dandelionfiles

I'm BACK!

2008-03-24T12:59:00.002-04:00

Did you miss me? I'm in the process of shutting down my MySpace account, mostly because Pros has made me completely paranoid that I'll never get a full time teaching job if I have one. Therefore, I'll be moving things back to my Blogger account. So much has happened in the past couple of years, the greatest thing being the birth of my niece Gloria. Somehow, she lives up to that full of a name despite being only 10 months old.

I have missed the Dandelions.

I know, I know, I know

2007-03-13T17:38:00.000-04:00

So how is Lynx doing? I know, I know, I haven't been in touch much.. you would NOT believe how busy I've been, what with this new house we are building. (I did tell you about that, didn't I?)

Bill is doing fine over in the sandbox so far. He comes home in May, so we're halfway through this little version of hell.

Here is a recent pic of me, by the way. Just for you Lynx!

Goodbye, Molly--thanks for the fun

2007-02-01T11:13:00.000-05:00

The sun got a little dimmer yesterday, and I don't think it's going to be firing up any extra sunlight any time soon. I think that the sun is in mourning; Molly Ivins died yesterday.

I will miss her deeply. Her work was brilliant and beautiful. Molly's had a coping mechanism for dealing with social injustice that ought to be celebrated: "laugh -- it's so much better for you than crying or throwing up". So far, it's the only method I've found that makes life continue to be worth living with.

If an afterlife exists, it's obvious why the Management had to take Molly so soon. Obviously, God was jealous of all of the wonderful columns she waswriting. He must have felt she was wasting her talents upon us mere mortals. Like any good head hunter, He sought to rectify matters by hiring her as his personal reporter. All I know is that all evildoers in the underworld should beware--Molly's going to serve the Devil a new Hell.

Happy Birthday Jacklyn!

2007-01-26T08:38:00.000-05:00

I know this is late in coming--but two days ago the world had the occasion to celebrate the birth of a remarkable lady who sometimes contributes to this blog, Jacklyn Hyde.

THE BIRTHDAY DIRGE
tune: "Volga Boatmen"

Happy Birthday! Happy Birthday!
1. Now you've aged another year
Now you know that Death is near
Happy Birthday! Happy Birthday!

1a. So you've aged another year
Now you know that Death is near

(Nah, it isn't-let's be centarians together!)

I also wanted to say "thanks" to her because I can't think of many people who would actually offer to come to Lexington to help us despite the fact that it is best she takes care of herself and stays well (the pneumonia bug has Tony in the hospital with me to follow). We're OK, so do yourself a favor and relax and stay home and snuggle with Pros!

It's SOOO cool when one of the best people I've ever known in my life (yeah, that's you, Pros--I wanted to say that in writing) finds a woman who is equally remarkable and good for him to spend his life with--I knew I had to adopt her immediately as an honorary sister. We will be recovering, you two, and there's lots of fun concerts coming up next month, so we'll see what we can do to help you celebrate Heather's birthday properly!

Lynx

Dandelion Challenge--Due Date the New Year!

2006-12-25T09:16:00.000-05:00

It's time to issue another challenge to the writers on the Dandelions site. In honor of the Solstice, X-mas, Hanukkah, and all other hollidays we celebrate this time of year, I say it's time to honor an old Victorian tradition and polish our writing skills at the same time.

The Victorians believed that the time between Halloween and Christmas was significant because they felt that the border between the living and the dead was at its thinnest. For this reason, it was actually more traditional to tell ghost stories on Christmas Eve than Reindeer tales.

The challenge, therefore, is this: Write a post (not too long, of course--1,000 words or less, OK?) in which you depict a tale of horror fit to celebrate the shortest days of the year.

Promise, it'll make you feel good!

Lynx

Holliday Hollywood Cheeze-whiz

2006-11-23T21:25:00.000-05:00

*note: starfish is denying her engagement--which is fishy, because my source is pretty darned reliable. Hmmmm...however, in the interest of reporting the tooth and nothing but the tooth In the past, friends and I have tried to screen potential mates of Starfish's--you know, making sure the right number of heads are attached, they're not Republican, etc. It has long been my dream to one day view a new suitor while squinting my eyes, make a point of looking at his mouth, and scream loudly with abject abandon, "CHECK HIS TEETH"! at the top of my lungs whilst other friends in starfish's posse hold the poor sucker down, all the while laughing hysterically while Starfish plots vengence ("You'll get pregnant SOMEDAY, Lynx. JUST YOU WAIT"). For some reason, Starfish has refused to introduce the posse and me to possible suitors for a while. I wonder why?)

ANYHOW, The CURRENT ENTRY. Gossip time is OVER.

Holiday weekends often inspire marathon movie watching. As a horror fanatic, I wanted to indulge all of the Halloween spirits I was too busy writing studies to enjoy during the actual holiday itself. Technically, I’m still in the right time of the year to be plugging good spooky stuff. According to the Victorians, spook season lasts from Halloween until Winter Solstice, anyway—with Ghost stories told on Christmas eve rather than Reindeer tales.

Of course, Halloween has passed, so I admit that I’m going to recommend the genre of horror that goes well with the cheeseballs and crackers of the season—cheesy horror, or horror with a side of humor. Here are three movies worth watching during this wacky weekend:

1. Slither—This little 2006 movie was underappreciated. Serenity fans will recognize Nathan Fillion, the commander of the now defunct series that should have gone on for much longer. He’s our lead hero here, mooning over lost childhood love, portrayed by Elizabeth Banks. That’s the romance angle—all movies have to have one, or else some horrific consequence too awful to contemplate occurs (having never seen one of these films without a romance of some sort, I don’t know what the awful thing is). Fortunately, this movie spares no expense at portraying slime and grossouts, so the romance can’t possibly make the movie too gushy.

The lead beastie is NOT following the current clichés, so fans can cheer while yelling “NO ZOMBIES OR VAMPIRES, HURRAH!” whilst saluting appreciation towards the creators. Instead, the menace is brought to earth through a meteor rock which hatches into an ancient species which infects whatever species are on a planet, breeds, and consumes it until everything is dead, whereupon it becomes yet another space meteor in search of new dining adventures. The beastie has a “hive mind” in which anything that is infected with it is instantly conscious of everything that any other infected thing can perceive as well as has full access to everybody’s memories, knowledge, and skills.

2.Shawn of the Dead—OK, OK, so zombies infect this flick. However, realize this flick is a few years old, hence, zombies were still new when it was originally conceived instead of the clichéd annoyances they are now. In fact, a lot of the current clichéd annoyances have tried to rip of this flick, as it was genuinely original and amusing to watch. There’s several layers of story here—a man finding his inner adult yet learning how to connect with his immature past constructively, a lost relationship he’s not ready to give up on, and a beer joint that he can consider his second home. Brilliant dialogue, laugh-out funny lines, and intelligent, thoughtful, quirky characters make this one a winner worth viewing again.

3. Tremors--yes, the original--it's the best one, after all--this one is the ORIGINAL cool horror flick in which people brilliantly work together to outwit mysterious wormlike people eating creatures who have decided the small town of Perfection, Nevada, which is geographically isolated from everything and four hours from help would make the perfect buffet dining meal. Kevin Bacon justifies his existence in this film. The writing is hip, amusing, the characters hysterical, eccentric, and altogether too much like relatives you won't admit to. If you have not seen Tremors, you have been cheated--this is worth watching, you get actual characters who think and plot and outsmart the monsters, and that's unique enough to make this one an all-time classic.

Have a great Turkey Day!

Eureka Moments

2006-11-03T12:05:00.000-05:00

I wanted to give you an excuse for the reason I haven't been writing here--I've just finished my THIRD ethics committee set of forms for my THIRD and most complex study that I will be acting out in the near future.

Which is good news, because I really, really, need to finally get credit for stuff that I do, rather than write stuff, have folks publish it under their names, then completely ignore that I exist.

Not that I'm BITTER about that. OK, I AM. But, sigh, that's life, and I need to get over it.

Anyhow, I feel like Milgram's channelling through me, my last study is just so wicked. I am so proud. Devil horns even sprouted from my skull as I finished printing the thing out. Heh, heh, heh.

Wish me luck.

Where the hell am I?

2006-11-02T09:51:00.000-05:00

dandelionfiles Okay, I haven't moved. But did Lynx get my new phone number? Does Lynx remember me?

If Lynx remembers me...

He's going overseas again. That is all I can say. You should know what I mean by that.

Missing my favorite Islander

2006-10-12T19:55:00.000-04:00

Wanted to make a note on behalf of one of the Surtsey Islander, whose Lovecraftian origins of her blog name reveal just how cool a writer she really is:). Tragically, she's been put into a position in which she can't contribute as often as we'd like her to, and until Internet access is properly restored she won't be updating very much.

Hopefully, this will be fixed ASAP--I for one adore her work and want a new fix of her writing as soon as possible .

I'll be posting an update next week, as I'm trying to keep up with graduate responsibilities despite myself. I'll get some new postings on in the next couple of weeks or so, OK?

Hopefully, the Surtsey Islander will be returning soon as well, as her posts make this blog a heck of a lot more fun to read!

Lynx

Alabaster, baby!

2006-10-03T08:34:00.000-04:00

"ONE OF US! ONE OF US! ONE OF US!"

"Jules?" My inner animus was worried as he stared at me as I chanted and danced, the book Alabaster by Caitlin Kiernan still clutched within my hands. I swirled around, raising the book high in the air, worried the sunlight might damage it. I couldn't stop chanting:

"ONE OF US! ONE OF US! ONE OF US!"

"Jules, stop it! Tod Browning has demonically possessed you again! You are not in the 1932 Horror film, "Freaks" and you never were!" My inner animus wrung his hands.

"ONE OF US! ONE OF US! ONE OF US!"

"I'm going to take the book AWAY from you if you don't shut up."

The threat was enough to calm me down. My animus is ingenious when it comes to hiding things. Do you know what that man has done to my KEYS? Besides, just getting a HOLD of the book was hard enough--I had to SPECIAL ORDER the thing from Borders in Miamisburg, OH just to be able to get near the thing.

It's one of the complaints I have about bookstores--they don't CARRY ENOUGH of Caitlin Kiernan's writing for my tastes. This is a real shame, since she's a fine author and modern Lovecraftian who deserves to be read as much as possible.

The worst part of the fact that it's so hard to find Kiernan's work is this: you have to have read all of her previous work in order to properly appreciate and admire "Alabaster". The reason for this is simple: Alabaster is a book that stars a supporting character from her book Threshold, the first book I ever even SAW in a local bookstore, which is how I found out she EXISTED outside the comic book world as an author to BEGIN with (she wrote some storylines for a series based upon Gaiman's Sandman called "the Dreaming"). As an unrepentant book addict, I sympathize with all book addicts--especially Lovecraftian ones, and the fact you can't FIND her work easily is a mite bit unfair, especially when you consider the ubiquity of really crappy work that usually takes up shelf space HER work should have.

Kiernan actually writes REAL horror, folks. She doesn't try to package horror as "Harlequin with fangs", she doesn't try to make it pretty, she actually writes good, frightening stories with complexities, which is something the horror field desperately needs. Kiernan is the perfect anidote to a phenomena that's needed countering for some time now: the idea of "sex symbol heroine in brief clothing that looks hot whilst slaying evil beasts".

"Alabaster" is about a teenage girl who has been contacted by an angel to slay beasties for it, and Kiernan doesn't whitewash anything about just how horrible being a hero could possibly be. Dancy Flammarion is the name of this character, and she inspires readers to chant "ONE OF US" because Kiernan explains that she is an albino--someone without pigment in her skin, someone who has pink eyes and white hair and no ability to deal with sunlight, someone who is regarded as a Freak like the Tod Browning 1932 movie was all about. In another book, she'd be exploited within a circus, but in Kiernan's hand the question becomes, "Is she being exploited by God"?

The character even finds aspects of herself questioning her duties, arguing with her face in the bathroom mirror, her questions often manifesting strongly as voices she hears from the monsters themselves before she kills them. She can't help but wonder: what kind of angel would demand for a vulnerable child to travel the country homeless to slay monsters, anyway? What kind of God would think this sort of thing is fair? The worst questions she keeps asking herself won't go away--as she must steal food from a place she has to destroy on the angel's orders, she tries to justify her theft because she knows stealing is wrong: "She rolls the top of the paper bag down tight and tells herself it's not stealing, not really, that she's not taking much and nothing that she doesn't need, so whatever it is, it isn't stealing." She thinks about the deaths she has caused, wondering if she has done the right thing, and asks, "Is this what you want from me?" What kind of God demands such a horrible vengeance instead of forgiving? Wouldn't a true angel figure out a way to feed someone working for him? Who is this angel, anyway?

Kiernan claims that she won't write about Dancy Flannarion again, which is a shame--Dancy's too intriguing to leave behind forever. As a fan, I hope that Kiernan changes her mind. The book is clever in that Kiernan never allows the reader to settle any questions, even weaving Dancy's angel into stories from another series of novels(Silk and Murder of Angels) in which a woman allows her pathology and psychic power to destroy the woman she loves for an imaginary "justice", almost destroying the world in the process--leaving the reader to even wonder if God had anything to do with this angel to begin with. One of the reasons Kiernan is a genius is that she understands that complacency and belief without evidence is dangerous--her stories reflect this belief continuously. Characters who allow themselves to take easy answers usually die horribly at the hands of the supernatural beasts in front of them.

If you've read Threshold and can't forget about Dancy Flammarion, GET THIS BOOK. If you haven't--pick up Threshold first before you special order it. Heck, do yourself a favor and pick up Silk and Murder of Angels as well, because they're spooky and too much fun to miss. Either way, if you're reading anything by Kiernan, expect to enjoy a delightful author.

Book Reviews Continued

2006-09-20T08:16:00.000-04:00

In the Company of Ogres by A. Martinez--
For those of us who get really upset when we realize Terry Pratchett intends upon retirning sometime soon, let this book give us hope. It's funny, amusing, and Martinez's comic skill is indeed improving with his successive books. A good time, and a fun read.

Snobs--Joseph Epstein--a book reviewed far more wittily by the New York Times, but still delightful enough to plug here. Snobs (the American Version) is a fabulous guideline and even an antidote to all things snotty.

The Last Days--
Yes, Westfield has written a sequel to Peeps which is quite amusing. Go check it out.

Until next week's entry!

Life Update

2006-09-15T20:02:00.000-04:00

Hello, total stranger,
Welcome to the Dandelion files for your total emotional voyeuristic enjoyment--all the sass, plenty of ack--heck, I can't pronounce anything anymore, I've been up way too many hours to speak coherently, so let's not try to finish the rhyme until I've had a little shuteye, OK? Would you be OK with waiting until I can put two thoughts together and have them make sense again?

In case you're wondering, yeah, the bad things you heard about me are mostly true. I'm all grown up, but despite all personal growth and effort, I STILL have big ass problems. In my defense, however, may I at least point out that my problems are a heck of a lot more complicated and interesting than they were twenty years ago? Is that not some sort of progress? I may not be that perfect image of whatever someone's supposed to be--that misty idealistic image people get in their heads when they don't want to hurt their brains by allowing themselves to notice the nuances of everyone around them--but I've managed to delude myself into believing that I'm basically trying to live a virtuous life and do the best I can, and right now that's good enough.

Enough about me--seriously, I've just had too damn much of me lately. Every day, every moment I know more about me than any sane human being could possible want to understand. I need a change of venue, a point of view that is currently hidden from me.

Do me a favor and tell me about what it means to be you. Do you have any life updates you'd like me to witness? Heard any funny stories lately? Had the chance to star in one? Sigh, I guess that just makes one of us, then--God knows you're too dignified for that sort of thing. Me? I can't afford to take myself too seriously--my entire being rebels the moment I try to be prim or proper, and disaster has occurred. I stand up straight and my bra decides to snap. I take a deep breath. feeline that oneness with the universe and suddenly I'm sneezing. The serious life isn't meant for me--I'm constitutionally unfit for it.

How about you? Let me know, OK?

Your secret admiring fan who is too broke to buy the nifty souvenirs you sell,

Lynx

Fall Book Recommendations!

2006-09-04T11:19:00.000-04:00

Yeah, yeah, yeah—I should be reading my assignments and ignoring fun reading, now that I'm back at my doctoral program. Well, I am keeping up with reading my assignments—it's only my divergences to reading fun stuff that prevents from hacking my eyes out at some of the agonizing academic writing, OK? Give me a break.

The Town that Forgot How to Breathe, by Kenneth Harvey. Remember how I lamented that the entire horror genre was transmogrifying into bodice rippers featuring fanged or furry Lotharios? This is the book that soothed me, convinced me that the horror genre isn’t dead just quite yet.

