in the Special Forces, 2. he's been burned and is not in the mood to be hurt again based on his own conceptions of how a relationship should work. I am totally fine with this. I am not in the mood to devote myself to anyone but myself, nor am I actively seeking to stay monogamous with any man, no matter how wonderful they may seem.

So, we went at it for a few hours, soaking each other with sweat, saliva and my girl goo. *chuckle* I will admit, I am a damp woman...constantly. I have experimented enough with my own body to know what and why I seem to soak a bed, or floor, or whatever when I climax. Again, lust puddles.

We lay for a bit, afterwards, talking...then a shower, together. It was pleasant, very much so.

However, while talking on the couch, I mentioned the fact that I have no qualms about taking nude pictures of myself and even posting them or emailing them to friends or lovers. I have done this for a very long time, I have even posted a picture of myself on this blog. I *sigh* did have several great photos, amateur of course, but somehow disappeared between the move of data from my old PC to my laptop. I sent a picture to the sergeant, at his request, and apparently he really enjoyed it. The thought of possibly seeing more, aroused him...and it was blatantly obvious he was aroused. It actually made me blush a little...for shame.

It brought up a convo about how I felt about my own body, if I would like to experiment with he taking pictures of me... Personally, I find the idea to be fun, sexy and interesting. This is guy who knows art...he has a degree in the arts (odd that he is the military, but that's a long story), and he is willing to try out just about anything. A man after my little scab of a heart.

In conclusion, I had a late, but great evening last night. I would like to see him again since I have no immediate prospects at the moment...and also before I go down in the mountains for the weekend.

*wolfish grin*

plousiocracy - (n.) - government by the wealthy; plutocracy

2006-09-27T18:22:00.000-05:00

US House passes terror trial bill

The US House of Representatives has passed a bill defining the rules for interrogating and trying foreign terrorism suspects.

The bill, backed by President George W Bush, would allow military tribunals to try the several hundred suspects held at Guantanamo Bay in Cuba.

Supporters say the bill gives America the tools it needs to bring terror suspects to justice.

Critics say it curbs the rights usually granted in civil and military courts.

The legislation is a response to a Supreme Court ruling in June that the original military tribunals set up by the Bush administration to prosecute detainees were in violation of American and international law.

The new measures provide defendants with more legal rights than they had under the old system, but it eliminates their right to challenge their detention and treatment in federal court.

The bill forbids treatment of detainees that would constitute war crimes - such as torture, rape and biological experiments, but gives President Bush authority to decide which other techniques interrogators can use.

The Senate is expected to vote on a near-identical bill on Thursday, which if also passed, would give President Bush and Republicans a substantial victory before mid-term elections in November.

This frightens me on so many levels. As does much to do with the so-called 'people in charge' of our country.

While listening to Blast the Right today at work, I was listening to Jack Clark's spiel on Fox (or Faux) News and the obvious partisan spin on their news shows. Dear gods, I am so glad I do not have Fox... My mum complains constantly about how skewed Faux News is...claiming to be 'Fair and Balanced' my ass. The particular point Jack Clark was putting across had to do with Sen. Rick Santorum of Penn. declaring that WMDs had been found in Iraq...what he failed to mention, along with Faux News is that these so called WMDs were degraded and nearly harmless remains of Saddam's weapons he stopped using and making in 1991! This shite was as harmful as bleach found in most households. It astounds me of what people will or will not believe, or what people take as truth and lies. Spin doctors abound!

This also comes on a day where reports find that the US occupation of Iraq FUELS terrorism.

I take this view: One person's terrorist is another person's revolutionary, martyr and hero. If this view makes my unAmerican, so be it. We, as Americans, are proving ourselves to be fools in so many ways. I believe that is patriotic to question our 'elected' government. I believe it is patriotic to want reform within our own country. I also believe it is our patriotic duty to point out that our leaders ARE fallible, and sometimes just plain wrong!

I also listened to Real Time with Bill Maher episode 82 at work. There was a bit about Katie Couric's debut on CBS (I cannot stand the woman, personally, although Gloria Steinem seems to love her), speaking about 'privileges' and 'rights.' If I remember correctly, Couric mentioned that voting is a 'privilege.' *scoff* Have we suddenly forgotten the 19th Amendment, Katie? It is our RIGHT as women to vote. It is every citizen's RIGHT to vote. Don't give me 'privilege,' my dear woman. Bill Maher really cut into her as well...hehe.

At any rate, my day consisted of a meeting, and work...work...and more work. I went to dinner at my sister's place, enjoyed the company, and have now, obviously, returned home...just had my shower, going to pop open my bottle of Van Buren and study for my horrid American test tomorrow. Ah, autumn cometh!

castrophrenia - (n.) - the belief that one's thoughts are being stolen by enemies

2006-09-26T18:33:00.000-05:00

The idea of *squee* Yes, W, it is something even I regress to when I cannot think of any coherent term to describe my glee.

The sergeant will be in tomorrow. Insert *squee* here. And here I thought my week would be as dull as every other week. *chuckle* He's flying into the local airport tomorrow, and then, who knows? All I do know is that I'm heading out of town on Friday to go down into the mountains, visit my parents, get my car worked on for a reasonable price, do some laundry and actually play with my dogs. I really need to calm myself and not stress over the little silly things, especially when it comes to course work. American Art History is kicking my ass, literally. I fecking hate the class, it is an experience akin to the frustration of mowing down dandelions...or comparable to the dream in which I am constantly pulling out my teeth. It is horrid.

Speaking of horrid, I just read a report stating that 2 men working at the Sago mine have committed suicide in the last month. Although they have not been blamed for the disaster earlier this year, the guilt drove them to extremes. I hate to hear this, West Virginia is my home and mining is a part of my family history. The Sago incident is not isolated in my state's history, and only 12 were killed compared to 80+ killed back in the 1950s in Farmington (just down the road from where I live now). My own father has been injured while working the mines, and my grandfather died from complications of Black Lung. Like so many people that live or were raised in WV, mining and the dangers involved is an unfortunate reality.

Granted, the media attention to the Sago incident have pushed our legislators and our government to reevaluate mining safety standards, but there is always a human toll after a disaster like that at Sago. New regulations, though good, eliminate jobs or make it harder for people to work who do not have the ability or education to work elsewhere.

It is my honest belief that West Virginia is considered less of a state by outsiders, but more like a colony in which all the income comes from companies and corporations outside of the state...West Virginia is coal in most people's minds, and nothing more besides a stigma that Appalachians are ignorant, inbred idiots. Being West Virginian, I take offense. This state has a rich history, culture, and population that IS considered a minority or ethnic group by big government. I take pride in being an Appalachian...and I know that if for some reason or another I would survive with my 'backward, hillbilly' skills if the world were to fall down around our ears. My grandmother, who lived through the Depression, is a rural and at times xenophobic person, but she had taught her children and grandchildren how to live in the world if there were no longer any Walmarts or even electricity. I know how to farm, tend a garden as a main source of food, how to raise livestock and slaughter animals for food, I know how to hunt and fish, even what I can eat out of the woods and how to treat illness with natural remedies. This is part of what being a West Virginian means in varying degrees.

This is interesting, and taken from WV Kids Count and the US Census board:

"Census figures released Tuesday show that West Virginia's poverty level has dropped slightly in recent years but remains above the national average.

Figures also show that while the Mountain State's median income has risen, it ranks among the lowest in the nation.

Also, the rate of West Virginians without health insurance coverage has gone up.

From 2002 to 2004, West Virginia's average poverty rate was just over 16 percent. The national average was 12.4.

West Virginia's average median household income for those three years was $32,589. Only Arkansas and Mississippi were lower.

Nationally, that figure was $44,473.