Lamb, by Christopher Moore. I’d tell you about this book, but I’m too busy laughing. Pat, a friend of ours and fellow book addict, took a brief peak at a section of this book. After he was able to stop laughing long enough to breathe, he said, “Is there a Christian Fatwa on Christopher Moore, you know—like Salmon Rushdie had to endure for the Satanic Verses?” (The book retells the story of Christ, seen from the eyes of his best buddy Biff, who was left out of the original texts.) It was only after I was able to reassure him that true Christian fanatics couldn’t read or else they’d never approve of their own bible that he was able to relax again. Fortunately for all of us, the inability of psycho Christian Fanatics who believe authors should be killed to string sentences together in their heads will keep Christopher Moore alive and well and able to freely publish as many books as his sick imagination and agent force him to.

The Strange Adventures of Rangergirl by Tim Pratt—just a lot of fun, so give it a shot. I can’t resist any fantasy fiction that combines alternate dimensions, the modern art world, and Western clichés into a rumbling, amusing text.

That’s it for now, as I have a study methodology to rewrite!

Dust Jackets Strike Again: The Glass Books of the Dream-Eaters

2006-08-31T17:33:00.000-04:00

I've been stepping out of my nonfiction niche quite a bit lately. This is mostly thanks to Lynx (although she would probably rather be reading social psychology studies, as she would be the first to tell you); she has excellent taste in fiction and has recently shared gems like Anansi Boys, Shadows Over Baker Street and the pretty fricken funny oeuvre of Jasper Fforde. I'll have a ways to go before having her ability to sort chocolate from s**t without actually having to taste, er, read it. However, since she is busy with her brilliant career in social psych, I've been forced to strike out on my own lately, and this is the conclusion I've been forced to come to:

Book dust jacket blurbs are ridiculous pieces of crap.

OK, not so much with the elegant phrasing, but I speak as I find. Certainly the last book I just read, The Glass Books of the Dream-Eaters by Gordon Dahlquist, was not at all well-served by the individual who wrote the summary on its dust jacket. And before I go on, I do want to reassure those who did read this book and think that it's the greatest thing they've ever experienced (I know you're out there, this is the Internet) that I'm not just picking on this book to pick on it. But I reserved the book from the library, opened the dust jacket and read such hypetastic statements on its dust jacket as, ahem, "a bold and brilliant work of the imagination" that "shatters conventions" and "seethes" with "eroticism": in short, "a novel for the ages." And I'm done with dust jackets hyping the living crap out of every book, ever. So I'm calling this particular book out purely as an example. I also apologize for the lack of concrete examples in the following, but the book has now been returned to the library and is therefore out of easy reach.

Glass Books (may I use that abbreviation? I really hate those acronym-style abbreviations. Thank you) is a great read. Awesome heroes who you are rooting for throughout the book? Check. (Especially Miss Temple, who the author refers to throughout the book, rather cheekily, as "Miss Temple," even though we know her first name about a hundred or so pages in.) Villains who are completely hissable? Check. A pace so fast that 700+ pages go by in what seems like two hours? Absolutely. Cool science fiction elements? Check. (I love anachronistic technology in a nineteenth-century setting, so I have a bias there.) On the debit side, it also has the following: about three or four too many bad guys, some of whom spend way too much time twirling their metaphorical moustaches; some plot conventions that The Bold and the Beautiful rejected as too much like a soap opera, including the old "listening on the other side of the door as the evildoers discuss their plans at length" chestnut; and at least one female hero (I also hate the term "heroine") that has probably made my dentist a very happy man, since my teeth ground together every time she showed up to blunder her way into danger and require rescue. Fortunately, or unfortunately depending on your point of view, she doesn't show up until about halfway through the book... not a sign of great plotting in my opinion.

At any rate, this book isn't "brilliant." It may put some elements together in a way I haven't seen before, but those elements don't seem particularly original in and of themselves, at least to me, and I'm not a voracious reader of fiction (see first paragraph above). And the book itself is pretty competently but not masterfully written. (On a side note: I've found some of BUST Magazine's three-page One-Handed Reads more erotic than anything I found in this book. Perhaps someone else would be more jazzed by the supposed erotic content, but I'm not, perhaps because much of it involves various scenarios of people, mostly women, being coerced into sexual experiences.) But none of these things mean this book is a waste of mine or anyone's time. Reading it entertained the hell out of me. I even went so far as to mentally cast the movie in my head. (No, I'll never tell... not like any of them would actually get cast. Please, y'all.)

Overall, the book reminded me of a really good gaming campaign. Let's see: lots of action, multiple (and sometimes confusing) points of view, an eeeeeeeeeeeevil conspiracy at the heart of the story with thoroughly sinister and powerful bad guys. Not to mention that most of the action is episodic and bears a strong resemblance to hack and slash: enter chamber, find villain & treasure, defeat villain (or get ass kicked), take treasure/info (or not: see "get ass kicked"). That, played around a table or enacted in the open air with good friends, is a great time, but it ain't brilliant, or convention-shattering, or for the ages. (I did find myself wondering at several points in the book how the Order of the Stick would have handled the situation. I would imagine that number one on their agenda would have been to dispose of the annoying female hero at the first opportunity.)

In other words, the dust jacket hype actually did the text itself no favors. After having read The Glass Books of the Dream-Eaters, I'm pretty sure that Mr. Dahlquist is going to write more and better books, and that I'm going to read them. But if I hadn't actually decided to read the book before seeing a physical copy and reading the nonsense spouted on the jacket, I probably a) would have put the book back down in disgust, if I were a cynic, or b) been horribly disappointed in the book, if I were gullible. So the hyperbole served no purpose whatsoever, other than to take one more step towards making the words "brilliance," "convention-shattering," and "for the ages" (and, in my opinion, "eroticism," although that's more a personal taste thing) absolutely meaningless. Pfui, as Nero Wolfe would say.

Trigger For Multiple Sclerosis Found!

2006-08-27T18:43:00.000-04:00

One possible cause of multiple sclerosis is the idea that there may be a "Trigger" of some sort. The idea here is that the person would not have MS normally, but since he or she contracts this bacteria or virus at a critical point during his or her physical development of the immune system while growing up, the trigger virus or bacteria skews the immune system so that the immune system begins to attack the person instead of pathogens.

I, however, am fortunate that I have SEEN the trigger virus. Behold a Christmas Picture of the Evil Villian--I took a drop of my blood out in early December, and here is what I found in my handy-dandy petri dish.

Astonishing, eh? I propose we call the new, evil entity the "Cthulhu virus" in honor of H.P., who also had to struggle against a disease that compromised his physical abilities.

(***Picture was ripped off from a wonderful blog on Lovecraft on MySpace. Please forgive me!)

Egg Shape? Huh? Or--proof I am finally getting old.

2006-08-09T18:40:00.000-04:00

I never thought it could happen--I never realized that one day I, too, would look upon fashion bewildered, asking, "this is supposed to be attractive?". I am now officially a "fuddy duddy" and "not with the times" and instead of upsetting me, I am convinced it's a sign of maturity.

I've disagreed with other fashion trends recently, but I was able to deny just how unhip I was becoming. After all, I was able to justify my anti 1980's rerun fashion attitude by claiming a traumatic past (ie, having actually have had to have lived through the eighties and seen them firstand), but I can deny maturity no more. I have seen the newest trend of fall fashion, and it is butt-ugly. What's worse, I originally believed the new trend was a practical joke instead of serious.

Maybe being unhip isn't such a bad thing, though. It at least means that I hopefully will not be spending money and donning the butt-ugly attire and feeling incredibly unattractive the entire time. Two words, folks: EGG SHAPE. Remember how, exactly, an egg is shaped--narrow and round at the top, thick and puffy at the middle, narrow at the bottom. This is the shape that people usually try to avoid, as it indicates a higher risk for heart attack. It is now the shape of clothing, with actual wires inserted into the garment to poof it out so it doesn't suggest that anything remotely human is donning it. The effect the garments have upon models is to make them look deformed. The effect it will have upon the average human being is that we will all suddenly resemble teletubbies.

Sigh--I just don't get fashion anymore. Are there any special geriatric pills that I now must invest in?

Lexington Rocks

2006-08-09T18:35:00.000-04:00

The new apartment is BEAUTIFUL. This is one of the two art deco style motifs on our living room fireplace. Cool, eh?

So we did survive the move, with no serious complications. The cats have defied expectations of mental collapse and have instead learned to cooperate and get along better than they ever had before. Granted, this means that we now have twice the amount of expensive tuna packages or cat toys suddenly delivered to our door by befuddled UPS guys saying, "Delivery for Meow?" but the peace is pleasant enough to make everything worth the bother.

Now, all I have to do is go back to complete my Ph.D. Will my immune system let me? Sheesh.

If you're bored...

2006-08-08T23:56:00.000-04:00

... I'm currently blogging my wedding weekend over at http://jacklynhyde.blogspot.com/

Moving

2006-07-26T13:46:00.000-04:00

Good thing I'm not superstitious--any signs for this move are looking horrific. Not even bringing up the fact that both of us have been sick with fevers over 100 degrees, the house itself is throwing a hissy.

I can't believe I am admitting this fact in public. Maybe the fever's to blame, but it's as if the house doesn't want us to leave. Weird things are happening that I can't easily explain away. Here's some examples that have always been about:

1.) Things often fall or move without human or physical intervention.
2.) Orbs have been spotted on photos--I used to blame bad lighting, of course, but right now I'm sick and my imagination's getting the better of me so I'm entertaining the idea that it may be something else.
3.) We've always had problems with the phone--the wiring is old, this is a house with a good history, but there have been times that the phone has been willfully disconnected without feline or human intervention (though the bill has been paid). It's as if someone or something is trying to protect us from a dangerous phonecall or something--I have always felt welcome and safe in here, as if whatever is in here approves enough of me to put up with me. The only way to do this involves going upstairs to an impossible to reach area by cats and pulling out wires to that connect our phones to the main lines. This has occurred several times since I've lived here.
4.) We've got great ghost stories from other people who have lived here. Sasha was nursed by a kindly ghost during a severe fever here, other tenants have sworn they've seen people dressed in clothing that is centuries old. All reports of the ghosts have been positive--whatever is here appears to be good, decent folk and therefore I can't help but respect and appreciate them.
5.) The ferret's sudden decline in health and demise (this will be its own entry)

We're moving so that I can finish my Ph.D. Question is, will I be ABLE to? I'm not in remission for Multiple Sclerosis--my brain still has problems even though I've worked my ass off and I take all medications required, no matter how unpleasant. I'm terrified. Yes, Tony will be with me this time--I won't be alone and I'll know why I'm feeling the symptoms I suffer though, I have coping mechanisms installed and ways to double check and correct for the mental errors, but am I being unrealistic to even try for my Ph.D.? I want to be competent and contribute to my field. Will this even be possible with this condition?

I love this house. I like our neighbors, our location, the house, I'm even attached to the ghosts that I don't technically believe in, they are nice folk. I love Dayton, even if it does have an inferiority complex. I just don't want to waste my life by giving up too easily. Am I headed for failure? Everyone's been greatly encouraging, but I work and work and don't feel secure at all in my ability. Course, I never felt secure to begin with, but will I ever be able to succeed?

The ferret died, my hope is on its last legs, whatever's made me sick has made me even sicker--I don't know if we're kidding ourselves to believe I can finish my Ph.D. program and be a competent professor. Tony's convinced I'm underestimating myself, but he hasn't gone to the same room seven times because he suddenly cannot remember why he's in the room to begin with. I've always been absent minded, but there's an added dimension that I may not be able to correct for.

dandelionfiles

2006-07-22T11:51:00.000-04:00

I've always wondered. What exactly is the difference between a blog and a message forum?
dandelionfiles

The work situation

2006-07-12T10:09:00.000-04:00

Let's face it, my dear Dandelions. There is no teaching work in this part of the state because of a combination of terrible funding and declining enrollment (probably caused by said terrible funding). That being said, I'm suddenly finding myself employed outside of my intended field. I'm working for Pros' mom! I'm told that the majority of people in my husband's life eventually work his mother. In this case, it's a good fit because I'm desperate for work and she's desperate for semi-skilled labor. Granted, I'm not actually an accountant and much of this work eludes me intellectually, but I have an office with a huge window and enough down time that I can catch up on my blogging!

Oh, and for those who know Mama Cantata personally (ie Lynx), she's doing really well after her surgery but still has a few months of icky stuff ahead of her before she's 100% in the clear. She's also decided to make me a part of her family, which is more important than any job could be.

Really need to finish the wedding blogging on my own site!

This Survey is Different!

2006-07-10T15:34:00.000-04:00

Yet another survey, but this one is new.

Things you may not have known about me.

A. 4 jobs I have had in my life.....
1 - Acme - Cashier. Nothing exciting there.
2 - Intersearch - The annoying person calling you during dinner to ask "a few brief questions" about everything you buy, eat or watch on TV.
3 - Barnes & Noble - The one shelving the New Age / Religion section who gets all the weird stalkers.
4 - Franklin County Educational Service Center - Stunt double for your regularly scheduled teacher.

B. 4 movies I would watch over and over.......
1 - The Muppet Movie (of course)
2 - People Will Talk (odd Cary Grant flick)
3 - Monty Python & the Holy Grail (no, I don't quote it all the time)
4 - Hannah and Her Sisters (Woody Allen at his warmest)

C 4 places I have lived....
1 - Roslyn, PA
2 - Cheltenham, PA
3 - Allentown, PA (I am SO SICK of the Billy Joel song)
4 - Columbus, OH

D. 4 TV shows I love to watch.....
1 - Last Comic Standing
2 - Rock Star Supernova
3 - Project Runway
4 - The Daily Show (as a break from my reality TV addiction)

E. 4 places I have been on vacation.....
1 - Orlando, FL (with Laurali)
2 - all over Israel
3 - Outer Banks, NC
4 -

F. Websites I visit daily (a few times a week).....
1 - MySpace
2 - Fark (odd news coverage)
3 - Reality Thumbnails (if you haven't, read my articles on there!)
4 - Internet Movie Database

G. 4 of my favorite foods....
1 - matzo ball soup, particularly from Katzinger's Deli
2 - pasta with pink sauce
3 - yellowtail sushi
4 - ice cream

H. 4 places I would rather be right now
1 - Somewhere in the Mediterrenean
2 - A resort in the Catskills
3 - A cruise to Alaska
4 - The beach in Maine

Congrats to a Great Couple!

2006-06-28T12:34:00.000-04:00

The weekend was set aside for something beautiful and big: Pros and Jacklyn's wedding! It was a beautiful thing, wrapped in love from close friends and affection from relatives. The ceremony was performed by Cats, who visits Jacklyn's blog reguarily. Gourmet food was served, the scenery was top notch, and the mandolin was played specially for the ceremony by Jacklyn's very cool little brother

Of course Jacklyn was gorgeous. Mind you, she always is:. Pros looked fabulous in his tux. The setting was amazing--Green Gables, PA, where all the geese came out to play:).

My pictures don't do justice but they'll have to do until the professional's work comes in.

CONGRATULATIONS TO A WONDERFUL COUPLE!!!

A couple of pics for the crowd--

Creative Lying: A lost Art? The Dande-Lying Contest!

2006-06-20T01:37:00.000-04:00

I never thought I'd see the day when I had to rue the lost art of lying well. However, one look at the Personal ads Starfish was wading through, and I felt the need to lament. Hell, our own president can't lie worth a damn, and when our leaders can't lie convincingly, what does this mean for the rest of us? As an American citizen, I am concerned.

Poor lying ability is most obvious when glancing at personal ads. I can't even claim regional problems, as conversations with single friends in Atlanta, Chicago, Washington DC, and Cleveland revealed similar sentiments after viewing these pathetic things. At least the Buddhists can claim that since the self doesn't exist it doesn't matter what you say about it. Since most of the ads I read claimed Christianity as the religious sect, what is the excuse?

When did negative self-disclosure suddenly become seen as a "sexy quality" for a personal ad, anyway? I mean, do you really want random strangers to know that at age thirty-three you still wear Underoos (TM)? Is it really time to disclose that you find everything about feminity something contemptable when searching for a woman to perform the horizontal bop with?

Why not simply be trite and save time by not wasting words--I mean, "Wanna Whomp" is a classic pick up line that I personally have never had refused. Hell, the simple LOUD statement of "It's so long since I've had sex that I forgot who ties down the chicken" stated in a bar whilst quaffing a black-and-tan (remember, a long time is relative--a mere twenty-four hours is an entire LIFETIME for a tse-tse fly, hence this statement could be stated with utmost sincerity after you left your latest tryst five minutes ago if you have a proper short-lived species in mind) at least won me a pocketfull of napkins with various phone numbers, another beer, and a delicious french kiss by a long-lashed cutie named Kevin. If someone as unusual as I can enjoy such fortune, why can't the Underoos guy find at least temporary bliss? If only he knew how to lie. How will the next generation get born if we can't at least delude ourselves into believing in long-term relationships again?

It is for this reason I have to suggest a new "Dandelion Files" feature--namely, the DandeLying contest. People should send entries of accomplished liars directly to the electronic mail address for me--lynx_cat2005@yahoo.com, and I will, in turn, share them with the other Lions on our site. We will then review these entries, a vote will be taken, and the prizewinners will receive some token of a gift, if only virtual, from all of us.

I also wanted some suggestions for prize awards to be given: most likely to have dissociative disorder (ie, multiple personalities) is one which came to mind quickly after seeing one accomplished liar manage not just one unlikely entry, but seven or eight on the very same dating service. We could give awards for things such as: Best baldface liar, most malicious liar, most likely to have a wife and two children at home liar--the list goes on, but I need your imput!

US Men need help, and the Dandelions are here! As a nation, we can't simply stand for our politicians and presidents being the most obvious liars--we need good liars at home, too.

What do you think?

A Homage Story to Neil Gaiman and Tori Amos, for Andree I met travelling Greyhound

2006-06-06T18:04:00.001-04:00

Journal found in Baltimore, MD

5/14/06

I don’t remember writing the grafitti I just found scrawled in the bathroom stall. I LOVE SCARLETT and there are lip prints where someone kissed the door in dark red lipstick. The handwriting is definitely mine, but why would I write a love note to someone named Scarlett, anyway? I mean, I’m hitched and straight, right? At least, I was before I found him in bed with Marcy, when I ran out of the house and to the Greyhound station. I mean, it was the day I found out my entire department had been cut from Miskatonic because it wasn’t controversial enough—I had applied for tenure and it had looked promising, and then—no funding, no job. Realizing I didn’t have Josh just added insult to injury, and—it’s as if reality slipped and spun and I was doing things that I normally would never do. I stole all the cash from our joint checking, bought travel stuff, dumped the Benz in the river (it seemed fitting), and I’ve been traveling Greyhound ever since. I don’t know when I’ll stop, and I don’t remember last Tuesday. I don’t even remember what Josh looks like anymore.

This is the first time I can think of that I was irresponsible, ever. I’ve always done “the right thing”—went to the right schools, said the right things, worn the right clothes, and where did it get me? I can’t recognize anything and my face gets stranger every day. I don’t even recognize landscapes. Seriously, I looked out the window traveling to Tulsa and the landscape was melting, and that isn’t right, is it?

I LOVE YOU, SCALETT, I wrote. Those are my lip prints—I’d never do that, would I? It’s so unsanitary.

5/17/06

There’s got to be a home for me somewhere. My original idea was that if I keep riding this bus, I’ll eventually find a place that feels like I belong there. You know how sometimes you meet people and you both feel as if you knew them all your life? There has to be a place like that, right? Maybe I’ll find my answer in Philadelphia. They have a Liberty Bell that I intend to see.

5/20/06

Someone managed to send flowers to my room at the Motel Six outside Philly. Looking forward to seeing you again, the card read, and there was a smooch in deep red. Shivers went down my spine as I saw the card was signed, Scarlett.

How did she find me?

5/25/06

I remember once reading a science fiction story in which there were doorways in which you could suddenly slip into other universes, other realities. Is this what happened to me?

Found more grafitti in my own hand, “MISS YOU, SCARLETT”. The only thing that has changed is the lipstick color I used.

5/27/06

Got a call on my cellphone from the waitress I gave my number to in Tulsa. She took herself seriously although she was sporting a beehive in hair dyed platinum blonde, and I couldn’t help but admire that. It’s so hard to find interesting people these days.

I told her all about the saxophone I’d bought in the local pawnshop. I even told her that I’d made enough money in tips playing it to pay for my hotel room last night. She asked me what I used to do for a living, but I don’t remember anymore. Grammar used to be important to me, though.

She then asked me to kiss Scarlet for her. Instead of asking questions about Scarlett and how I know her, I just promised her that I would. She’s meeting me for a party in Saint Louis, and maybe I’ll figure everything out then.

5/30/06

Scarlett wrote me a love note in French! They gave it to me in the local bar where I played last night. Here’s what it said,

“Ma cherie, me recherché! Je t’adore. Tu es tres gentile.”

I swear, my heart’s all aflutter. Maybe she’ll meet me in St. Louis.

6/03/06

St. Louis is so much fun. Matilda, the waitress, and I went out on the town. We met up with some guys who were trying to be cowboys. I couldn’t stop laughing. They could kick up a beat, though, and Hank, he managed to pick me up over his head. The whole bar cheered for us.

6/05/06

I changed my hair color to Scarlet. It seemed appropriate, and I look better, anyway. I’m just sick of looking at mousy brown hair, anyways. Men notice me more, which is OK, and I’m working as a jazz musician at a bar near Matilda’s restaurant.

Yesterday was so weird. A man named Joey came into the place saying he had a private detective track me, and he was sorry and could I come home so we could work things out?
I swear I couldn’t remember who he was. The face was familiar, but I just—well, I told him to go away. He said he wouldn’t give up on me, and that I could come home any time. He said he and Marci were through, that it was a big mistake. He even said that Miskatonic University wants me back for tenure. I wondered why.

6/16/06

Got my licence updated for Atlanta. They listed my first name as Scarlett.

Masonic Temple

2006-06-06T17:00:00.000-04:00

Our local Masonic Temple, which is a few blocks from my house, has begun to concern me. It's not just the fact that several elder members have been spotted dancing prettily in blue and red hooded costumes, spinning wild skirts. It's the chants that they cry out at the top of their lungs:

IA! IA! Ithaqua! Cthulhu fagan! Great Cthulhu will reign once again! All hail the true king!

It just makes me wonder what the Masonic temple's really about.

And what's with all those earthquake tremors and weird reality shifts lately? Is Dayton long for this world?

The Miskatonic Alumni Association Meeting 06

2006-05-21T00:34:00.000-04:00

Welcome, all of you! As the class president of graduating class '04--as well as the longest surviving class president, I can not tell you just how grateful I am to be here addressing all of you! Let me also comment that this meeting is officially the largest meeting ever reported in the history of Miskatonic University for its previous alumni, beating the all time record of ten alumni present!

No, Gregory, I am not counting zombies. That's why we're saying this group has twelve alumni instead of the thirteen counting you. No, I am NOT being unfair--you're dead and don't have to pay taxes, you didn't give your inheritance to the University for the new Sciences building, so why should we count you anyway? Oh, and by the way--could you move downwind of everyone? Also--stop trying to chomp on Margaret's nice new hat--it's not the fashion statement she wishes to make. Could somebody pick up a plate from the refreshment tables and get him some hufu treats? Before Christian gets all PTSD driven again and starts shooting the shotgun like last time, accidentally killing still more alumni before their time? Thank you, Igor. I knew I could count upon your cooperation. Would you mind seeing me after this meeting about perhaps supervising some surgery in which I can replace my missing foot? Thanks, Buddy! My next toast will be to you!

Students who graduate other universities often celebrate the progress in each other's lives by attending other rites of passage: graduation ceremonies, homecoming games, weddings, and baby showers! Miskatonic holds the unique distinction of creating the largest funeral congregations seen for each and every alumni who dies horribly due the unseen hands of the Old Ones! Students who graduate from Ivy League schools find themselves in prestigious positions, often wielding world power, but how many of them can say that they have controlled a shoggoth? How many of those kids can say they not only died in service of their country, but to save humanity from a fate too terrible to describe? Only Miskatonic University students can make that claim, my friends. It isn't OUR fault that nobody believes us! How many other university graduates fill up insane asylumns and criminally insane prisons in the same percentages that Miskatonic can brag about? Just realize this, folks: of all the universities in the world, more serial killers have come from OUR hallowed institution. Criminals around the world blanche in fear of our graduates. The Mafia pays US off, and the US army feels helpless to our demands!!

MWAAAHAHAHAHA! GO PODS! GO CEPHLAPODS! IA! IA! THE GOAT WITH A THOUSAND YOUNG. PLAY YOUR FLUTE FOR AZATHOTH! PLAY LOUD AND PROUD--

OK, Thank you, Igor, I was thirsty. Your threat about the foot you have on ice being fed to our team mascots has helped me regain control. I haven't been the same since we lost my best friend and fiance Wanda to the deeps. Really folks, I'm sorry about that. I know that you all can at least understand my pain--we meet in the support groups several times a week, after all! Hell, Reginald--we shared a room together at Belleview! We played pranks on the psychiatrist, who hung himself before we were dishonorably discharged! Sheesh--some people take effigies so seriously!

I see--no, Igor, don't dump the foot into the biological science pool! Yes, the speech is almost done! Ahem, on the table, please observe our signup sheets for welcoming the new freshmen, as well as the PTSD group advertisement. Let's all hope that somehow we manage to survive in spite of ourselves and gibber sanely in 2007!

Yes, Igor, we DO have a treat in 2007! We will have a speech to all of the student body, even the disembodied parts, from our most famous long lived alumni, Charles Dexter Ward and Randolph Carter! They will be imparting survival tips, as well as bribery methods! It is a lot to look forward to, so let's hope all of us make it that far!

Thank you all! Enjoy those refreshments! Igor, please--you brought the morphene, didn't you?

The Play I have been writing instead of doing something productive

2006-05-15T16:05:00.000-04:00

OK--I realize this is too long to post in its entirety, so here's the deal--I'll give installments to anyone who is willing to critique the story. I can't get better unless I know where I'm weak so I can work on improvement. I promise that my next post will be shorter as well as amusing in and of itself. For anybody curious, it's the notes from the Miskatonic Alumni association meeting.

This post will be too damn long--sorry 'bout that. Here is an abridged introduction to my retelling of the Camelot myth:

Modern Archeological equipment surrounds a Midwestern foresty area. In a clearing in which debris has been cleared and a bizarrely Anglican style settlement has obviously been founded, a student is hunched over a stone. As various teams work upon the area, the camera pans to a cave which is obscured from view strangely yet seems to have lights coming from it. We are then shown into the cave, as well as through various tunnels until we see two characters who are busy exploring the cave.

A young woman and a middle aged man fight to get into another room inside this cavernous area. On their heads are helmets and head lamps, and they are dressed appropriately for caving. Their faces are dirty, and it is obvious they have been exploring this cave for the archeological team for awhile. The suits they wear bear the name of the university as well as ARCHEOLOGICAL DEPT on the back.

They dodge a sudden avalanche of stones that fall from the top of the cave, as well as darts that shoot suddenly from the walls. The middle aged man grabs a dart that is lodged into a skeleton of someone else who didn’t make it out of the cave and sniffs the tip,”

“Interesting—I haven’t smelled this neurotoxin for—for a long time. They used to use it in Ancient Europe, this stuff—what is it doing in the New World?”

“Maybe the Vikings brought it along with their milk jugs to attack the Native Americans with,” the girl shrugs.

“The dating has this settlement linked to the same time period—looks like we have evidence of yet more folk who discovered America before Christopher Columbus.”

The woman suddenly turns her head, as if she heard a voice. A strange song in an ancient language of the British isles can be heard by the audience.

“Morgan? Where are you going?”

“Don’t you hear it?”

“Hear what?”

“That song—it’s a lady singing a song but I don’t recognize the language.”

“You don’t have psychotic tendencies, do you?”

She rolls her eyes. “No, Galbraith. I do not. You’re just deaf.”

“It’s just—I don’t hear anything and people who hear strange voices are considered to be insane—“
(as he speaks, the young woman has been nosing around, trying to find the source of the song. She puts her ears to different walls of the cave, then suddenly down to the floor. She puts her hands upon something on the floor, we see a sudden golden flash and the floor falls out from underneath her. The song gets much louder for the audience as she falls through the floor into a hidden underground chamber.

“MORGAN!”

”I’m all right!” Get me more lights—this place is incredible! You have to SEE this, Galbraith! It’s like something out of a fairy tale! No, this is something out of de Morte D’Arthur! This is impossible! How could this be in North America rather than Great Britain?”

“Out of a fairy tale? King Arthur? ” He’s trying to get gear but suddenly rocks give way and he slides down the hole himself, landing near the young woman, who is wiping grime off of her suit and looking around appreciatively. He touches the inscriptions on an nearby wall, and they seem to light up to his fingertips. He shakes his head and whistles.

“My God. We’ve finally found it.” He grabs his radio and starts to call excitedly to the rest of the archeologists, and we hear him raving about the new find.

The room is covered in beautiful stonework, many of which are not native to North America—inlaid precious stones shaped into a style similar to ones displayed on ancient European artwork. Gal grabs a flare, and we see several places which are obviously meant to be set on fire to light the place.

The cavern is huge, and there is a giant “moat” that is obviously deep which has something swimming in it. In the middle of the area of water, there is a small island that houses a very large stone.

Morgan looks suddenly as if she is in a trance. She suddenly goes to the moat and steps in the water. Scaly tiles come up to meet her feet as she walks dazedly towards the little island. There is a slight hill between the water and the island, and it is too high for her to pull up from. A head from a serpentine beast, which has her feet upon the step, rises up and reveals something that is very dragon-like which carries her physically up so she can easily step off into the island.

Galbraith missed most of this because he was excitedly screaming into his two-way radio. However, he sees Morgan at the last step and starts yelling her name in terror. He tries to run towards the little island as she does, but no steps come out to meet him and he is suddenly immersed in the water. The serpentine beast, which was so helpful to Morgan turns towards him and hisses. Terrified, Galbraith rushes to the side of the moat and scrambles to get to the other side as the serpent begins pull its head slowly in his direction.

In the stone is a sword. The sword is covered in grime, but it is obvious that the piece is valuable—it is decorated with many jewels—some of which are not known currently. There are inscriptions written all over the hilt, as well as ancient runes dating from Old England. Despite the fact that it appears to have been stuck in the stone for centuries, there is no rust upon the blade.

“Why do I think you’re talking to me, wanting me to grab you and free you from this stone?” the young woman asks the artifact, still behaving as if she is in a trance. It looks like it suddenly shines at her. Galbraith, who has gotten over to the right side (and the serpent has now left him alone, making it clear that only certain people can cross the moat safely) and stares at the young woman with fascination, then looks at her thoughtfully. “Could it be? Yes, it’s a different age, now—it could be—my God! He’s finally come. My waiting is over and he’s finally come.” He mutters. He reaches in his pocket. Out of it comes a disc that is obviously ancient and that bears his face upon it with runes translated to the audience at the bottom of SIR GALAHAD.

“What did you find, Morgan? What do you mean by ‘talking to you’?” The man’s eyes glitter in anticipation. It is as if this is something he has been waiting for

“This is weird. It’s like it’s calling my name asking to be free or something,” Morgan touches the hilt of the sword, and it seems to suddenly move from the stone, sliding quickly.

“LEAVE IT ALONE!” A professor suddenly screams as she enters the room with another archeological team, this time much better equipped than our two original characters. “Your fingerprints! They erase hard evidence. Leave it ALONE, don’t you know better than that? Were you raised in a barn?”

“Whoops, sorry Dr. Fry!” She stops touching the sword, and all of the lighting in the place goes out at once.

How to Become a Real Live Zombie!

2006-05-12T14:06:00.000-04:00

Consider this essay a PSA:

Have you ever been envious of those strangely invulnerable creatures in all the horror movies? Have you ever wondered what life would be like after one is reanimated from the dead? Admit it: doesn't part of you just want to try the transcendental experience so you can brag to your friends?

Help has arrived!

LYNX'S GUIDE TO BECOMING ZOMBIEFIED

Just a few easy steps and you can make money in a cheesy horror flick and scare all your friends and neighbors! Whoo-hoo! This technique has been tried involuntarily by me and I assure you, it absolutely works!

1.) Sleep--remember sleep? You absolutely shouldn't. Sleep should be something you only dimly recall. Your sleeplessness, however, must NOT be caused by caffeine abuse or use of any uppers and must be ENHANCEABLE by narcotic or sleep causing medication. Reading horribly written academic journal articles won't help. Trying to exhaust yourself with intense physical exercise or trying
dance or yoga only energizes you further. You will ACTUALLY FINISH that 900 page yawner that's supposed to be so deep and intellectual--and wonder why everyone's made such a big deal out of it! Even TV will not be boring enough to lull you to rest! Your pet cats, who have growled at you, mewed at you, and have constantly walked to you, then trotted to your bed as if to say, "can you take a hint--you're scaring us" so that they can purr on your chest--they will be ineffectual. Instead, you will be wide awake while endearingly cute creatures nestle upon your chest and legs. There is an advantage of this--once they realize that there are other cats around and decide it's time for a turf war over you, you can intervene instead of flopping over.