The Mountain State's uninsured population was nearly 16 percent for those three years, which is slightly higher than the national average of 15.5 percent."

The cost of living in WV is actually very low compared to the rest of the country, and due to this, incomes are generally lower...making WV look as if we are on par with Arkansas and Miss. However, I am sure the cost of living is probably just as low in those states...oddly disproportionate, methinks. As for insurance coverage...I believe it has to do with the sort of jobs available in the state. Most coal companies offer family health coverage...all due to the Unions working overtime and for years in the state, but most jobs that do not offer any sort of health coverage are service industry or timbering jobs. I could rant and rave about how horrible it is to work for a timbering or logging company...high pay but no insurance, high injury and high turnover rate in working bodies...ugh. There are more jobs in WV that do not offer any sort of insurance than there are professional jobs...again fortifying my belief that WV is treated more like colonist state than a true part of the US. The same could be said of other states, I am sure. But I am writing what I know and see.

And that is my entry.

obloquy - (n.) - abuse; disgrace. oblocutor, n. one who denies or disputes

2006-09-26T16:14:00.000-05:00

Just read some stats about the so-called war on terror in Iraq.

DEATHS SINCE MAR 2003

Iraqi civilians: 42,358

Iraqi security forces*: 5,182

US military: 2,596

UK military: 115

Other coalition military: 115

Journalists: 77

*Since June 2003
Sources: Iraq Body Count (baseline estimate of civilian deaths), Brookings Institution

Iraq Body Count: War dead figures

The number of civilians reported to have been killed during the Iraq war and subsequent military presence is being recorded by the campaign group Iraq Body Count.

On 15 September 2006 it put the total number of civilian dead at 40,775 to 45,559 and the number of police dead at 2,437.

The issue of counting the number of Iraqis killed since the US-led invasion is highly controversial and the figure is disputed.

The US and UK military authorities do not record the number of civilians killed by their forces. The security situation and administrative chaos also make counting extremely difficult.

From BBC World News.

How can this be acceptable? Augh.

More later...

Podcasts plus.

2006-09-25T17:48:00.000-05:00

Since buying my Gin-chan, I have really been plugging into podcasts. Before buying an iPod, I downloaded the Mp3s and listened at home...mostly Violet Blue's Open Source Sex. However, I have been subscribing to other podcasts and listening at work.

Sex is Fun! is an excellent podcast, and I think I may have mentioned it. I have also subscribed to Kinky Sex Radio just for fun. The latest episode features Graydancer from Rope Weekly.

On a more political level, I have started listening to Blast the Right, most of which I agree with, some I do not, being a mixture of Libertarian/Liberal etc. I cannot help but laugh at the Bush bashing, I mean, who cannot? Blast the Right claims: "Heavy Duty Ammo to Blast the Right! Listen to this Podcast for a month and you'll be able to kick the butt of any right-winger. I guarantee it!" I don't know about that claim...of course most left wingers find righties to be borderline retarded. I just know that neo-conservatives or Bushies frighten the hell out of me.

I also started syncing Real Time with Bill Mahr. *chuckle*

Okay, I am subscribing to Graydancer's Ropecast...just gotta. I love shibari, another thing I may have mentioned. I absolutely would love to find someone who is in the know...the Way of the Rope...*squee*

At any rate, off to work, work, work...all the while listening to new podcasts. ^_^

mactation - (n.) - sacrificial murder

2006-09-24T20:53:00.000-05:00

Just another quick post since I am not feeling too inspired or driven to rant or write about much... I'm still munching down on some naan and curry, it might be gone by tomorrow since Abhi gave me so much and the fact that I love the stuff... Me be pig.

I lazed about today even though I feel as if I should have accomplished more than doing dishes, cleaning the sinks and tub. I need to start writing an outline for the lecture on Oct. 2 for Early Chinese art for the Art Survey. Hm... Tomorrow is work, then sitting through my Practicum seminar...then home.

The sergeant may be coming in this week, it would be nice to see him. I am not making any definite plans because there is a possibility that nothing will happen. I have become very used to not making definite plans, though it galls me and my sensibilities. I just know that I have work, class, and laundry to do this coming week. Those are definite. Anything else is flexible, negotiable, etc. I'm such a control freak, especially about my time. I am forcing myself to relax...literally forcing myself.

Last night was a good example of why I should just 'chill the fuck out.' I had a great time. I called my grandmother, since I had not talked to her all week and told her all about it... She was amused. Although my grandmother can be quite cantankerous, mean spirited, a bit bigoted, she is the one who taught me to 'try anything once.' It is a good attitude to adopt, in my opinion. If I had not tried, I would not know...now would I? Because of this attitude, I know what I like in bed, what I like to eat, what I like to drink, and of course, what I DO NOT like... *chuckle*

On the sexual front, I have been quite sedate over the last few days. This is strange for me in so many ways. I am a proponent of masturbation, of course, and for the last few days, that has worked. It will not last long, I am sure. The prospect of the sergeant makes me antsy, I did have such a great time the last time I saw him... But in all other aspects, I have been far too busy with work and school to make too much time or to devote the proper amount of time in wooing or seducing anyone to my bed. I have a week and a 2 days before my cycle catches up to me, and I know...oh, I know I will snap out of this sedate phase and prowl.

In the meantime, I am going to watch some football, cuddle up with a new puzzle book and get some quality dream time.

Chicken curry, Tamil, and antifreeze

2006-09-24T00:37:00.000-05:00

Just got in from a kick ass party.

My pal Rajeev invited to me a triple birthday party, and I finally relented and attended. I had a great time, although I was no mood to 'hook up' with anyone. Just an easy going time where I was one of only 2 Americans in attendance. Besides about 4 Chinese MA and Ph.D. candidates, myself and one American guy named Andrew, EVERYONE was Indian. And by god, Indian folk can party like it's 1999.

There was an abundance of alcohol, Indian food from Pittsburgh and brown bodies. *chuckle* These people know how to have a good time. I ended up drinking three very strong drinks made by Rajeev, eating my own weight in chicken curry, 'naan' or unleavened wheat bread, rice and eventually chocolate cake. Gods, I am stuffed, sobered slightly, have a head ache, and need to go to bed.

I ended up talking with several people, some of which I cannot remember or pronounce their names, but I got unto the subject of my immense interest in Indian art. I wrote a paper, a large and in depth paper on 16th century Chola Dynasty bronzes of Shiva Nataraja. So, I ended up talking to a few people, asking several innocent questions, talking of Tamil, one of the many, many languages in India. Very fun for me.

So, I am knocking off to bed, after taking a couple Tylenol, drinking some more water, and hoping I do not feel like shite tomorrow.

lacuna - (n.) - (pl. -ae ) gap; interval; hiatus. lacunal, lacunose, lacunar, lacunary, adj.

2006-09-21T18:54:00.000-05:00

First exam went off without a hitch. I had no problems with any of the Modern Architecture exam, which covered Beaux art to International style. It was a relatively simple affair. I was one of the first to finish, having already formulated my essay yesterday. It ended up being two pages long, but I think it satisfied the requirements.

Theory consisted of me laughing at Clement Greenberg. Avant-garde vs. kitsch...always fun. Greenburg's kitsch is the 60s pop art...and ultimately pop culture today...so yeah.

I keep listening to The Vapors' Turning Japanese today, it is just that sort of day...that and Dexy's Night Runner's Come on Eileen...totally an 80s appreciation day.

Pictured to the left. Moi.

I have nights where I like to do something different. Blame it on the fact that I only have two channels on my TV. Sometimes I regress to my younger punk/goth days, just to see if I still can fit into my old clothes. Some times I strive to imitate Sun King French fashion...or at least the 20th century twist on the matter. Why do I do it? Well, I guess I am still young...and silly.