2.) Remember that "sleep, remember sleep?" pointer? Have your body decide that it refuses to have ANYTHING to do with sleep (maybe it got sick of all those dumb nightmares and is getting even, who knows?) for at least forty-eight hours. Maybe your body even decides that forty eight hours should just begin this hellish exercise and have it try to double the time.

3.) Voila! You will be a zombie! Not only that, but you have the advantage of not craving brains! Actually, food will kind of scare you as you begin to hallucinate and dream while you are still awake!

There are advantages to zombiehood:

1.) So much more hip than the old "vampire movement"--a movement that is now being referred to by horror editors as "the new Star Trek Phenomenon of the Beastie world".
2.) Things won't make sense, but you will have the enlightening moment in which you realize that it's not supposed to! You will suddenly be amused by magazines in the checkout counter which are more concerned with Angelina Jolie than the Iraqi war.
3.) Not just that, but EVERYTHING suddenly becomes very, very amusing
4.) Pretty colors will surround people's heads! You will hallucinate seeing strings leading up to the sky from their heads!
5.) All zombie speech in movies will suddenly make complete sense to you, and you will comprehend finally just how limited the alive folk are in their conversational topics.
6.) If anyone disturbs you, you can just try to fake eating their brains by lunging at their heads! Guaranteed to get rid of annoying salesmen, drug dealers, and stalking ex-boyfriends of the neighbor downstairs! Beware of dog? Forget that! The dog should beware of YOU!

Anyone wish to join me in my new transcendental state? I swear I could use some intelligent ghoulish conversation.

The polls don't lie!

2006-05-06T20:33:00.000-04:00

Ah, my Dandelion sisters! Just checked the daily silly poll question on the Internet Movie Database.

"Battle of the Brothers: Luke or Owen Wilson?"

As of this moment, Owen is the favored brother. Maybe the world is catching on to our taste for intelligent men?

You're stepping on my toe with your amputated foot

2006-04-25T09:51:00.000-04:00

Tony dislocated his right shoulder and is finally recovering wonderfully. This is a good thing, as this experience has taught me that being around my husband in pain is agony. This is not because of his behavior, which was restrained and admirable (yes, he really is a badass:), but because it hurts my gut too much to see him in that state. Seriously, any mobster who wants to control me can just threaten to injure Tony and I'll do anything to prevent him to come to harm.

Tony and I endured a horrible trial a few weeks ago when he came home admitting he'd dislocated his shoulder in a Judo match (he won the fight anyway, making him the hero of his team, who won as well) and I've never been so scared in my life. He's in physical therapy and is finally getting his strength back. He claims he doesn't need Ibuprophen much anymore, so it looks like smooth sailing ahead. He's even eager to start martial arts training again.

So why am I still in agony? Ibuprophen doesn't help, nor did anything stronger. My right shoulder feels as if it has been pulled from its socket. This makes no sense, because I've never done a judo throw in my life. Even my physical strength has been affected by his injury. I couldn't even complete my strength reps yesterday at half the weight I normally do. He's no longer hurting, but I'm in agony? I know they say marriage is "one flesh" (which can be fun in intimate situations, where you lose track of whose limb is whose and feel each other's sensations) but this is ridiculous! Is this more proof that I need a visit from the Sanity Claus?

According to V.S. Ramachandran, who is a professor and the director of the Center for Brain and Cognition at the University of California in San Diego, I'm not crazy. People often feel the pain of their significant others. Instead, what has happened is similar to one of the phenomenon he loves to study in detail: phantom limb pain.

Phantom limb pain can be defined as feeling a sensation from a body part that is no longer attached to the body. People who have had their leg amputated often report feeling pain in the missing limb as well as other sentations. Amputees missing an arm even say that they can "wave" the missing hand. This pheonomenon is so stable and pervasive it has even made skeptics (Hermann Von Helmholz comes to mind) acknowledge psychology as a valid science.

Why does phantom limb happen? The traditional explanation given for phantom limb pain involves your brain requiring feedback from your limbs to interpret sensations. You'll get hurt, but eventually your limb will send a message back to your head saying, "hey, I'm all right now". When a limb is amputated, there's no limb to reassure the brain that everything is OK. The pain message is, therefore, permanently fixed on the "On" position.

Unfortuately, that explanation doesn't explain everything. Ramachandran discovered that the brain has a genuine "Map" of each part of the body in a different location of the brain. When a limb is removed, the parts "next door" to the missing parts start to seize the unused space the missing limb once required. Next door to an arm is an area of the face. The face starts to fill in the arm area, however, it's not perfect. Sensations often get confused in people who have no limbs missing, somethimes when the area in between parts is stiumulated both parts register feeling. If you touch the area adjacent in the brain, your brain may register that you're experiencing feeling in both areas of the body. For example, if someone touches a specific area of your face it can feel JUST like a sensation in the missing limb! This is why we can get turned on when someone sucks our toes--the "toe" map is right next to the "genitals" map. Hence, by sucking on one's toe, you an touch somewhere far more intimate at the same time. The cure for phantom limb agony? Our physiolgical maps are continually evolving, adding and altering areas as necessary.

Ramachandran found that our brain relies heavily upon cues given by our eyes and senses to determine whether we're in pain. A highly imaginative and visual person like me (I often construct visual images of things to figure out problems, equations, or just because I like to) can "connect" physically with my partner. My brain sees Tony. We've been together for seven years and counting--sharing the same bed, food, sharing words and care. My brain realized he is very important to me and decided to adapt with this purpose in mind. Industriously, my brain constructed a "Tony map" in my cortex that corresponds to my own body parts. Hence, when his arm is injured, mine feels pain.

Luckily, my arm doesn't hurt nearly as badly as it used to. The arm pain I felt only began to abate once Tony was able to remove his arm sling permanently--the sling is a visual cue to the terrible injury that reminds my brain that he's hurt. He's not "all perfect" just yet, so I still feel painful twinges (remember, he refuses to be a wuss and complain about pain--I must therefore rely on nonverbal behavior to gauge his physical state) whenever I see a behavior that indicates he is in pain--when he winces, I twinge, but the more I see him moving without difficulty, the better my arm feels. On days where he has no pain, I have no pain. He did something harmful today, though--I'm in pain again.

One body, one flesh? As far as my brain is concerned, YES. I'm just going to have to continue to request that Tony be more careful when executing unfamiliar Judo throws.

My Muse has Returned

2006-04-22T21:54:00.000-04:00

"Hey--it's three am--could you ask her to stop giggling loudly? I'm trying to get some sleep," Tony grumbled, barely awake.

I looked at the doorway. It took a moment to recognize her, but I knew she was back. She'd turned on the lights and the cats were surrounding her as if begging for more inspiration for trouble, so I figured I'd better pay attention before she decided another vacation was in ofder.

"Hi, Jules!" She blew me a kiss. "I bought you a T-shirt!" She held up a tank with the words, "MY MUSE WENT ON SPRING BREAK IN FLORIDA, TIJUANA, BARBADOS, and CALIFORNIA BUT ALL SHE BROUGHT BACK WAS THIS LOUSY T-SHIRT".

"Good thing your chest is large enough to fit the letters!" She giggled, then passed out on the bed. She reeked of liquor and various types of seafood. My husband, Tony, grumbled irritably.

"Hey, I thought guys always wanted to share a bed with two women," I argued. After a few weeks without my muse, I wasn't about to make her feel unwelcome. I missed writing, after all. My fingers were twitchy without posting for so long.

"Mrrumph," he uttered, falling asleep again. Translation: "Yeah, that'd be great if I happened to have any energy to take advantage and if it wasn't three in the morning and I have to get up in three hours to go to work and be physically productive today." Men can say so much with so few syllables.

I looked my muse over. I already knew she'd been in trouble--the police had demanded that I pay her traffic tickets already, and I already bailed her out of the slammer once. However, I'm a writer and she's got me at her mercy--what else can I do?

I just don't know WHAT I'm going to tell that nice guy who keeps calling here, searching for her. What if she's just the "love 'em and leave 'em" type?

And why couldn't she at least stopped in long enough to buy me a ticket to take me to the Barbados with her? I mean, I've served her for decades--

Education Frustration

2006-04-12T19:41:00.000-04:00

Ugh! I've already talked with Lynx about this problem. You all know by now that I'm a teacher, originally from Pennsylvania. Much of this year has been spent getting settled into routine here in Ohio, part of which was moving my teaching certificate from one state to the other. I even called the Department of Education, who said they had everything they needed and were waiting on the results of my FBI background check (my second attempt at that since the first set of fingerprints were apparently lost).

Last month, I received written notification that I cannot move my certificate until I pass a second Praxis II that isn't required in Pennsylvania. If ANYONE could have mentioned this to me earlier, I could have had an Ohio teaching certificate prior to the rush to fill jobs for next year. As is, I must pray they'll accept the certificate I have while cramming for this Praxis test. It's all teaching theory that I haven't studied since Ed Psych class in 1992. I can apply the theory, just can't remember the name of the theory I'm using.

Again, UGH! The test is on the 29th. At least I'm pretty much laid off this week while the districts in which I sub have Spring Break. Study time galore...

Happy Birthday, Surtsey Islander

2006-03-23T16:42:00.000-05:00

Please join me in wishing the Surtsey Islander a HAPPY BIRTHDAY! Last year has been tougher than many on her, so as I see it as this year's responsibility to make things up to her and remind her how cool it is to be alive again:). Be sure to visit her

BLOG

and let her know she's awesome

Happy Birthday to you,
Happy Birthday to you,
Happy Birthday dear Surtsey Islander,
Happy Birthday to you....

Or, that old favorite birthday dirge,

(Stomp!) Happy Birthday
(Stomp!) Happy Birthday
You have aged another year and
now your death is drawing near
Happy Birthday (STOMP)
Happy Birthday (STOMP)

....

There are, as usual, presents awaiting you in Dayton, SI. As well as ornery cats who wish to break them, so you'd better get her quick.

Explain this to me

2006-03-21T15:18:00.000-05:00

Okay, I've been married now for 5 years. Before I got married, I had no interest at all in sports. Since I have been married, I have, with considerable effort, been trying to learn hockey and baseball for the sake of watching them with my sports enthusiast husband. All give and take, right?

But when he turns on wrestling I have to leave the room. Why? Because I can't keep my mouth shut, and most of what I say consists of snide comments about the sport.

Why, why, why do people find this sport so interesting? What is fun about watching people beating the crap out of one another? I just don't understand. You can give me all that about it's a man thing, and deep down it's human nature.. it still makes no sense to me.

What really confuses me is the fact that it isn't even real. I've had PLENTY of wrestling fans tell me "It is too real!" Well, I type medical reports for a living. If ANYONE got hit in the face with a metal folded chair, he'd have a broken nose. If he got hit in the back of the head, he'd wind up with a subdural hematoma. I've done ER reports on people who fractured their spine with a simple fall off of a step or two.. and you're trying to tell me these guys get thrown from the ring onto a HARD floor FLAT ON THE BACK and get right back up again? What are they, made of rubber?

I really really tried to watch it with him, but to me, it's a male soap opera, and it just disgusts me.. I can't even laugh at it. I don't think I'll ever understand it at all, or understand why people like it.

Yipes! Another Book List?

2006-03-21T12:20:00.000-05:00

It may be possible that I read too much. What's worse, I don't ever feel guilty or feel like apologizing for my bad habit. If I go too long without a book in my hand, I start to sweat. I've been known to snort a book that has been freshly printed just to banish my withdrawl. Sigh--I'd feel ashamed, but some addictions are worth it:

Book Recommendations to Survive the Snowfall (if you're in a snowy region, that is) when it is supposed to be SPRING:

1.) Down and Out in the Magic Kingdom by Cory Doctorow: imagine a world in which death has been conquered. Picture a place where people simply make themselves "sleep" for a few hundred years or so when they get tired of life. Picture a world with no disease, where wars have been conquered, in which a man over two hundred years old has found something worth starting a fight over. The issue he must defend to the death (and he does die and get resurrected more than once): whether or not Disneyland's attractions should be changed to a "virtual" experience instead of being something real. This sci-fi fantasy is too much fun to be ignored. Oh, yeah--and Doctorow is a good non-fiction writer too. You may remember him from that s'wonderful magazine Salon.

2.) The Science of Discworld Series by Ian Stewart and Jack Cohen (with permission by Terry Pratchett, one of my favorite writers ever): I have to recommend all three tomes because, well, they're simply wonderful and who can stop with just one, anyway? They have a little bit of fiction mixed in with a fabulous history of science with a bit of philosophy thrown in for good measure. They also possess Pratchett's wonderful sense of humor, which makes 'em priceless. The great thing about these books is they're informative enough that you can tell yourself that they're good for you while you're busy having fun. The only drawback to these books is you can't easily find them in the United States. I was a lucky woman because my sister-in-law Renee actually bothered to find my Amazon wishlist and bought them for me for Christmas. By sending these my way, she also managed to give extra presents to my husband Tony, who stole the books first in order to make sure they were "quality enough for you to read, honey--wouldn't want you to be reading something that isn't good enough for you, right"?

3.) Sunshine by Robin McKinley. I love my sister in law, Renee, but since she's sent these books my way, I've found new levels of adoration to bestow upon her. The woman has good taste in tomes. The book was hardcover with no jacket and a black binding, so I had no clue what I was in for when I read her recommendation. Trusting Renee's judgement, I went ahead and gave the book a chance. Good thing, too--it's right up my alley as a horror/science fiction/fantasy addict (and I'm really picky about the books in these genres because so many authors are too cliched or suck outright). When I first started reading the text (I've read a lot, but had never read Robin McKinley before) I thought it was a story about an innocent baker in a coffee shop. Silly, silly me. Trust me, gothic fans--this one's a keeper.

4.) The Joffrey Ballet Schools Ballet Fit by Dena Simone Moss and Allison Kyle Leopold. I don't usually recommend fitness or exercise books because everybody already knows about them anyway, but this one was so well done that I have to express admiration.

If you've been following this blog for any length of time, you know I have Multiple Sclerosis. This "scum-sucking pig of a disease" involves having your immune system attack and destroy the protective covering around your spinal cord and the "thinking stuff" in your brain. Once the protective layer is gone, the immune system often starts to destroy your nerves, causing a whole host of problems including physical disability for many people.

I LOVE to move. I also love dance. I was naturally clumsy as a kid and a young adult, so when I got to age twenty I decided, "This sucks--I'm going to take responsibility for my physical failings and start getting in shape". Since that decision over a decade and a half ago, not a week has gone by in which I did not work out consistently. Lately, it's been over three years since I've skipped a DAY without some sort of movement. When you have MS, degeneration of physical abilities is a BIG problem, so regular exercise can help delay physical problems. Ballet is WONDERFUL as a discipline that has taught me to be more graceful, more conscious of each muscle in my body responsible for movement as well as forces you to learn how to maintain balance, another important skill that is put into jeapardy by MS. The center work/abdominal/back work I've done in ballet has helped me compensate for demylinization that occurred in my spine (most of that protective coating has grown back, by the way--my immune system sticks to eating my brain now) which has spared me a LOT of pain that I'd otherwise suffer. Therefore, although I realize I'm never going to be a world-famous dancer (nor do I wish to be) I search incessantly for good guides and sources to help me improve my skills outside ballet class. Finding sources is not an easy task for an adult learner!

Ballet-fit is an EXCELLENT introduction to the discipline, and it's aimed at folks like me rather than the young'ins who may end up being world renowned ballet stars. It's technical information for various movements has saved me from injury more than once, the etiquette tips have been life saving when taking a class in a new city for the first time in my life. Ballet may not be that aerobic (although trust me--it really can be), but when you have spinal damage that makes you need to select exercises that aren't high impact because they compound the problems already there, ballet is a wonderful choice. Everything has been covered here--even the decision to go on point, which my instructor insists I should give a shot to. If you love the discipline, get this book and start practicing the tips.

5.) Envy by Joseph Epstein. I'm going to admit that I have yet to be let down because of lack of information or quality about New York Library's Seven Deadly Sins books. I've read every single book in the series I can get my hands on, and they make for intelligent and amusing reading. Epstein's style is so readable you won't even notice that you're learning (but if you want to just laugh, make sure to read Wendy Wasserstein's Sloth, as that book is WONDERFUL).

Have vs have not school district

2006-03-05T12:15:00.000-05:00

On Friday, I subbed in two separate school districts. I was able to do this because one school hasn't passed its levy in six years, meaning they have no money to build the additional facilities needed to contain all the students. Because of this, kids have to attend school in 3 shifts from 6:50 am to 6:20pm. The other is extremely wealthy, passes all its levies, and gets a LOT of donations from the wealthy families in the area.

Guess where I had the better time during the day? Hint: It wasn't where the kids wrinkled their noses at the scuffs on my shoes, laughed at my Philly accent and called me a "temp". I'd rather teach where I'm appreciated. Hell, the last class of the day turned into a concert, the kids were in such a good mood to have a teacher who didn't treat them like vermin. Fun!

Flash poem!

2006-02-23T12:00:00.000-05:00

Just thought of it at my job and thought I'd share. A vardoger is an apparition of a living person, that arrives at that person's destination before the person themselves. I suppose I could have just called the poem Forerunner, but I like the sound of the German word. Plus I am waiting to (possibly) get laid off from my job, so it actually might apply, who knows? Anyway.

Vardoger

Every time I leave a room,
it's for the last time.

dating 103

2006-02-19T22:09:00.000-05:00

Ok the next set of rules may help ( thanks to Dr. Phil). Most people that I have delt with need to remember a few of these. One Please remember to be honest. It does not help dating availability if you have an ex still living in your household. I don't care for what reason. Two. Do not brag on what you can do or how well you have changed and improved. Let me see for myself if you are an interesting person. Three: When we go out be a gentleman Four: Do not after the first date ask me where you figure we are going and how well I love you. I don't know you. If there is a second date that is a good sign. If I never accept a second date or if I change my number and move to Aurba that is a bad sign. Five: Don't assume I am like the other people you have dated. I am not trying to put you in a spot yet you don't do it to me. Six: Don't brag, I am not impressed by the amount of money you make or the car you drive. How well do you treat me? What type of a human are you? How are you talking to the perosn serving us? Seven: Make sure you love yourself before looking for another person. Don't drag your garbage with you. Eight: Do what will make you happy with in reason. This is a date not a personal beating. Make sure you like the idea of what you may do for a date. Just not what you figure will make another person happy. Ok that is a tall order for most people. Life is short and this should be fun.

LIFE

2006-02-19T22:05:00.000-05:00

Once again we have made it through Valentines Day. This according to people is either the most loved or hated day. Depends on gender, who you love, and how enclined are you to celebrete Hallmark hollidays. I had parent conferences on that night. Amazingly few showed up to tell the teachers how wonderful we were to their kids and bring us candy and flowers. SIGH!!! I did have few people who were dissapointed that their special people did not call them or even send cards. Maybe next year. Maybe school will even move conferences so parents can go out and socialize with people other than their child's teacher. Hearing Jonny is getting an F thier senior year and may not graduate is a slight damper on the night for them.

Curses Foiled again

2006-02-18T21:39:00.000-05:00

Curses, Foiled Again

Before this essay, THANK YOU to everybody for spoiling me ROTTEN on my birthday. I'm 36 now, but frankly, I don't look or feel any older. It must be all that immaturity seeing me through again. Lucky for me, my friends and family are so great that growing older is something I actually look forward to because everyone around me makes life fun.

My New Year's resolution was simple--cut back on cursing. I don't know how I managed to find cursing so automatic that it somehow managed to creep into far too many conversations for my liking, but it bugs me that I not only can add to Carlin's "list of swear words" without trying, but that I even know all the curse words in no less than six other languages that I find myself use automatically whenever someone I should not curse in front of (children, authorities, etc) is around and I feel the need to invoke the nasties through speech. I speak gutter very fluently, folks--which is strange because I have letters after my name and I'm more educated and the last time I checked the M. A. did not stand for motherf--ing As----e.

Why cut back on cursing? Those four letters come in handy, after all. Personally, I simply do not trust any grown human being who uses "fake" curse words and tries to sound like they mean it, either. A grown man should never use the term "darn it" with any serious tone in his voice. A woman who can actually look herself in the eye after she says "Sheesh" instead of the alternative and who still feels self-confidence is relying on far better illicit drugs than she should to remain upright. People who use euphenisms to refer to human body parts and who are trying to sound serious? They scare me, folks--once you've surpassed the age of five you've lost your right to use the term "pee pee" or any analgous words without losing all of your human dignity. If the situation truly warrants a curse word, be honest and use the word, use it well, and don't look back. We invented these words for a reason, one of which is that the tension released by speaking a "forbidden word" helps comfort the curser, helping them deal with whatever trial or tribulation has forced him or her to resort to four letter language to deal with.

Notice I said "trial or tribulation". Curse words may be many things, but they shouldn't be so commonly used that hearing them from your mouth seems like no big deal. I've known my share of people who curse so often under any situation that I have to wonder what they actually do when they get mad, injured, devastated, or scared out of their wits. I once had a coworker who started listing his day to me as such: Yeah, I got up this f-ing morning and got the f-ing coffee pot and lit my f-ing cigarette and blah blah blah--what happens if they have an actual emergency? What happened to this guy when his car got broadsided and he almost got flattened into an accordion by somebody else? Did he suddenly find himself violently reciting Shakespearian sonnets? Worse yet, when he finally got to a phone to call for help to a loved one, were they able to discern something bad had actually happened? Tony argues that curse words have a lot of power, but that power disapates each time you use the word. Therefore, the more often you curse, the less seriously anyone in hearing range of you takes you or your feelings. Tony's an admirable guy--the only times I have heard him curse was when it was completely justified. In fact, the only times anyone has heard him curse has shocked them so much that suddenly everyone in the room goes silent, turns to him, and finds themselves asking, "are you all right?"

Sigh--I'd like to be more like Tony and actually use the vast vocabulary at my disposal instead of cursing because it is there. It just bothers me how easy it is to get lazy and curse when you don't mean to. Besides, curse words aren't real specific about the type of difficulty you're dealing with. Curse words just universally convey "bad". If someone around me is being needlessly cruel to a kid, I'd just assume not have to rely on the b word that rhymes with stitch. Wouldn't it be more eloquent of me to go ahead and explain their rotten behavior in terms that not only describes the situation exactly but which I can say directly in front of the kid involved without having to slip automatically in gutter Italian?

I'm really trying hard to not curse, so of course I'm finding myself failing more often than succeeding in improving my diction. Here is your weekly lesson of a principle in Social Psychology: trying to suppress an idea, word, or action is doomed to fail. Why? Because in order to avoid whatever it is you're trying not to think about, you must first have your mind remember what it is you're trying to not do. This means that every time you do whatever it is you're afraid of slipping up with (by cursing, for example), your mind automatically comes up with every curse word it can list just so you can avoid saying the terms. If you make the mistake of automatically speaking your mind, well--

Maybe I should just give up on this resoloution. F** it, right? And OOOXX!!!!@! for good measure.

It's the HIPPO song!

2006-02-14T07:26:00.000-05:00

Hippo Birdie Two Ewes
Hippo Birdie Two Ewes
Hippo Birdie Deer Lynx
Hippo Birdie Two Ewes!

Have a fun time, lady! Rock out!

Countdown continues...

2006-02-01T17:49:00.000-05:00

Less than five months until it's Bride Time. Lynx, you have no idea how much I envy your simple, elegant wedding ceremony as I plow through my own nuptial plans.

Somehow the cake became so complex that I was grateful Pros' father was along for the meeting, as it took a geologist and an engineer to get the point across. It had better taste as good as it's gonna look...
What is a "corking fee" and why do we have to pay it because the wine selection for the rehearsal dinner is so bad (Corbett Canyon???) that we're bringing our own?
Mama Hyde means well, but it seems every time we talk, she finds something else that comes dangerously close to causing me to hyperventilate. "Mom, if the florist closest to the bakery is completely booked, we'll call around. I seriously doubt there's two vendors who will refuse to work together."
Laurali bought her bridesmaid dress at a thrift shop for $35 and I have no idea what it looks like. Hopefully she'll let me have final say, but her tastes are pretty stylish.

Happy Birthday, Jacklyn!

2006-01-27T13:46:00.000-05:00

(Stealing the Beatles shamelessly and--note to lawyers--WITHOUT ANY PROFIT so please back off, OK?)

They say it's your birthday,
It's my birthday too, yeah (OK, on Feb 14th, but close enough)
They say it's your birthday,
It's our birthday too, yeah!

I will personally play the riffs from this song for you, Jacklyn! Any landmark that shows you've spent longer in my life and I've gotten to know you better is worth celebrating! WHOO-HOO (I'm doing a wave, but it isn't too obvious).

Everybody, drop her a line and visit her blog at
Inside Jacklyn Hyde
She makes a rocking Marilyn (I was there when she'd won the prizes--I'd dressed up as the Goddess Athena, and I had a shield with Ann Coltier's picture on it because like the Medusa, she also turns men's hearts to stone) but an even better Jacklyn.

Lady, you ROCK!

Lynx Presents: More Book Recommendations!

2006-01-20T17:30:00.000-05:00

It's time to stop castigating yourself for breaking every single one of your New Year's resolutions. In fact, it's time to distract yourself fully with a decent book so you don't have to think about the fact you only made it twenty minutes on the first resolution!

Here's some fun reads to help you feel better:

*Note: I deliberately try to avoid books that are on the NYTimes bestselling list and go for more obscure titles. Let's face it, Stephen King's going to be read no matter what. Heck, I don't even have to bother to recommend Neil Gaiman anymore, because people have finally heard of him (Anansi Boys, in case you're interested). If you're an author and wish to drop me a line, please do so--just don't mind the electronic drool I give off, as I act towards great authors the way most people act towards TV stars. ) Here's the list:

**Sloth, by Wendy Wasserstein. OK, I realize Wendy Wasserstein is a great author with enough well deserved awards to make the previous paragraph incongrous, but how many people have head of this book? A project was started in which several wonderful authors and thinkers were asked to write a book dealing with a deadly sin.

At the beginning of the new year I can think of no greater title to help us hold our heads up high. Sloth is a book that casts the "sin" in a much more favorable light. In fact, for the past two weeks I actually tried to follow the tenets of the book, but realized I love moving too much to be able to keep it up. I actually like doing things. Sometimes I even enjoy accomplishing feats--especially if nobody's looking or expecting it. (That wondrous look of surprise coupled with the words, "YOU?" just makes me grin to no end). The way of the sloth is not for me, but that doesn't mean you should not give it a whirl. If nothing else, it will make you feel better about the fact you broke your resoloutions.

How to Stop Time: by Anne Marlowe. This is my favorite recovery book ever. Why? Because it assumes that addiction is a responsibility that must be addressed by the user (and yes, I’ve dealt with addictions—remember smoking, thank you very much. ). It’s done in alphabetical order, with verbal pictures punctuating the time in which Marlowe used Heroin until she finally realized a sad truth all addicts (myself included) had to realize: addiction is too boring to keep up until the end of your life.

A Year in Van Nuys: by Sandra Tsing Loh. Sandra, we love you. Where is your new book? Have you abandoned your fan base in Dayton? Yes, we can occasionally hear you on NPR, but a new book would be highly appreciated. Please?

In the meantime, people who don't know of this amazing Los Angeles writer should take notice of her last title. A Year in Van Nuys is the ultimate "Middle-age crisis" book because it will take your lofty ambitions, hold them up to a giant screen and launch a fluffy cream pie at them. Run, don't walk, to the store and order or purchase this puppy.

Liz Langley--I have read that a new book of yours is coming out soon. Would you mind telling me when this will be? I miss your column and I can't wait to fork over cash to read your new title. Come on, Liz--where is your book? How are book addicts such as myself supposed to survive when good writers don't produce? Sheesh.

China Mieville: Looking for Jake. I know he's won the Arthur C. Clark award a couple of times so he's pretty well known, but he's not enough of a household name for my liking, so here the recommendation is. This is his current short story collection, and it's simply wonderful. China is a writer whom I read, hit myself in the head, and say, "why didn't I get myself to work hard enough and write like that?" If you can recover from unescapable envy at his remarkable plotting and verbal poise, pick this one up in a jiffy. It's a treat.

Socrates Cafe: Christopher Phillips--Yeah, it's not his latest, Six Questions for Socrates, which I also own, but it's my favorite of his work so far. If you wish to have a good time, look up when the next Socrates cafe is happening in your town and go--you'll have lots of good conversation, meet fascinating people, and even probably enjoy decent food in the process. I had to go to Columbus to find one (hopefully they've started one in Dayton now--but if not, there's more work for me to do, now, isn't there?). Start with Socrates Cafe and then read his Six Questions, and then find some people to ask questions about and be prepared to really listen and think about their answers.

Alain De Botton: The Consolations of Philosophy. The Surtsey Islander very kindly bought me a copy of this book which I've wanted ever since I spied it in the library. Ever since I've been out of remission, I've been looking at philosophy as a means to search for a way to make my life meaningful no matter what occurs with my illness or life. This book is comforting (as is Philosophy, not prozac--a book I'd also recommend) and sometimes that's all we need at the moment.

OK--that's my current list of titles. Any other Dandelions wish to join the book recommendation discussion?

Success--Slacker Style!

2006-01-13T19:38:00.000-05:00

For those of you who either lack ambition or simply wish to avoid all that hard work associated with success, here is a helpful tip:

"Google" your own name. Somebody with your name is bound to be more successful than you. You can happily pretend that person's successes are your own! Ha!

Unfortunately, there is a danger with this methodology. Under my maiden name, I found that while some Julie's were admirable, one was a member of a scary cult I've despised since I lost a friend to it. Feel free to ignore your less successful namesakes or take any necessary measures to distance yourself from them.

Sadly, my maiden name is so common that the only way I can find my own accomplishments is to put things like "psychology" or the university I went to, etc, to find myself. But ah, well--at least I didn't find any illicit pictures I didn't pose for or anything, so all is good.

The Battle Rages On

2006-01-08T18:03:00.000-05:00

I still have a working Roomba. This in itself is a miracle that I can only thank to our accidental ferret (adopted when John abandoned it) who has decided it is a fabulous buddy.

I wanted to give you an update from the war front of our Grafton cats:

Guerilla warfare has begun: Gable, our comely gray striped cat, has begun a new war campaign on the Roomba. The new technique is not only innovative, but should give all cat owners pause:

He can voluntarily shed cat hair.

You heard me--didn't you? He can physically MAKE himself shed fur. He now makes a point to walk in front of the ROOMBA (though not too close) and drop tufts of fur. It's the strangest thing I've ever seen in my life.

Sigh...what to do?

Doing the right thing?

2006-01-03T21:19:00.000-05:00

Some of you know I'm heavily considering going back to school (again) to complete a MA in Special Education. Today I subbed in a class filled with emotionally disturbed Special Education students. Two of them popped back flips in the room, and one forgot to take his anti-psychotics this morning. They tried to talk over my head in slang, but were shocked to find out that I understood every word they were saying ("Just because I'm an adult doesn't mean I'm stupid").

Were they this out of control because I couldn't handle them, or merely because they weren't my full time students to teach? They were mostly good boys, but MAN, I felt powerless compared to the two aides in the room!

2006-01-01T13:41:00.000-05:00

Hey out there to all the Dandelion Files bloggers, fans, loved ones, and all who think that Owen Wilson is the hottest Wilson brother.

The Surtsey Islander has two New Year's resolutions this year (and no, talking about herself in the royal third person is not one). One is to remake her body into something that can do stuff she's proud of, other than escaping pavement/face interactions relatively scar-free. The other is to blog more. So, feel free to visit over on Surtsey Island, where I have actually posted something. You can also throw lichen into the water to the fish if you need more amusement. Just don't overdo it, we're trying to build up a fragile ecosystem and stuff.

May all the Dandelion crew find some peace (just misstyped "peach," but I do hope you find peaches as well, unless you are allergic), happiness, love and decent television viewing.

TSI

Belated Caroling Fun!

2005-12-31T00:55:00.000-05:00

Yes, Christmas is over and New Year's Eve is upon us, but I had to post these song lyrics. Should be a new caroling hit!

Who Put the Stump?
( sung to the tune of Who Put the Bop )

I'd like to find the guy who done me wrong
And stuck my butt up on this Xmas tree

Who put the stump in my rump-pa-pump-pa-pump?
Who took and crammed it in my ramma-lamma-ding-dong?
Who stood the wood where I poop-she-poop-she-poop?
Who put the stick up my hip-de-dip-de-dip?

Who was that man?
He shoved it up my can
And left me stranded on this Xmas tree

When this angel heard chop-ba-ba-bop-ba-chop-ba-bop-bop
A dreadful fear went right into my heart
Those pine tree needles sting me
Ramma-jamma-ramma-jammin in my ding dong
You'll never know how much that smarts

So who put the stump in my rump-pa-pump-pa-pump?
Who took and crammed it in my ramma-lamma-ding-dong?
Who stood the wood where I poop-she-poop-she-poop?
Who put the stick up my hip-de-dip-de-dip?