Violet Blue gave an interview today for Ryan is Hungry.com, talking about her new position as a writer for SF Chronicle. Link here. I love this woman, what can I say? She touched on one my key political issues...Abolishing Abstinence Only Sex Ed.

There seems to be a renaissance in this country...a puritanical return to the so-called taboo...aka SEX. This comes today with the CDC recommending that all folk between the ages of 13 and 64 voluntarily have HIV screening. Contradiction? A bit.

I was reading in the Uni paper that Student Health is offering HPV vaccinations for $130 a pop...a series of 3 injections adding up to $390. It should be cheaper or free.

Ah, the world keeps a'turnin'.

I have really been getting a lot of use out of my beloved Gin-chan, although I had to reset him yesterday when he decided to freeze between menu views. I sync-ed Sex is Fun podcasts, but I have not had a chance to listen to them yet. hm... Maybe tomorrow at work when I have to start doing the data for the N. Renaissance crap to be sent out next week. I also need to start looking over the material to be presented when I do a lecture for early Chinese art... Ah, guest lecturing is the shite! My grad pal Amy is doing Irish murals the next class period, which is great for her since it is her main area of interest.

Momentarily, under the cover of darkness, I am taking a vacuum to the dumpster. *cackle*

I feel particularly naughty.

Mum, better hide your Noam Chomsky's Hegemony or Survival: America's Quest for Global Dominance

2006-09-20T19:09:00.000-05:00

Long arsed day, period. I finally got through the spot of work I have been working on for 2 weeks, and my underling surprised me by exceeding my expectations...good thing.

I lugged about 12 books home from the library, all of which I need for an annotated bibliography due next week...some of which are crap, some are not. Most of the books are general surveys on Marcel Duchamp's work, some are specific to the Dada movement, and one, I know is a feminist view on female nudity in modern art. *grumble*

I wonder...I should find an online quiz to see whether I am a feminist or not. I'll look into it later.

I just read a quick piece on BBC news about Pres. Chavez telling the UN that Bush is the 'devil.' It was a few months ago, I believe, that Pat Robertson called Chavez the 'devil.' Hm.

Excerpt of longer article found here:

Venezuela's leader Hugo Chavez has called US President George W Bush "the devil" in a speech at the United Nations General Assembly.

"The devil came here yesterday," he said, referring to Mr Bush's speech on Tuesday. "It still smells of sulphur today," he added.

US State Department spokesman Tom Casey said it was disappointing to see a head of state speak in such a way.

Mr Chavez went on to criticise the UN system, which he said was "worthless".

The left-wing Venezuelan leader - allied to Cuba's Fidel Castro and with growing ties to fellow oil-producer Iran - has long had tense relations with the US.

UN 'worthless'

On Tuesday, Mr Bush had defended his policies on the Middle East and said democracy was gaining ground as terrorists were marginalised.

Mr Chavez, who brandished a copy of American leftist writer Noam Chomsky's Hegemony or Survival: America's Quest for Global Dominance, said Mr Bush promoted "a false democracy of the elite" and a "democracy of bombs".

"He came here talking as if he were the owner of the world," the Venezuelan leader said.

He called for drastic reform of the UN to reduce what he called US influence.

The UN in its current form "doesn't work", he said.

"I don't think anybody in this room could defend the system," the Venezuelan leader added.

"Let's be honest. The UN system born after World War II collapsed. It's worthless."

Mr Chavez's criticism of the UN echoed Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad's speech to the assembly late on Tuesday, BBC diplomatic correspondent Bridget Kendall reports from New York.

"As long as the UN Security Council is unable to act on behalf of the entire international community in a transparent, just and democratic manner, it will neither be legitimate nor effective," Mr Ahmadinejad said in a speech delivered a few hours after Mr Bush's appearance.

Well, mum...it seems that the 'devil' is calling Bush a 'devil' and you might watch out...Noam Chomsky is about to be blacklisted even more than usual. Personally, I like reading Noam Chomsky, as do a great many people.

Also found a link today from Beyond Delay, listing the 20 Most Corrupt Members of Congress...and lookie, lookie, Rep. Alan Mollohan D-WV is on the list! Of course, this is from the CREW or Citizens for Responsibility and Ethics in Washington, and I do not know much about these folk...better look into that as well. But looking at the list, Republicans out number Democrats 17 to 3. Makes ya wonder?

I sat through an artist's lecture at 5, and was struck by the pretension of the artist when his works (projected while he spoke) were so...hm... I liked his work, but there is a issue when an artist talks about his work. Sometimes an art work must be taken for what it is, with little or no commentary from the creator. At other times, it is incredibly valid and important for the artist to explain. The work and the artist I listened and viewed today was a case of the former...no explanation would have sufficed and perhaps made me enjoy the work even more. Sometimes I can understand why an artist wants to talk extensively about their work, especially if it has a deep theoretical basis behind why and how they create their work. However, the theory behind this man's work was, how should I say it? Simplistic.

I know that makes me sound pretentious...and if there is anything I DO NOT want people to think of me is that I am pretentious. But I cannot help it... *chuckle* I relish the fact that I can listen to artists speak...even when I do like looking at their work...absorbing it perhaps for later contemplation. The work of the artist I listened to today was the sort of work that has a meditative quality, which he expressed clearly...and he should have stopped there.

Tomorrow is the three lecture hell. An exam, for which I should study...

Just got a text message from the ex. Gods...I am not interested. It is all about getting the last word in, apparently. How immature, how inane. *sigh*

And now he's apologizing to me. How nice? I do not wish the boy ill, but the sooner it is over and done...finalized, the better. Oddly enough, I feel very 'zen' about it all, but I still do not like being bothered.

Makes me think of Pee-Wee Hermann for some strange reason.

2006-09-19T19:09:00.000-05:00

From BBC News:Africa

Sudan man forced to 'marry' goat

A Sudanese man has been forced to take a goat as his "wife", after he was caught having sex with the animal.

The goat's owner, Mr Alifi, said he surprised the man with his goat and took him to a council of elders.

They ordered the man, Mr Tombe, to pay a dowry of 15,000 Sudanese dinars ($50) to Mr Alifi.

"We have given him the goat, and as far as we know they are still together," Mr Alifi said.

Mr Alifi, Hai Malakal in Upper Nile State, told the Juba Post newspaper that he heard a loud noise around midnight on 13 February and immediately rushed outside to find Mr Tombe with his goat.

"When I asked him: 'What are you doing there?', he fell off the back of the goat, so I captured and tied him up".

Mr Alifi then called elders to decide how to deal with the case.

"They said I should not take him to the police, but rather let him pay a dowry for my goat because he used it as his wife," Mr Alifi told the newspaper.

echolalia - (n.) - habitual or pathological repitition of others' words or remarks

2006-09-19T15:30:00.000-05:00

My little prayers to have a short day have been answered...American Art History was cancelled...I shall sacrifice to the gods at midnight.

Gin-chan is my new technological friend...keeps me company at work, keeps me company at play...I am slowly becoming a modern woman, I suppose. However, I cannot help but feel a strange sense of annoyance and I cannot validate why.

I have had cycles of extreme mania in the past, and not so often, extreme depression. The depression has mellowed as I have grown older, compared to being a teenager and totally confused in general...

Actually, since I am getting on the subject of my own bouts of depression and mania, I should make it clear that I have had problems with depression since I was 12 years old, and in my darkest days, I was still very young and was treated immediately for my 'chemical' and 'emotional' imbalances. My family has a history of depression, even suicide, and in the eyes of my family I am lucky that I have grown up in a time where depression is not a dirty, taboo word and treatment is readily available. My grandfather did not have it so easy...he was on lithium from the time he was 35 to the day he died (his late 80s). My mother has been on medication, on and off, for several years. My uncle committed suicide after a lifetime of battling and hiding his depression. The list goes on.