Who took that bush
And crammed it in my tush?
He made this angel beg for mercy please

Each night when I'm alone
Scratchity-scratchity-scratchity-scratchity-scratchity-shoo
It sets my tiny bottom all aglow
And every time I wriggle, slipped it in-it in, slipped it in-it in,
A little further in it goes

Rump-a pump-a pump ram it in my ding dong
slipped it in-it in poopity-poopity shoop

2005-12-30T15:37:00.000-05:00

Holliday Quiz!

1.) You believe Santa is:
a.) A demon from Hell who actually tries to eat children and poses as someone who is kind and generous so he can get more prey
b.) A good tradition which helps you clear out that pesky bank oaccount that was too full to keep track of anyway
c.) Who's Santa?
d.) An evil conspiracy!

2.) You like to celebrate the holiday season by:
a.) Following a strange set of traditions outlined by a writer of Seinfeld in which you have a pole erected in your house and exchange grievances, at the end of which you wrestle the head of the houshold down to the floor.
b.) giving gifts, sending letters and cards, making fattening baked goods to share, giving lots of hugs and encouragement, making lots of calls to loved ones and trying to visit them as much as possible, travelling as much as you can to see friends, and generally having a really good time.
c.) Celebrate? It's a day like any other.
d.) Making sure your locks are working and in order, checking your weaponry, and sitting by your chimney in case some idiot wearing a red suit tries to break into your fortress

3.) Your idea of ideal holliday reading is:
a.) "I'm OK, you're a Dickhead" by some author whose name I cannot recall. Also, any of the Susan Forward books are fair game for reviewing! Make sure to also check out Alice Miller's work to help get your resentment brewing and check the news so you can get REALLY mad about how the government is dealing with the world around you.
b.) Anything is fair game--but Christopher Moore's The Stupidest Angel should now be considered a classic!
c.) Read? Who has time to read? Oh, if I have to I'll get something off the Bestseller list to ignore.
d.) The Anarchist's Bible by Powell

4.) Snow makes everyone around you:
a.) Curse like sailors. Damn nature and her attempts to make a pretty landscape.
b.) OK, it's pretty, but is it dangerous to drive? Is this an excuse to curl up with my hubby, make wild love, and drink spicy apple cider? Are the neighbors up for a snowfight? Cool. Besides, can't shovelling make my arms stronger?
c.) Yep, better get on the road so I can slip slide around and play bumper cars. It's imperative I leave the house RIGHT NOW so I can get more Jiffy Pop before they sell out again.
d.) A great cover to fool your enemies has just been provided! Yay!

Answers:

a.) If you answered a, you watch too much damned television for your own good. Even your perceptions of Santa have been clouded by an episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer (Enya explains the dangers of Santa in one of them). It's time to join the world again before somebody actutally starts exchanging grievances with you and you start taking Oprah and Jerry Springer too seriously for your own good. Disconnect the television and make yourself go outside so I can throw a snowball at you. It'll make your skin glow, honest.

b.) You're like me and most folk I know. Let's party!

c.) Is the word "fun" in your vocabulary? Geez. If nothing else celebrate the fact that the days are no longer getting shorter, meaning that you won't feel as depressed because you'll get more sunlight. Wanna join our neighborhood snowball fight?

d.) OK, stay in your bunker. You scare me. Seriously, don't leave your house no matter what--I've heard that the Abomnible Snowman has a contract on you.

Thoughts to warm you on a chilly Winter Solstice

2005-12-21T11:44:00.000-05:00

Well, congratulations, everyone--we're officially passing through the shortest days in 2005, days that threatened to be so dreary in Dayton that friends were beginning to take Lewis Black's comment "it was so gray that I thought about slitting my wrists to add some color" as a serious suggestion. The cats almost went into hibernation, then realized they could not eat treats, harass humans, or partake in nip while sleeping so gave up on the whole thing and got cranky instead.

It appears that we have survived the shortest days in 2005. I don't know about you, but 2005 was a rough year for me. On the one hand I can't help but to be grateful to feel anything at all as I was asked the "does brain cancer run in your family" question at around this time of year. I wondered whether I'd be alive much in 2005, let alone have the energy to complain about it.

Folklore lovers already know that many mythologies use this time of year to signify death and rebirth. 2005 saw the rebirth of our honorary DandeLion lady, Janice Z (I'll get her to post something soon somehow:), as she is currently celebrating a new bouncing baby kidney and pancreas and has finally been freed of a very serious Type 1 diabetes. Considering the amount she managed to get done with this frustrating illness, I'm wondering if she'll manage a world takeover once she finishes type transplant recovery process. 2005 also found me relieved, as it turned out I didn't have brain cancer after all (you know the rest).

Whatever your faith (or non-faith), please let me wish you a happy Winter Solstice. I'm looking forward to making more jokes for you to roll your eyes at.

Roomba wars

2005-12-13T08:57:00.000-05:00

IN THIS CORNER: we have one handy-dandy bona fide Roomba. Weighing maybe around ten pounds, this Roomba can clean without any trouble. Can it manage to defeat the four regional champs that are fighting to dominate it?

IN THIS CORNER: We have our previous Grafton feline champions: Quetzlcoatl, Houdini, Gable, and Bogey. Each cat weighs between ten and twelve pounds and fortunately lack an opposable thumb. Bogey has an advanced degree in "Gravitology"--each day he checks to make sure that gravity still works by toppling objects to the ground on the assumption that when gravity FAILS he will finally be able to fly and capture those pesky birds that annoy him. Quetzlcoatl has mastered the "drop shot" in which she can strategically drop objects and strike beings she is not fond of, including one scary blind date years ago in Lynx's life who tried (and failed) to date rape her. Houdini has been reaching her full size and is coming into her own as possible house matriarch.

All four of our regional champions are determined to best this new robotic interloper in the household. Although sniffing the Roomba has not yet gotten it labeled as a cat in the hierarchy, it's suspicious chasing behavior has labeled it a genuine threat to their tranquility.

WHO WILL WIN? Dear readers, I advise those with tenderhearts to turn away, as this could get BLOODY. Parts could be ejected, ears could be torn. Worse yet, Lynx could get really annoyed at all four cats and lock them into the PENALTY BOX. What will happen? What?

ROUND ONE: The Roomba is off to a good start, busily vacumming the bedroom. Bogey uses his well known move of dropping a vase on the floor, but since he was distracted by a bird outside the shattered vase has no effect upon the Roomba. In fact, the Roomba is simply cleaning up all the debris! This is AMAZING, folks! After noticing the mess, Lynx spots Bogey, scoops his fuzzy butt into her arms, and puts him into the penalty box. Bogey is defeated!

ROUND TWO: Houdini decides to mount a massive attack by preparing to POUNCE upon the roomba and claim it as her slave. Unfortunately, at the moment she starts to pounce she notices Gable, who she decides to attack instead. The Roomba decides this is a clear time to mount an offense, as it's dirt detector has decided both cats are grime to be cleared. Both cats stop shadowboxing long enough to realize they are being chased, and run in fear from the room, both fighting over a safe place on top of the fridge and mantle. Gable AND Houdini are officially out of the game!

Round Three: Quetzlcoatl, who has watched the drama quietly, decides to get into the ring. Crafily dodging the ROOMBA that appears to chase her, she jumps upon the desk and finds a favorite cat toy to knock down onto the Roomba. Since it only weighs two ounces, it has no effect, stunning Quetzlcoatl. The Roomba remains UNDEFEATED, folks! Quetzlcoatl appears as if she is thinking, wrinkling nonexistent eyebrows and concentrating upon the ROOMBA's movements. With a bold swish, she knocks down the cat's favorite string to chase, hoping the ROOMBA will get the string all caught up in its rotors and be brought to its nonexistent knees! It looks like things are all over for the ROOMBA, folks! Quetzlcoatl sits back and waits for her attack to destroy her rival.

Wait: OUT OF THE CORNER THERE IS A MIRACLE SAVE! It is the house Ferret, called Sweatpea for NO good reason, originally a gift given to the roommate of Lynx and Tony which quickly became Lynx and Tony's ferret to take care of! The Ferret has been observed "dancing" with the ROOMBA, and appears to have a good relationship with the thing despite all probabilities. The Ferret secrets the string away from the Roomba before the Roomba can be destroyed by sucking it into its jaws. Quetzlcoatl Slinks away with her tail between her legs, shaking her head as she admits defeat!

The Winner of the battle? Why, it is Sweetpea, who is currently RIDING the Roomba with NO ill effects! Unfortunately, as the photographer tries to take a picture, the ferret falls off of the device and dances around it instead while appearing to "giggle".

Stay tuned for future fights in the Grafton household!

Swordfight! Will My Inner Animus Triumph?

2005-11-15T12:11:00.000-05:00

On GUARD! My animus screams as he gleefully attacks my own personal demon, Mr. Bealzy, who has come to convince me that I have no reason to exist at all.

"Where'd you get that cool Irish style sword, Animus?" I hate violence, but sometimes the props look simply amazing.

"A gentleman never tells a lady how he procured his sword." My demon, named after Mr. Bealzy in a short story I read as a kid called "Thus I refute you, Bealzy" (anybody know the author of that story? I'd love to read it again!) grabs his tail and the two are fencing.

"You already wasted enough time getting your worthless degree...now you have Multiple Sclerosis and there is NO WAY you will EVER be able to compete with anyone else. It's not like you cared about your future when you were younger, it's not like the schools you went to mean anything---you are a worthless failure who is wasting everyone else's air!" The demon chuckled as he cut my inner animus' arm.

"You bastard!" My animus howled. "I will prevail! I will triumph! That schooling was the best choice we ever made in our lives! I will NEVER regret the decision to go into that Otterbein classroom that night and make the decision we're leaving our meaningless corporate job and no longer taking the easy way out. NEVER!" With that, my animus managed to parry Bealzy's tail successfully and strike Bealzy hard in the side. I never realized that demon blood didn't restrict itself to only one color before. It was a perverted rainbow of ooze.

"Oh, yeah? Say that when your disease finally progresses to the point where you not only have trouble remembering names because your temporal lobe has a lesion, but you can't move! Your life is OVER now! Maybe you would have made it if you'd taken advantage of your genius in your youth, but you squandered yours!"

"I was trying to survive until I could get well enough to make something of myself! I wish I'd never given in to the learned helplessness b.s. you taught me, but now that I've overcome it, I refuse to go back!" My animus yelled. "You know the MAJORITY of MS patients--ESPECIALLY those who were afflicted in their youth--NEVER lose the ability to walk or move? You know there are PLENTY of people who are EXTREMELY successful who have Multiple Sclerosis? Ever seen Teri Garr? I LOVE Teri Garr! You know that the choice to keep one's brain active and solve problems and be active helps you recover? You know they have medications which we are VERY faithful in taking that help stave off further attacks by the immune system and make it more likely for our brain to help heal lesions--a process which HAS been occurring since childhood which is why it took over two decades for us to be diagnosed?

Oh, yeah? Why aren't YOU Teri Garr? Why didn't you use that so called IQ when you were younger?

Because I was a dumbass who gave up trying, that's why. However, during the winter of my discontent I realized that I had the choice to make my life better and I was damned well going to take it! I don't care what you say, I will be a BRILLIANT social psychologist, an amazing lecturer and teacher, and I WILL find a way to correct any problems that my lesions cause so that I can conduct VALID research! I REFUSE to give up!" With that, my animus pierced Bealzy where one of his hearts should be. The demon vanished, with the words:

"I'll be back when you're willing to listen to REASON. They made the Hemlock society for a purpose, you know. Your father was right-"

"Dad was afflicted with his own ills--Borderline personality disorder is what I've always suspected--he took his own insecurities out on everyone dependent upon him. Despite this, though, he managed to do many things that convinced me that he loved me and did the best that he could. It's just that he was suffering so badly from his own trauma and pain that he wasn't ABLE to nurture anyone else!" I screamed back. I looked at my animus.

"It's weird when you realize your parents are human beings with their own pain and failings and successes, isn't it?"

My animus put his arms around me, "Yeah--but it's so much better than just hating them--that's such an easy answer and all it does is cause so much more pain."

"I LOVE this sword," I said, looking at the blade. It was patterned after a beautiful piece I'd seen in a museum somewhere, with a fat curved blade on each side that narrowed quickly into a vicious tip. On the hilt I noticed jewels--there was an emerald, my purple birthstone, and the hilt which you gripped looked like my Irish wedding ring, with two hands coming together towards the emerald (which was heart shaped) and a crown pointing towards the blade.

"Yeah, but it's not exactly practical on the street, now is it?"

"Most muggers are probably just going to shoot you,"

"You're better off just knowing how to avoid being cornered so you don't have to deal with it--talking to yourself and acting crazy helps, but it has the downside of social stigma. There are some moves you and I should practice, though--quick and dirty--you know MS or NO MS you've managed to keep in shape and you're pretty strong. There's no excuse for you to wimp out, ever."

"Yeah," I smiled. "No excuse to wimp out or give up. Never."

Meanwhile, here in Columbus

2005-11-08T10:10:00.000-05:00

Teaching has been wonderful to me. Substituting is much more difficult than some may imagine, as every day I must slide into a new classroom, usually in a different school and subject than the day before. Yesterday was a regular stint for me, as this particular English / Reading teacher gives me all of her time off. The students were thrilled to see me, not as thrilled to settle in to work. They know me well enough to know when they've pushed too many buttons. Today I'm in a fifth grade Special Education classroom that has never had a substitute before. Fortunately, the two aides are doing a lot of prompting so I can figure out what's going on. Tomorrow is another high school, this time teaching business. At least I'm rarely bored.

I have most of the paperwork done in order to move my permanent teaching certificate to Ohio. The one thing that is holding me up is the results of the FBI background check. Considering I wrote about getting my fingerprints in my first entry here, this has been a long wait! I'm really hoping to get things done so I can add my information to REAP, the main web site for teaching applications. There must be a job somewhere that I can tackle full time.

On the home front, it has been a difficult week for us. Pros' grandmother passed away last night after a long illness. One of our fish, a beautiful golden one I had named Lucy, passed away after a brief one. My grandmother is being placed in long term care because she can no longer feed herself and my grandfather is not able to care for her by himself. Pros and I have both been fighting down various minor illness and are exhausted. Last night, I was up until after 2am with depression and panic over having to choose between taking care of Pros' family at the funeral or my own after Grampa comes home alone from the nursing home.

My Dandelionfiles friends, can we find a time, perhaps next month, when we can all meet? I could use a couple of friendly faces.

Nanowrite challenge!

2005-11-05T21:20:00.000-05:00

What have I gotten myself into? I've got ten thousand words but I still don't know the entire plot! Uh, Oh--

Writing Exercise to warm up for Nanowrite Month

2005-10-27T05:44:00.000-04:00

(Working title of the book which I'm starting in November: Experimental Demonology)

Recipe found in Great Aunt Hazel's cookbook

Garden Demon

Description: this demon is very small, about doll size, making it an ideal gift for a child who needs disciplining in a big way. I call them garden demons because they are handy for obliterating any pests such as aphids or rabbits in any vegetable garden. Garden demons are demonic enough to wreak havoc on what you want, but small enough so's you can squash them if they get too irritating. These creatures are good choices for those who are just learning how to conjure!

Ingredients:

6 pomegranate seeds
1 cup myrrrh
1 thimbleful of tears shed by a brokenhearted virgin
One sermon (can be on tape or just a transcript) from Billy Graham
Howdy Doody mask
Picture of a Mogwai as shown in the movie "Gremlins"
Dirt from a graveyard which has NOT been consecrated
Vinyl album from any of the following: Enya, John Tesh, or Yanni
six cat hairs (yes, coat color makes a difference. Tabby cat hair tends to create demons that turn into meatloaves and are too shiftless and lazy to terrorize properly. Personally, I prefer basic black cat hair).
Rabbit or small furry animal that you have exanguinated
(I was kidding about the rabbit or small furry animal bit. You didn't go out and torture one of those cute creatures, did you?)
1 cup Vilma Sadie's Special extra hot demon sauce (can be purchased in town for only 4.99 a bottle and is excellent for barbeques!)

Instructions:

Make sure you are working in an area where you will not be interrupted. I'm telling you this because when the kids wander in and see what you're up to, they're bound to make up incantations of their own and you don't want to know what creatures could be created besides garden demons, trust me.

I personally prefer to conjure on a concrete floor in the basement. It's much easier to clean up afterwards, and the kids are too afraid of the downstairs to bother me much. Crayola works fine for fashioning your ancient symbols and your Futhark letters, and they come up real nice with vinegar so they won't ruin your whole house. Make sure your pentagram is big enough to put all the ingredients in.

Mix all ingredients. Say incantation (see annex of this volume) three times. Make sure your candles were lit in the proper order, and that the candles aren't aromatherapy candles, because that makes demons itchy and harder to command. Do naked creation dance.