The commonality besides genetics is that all of my family who suffer from depression are (or were) highly intelligent, most often highly educated, and very singular personalities.

I have a very strong view on those suffering from a mental illness or malady...GET TREATED! Methods are debatable, there are some methods I know work, some that do not... Psychology can be such a pseudo-science from time to time. However, I cannot abide those who are suffering...that continue to suffer either because of a personal sense of pride (I am too proud to get help), denial (I am not ill), or by indifference.

I think one of the biggest issues I have dealing with my own bi-polar illness (I call it an illness lightly) is my extended states of mania. As I have aged I have become more manic than depressed...and in some ways I am glad for this.

My mania is, by most accounts, harmless. I simply get a sudden inspiration and begin writing, drawing, talking, thinking, etc...and do not stop until I have finished, however that may manifest itself. I will move, type, speak, draw, write quickly, maniacally...interruptions to my process are met with near violence, or at least a violent reaction and harsh, sometimes incomprehensible words. I itch to move, to act, and my impulses are heightened. My attention sometimes wanders in the interludes during what I have been called my 'processes.' When my attention wanders, it is usually because I am physically or mentally exhausting myself...at these times I sleep or eat, shower or stare...

That is how my mania works, to some extent...and now that I live alone, it will bother no one. When I lived with my sister, or my roommates, or family, it was most likely terrible to watch from their perspective. My sister was used to it, strangely enough, and could 'handle' me. I suppose this is in her intrinsic nature, she is a nurse, and a damn fine one at that.

At any rate, I am at the threshold of another manic cycle. This thought disturbs me and thrills me at the same time.

How does it effect my immediate circle of friends/lovers/family? It usually doesn't. I perhaps get a bit more impassioned when speaking about my work, my interests...in bed, I am more amorous...which is most likely frightening to whomever I have chosen to take to my bed. I have been told I am insatiable...totally false...I just have high standards and a high sex drive. My family...they just watch me quietly, hoping that I do not do anything destructive or potentially embarrassing. *chuckle*

I am downloading the 'Sex is Fun' podcast...which I am being selective about the episodes. If you look at the episode list, you can see that this podcast primarily deals with monogamous/swinging couples... *disappointed hum* No real issues with polyamory, alternative lifestyles, libertinism, etc. I also listen to Violet Blue's 'Open Source Sex.'

*sigh* Enough blah, I need to think about food...like the primeval man/woman...must seek meat.

We were Marshall.

2006-09-17T18:42:00.000-05:00

I just watched the full length trailer for 'We are Marshall,' and I know what I'll be doing December 22nd.

Starting my college career at Marshall University, and my mum being alum, I still feel a little bit of spirit for the school. Granted, WVU rocks my little world at the moment, MU is or was a great school. I think the 1990s killed the academics and the 2000s killed the football team. Alas, the movie about the disastrous plane crash that killed 75 football players in 1970 will definitely be a heart wrenching/warming film. My mum was at MU in 1970, and I was there in the late 90s...having to deal with the garish memorial fountain to the 75 lost in the plane crash.

It always looked like a fetid green uterus...to me.

But I thought I would post the trailer here...to show some support.

hamartithia - (n.) - mistake-prone

2006-09-17T10:34:00.000-05:00

I am on a mission today. I am so annoyed with the fact that I can no longer listen to my usual music in my car or at work (there's a driver suddenly missing from the new PC installed at my workspace...no sound besides system sounds, and I only have access to simple functions since the Uni owns the PC and I am no OIT...muthafuckers). I can spend up to $180 dollars, and by the gods, I am going to buy an iPod! And a 2nd gen iPod nano!!!

*rips open shirt and bares breasts*

I need to upgrade...oh yes...upgrade from cassette tapes and burnt CDs to an iPod. I have been doing some research on mp3 players besides the iPod (me, I will dig the hype, but I research it). Believe it or not, it would be cheaper to buy an iPod...hm...better sound quality to boot.

So, I am going to get dressed (it is a big ass boot wearing day), check my funds (I am pretty sure I can buy an iPod nano), and go buy the new iPod nano 2nd gen, 2 gig in the silver anodized aluminum, also earth friendly case... I will also buy an FM transmitter for the car...and that should be it.

More later?

iPod Nano 2nd gen, 2 gig...silver casing, I love you. I am downloading iTunes at the moment. With exactly $199, I have the iPod, a car charger and a $15 iTunes card. I did not need the FM transmitter since the asses who broke into my car a month ago left the car kit. So, I have a new toy.

I talked with the sales guy at Best Buy, also considering the Sandisk model which was only $10 cheaper...he recommended the model, but was still pushing the iPod as well. I guess if I do not like this iPod, I can take it back in 30 days with no problems.

I bought the cheapest iTunes card...most of the music I like, I pirate, but there are always a few albums I cannot find, etc.

I named my iPod Gin-chan...because I am dork. 'Gin' meaning 'silver' and -chan, the familiar honorfic...I will never be a normal person, I am truly an otaku... *sobs*

So, I am off to play, buy some music, write my mock syllabus, frig myself into oblivion because technology and metal turn me on, etc.

blissom - (adj.) - with strong sexual desires; in rut.

2006-09-16T19:33:00.000-05:00

A wasted day, by all accounts. I think I slept the biggest part of the day away, only waking to eat, check my email, shower and make a trip down the street for my sudden craving for beef jerky.

I passed up an opportunity to go out with my man-whore neighbor...another night of drinking and waking up in odd places. It is his birthday, and I felt a little regret since I had invited him to my little gathering back in July. Alas, I still do not feel too well, I just got a shower, and I am not dressed to go any farther than my stoop.

The real thing about going out, at least for me, is that I want to be absolutely sure that I make it home in one piece. I do not like sleeping in strange places, unless I am familiar with the outlying terrain and I know how to walk home. Most people would not care about where they sleep, but after three years of heavy drinking/partying, I have come to realize that I do not like waking up on a random floor with shit stuck to my face from where I slept with my mouth open and drooled. I do not like the cruddy feeling after a night of heavy drinking and not being able to clean up properly. I also do not like waking up in a guy's bed and totally not remember why or how I got there...most men I know are slobs, and I might be sleeping in half eaten food, used condoms, and gods know what else.

So yes, I am staying in tonight. I hate it, since I feel very antsy at this point of the evening. I cannot get a hold of anyone I would really want to spend my time with this evening, and the sergeant, perhaps my best candidate for some entertainment, is still somewhere across the United States doing Army things. I am not calling the boy from the other night, ever. I would like to go out for a leisurely time, perhaps dinner, some drinks, and then whatever may come later on.

I would like to go out to eat, somewhere nice... It has been a while since I have treated myself to a full, sit down meal. Alas, I will probably munch on some olives and watch TV with my hand down my knickers. I have those nights more often than not.

I think what galls me the most is that I really do not have anyone to talk to...or anyone I would want to talk to at the moment. I abhor the telephone, but there are times when it is necessary to 'reach out and touch someone.'

Alas, enough of my complaining.

I have a lesson plan and mock syllabus to write by Monday.

I would like to sit back and enjoy a film, something light hearted, something silly. Maybe I will whip out my copy of Drop Dead Gorgeous...always makes me laugh.

Later....

My sister called me to come down to an apartment on the first floor of my building to celebrate a mutual friend's birthday. My sister's friend Marcia is one great gal, British, in her late 30s, married and now a RN. We ended up eating some horridly rich chocolate cake and watching Eternal Sunshine on a Spotless Mind...great film.

We have all been drinking wine, my local bottle, and some from a box (how chic). Somehow we ended up talking about me...why, I do not know. My sister, when drunk, gets very vociforous about my relationships with men...she is younger and for some reason is very defensive about my relationships and lifestyle. She is fine with how I have decided to live my life, but like most other people, she wishes I could find a man who will treat me right, marry me, tame me, etc.

I was telling her about the sergeant, and how, through simply talking with the man, I thought he was a nice guy, someone worth talking with, sleeping with, and in the very least, being friends with. Of course, the first mention that this man was in the military made my sister scoff. She now equates all men in the military with my ex boyfriend. Of course, I am not keen on men being in the military, but for chrissakes, I am not planning on forming some complex relationship with the sergeant...just fuckbuddies, or at least friends.

I love my sister dearly, and it is nice to know that she has me in mind as someone worth defending, but jesus...I sometimes would like to wring her neck. She and her husband have a good relationship and a working understanding, but she has worked for it. Personally, I must be too lazy, because I get bored with living and dealing with people for too long.

Ugh. So another night, another entry... Off to bed with thee.

Unsuccessfully Coping with the Natural Beauty of...

2006-09-15T20:02:00.000-05:00

It being an evening in which I find myself unoccupied and without company, I tend to sometimes turn maudlin and horridly introspective. However, I am simply wishing I had a corkscrew at this point in time...now that my wine is chilled.

I also go through cycles of music, I may have mentioned this in a previous entry...but at the moment, it is Type O Negative. This is a band I must be in the mood to listen to, and I am in the mood to listen to Peter Steele's bass voice. I used to really love to listen to his voice day in and day out...so unique and so stirring.

Back in 1995 or 1996, he posed for Playgirl...and I was in a flurry to find the pics. Hm... Six foot six man with long black hair, green eyes and ripped body, who wouldn't drool? I still fancy the man, what can I say?

At any rate, Type O is playing over the speakers, I am considering punching the cork down into the bottle just to drink this wine I bought, writing a bit, and then topping the night off with a couple Sudoku puzzles and then sleep.

Something to be said with so-called heavy metal...grinding guitar, heavy bass...gods. I just wish I could have 'Origin of Feces' on CD and finally retire my cassette.

In the meantime...a drabble:

She runs through the dark, her hands frantically thrashing to take control of her ripped clothing and to somehow soften the sting of branches slapping her exposed flesh.

She had said she wanted this...this game...but now, with the sound of his pants just behind her and his intermittent growls, she was no longer sure. In the moonlight, filtering through the skeletal branches, she had caught frightened glimpses of his green eyes and the white of his teeth. Oh, how she had wanted to be consumed by him, be marked by him, but not like this, not with her bare feet bleeding, her jeans torn by the brier brambles, her arms, chest and face bleeding in tendrils of black blood from the lashes of the thorns and branches.

Stumbling, she falls into the trunk of an ash tree, her arms flailing to hug the trunk for support. She feels her skin scrape against the bark, burning against her jaw. She had not meant to stop running, but her lungs are full of fear, unable to draw a precise breath...and in this pause he is upon her.

No scream erupts from her when he rips away her ruined shirt, the fabric soaked with her sweat...as worthless as tissue paper. Her embrace tightens about the slender tree as his warmth moves behind her, the air thick with his scent of burning leaves, earth, perspiration, musk and arousal.

His hand shoots out to grasp the back of her damp, shaggy hair, wrenching her neck and head backward with a strength that forces her to relinquish her hold on the ash tree. Unbalanced by her fright, she stumbles back into his body, sturdy and intimidatingly large.

She is shivering, her teeth chattering, her lips quivering. And as he wraps his thick arms about her body, she lets herself relish his warmth, the autumn night far too chilly for her sensibilities. His lips tease the clammy expanse of her neck, his nose taking in her scent of adrenaline and mortification.

A violent shove, and suddenly she is on the ground, the wet leaves no substitute for his body. She could almost taste the loamy soil and as he falls upon her, ripping away her useless brasserie, he scratches trails of pink down her back. She cries as he flips her onto her back, the stinging scratches aggravated by the twigs and acidic damp of the leaves against her skin. But before she can think another moment about her discomfort, he has descended upon her, his long black hair falling over her like a shroud. Searing heat envelopes her right nipple, teeth nipping, tongue swirling. And as his hands explore her cold skin, insinuating itself into her jeans, he growls deep in his throat as his long fingers are coated in her arousal.

She claws at his shoulders and he glances up curiously, his eyes luminescent in the bright moonlight. Shifting her hips, she whimpers, not so concerned about his touch on her clit, but to otherwise be filled in some manner. Now that he had her, now that she was leeching his warmth, she wants nothing more than to press herself against him, have him inside...

Raising slightly off her body, he rips at her jeans, and is soon successful in skinning her bare, she shivers at the lack of his body against hers... Her nipples tighten in the cold, her teeth chatter, but he does not move his body upward toward her. Instead, he tosses away the remaining clothing, only to lift her hips upward to taste her shaved core. Knees bent over his wide shoulders, he takes what he wants by coating his tongue, his stubbly face soaked with her juices. Tongue lashing, penetrating, she cries aloud. His hands bruise her hips, her thighs, and when she thinks she cab take no more, he lets her fall back into the cold ground.

Pale hands moving, the sound of his clothing protesting, ripping and falling away, she feels a wave of heat radiate from his taut form. Legs spread, he presses down into her body. It is an exquisite agony...flesh parting, yielding, stretching, relenting, and welcoming. She wants to fight him, to push him away, anything to stop the pain of intrusion. One thrust, then two, he hums his pleasure, and then lifts her upper body close to his...another thrust and she feels him move her over the ground.

The impact of the ash tree against her back knocks the breath from her lungs and in turn she tightens around him. He mutters incoherently in her ear, the timbre of his bass voice reverberating in her empty chest. As oxygen permeates her tissue again, he continues. She can only wrap her legs about his waist, her arms about his shoulders and bury her face in his dark hair.

Liquid fire fills her veins and her every breath as he moves inside her in shallow strokes, then long and deep thrusts, the head of his cock pounding against the entrance of her womb. He holds her tight, pressing her into the cold bark of the tree, angling himself upward so that her back rubs mercilessly into the sentinel-like ash.

He marks her neck and her shoulders with his teeth, and as she pants into his ear, her voice is mingled with half formed protests and proclamations, he pounds into her. She is melting against him, her pussy tightening as she draws nearer and nearer to the void...

This is what she wanted from him...unrestrained, raw fucking. She could almost love this man, but she did not want to think beyond what was happening at that very moment...his hand about her throat, forcing her whole body to contract and the wave of something greater than herself to crash over her mind, body and soul.

Le petit morte...an exquisite state of fleeting enlightenment, all by the will, desire and hand of the dark man who was pinning her against the ash tree in the middle of a nondescript wood.

Her climax triggers his, her pussy like a vise about his poignant intrusion...he can barely move as she holds him so tightly. With a beast like power, he thrusts, letting his hand slip from her slender and far too fragile throat. He grimaces, he growls, and his mouth falls slack as his verdant eyes roll upward to the heavens...

calcographer - (n.) - one who draws with crayons

2006-09-14T22:11:00.000-05:00

WVU vs. University of Maryland...at the moment, we're respectfully burying the Terrapins.

All the while, I am across the street relaxing after an eventful evening. I came home early, in hopes of securing my parking spot...successful. Ate, and began drinking at about 7 pm. By 7.30, I have a young, nubile young man at my disposal. This guy, I have not formally met until this evening. I have talked to him online, playfully, and Monday had to refuse him since my cold was far too horrendous for me to want to have anyone touch me.