Your demon should be ready for you by the time you step out of the circle. Good luck!

The Benefits of Insomnia--or May I Present a Ghost Story?

2005-10-14T14:11:00.000-04:00

Being too sick to manage to do school properly has sucked, but there have been advantages. The first advantage is, of course, the fact I am now in closer proximity to many of my friends and can actually LIVE with my husband. Living away from Tony has been awful for both of us. However, he's got a life planted in Dayton, so we endured the "long distance relationship" for two years while I was at UK. (Translation: a lot of gas was used and our phone bills were astronomical.)

The second advantage is that I got a needed break from Social Psychology--I love my career, but I was missing all the other parts of my life. I missed being able to just hang out with friends without feeling guilty for not studying enough. I missed reading a book for pleasure rather than to support an argument or as a spark I'd use in a paper or study.

I really missed writing for the SAKE of writing, because I actually love to do it. One day I want to become a phenomenal writer, but the only way I've ever seen that happen occurs when people actually do it constantly. This year has at least given me an opportunity to make more "writing mistakes". With luck, this means that I'll actually write something that is amazing rather than "OK" or forgettable.

I have insomnia sometimes. It goes with the MS--my limbs start to tingle, I wake up feeling like pins have been driven into my body and sleep simply won't occur anytime soon. Today I found myself awake at four a.m.--what can a city dweller do at four a.m. that won't annoy the hell out of her spouse? It's annoying enough that I have insomnia, I'd feel reprehensible if I made Tony sick by ruining his health by depriving him of sleep. Solution: yoga, exercise, and writing.

Nobody wants to read ten pages of my scrawl (which I'm finally typing out) on a blog. Here's the deal: you like what you read and actually desire to read the rest of the story, you write me at lynx_cat2005@yahoo.com and I'll send you the rest. If you decide to plagarize me, shame on you--it ain't that good and needs some rewrites still. However, if you have a good feel for what is or isn't working on the story, could you do me a favor and point it out to me so I can actually improve?

The Taking Hour

Be suspicious of any hour. None of them are as innocent as they seem. The Ancient Egyptians understood this; ever seen a museum exhibit in which they reconstruct a burial chamber? In such a chamber, they retell the story of the treacherous journey Ra takes each day to present us with the son. Each hour holds a different adversary. Once Ra’s journey is finished, he still isn’t done. He’s still got to go through the entire process again. However, Ra makes it and human beings can live or play at the beach. Makes you think we’re somewhat ungrateful, doesn’t it?

The Ancient Egyptians forgot to warn humanity of the worst hour. This hour is greedy, unpredictable. I like to refer to it as the Taking hour.

Comic Books Worth Your Time

2005-10-11T11:32:00.000-04:00

I admit it, I'm a comic book freak. Maybe that's not surprising because I love books and good stories. Why be too picky about the form they take? Before you insult me and proclaim me a poor judge, find out more about me. You can't call me anti-intellectual, because I have IQ tests, published stuff, lots of honors, scholarly papers, and a couple of Master's degrees to prove you wrong!

With that in mind, I decided it's time to recommend a couple of amazing series in the hopes that people will recommend other fantastic work to me:

Current series that I am officially in love with:

1.) Fables by Bill Willingham. This series took my breath away and won a few awards to boot. It's a comic book "soap opera" based upon our beloved fairy tales characters, who have taken over a place deep in New York City as well as a farm in upstate New York because they were exiled from their original magical realms. Do you know that Prince Charming is a character in this story? Do you know that he's a serial womanizer? Oh, and how can anybody ever resist a tale which has the Big Bad Wolf as a vyable romantic lead?

2.) Pulse by Brian Michael Bendis. Before you read this gem, make sure to check out Alias, which is a series starring a "not so good comicbook superhero" named Jessica Jones. Jones realizes that being a superhero isn't for her after she is brainwashed by a supervillan and becomes a private detective instead. She's a remarkable character who is unique in that she's human enough to identify with. Before Bendis came onto the comic book scene, I was strictly a DC and independent comic girl. Bendis has made me reconsider my position.

Some oldies that deserve looking over:
1.) Sandman by Neil Gaiman. In fact, look over ANY comic book series that this man writes for. You will never be disappointed.

2.) Swamp Thing by Alan Moore; League of Extrodinary Gentlemen by Alan Moore; From Hell by Alan Moore, OK, ANYTHING by Alan Moore. Disregard any bad movies based off his stuff (The League of Extrodinary Gentlemen was incredibly bad), take any really good movies to heart (From Hell was exceptional even if it did purposefully try to make the ending happier). This man opened the door for all the people working today whose work I admire.

3.) Oh, and if you do read Sandman, check out Willingham's take on Thessaly--a woman you'd never notice because she strikes you as "too boring" with her owl glasses and brownette appearance. Ha:)

I accept your challenge! (finally)

2005-10-10T15:12:00.000-04:00

7 things I plan to do before I die
1.) Learn to bake bread that doesn’t resemble a hockey puck
2.) Finish all the novels/poems/short stories that are in my head
3.) Speak French well enough so that any Francophone who hears me won’t clutch his/her head in pain
4.) Visit Scotland, and see Montreal in the spring one more time
5.) Learn to play one instrument half decently
6.) Learn to can and freeze vegetables as well as my mom could
7.) Stop breathing

7 things I can do right now (sorry, nothing real sexy here):
1.) Summarize the Watergate scandal in a clear and concise fashion
2.) Cross my eyes
3.) Type 65 words per minute with 97% accuracy
4.) Amuse a cat
5.) Speed read
6.) Make the best chocolate chip cookies ever
7.) Be tolerant

7 things I can't do
1.) Have clear skin
2.) Eat enough vegetables
3.) Force people to love me
4.) Slack off at work
5.) Drink a whole beer without gagging
6.) Keep my apartment clean
7.) Learn to love the works of J.R.R. Tolkien

Phrases overused:
1.) "asshat”
2.) “tool/toolbox”
3.) “smoking crack/high”
4.) "Yeeaaahh" (as skepticism)
5.) "[insert curse word here]"
6.) "Noooo!" (in amazement, not anger)
7.) “poster child for [insert dysfunctional state of existence here]”

Celebrity crushes:
1.) Colin Mochrie (yeah, that’d be the balding middle-aged Scottish-Canadian improv comedian)
2.) um, that’s pretty much it, sorry, although I have been known to get through a long/boring movie by figuring out which actor in any given scene I might have sex with (hint: no Scientologists need apply). This also applies to random TV shows that I find myself sucked into. Wouldn’t dignify that with the name “crush” though.

7 Things

2005-10-06T11:54:00.000-04:00

Uh, Oh--Another list of Challenges from Jacklyn!

7 things I plan to do before I die
1.) Travel everywhere--I haven't travelled outside North America!
2.) Publish a novel and some short stories laying about
3.) Be wise.
4.) Get to the point where I can actually USE the languages I learned.
5.) have a child?!? (Maybe?)
6.) Finish my doctorate/get tenure/inspire students to go further than I ever could
7.) Work on an archeological dig or two

7 things I can do right now:
1.) A cartwheel
2.) Find interesting connections between seemingly
unrelated topics and come up with new solutions and possibilities to examine.
3.) Write entire books that don't completely suck
4.) Plan a study
5.) Love well
6.) Laugh at just about anything
7.) See situations from multiple points of view

7 things I can't do
1.) Change the past
2.) Make someone love me who doesn't
3.) Refuse a cat
4.) Forget folk who mean something to me
5.) Make myself not have MS
6.) Feel like anything except like an asshole for being petty, cruel, or using a snappy comeback
7.) Be normal (I've tried, really!)

Phrases overused:
1.) "it's all good" 4.) "I'll keep that in mind" 7.) Heh, heh, heh
2.) "What fresh Hell is this?" 5.) "(insert curse word here:)"
3.) "Howdy" 6.) "Meow?"

Celebrity crushes:
Honestly, celebrities don't turn me on. They're pretty, but that's about it.

Now--other Dandelion Folk--YOUR TURN

7 Things

2005-10-05T17:24:00.000-04:00

I was tagged by my college roomate cats who was tagged by the boston pobble who was tagged by jaded. If you are reading this consider yourself tagged as well. Fortunately, this is NOT one of those good luck / bad luck things, but another way of getting to know each other. No shortcuts on this! It took me a while to come up with 7 for each, but it's worth the thought.

7 things I plan to do before I die:

Cook a full meal without panicking
Write another play
Learn how to do something crafty (ie sewing, crocheting, welding)
Be an amazing aunt to my brother's future children
Take a geology class so I can understand what Pros is talking about
Live in the mountains
Let my hair go back to its natural white color

7 things I can do:

Recite the opening of Canterbury Tales in Middle English
Sing up to a high B Flat when I'm warmed up
Teach seventh graders how to enjoy reading and writing poetry
Run a radio station for four hours completely by myself
Plunge a toilet
Select a great bottle of wine
Break a pine board with my forehead

7 things I cannot do:

Learn foreign languages
Read music (I'm a functionally illiterate singer)
Drive a motorcycle
Change the oil in my car
Run a mile without slowing down
Reach the top shelf over my kitchen sink
Keep my desk organized

7 things that I say most often:

"Oy..."
"Take care"
"Hiya!"
"You're kidding"
"Okay, class..."
"Oh, shite!"
"What's new and exciting?"

7 celebrity crushes:

Trent Reznor
Adam Glasser (from "Family Business", don't ask)
Owen Wilson
Jon Stewart
Stephen Colbert
Eddie Izzard
Kevin Smith

My inner Animus

2005-09-29T21:36:00.000-04:00

"Who are you again?" He was sprawled out on my bed, making me worry. He was cute, but in a familiar way--we looked enough alike that I honestly had a case of the creeps. "Did John give our apartment key to somebody else again?" I asked suspiciously.

"I'm part of you. Don't you read Jung?"

"Part of me? Is this some kind of romantic obsessive weird thing? What's this about Jung, anyway? I haven't read him in years. I'm just not into that whole Freudian circle thing, OK?"

"He got rejected by Freud--he got too much attention."

"OK--I remember that part. Now, before I call the police, who are you again?"

"I am your inner animus. Your hidden male side to your personality."

"Really? I have an inner animus? Cool! Can you teach me how to spit?"

"Yep--and you're well hung, too. In case you were wondering."

"Um...no, actually. The whole thought brings masturbation to a whole new, weird level that I just don't want to think about right now. My head hurts enough already. By the way, speaking of headaches, does this have to do with the fact I've had the stomach flu for a month in a half?"

"How bad is your fever? Sheesh, your forehead is hot, girl. You call your doctor lately?"

"It's only at 101! That's a record--it was hovering around 102 for a week and a half! And yes, he knows all about it. So why are you visiting me, inner animus? Surely you have something better to do than to brag about appendages that technically don't exist on me?"

"Well, it's about your assertiveness. You need to be more assertive if you want to save your Psych career."

"All right."

"You haven't taken over your study proposal yet, have you? You're afraid it sucks. You're afraid that you suck. You're afraid that the fact you have a few lesions in your head means that it's all over, that you'll never be capable of competing against other bright people in your field, aren't you?"

"Well--um..."

"Well, listen here, Toots. We didn't survive and deal with all that crapola so you could sit on your kiester here and GIVE UP, did we? You may have a few holes in your head, but you're still brilliant and you still have a LOT to give this world. Hell, your creativity alone has to count for something. Therefore, as your animus, I am telling you to GET OFF YOUR SORRY ASS and DO something about it."

"Okay--okay--it's just my current methodology blows chunks."

"Well, start tinkering with it, will you? Sheesh. Don't sit there and avoid things and expect your life to get better! Move it before I have to get nasty with you! To the library to look up more sources! Onward!"

"Where did that whip come from, anyway! Ouch! OK, OK, I'm GOING! By the way, there's something unsettling about the idea my inner animus has a sadistic streak!"

"Cruel to be kind, sweetie."

"That's what Marlene, my inner bad girl, said! I didn't appreciate her, either!"

"Yeah, but at least she'd share a cigarette with me. Now GET BACK TO WORK!"

I guess I'd better start hopping.

Musical Plugs that are Too Deserved

2005-09-22T12:17:00.000-04:00

Maybe I'm just abusing the power of being a blogger, but I feel it's a personal responsibility of mine to turn people onto really great musicians in Dayton.

Obviously I adore my husband's band, Low Tech Riff Raff and their link is on the side of this blog. However, there are a couple other folk who deserve your attention and make incredible music:

Emily Strand : It's a good thing I'm happily married--I am in love with this woman and could really embarrass myself otherwise. She's a professor at UD (she deals with Women's Religion) who is doing well in her field and still manages to find time to be an incredible musician. Those lucky enough to be in the Tri-State area can enjoy her concerts at Canal Street, Bogarts (Cincinnati), or even The Trolley Stop. Do yourselves a favor and visit this woman's site and get a sample or two of her music--oh, yeah, and if you like what you see, do yourself a favor and buy a CD or two (we've worn out a couple:).

Eric Loy: ericloy.com--this man is an incredible guitarist--he makes guitars do things they shouldn't, it sounds incredible, and the guitar actually seems to appreciate the attention.

Jim Volk: jimvolk.com. Do you like amazing guitarists? Check Jim Volk out. You won't be disappointed.

Sharon Lane: this woman is an institution in Dayton--she's one of the best Blues singers in the Tri-State area. If she gets a website I'll post it--until then, you can bug me or Tony or visit the Lowtech site, and we'll help you contact her. By the way, Sharon Lane took vows and married Tony and I!

Michael Kelsey: Another incredible guitarist who you'd be cheating yourself if you didn't give a listen to. The link is www.michaelkelsey.com--he can do a rhythm guitar like nobody's business.

Quetzlcoatl now has her own site

2005-09-21T20:55:00.000-04:00

She took over my house from the time she was six weeks old, she's taken over my friends and family...and now I find that my cat, Quetzlcoatl, was about to take over my blog. There was only one solution--to give Quetzlcoatl the site she needed on her own. The link's on the side of the page, she's going to be joined by Jacklyn Hyde's cat, Pandora, and any bad things that happen to anyone who takes their advice is not our personal fault.

Feel free to visit, though, or to write the site--askquetzlcoatl@yahoo.com for any interested parties.

Are you a DandeLion or a Dandemouse?

2005-09-21T20:39:00.000-04:00

OK--it's up to me to issue some challenges here for all members of the Dandelion Tribe as well as any onlookers who wish to have our amoral support.

Nanowrite is about to start again. In case you haven't heard of it, Nanowrite is a website in which people get together, each year, to write a 50,000 word novel during the month of November. It's a lot of fun--the idea is to write without any thought to your inner editor--you can mess with that later--and to actually make yourself finish something quickly.

Signups begin on October first--go to the following page:

Nanowrite Signup Page

I've thought of a working title for what I want to do, but the rest will be figured out come November 1st (no cheating, after all). My working title? Experimental Demonology, a Love Story.

Who is with me?

Quetzlcoatl Answers

2005-09-20T15:18:00.000-04:00

Dora--is that you, honey? You haven't meowed over the phone recently--I've been concerned. A move from Philadelphia had to be a painful experience.

Please remember--human beings don't always understand things. To them, a giant fish tank is merely entertainment--they don't realize the tantalizing aspect of it providing perfectly decent snack food.

My advice? Wait 'till they go out, call me (I'm on speeddial), then I'll tell you how to open the tank and help yourself. If they get upset, remember the "big eyes" our species are famous for. We can cute ourselves out of just about anything.

Quetzlcoatl

Dear Quetzlcoatl

2005-09-20T10:02:00.000-04:00

I have borrowed my person's computer to register a complaint. Don't get me wrong; this is a great place she and I are living in now, so I'm not complaining about that as long as nobody steps on my tail.

I understand the little creature (the person of that one refers to her as a PEEG, but she looks like a weird kitten to me) in the cage is not a snack food. My person pays a little more attention to her than I'd like, but the hay the PEEG eats just doesn't taste that good, so I feel sorry for her.

However, WHY won't she let me hunt in the fish tank? Hello, I'm an indoor kitty, but I still have instincts!

--Pandora

Ask Quetzlcoatl

2005-09-19T09:51:00.000-04:00

This is me shamelessly sucking up for a cat treat.

Dear Quetzlcoatl,

I am a person at loose ends in his life. I wake up each morning and go to work, but it's like the world has a permanent shade of gray. I can't feel like anything is worthwhile, and I can't bring myself to do anything about it.

What gives?

Signed,

Feeling Ennui

Ennui Man,

Something struck me about your message. First, not ONCE did you mention the feelings of your owner (feline or canine in nature). This is not a good thing. How can a mere human stand against the "slings and arrows" (nobody realizes this, but it was Shakespeare's cat who was responsible for his masterpieces. Unfortunately, Will had the nerve to remove the most riveting sections of the plays, the ones involving mouse hunting. The literary world suffers still. Sigh.) of the world without moral guidance? Where is the cat or dog who can guide your conduct about life? It's obvious to see what the problem is here.