Well, he most likely has my cold now. He came to my place, drunk... Granted, I usually do not take advantage of the young, but damn...he was willing, and more than ready by the sight of the tenting in his khakis. So, after resisting a bit...he was a bit too amorous, too quickly, I relented.

After the bed, contorting me all the ways I could bend my limbs (thank the gods for yoga), we ended up on the floor. Me screaming my myriad releases, and he panting above me...all the while swearing like a sailor...he found my toy box where I incidentally keep my condoms. Christ, I was vibrated and fucked into a haze, passing out once at the very least, and coming to, laughing.

I enjoyed myself, but was slightly annoyed...

This guy, who is just a one night stand obviously, was determined to penetrate another part of me... Granted, I enjoy anal sex, immensely so, but with people I can trust not to rush me or hurt me... And sometimes, I am just not up for it. Anal sex requires a little forewarning, a little preparation on my part, etc. I was slightly annoyed by his childlike persona, all of which I believe to be an act...and which I commented on extensively in the nicest way possible. I was blunt, I wanted to fuck, he wanted to fuck...just a means to an end...no need to play cute.

Therefore, I have proven to myself, once again, that younger men, as fun as they might be, are not necessarily the best lovers. This particular guy will definitely be a one night thing. He's a cute kid, a decent lay, but definitely not the type I would invest any time or energy in.

It is now Friday, and I am home again after a day. I had a dentist's appointment, well an appointment with my brother-in-law, who for $43 bucks cleaned my teeth to a high polish shine.

Fine thing though is now I am eating my dinner...a serving of sushi and ginger. Gods, I love sushi. I stopped by the grocer's on the way home...picked up two bottles of locally made wine (Forks of the Cheat River...Van Buren red wine...not too sweet, not too woody, full in flavor and scent...fantastic for local wine.), a jar of olives stuffed with garlic (one of my treats), some frozen pizzas, milk, some soda, and cereal. I should be set for a while. Good thing I got paid today. *smirk*

Nothing set up for the weekend besides some work. No plans to go out unless the mood suddenly strikes me.

I just have to laugh to myself, I was not planning on hooking up last night. I was perhaps the most unattractive gal around in an old Offspring T-shirt, running pants and wet hair. But it happened, I am sated for a while, and I just had sushi.

This cat is going to nap, and perhaps hunt a bit after dark.

dacrygelosis - (n.) - condition of alternating laughing and crying

2006-09-13T20:35:00.000-05:00

For all the political based posts, I would like to mix it up a bit and post this Youtube video.

I had gotten the Mp3 somewhere else a few weeks ago, but here's the video to it...

As an aside to my Bush bashing, I recieved an email through my Uni email, an annual public domain notice that as a citizen, I could go to my the State Police database for Sex Offenders. I did so, curious. In the county I grew up in, and where my mother and father still live, there are 17 listed sex offenders in my county. 17... 80% were white men over the age of 40, and there was only one white female listed. I did not recognize any of the names, but the surnames are familiar. In the county I live in currently, the number of sex offenders was double to my home county. Of course, I live in a more urbanized area now as compared to my home county which is 60% national forest.

I think what I am trying to get at is the fact that 17 known sex offenders in my home county is 17 too many.

I cannot abide sexual predators who prey on children. It is socially unnatural, it is ethically wrong...and despite my morals and ethics being as lax as they are, I cannot overlook those who would willing hurt and traumatize children who are supposed to be in the care of "these people."

On a less serious note, I can finally speak without frightening myself.

As the world turns.

2006-09-13T13:32:00.000-05:00

I took today off. I simply cannot go long without coughing and sounding like a barking coon hound...yes, the infamous coon hound cough. I called in and left a message with my cohabitant of the office, and then sent her an email, just in case she could not understand the message. Yes, I sound like an old man, and yes, my cold has dripped down from my head to my chest.

After taking about three doses of cold medicine last night, the phone rang at about 1030, frightening me out of a subtle doze. It was the sergeant. I was drunk on cold medicine, and sounded like I had smoked a carton of cigarettes that day, along with three handles of whiskey. He found it amusing, while I just blinked and stared at the ceiling from my place on my bed...wondering if I were dreaming this entire telephone call.

We talked for about 45 minutes...mostly him talking and me coughing. I made myself come across as a total ass, but I laugh about it... Fucking cold medicine reduces me to mental defective.

I am going to eat some ice cream, in hopes of soothing my throat a bit.

Tomorrow is another long day, and I can only hope to make it through without getting even more sick than I already am now.

More later...

After sleeping and hydrating myself, I am actually feeling a bit better...now 8pm.

I apparently have a dentist appointment on Friday, and called my brother in law about it...since he is my dentist. I just hope I can pay for whatever I am having done. Honestly, I cannot remember...hm.

I am going to make it another early night, methinks. I am totally wiped out.

kreatophagia - (n.) - the eating of raw meat

2006-09-12T18:37:00.000-05:00

Another long day with snot dripping from my head like a slow oozing pus filled wound. I really need to kick this damn cold. I was not sure if I was going to make it to my American lecture...but I did.

I came home to immediately take a long, hot shower...cool off on the couch watching Boondock Saints, one of my many favorites.

Last night, while trying to get something to make me sleep, I browsed Robert C. Byrd's website, the geriatric dynamo that represents my state. I have a great respect for the man, despite what many people think or feel about the man. In all honesty, many people have their own stories or sentiments on how Sen. Byrd has helped them personally, or helped their community in one way or another. This is man who is akin to the Pope in West Virginia...his acclaim and popularity is so great.

My family, all West Virginia born and raised, support Byrd for various reasons. Personally, I suppose Byrd because he is one of the few politicians that actually know how, why, and in what capacity our Constitution is to be used. He is a man who has studied history, and, like many men, has learned from the past mistakes of our forebears and most of all from ourselves. (hm, is my cold medicine kicking in, did that make any sense?) I believe in the literal and basic rights allowed us by the Constitution and the Bill of Rights...not some twisted, self-serving interpretation. (Same could be said about the Christian faith.) I do not support EVERYTHING Sen. Byrd believes. I do not agree with his views of gay marriage, the display of the Ten Commandments, Partental Notification of woman over the age of 18 being able to have the right to a private abortion, or his idea to 'fix' the No Child Left Behind nonsense...I also take some issue to his immigration policies, but when it comes to Iraq and the system of true checks and balances, oh hell yes. But who does fully support ever issue? I have not seen a politician yet who I was totally in favor of...100%...

I am a registered Democrat, but I am not a true Democrat by definition. I fit in, for the most part, with the party, but I also have a Libertarian sway...and a Socialist naivete. However, I could never, and I mean NEVER, condone the "Bushie" so-called neo-conservative Republican being in office...I do not like it, in fact I hate it, and I believe it has caused so much harm to this country...and undermined our civil liberties to the point that it would not be a far leap into an Orwellian nightmare...

*pant*

Who does the Bush administration think they are?

So...I am voting in November. I want the checks and balances that have defined our country to be possible once again. No more "Republican" ruled Senate, no more "Republican" ruled house... Democrats do not have all the answers, but I think they have some great ideas.

In fact, the two party system is...ugh.

At any rate, I respect Robert C. Byrd. And if anyone who is unfamiliar with the man, read this book:

I read this book in one day...I was riveted, horrified, and suddenly very, very angry. In one small hardback were all the things that had been troubling me with the Bush administration, 9/11, the American occupation of Iraq, etc.

This book is a relative 'easy-read' and is definitely worth the money to add to a personal library.

(Reviewed by Jana L. Perskie SEP 16, 2004)
There is a veritable plethora of political books on the market this election year. However, Senator Robert C. Byrd's, (D-W.Va.), is totally unique, given the author's background and point of view. Losing America: Confronting a Reckless and Arrogant Presidency is a searing indictment of George W. Bush's Presidency by a man who served under 11 US Presidents - beginning with Harry Truman. Senator Byrd's Congressional career, in both houses, has spanned more than 50 years. Only 2 other members of Congress had a longer tenure. He has held more leadership positions in the U.S. Senate than any other Senator of any party in Senate history. Sometimes called "the conscience of the Senate," this octogenarian patriot has dedicated his life to public service, and is considered to have a scholar's understanding of constitutional government. He is also the author of a four-volume history of the U.S. Senate

As much as I like and respect the Senator, I would never have bought and read his book if I had not heard him interviewed on TV last week. I thought I had read more than enough political memoirs this year. However, I heard Senator Byrd discuss the President's handling of the Iraqi War, other administration policies and attitudes, and the separation of powers, (a very important issue for me), and I realized I was, in fact, hearing some new information from a fresh perspective - information that I found extremely disturbing. I wanted to learn more.

Yes, this is a partisan senator's point of view. Is there any other kind? Are we to disbelieve all members of the loyal opposition, no matter what their record? I do think Senator Byrd very much wanted to support the president; indeed he reached out to do so, after the Inauguration and after September 11, 2001. He has a long history of working effectively with both Republican and Democratic administrations. However, things began to sour with what he saw as the "slow unraveling of the people's liberties." He believes that dangerous legislation was rushed through Congress, based on false information. Byrd was one of 21 senators who did not vote for the October 2002 resolution that authorized the use force to topple Saddam Hussein. He says that his Senate colleagues "stood passively mute...paralyzed by our own uncertainty, seemingly stunned by the sheer turmoil of events."

The Senator goes beyond criticizing the present government's preemptive strike, lack of post war planning and national security in general. He strongly condemns President Bush and his administration for their overall secrecy and "contempt for the balance of powers," what he sees as the erosion of constitutionally mandated separation of powers. He sees Bush and his advisers - Cheney, Rumsfeld, Ashcroft, Perle, Wolfowitz, etc., as dangerous, not only because of their "ill conceived" policies, but because they are intent on usurping the powers of the "the People's Branch of Government, Congress."

Senator Byrd argues his points well and backs them up with clear examples, and by describing encounters and discussions with President Bush, himself. They are quite similar to accounts reported by other recent political authors like Richard Clarke, Paul O'Neill and Bob Woodward. G. W. Bush was quoted in Woodward's recent book as saying, "I do not need to explain why I say things. That's the interesting thing about being the president. Maybe somebody needs to explain to me why they say something, but I don't feel like I owe anybody an explanation." That quote literally makes Byrd's hair stand on end. "Such hubris," he says. "Unmitigated arrogance. He's talking about the people here. That one little paragraph explains better than I could ever explain the contempt this man shows for the sovereignty of the people of this country."

This is a compelling and credible book. Occasionally the Senator takes too long to make his points, especially when comparing Bush with his predecessors...but he certainly does make them well. Ultimately he rallies all Americans, calling for the people to regain their Constitution, to return to the values and processes that made America great, and to speak the truth and demand the truth from our nation's leaders. BRAVO!

To add a bit more to my respect for the man who is my senator, I am also including a transcript of a speech he presented to Congress on October 17, 2003.

The Emperor Has No Clothes

In 1837, Danish author, Hans Christian Andersen, wrote a wonderful fairy tale which he titled The Emperor's New Clothes. It may be the very first example of the power of political correctness. It is the story of the Ruler of a distant land who was so enamored of his appearance and his clothing that he had a different suit for every hour of the day.
One day two rogues arrived in town, claiming to be gifted weavers. They convinced the Emperor that they could weave the most wonderful cloth, which had a magical property. The clothes were only visible to those who were completely pure in heart and spirit.

The Emperor was impressed and ordered the weavers to begin work immediately. The rogues, who had a deep understanding of human nature, began to feign work on empty looms.

Minister after minister went to view the new clothes and all came back exhorting the beauty of the cloth on the looms even though none of them could see a thing.

Finally a grand procession was planned for the Emperor to display his new finery. The Emperor went to view his clothes and was shocked to see absolutely nothing, but he pretended to admire the fabulous cloth, inspect the clothes with awe, and, after disrobing, go through the motions of carefully putting on a suit of the new garments.

Under a royal canopy the Emperor appeared to the admiring throng of his people - - all of whom cheered and clapped because they all knew the rogue weavers' tale and did not want to be seen as less than pure of heart.

But, the bubble burst when an innocent child loudly exclaimed, for the whole kingdom to hear, that the Emperor had nothing on at all. He had no clothes.

That tale seems to me very like the way this nation was led to war.

We were told that we were threatened by weapons of mass destruction in Iraq, but they have not been seen.

We were told that the throngs of Iraqi's would welcome our troops with flowers, but no throngs or flowers appeared.

We were led to believe that Saddam Hussein was connected to the attack on the Twin Towers and the Pentagon, but no evidence has ever been produced.

We were told in 16 words that Saddam Hussein tried to buy "yellow cake" from Africa for production of nuclear weapons, but the story has turned into empty air.
We were frightened with visions of mushroom clouds, but they turned out to be only vapors of the mind.

We were told that major combat was over but 101 [as of October 17, 2003] Americans have died in combat since that proclamation from the deck of an aircraft carrier by our very own Emperor in his new clothes.

Our emperor says that we are not occupiers, yet we show no inclination to relinquish the country of Iraq to its people.

Those who have dared to expose the nakedness of the Administration's policies in Iraq have been subjected to scorn. Those who have noticed the elephant in the room -- that is, the fact that this war was based on falsehoods -- have had our patriotism questioned. Those who have spoken aloud the thought shared by hundreds of thousands of military families across this country, that our troops should return quickly and safely from the dangers half a world away, have been accused of cowardice. We have then seen the untruths, the dissembling, the fabrication, the misleading inferences surrounding this rush to war in Iraq wrapped quickly in the flag.

The right to ask questions, debate, and dissent is under attack. The drums of war are beaten ever louder in an attempt to drown out those who speak of our predicament in stark terms.

Even in the Senate, our history and tradition of being the world's greatest deliberative body is being snubbed. This huge spending bill has been rushed through this chamber in just one month. There were just three open hearings by the Senate Appropriations Committee on $87 billion, without a single outside witness called to challenge the Administration's line.
Ambassador Bremer went so far as to refuse to return to the Appropriations Committee to answer additional questions because, and I quote: "I don't have time. I'm completely booked, and I have to get back to Baghdad to my duties."

Despite this callous stiff-arm of the Senate and its duties to ask questions in order to represent the American people, few dared to voice their opposition to rushing this bill through these halls of Congress. Perhaps they were intimidated by the false claims that our troops are in immediate need of more funds.

But the time has come for the sheep-like political correctness which has cowed members of this Senate to come to an end.

The Emperor has no clothes. This entire adventure in Iraq has been based on propaganda and manipulation. Eighty-seven billion dollars is too much to pay for the continuation of a war based on falsehoods.

Taking the nation to war based on misleading rhetoric and hyped intelligence is a travesty and a tragedy. It is the most cynical of all cynical acts. It is dangerous to manipulate the truth. It is dangerous because once having lied, it is difficult to ever be believed again. Having misled the American people and stampeded them to war, this Administration must now attempt to sustain a policy predicated on falsehoods. The President asks for billions from those same citizens who know that they were misled about the need to go to war. We misinformed and insulted our friends and allies and now this Administration is having more than a little trouble getting help from the international community. It is perilous to mislead.

The single-minded obsession of this Administration to now make sense of the chaos in Iraq, and the continuing propaganda which emanates from the White House painting Iraq as the geographical center of terrorism is distracting our attention from Afghanistan and the 60 other countries in the world where terrorists hide. It is sapping resources which could be used to make us safer from terrorists on our own shores. The body armor for our own citizens still has many, many chinks. Have we forgotten that the most horrific terror attacks in history occurred right here at home!! Yet, this Administration turns back money for homeland security, while the President pours billions into security for Iraq. I am powerless to understand or explain such a policy.

I have tried mightily to improve this bill. I twice tried to separate the reconstruction money in this bill, so that those dollars could be considered separately from the military spending. I offered an amendment to force the Administration to craft a plan to get other nations to assist the troops and formulate a plan to get the U.N. in, and the U.S. out, of Iraq. Twice I tried to rid the bill of expansive, flexible authorities that turn this $87 billion into a blank check. The American people should understand that we provide more foreign aid for Iraq in this bill, $20.3 billion, than we provide for the rest of the entire world! I attempted to remove from this bill billions in wasteful programs and divert those funds to better use. But, at every turn, my efforts were thwarted by the vapid argument that we must all support the requests of the Commander in Chief.

I cannot stand by and continue to watch our grandchildren become increasingly burdened by the billions that fly out of the Treasury for a war and a policy based largely on propaganda and prevarication. We are borrowing $87 billion to finance this adventure in Iraq. The President is asking this Senate to pay for this war with increased debt, a debt that will have to be paid by our children and by those same troops that are currently fighting this war. I cannot support outlandish tax cuts that plunge our country into potentially disastrous debt while our troops are fighting and dying in a war that the White House chose to begin.

I cannot support the continuation of a policy that unwisely ties down 150,000 American troops for the foreseeable future, with no end in sight.

I cannot support a President who refuses to authorize the reasonable change in course that would bring traditional allies to our side in Iraq.

I cannot support the politics of zeal and "might makes right" that created the new American arrogance and unilateralism which passes for foreign policy in this Administration.

I cannot support this foolish manifestation of the dangerous and destabilizing doctrine of preemption that changes the image of America into that of a reckless bully.
The emperor has no clothes. And our former allies around the world were the first to loudly observe it.

I shall vote against this bill because I cannot support a policy based on prevarication. I cannot support doling out 87 billion of our hard-earned tax dollars when I have so many doubts about the wisdom of its use.

I began my remarks with a fairy tale. I shall close my remarks with a horror story, in the form of a quote from the book Nuremberg Diaries, written by G.M. Gilbert, in which the author interviews Hermann Goering.

"We got around to the subject of war again and I said that, contrary to his attitude, I did not think that the common people are very thankful for leaders who bring them war and destruction.

". . . But, after all, it is the leaders of the country who determine the policy and it is always a simple matter to drag the people along, whether it is a democracy or a fascist dictatorship or a Parliament or a Communist dictatorship.

"There is one difference," I pointed out. "In a democracy the people have some say in the matter through their elected representatives, and in the United States only Congress can declare wars."

"Oh, that is all well and good, but, voice or no voice, the people can always be brought to the bidding of the leaders. That is easy. All you have to do is tell them they are being attacked and denounce the pacifists for lack of patriotism and exposing the country to danger. It works the same way in any country."

After all is said and done, I can only hope that I will see a turn in this tide of arrogance, hubris and apparently popular ignorance. And that is my entry for today.

Jagged...and Gary Numan...Surrealists...and snot.

2006-09-11T17:39:00.000-05:00

I am drowning in my own mucus. At least, I found today, I am not the only one with a cold.

After working a bit at my workspace at the library, I wiped everything down with a Clorox wipe...I mean everything I touched besides my face. The lady I share an office with is a bit of a germ-o-phobe...but I do not blame her.

I really was off my usual beat today, but thankfully, yes, thankfully, I have everything done and printed for the week. I need to go medicate myself a bit, take a nice hot shower and relax. Had an early supper, started watching 2010: Odyssey Two, and nearly knocked off to sleep.

I am currently listening to Gary Numan's new album, Jagged. And as always, I am not disappointed. The granddaddy of electronic and dark wave, I bow down to thee... Gary Numan is sex, plain and simple. I think he is a strange looking British man, but I cannot get over his sound or his voice.

Rambling on...I finished my analysis of Breton's first Surrealist Manifesto. Ugh.

Dada VS Surrealism?
Celebrity Death Match of my wildest dreams?
Oh hell yes.

Okay, I need to go drill a hole in my head to release the snot.

Thoughts on the 5th year anniversary of 9/11

2006-09-10T20:01:00.000-05:00

The weekend consisted, as I said in an earlier post, with my visiting my mother and grandmother. Always, absolutely always, we get on the topic of the so-called 'War on Terror' and our malcontent with our government.

Coming from a family with strong democratic ties and political activism, we often laugh when someone joins our conversation from the outside...joking that the Thought Police might just get us one day...or the NSA...

At any rate, the TV is playing all sorts of specials on 9/11, and I only paid attention to the one of NBC Saturday night with Tom Brokaw. It had to do with the air traffic controllers from Logan, Newark, Dulles and Cleveland, and what they saw and heard that morning five years ago.

After the programme went off, we, as in my mother, grandmother and myself, discussed what we remembered that morning.

My mother did not see anything on TV that day until the late afternoon, already herding 6th graders into her classroom...

However, that morning, I was smoking a cigarette on my grandmother's couch, after breakfast...a time to sit down before going off to class at one of my alma maters. I would always turn on NBC Today and listen to the morning headlines. As I began to wake from my stupor, I realized that Katie Courac suddenly stopped laughing as something came over her earpiece. Quickly, the local NBC affiliate in NYC was showing images of the burning tower...initial reports saying that a small plane had crashed into the WTC. It was an eerie sight, the voices slightly frantic. And what seemed only seconds later, from a high camera (possibly a from a chopper or a stationary tower cam), a blur passed toward the Towers and the second tower was blowing debris across the sky and a fire ball rose up unto the air.

I screamed. I remember screaming for my grandmother, and my teeth chattering. This was no accident, and I realized that we were under attack. How we were under attack, why or by whom was unknown, I just knew that I was witnessing an atrocity.

I reached for my grandmother, and we held each other while sitting on the couch, confused and frightened. Minutes passed, reporters speaking in stunned and shocked voices, describing what they were seeing...but we could see for ourselves...

What seemed like only 5 minutes later...the Towers fell.

I remember that I was crying hysterically and my grandmother was shivering.

Then the Pentagon was hit...and all time seemed irrelevant. Another plane went down in Pennsylvania, not 100 miles away from where I lived at the time.

We just sat on the couch, stunned, crying, confused, and wondering of all things...Why?

I did not go to class, so riveted to the TV...and after hours and a tray full of cigarette butts and a bin full of Kleenex, I had to step away. I knew we were at war...with whom, it did not matter. But once again in my life, I would know war. This thought frightened me just as much as seeing the second Tower hit.

For days afterward, the college I was attending was morbidly subdued, quiet...the few people that were talking were decrying the Bush administration for being so slack on national security... I had to tune it out.

Months passed, we found the culprit, Afghanistan was bombed back into the stone age...and suddenly...all too suddenly...we were in Iraq. I could not figure it out...not at all.

Now, five years later, I still cannot wrap my brain around it completely. I am suspicious, cynical, angry, and embittered...still. I do not know all the facts, history will only tell us someday, the truth for the most part. But I do know I can only go on living, just like everyone else.

All I can hope is that somehow the anger, hate and ignorance of the American people will abate somehow. Oh, what a vain wish.

In the meantime, I will remember and try to make the best of my rights as an American citizen...without prejudice or hate.