Get your ass to the nearest Humane society pronto. Oh, and while you're at it, go ahead and make an appointment with a decent doctor who can help you get some of those pills that help humans so much and talk to you about why you can't see obvious solutions to life (such as pet ownership).

Quetzlcoatl

All right, I'll take up that challenge.

2005-09-16T16:23:00.000-04:00

1. I have a basic distrust of most people.
2. I don’t believe in an interventionist God.
3. Libraries are like churches to me.
4. Some characters in books have been better friends to me than anyone.
5. I could read before I could speak.
6. I have never considered myself a great beauty.
7. I’m pretty sure no one else has considered me a great beauty either.
8. The older I get, the more I realize that I have other loveable qualities.
9. I am loyal to my friends.
10. I am generous to my friends.
11. I don’t have many friends.
12. The friends I have are the best friends in the world.
13. I’m glad that I’m growing old, because superficial male attention is pretty boring.
14. I don’t care for my job much.
15. I’m glad that I can have a job and support myself.
16. I am independent in many ways and becoming more independent all the time.
17. I believe in facing the things I most fear, even if I don’t always have the courage to.
18. I prefer to look at asymmetry rather than symmetry.
19. I’ve been diagnosed with a mental illness.
20. I’m constantly told that I think too much for my own good.
21. I like to think about things.
22. Not thinking about things has caused me worlds of hurt.
23. I’ve been really lazy in the past.
24. I’m learning not to be so lazy.
25. The only part of my face I dislike is my large chin cleft.
26. I have a love/hate relationship with faith.
27. I have a love/hate relationship with skepticism.
28. My dreams are often very vivid.
29. My dreams are often very wise.
30. The older I get, the less I like fried food.
31. When you’re self-absorbed, finding fifty things to say about yourself is pretty easy.
32. My favorite good-for-you food is an apple.
33. My favorite foods are bread and ice cream.
34. I eat lots of apples.
35. I don’t eat much bread or ice cream these days.
36. I have a very dry sense of humor.
37. I inherited my sense of humor from my dad.
38. I inherited my intellect from my dad.
39. My sister is smarter than I am.
40. My sister is less compassionate than I am.
41. I inherited my compassion from my mom.
42. I’m an OK writer.
43. I hate writing.
44. I hate television.
45. Most movies bore me.
46. I enjoy painting.
47. I love solving mysteries.
48. I love unsolved mysteries.
49. I love listening to music.
50. I love to laugh.

To Honor Jackyn's Suggestion

2005-09-15T13:49:00.000-04:00

20 things about me (50's too much)

1. I am an unrepentant book addict. I once went to BA (Books Anonymous) and managed to "dry out" a bit, but a librarian infiltrated the group and slipped me some short stories and I've been far gone ever since.
2. I don't watch TV--not because of snobbery or somesuch, but because most times I like books better and the only TV shows I've liked in the past three years (Firefly, Dead Like Me, Wonderfalls) usually get great ratings from critics and then are promptly cancelled.
3. Exception to #2: I adore The Daily show, but that's not enough to justify a cable bill. Luckily, Jacklyn and Pros help by taping episodes for me:).
4. My cats are meglomaniacal. It's funny and scary all at the same time.
5. I'm taking a year or so off of my Ph.D. program in Social Psychology so that I can go back in remission--recently I found out I've had (fortunately relatively mild) multiple sclerosis for years and years and didn't know about it!
6. I always figured that each year I mustn't have been a good girl despite my hard work and intentions--I never got visited by the Sanity Claus
7. Pros saved my life when I was seventeen.
8. His lady, Jacklyn, utterly rocks and I hope to be friends with her for the rest of her life.
9. My friends are incredible folks--their blogs are worth your time. Check the new "links" on the right side over there.
10. I get bored talking about myself too much--I like discussing ideas and figuring other folks out more.
11. Yeah, the most important employer I have already knows about the MS and doesn't have a problem with it, so I don't know why I don't just use my full name on the blog profile, but I don't just yet.
12. October is my favorite month.
13. During High school, some well meaning family tried to teach me how to "be a girl"--they rewarded me for speaking "valley speak" (which I realized far too much later only made me sound like a moron) and used to buy "Sweet Valley High" and quiz me about these (really dumb) books. I preferred other books--specifically, the cache of H.P. Lovecraft I'd found in a few attics (yeah, the racism annoyed me then and it still does--I kept thinking, "what is this guy's problem with different nationalities"?). To amuse myself, I'd try to combine story lines from H.P. Lovecraft's tales and the (exceptionally dull) Sweet Valley High series.
14. The well-meaning relatives did not appreciate my efforts.
15. A nickname I earned in my late teens/early twenties was "My little Wednesday Addams". Every once in awhile, I still hear it.
16. I hate it when friends die, and still mourn a few that have exited life too quickly.
17. My friends are all ages--from 3 years old to one-hundred-and three!
18. I can't bring myself to write depressing things anymore, not only because it's boring but because life's too good to waste time on that. A favorite quote of mine was said by Oscar Wilde: "Life's too important to be taken seriously"
19. I'm a skeptic and proud of it. Sadly, that once was not true and it still makes me feel embarrassed to think about it.
20. I have two master's degrees--one in general Psychology from UD and one in Social from UK--with a Ph.D. to hopefully follow. If you're interested further, my focus is currently on how to prevent the abuse of power. I'm writing an ethics proposal now for a study I'm trying to start at the college I teach part-time at (wish me luck in getting it approved/being allowed to use students as a subject pool!)

50 things about JacklynHyde

2005-09-15T12:46:00.000-04:00

One of my friends made a list of 100 things about herself, but I decided to be brief for my version. Hopefully everyone on Dandelionfiles will give this a shot?

I am who I am
I am a writer
Two of my pieces have been published
Both of them were about someone who died
He’s been gone almost eight years
Sometimes it’s tough to recall his face
I’ve been singing all my life
I’ve been singing well since I was 16
I tend to use performance to hide
Nobody knows how shy I can be
I recently moved to Ohio
I miss Philadelphia
I had few friends left there when I moved
My brother moved out of state before I did
He also got married first
This is okay
My sister in law is the sister I’ve always wanted
I am getting married next summer
Marriage is more important the wedding
The wedding is mostly for my parents
My fiancé makes up for my deficits
I am more social than my fiancé
He is more practical than I am
I am afraid that I’ll be a terrible wife
Cooking and cleaning annoy me
It’s tough to get motivated
I’m working part time in a wine shop
My knowledge of wine is getting better
I’ve met some great people in the shop
I haven’t been social with them
My fiancé would rather stay home and watch a DVD
Romantic comedies make me cry
I can be very lonely at times
I don’t make friends easily
I’ve started substitute teaching
Both of my parents are teachers
They don’t understand why I can’t get a full time job
My student teaching left me unsure if I can teach
My gut tells me to get over it and get into a classroom
My mother is in poor health
Most of her problems are due to her weight
I’ve tried to help her change her eating habits
I’m bracing for her to die younger than she should
My father is too stubborn to die young
He is very like his mother was
She has Alzheimer’s now
I am terrified of inheriting this illness
I do crossword puzzles to keep my brain working
My late grandfather was a crossword puzzle addict
He would have loved my fiancé

Episode Two of "When Butterflies Attack"--the "Butterfly Menace"

2005-09-12T08:56:00.000-04:00

Hordes of people gathered around the Arboretum, who denied responsibility for little Timmy's horrible death.

"We have signs up for a reason, people," a park ranger said.

That was enough to stir certain folks who had come to visit from Kentucky into action. The rushed the butterfly house with a variety of weapons, many of which they swore were "hunting rifles" although I thought they looked a little complicated for that.

These men--referring to themselves as "the Kentucky Calvary"--were bright and cheery in their camoflaged Kevlar. They charged the house, and suddenly the house was filled with sound and fury.

Screaming was heard.

The emergency squad, which had been called after the cops fell over from laughing at the whole mess, went to clean up the carnage. Instead of shooting any flesh eating butterflies, the Kentucky Calvary managed to shoot each other instead. Since they were wearing Kevlar, they didn't kill themselves but instead admitted to this reporter that they felt "like real dumbasses. Those little buggers are hard to aim at."

"The worst thing is that I lost my hat," a calvaryman who was wearing a baseball cap with artifical breasts and two straws attached to his favorite cans of beer on the side of the cap. "Man, I loved that thing." The man had tears in his eyes. Apparently, the "courage session" in which the calvary had drunk large quantities of Kentucky bourbon and beer had not only managed to elicit courage but had interfered with their shooting abilities as well.

What shall we do? Wherever can we go? The calvary has failed us!

2005-09-11T13:51:00.000-04:00

Behold-the FLESH EATING BUTTERFLY

In search of--Help wanted!

2005-09-09T12:05:00.000-04:00

I desperately need to negotiate payment with a decent editor. Many writers resent editors. I am NOT one of them. Trust me, if you're valid and know enough about what makes stories work as well as are knowledgeable about the grammar preferred by editors at papers or short story writers (humor and horror--yep, I'm a genre girl at the moment--although I even have some things that friends assure me may even be literary in nature) I won't resent you at all. I will be very, VERY grateful. It's too easy to get "married" to rotten prose or stuff that bogs a story down--throw in the fact I have MS and there are a couple of brain lesions that make errors easier for me to make (and harder to see)--I really need a good editor. Let me know how you want to be credited in my work or even if you need a percentage of whatever I make off of something--that's fair, and I'm OK with that.

I want to pay you for your trouble. I'm hoping for the barter system, (I will even do chores such as housecleaning and massages--I'm very strong, have been taught by a certified massage therapist, and have fixed a few people's backs. I've been told I give amazing massages) but I'll sell books, CD's, whatever, to make your fee.

Here's what I'm looking for--

1.) Please--be specific about what's wrong. Don't just use red ink with no explanation--if a sentence is awkward, please let me know and explain WHY it doesn't work! Please let me know exactly what's not working in the story format. If a scene detracts, if a character is vague or badly written, clue me in and let me know how to fix the errors. I once made the mistake of trying to get a guy who claimed to be an editor to look over a play I'd written for a class and, as it turned out, he was actually so jealous of my ability (which is strange to me--I have a VERY long way to go until I'm a good writer) that he simply crossed out nearly everything. I couldn't understand what he was talking about or what the deal was, so I ended up turning the play in "as is"--and got the highest grade in the class (as well as had the thing acted out during a skit week) as well as received a cheesy award for it. Looking over it now, it's too wordy and the rhythm of the character's diaglouge is off--but then again, this was a college class, not the "real world".

2.) Please let me negotiate payment with you. No, I'm not rich--however, I can give sweat instead of dollars and save you a lot of time and frustration in your life. (And, as I explained, I give killer massages.) I currently try to do chores, grade papers, etc., for a friend of mine who is kind enough to let me do laundry at her place. If you do need cash, though--can you accept payments? Tony's been encouraging me for years to work on developing my writing and making cash off of that, and that's what I'd like to do here.

Let me know if anybody's interested. My yahoo mail is lynx_cat2005@yahoo.com

Thanks!

The Trouble with Butterflies

2005-09-07T21:02:00.000-04:00

Cox Arboretum, which houses a structure known only as "the butterfly house", does not allow guests to visit within it after four p.m. Recently, little ten-year-old Timmy recently found out why.

"I told him not to go in there. I told him that the dare was stupid. But he insisted, so I made sure that I got custody of his Game Boy first," his younger brother Stevie insisted. "Now I get to play with all his games whenever I want. Mom and Dad are grief-stricken--but he had cool games!"

Last night, little Timmy accepted a dare so that he could be the top kid of his cub scout pack. It was then that he learned the awful truth about the kinds of butterflies Cox Arboretum tries to hide from the public eye.

" Blood was everywhere!" Mark, a fellow cub scout, insisted. "It was just like one of them movies we sneak around to see. He walked into the tent, all confident like and taking off his cap. Then--only then--did we see them."

"I never knew butterflies were dangerous," Shelby, a nerdy scout said. "I screamed for him to get out, but then the other guys gathered around and beat me up." Shelby still had bandages on his nose from the incident. "All the sudden, he was surrounded, I can still hear his voice screaming, 'I didn't think they had teeth'. I can still hear the beating of their colorful wings!"

Despite a lawsuit brought about by Timmy's parents, Cox Arboretum refuses to acknowledge any liability.

"Look--we said the thing was closed. Did he LISTEN? No. He CHOSE to go in there." One ranger of the park said.

Tune in for further updates!

But Seriously Folks

2005-09-06T13:25:00.000-04:00

BLOG PSA: Please do your part to help the folks in New Orleans. God knows FEMA isn't. At least Bush is FINALLY getting called on his mistakes (I wondered if he had more teflon than Reagan did!). Contact the Red Cross, follow the link Jacklyn posted...anything you can. Those people are in a fix and they deserve all the help they can get.

OK--so's I'm not that good at being too serious. My other blog, "Dandelion Wine" (www.dandelionsinbloom.com) was supposed to be a serious blog--but I'm going to be straight with you--I can be very serious, but I've learned the hard way that sometimes the only way to deal with anything is to laugh at it. As Molly Ivins put it, "It's so much better for you than crying or throwing up".

COMING SOON. A touching, nature oriented piece (that may indeed be making fun of a certain network)that deals with the sensitive issue of the relationship between bugs and humans:

I like to call it "WHEN BUTTERFLIES ATTACK"

You CAN do something!

2005-09-02T20:19:00.000-04:00

Even if you can only organize or make phone calls, check out http://informationisgolden.blogspot.com/ for how you can pinpoint need for cities within 100 miles of New Orleans. People are still there and are in dire straits. My friend ICEKNIFE is trying to unite bloggers in aiding Louisiana residents. Do what you can!

2005-09-01T11:40:00.000-04:00

Jacklyn has complained I don't have enough pictures that smile on the blog--here one is

Uh, oh, THE ADVERTISERS HAVE FOUND US!

2005-08-30T16:27:00.000-04:00

Well, I don't know whether to be amused, flattered, or unpleasantly surprised--the advertisers have finally stumbled onto our silly little site.

For the record (seeing as I'm a girl) I don't really need my penis enlarged. I've been told courage wise, though, that for a woman I have a really big set of balls, and truthfully, that's enough for little old me. I'm really happy with the pieces and parts that nature has provided me. As for weight loss, etc., unfortunately, I seem to be losing weight involuntarily at a rate of ten pounds a month since I started my new treatment--subtract ten pounds from the picture I posted and you'll know where I am physically right now--yeah, I'm seeing my doctor as soon as I can.

I respect commercialism, but could you people refrain from using our site? Seriously--the only way I'll post ads here is if we get some kind of compensation here. We're just a silly little blog. I won't even wear clothes with brand names prominently displayed on the principle of "they should be paying me to advertise, not vice versa". And yeah, I'm considering a part time job at an ad agency, so it's not like I think it's a horrible thing to advertise or anything like that.

SO-- anyone who actually likes the site and would like to be a part of it--let's ask about the comments here. Should the comments be limited to fellow bloggers? What do you think?

Yeah, so I've only read one good book recently...

2005-08-29T21:29:00.000-04:00

at least I read one. I've just had a run of bad luck. (I would avoid The Devil in the White City and Ahab's Wife. Too much serial killer in the first, too much smugness in the second, not enough architecture in either.)
That good book is... The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time by Mark Haddon. If I were to tell you that it's written from the point of view of an autistic teenager who sets out to find who killed the neighbor's dog, you'd probably think, Not the old Sound and the Fury trick again! But let me reassure you that at no point will you have to consult Masterplots. (I finished this book in three hours.)
Everything about this book is amazing. Our hero, Christopher Boone, in spite of being completely unable to comprehend other human beings' emotions, feelings, etc., is a remarkable, courageous and thoughtful person. (I have to add that I also found him charming in his obsessively mathematical way, but in the interest of full disclosure I should say that Grissom is my favorite character on CSI, so I don't mind a little autism in my protagonists. His love of the Sherlock Holmes stories mirrors mine as well.) The other characters, in spite of Christopher's complete inability to understand their motives (and his is the only perspective you have), manage to come across as fully human -- a sign to me that this writer knows what he's doing. (I would tell you the other character that I thought was well-done, but that would constitute a pretty big spoiler.) The plot has enough twists and turns to satisfy those who picked it up thinking, Oh, an homage to Sherlock Holmes then, must be a mystery. There is also adventure and danger (and mathematics), and the ending is as satisfying as it could possibly be.
I know this was a bestseller five years ago or something, but I'm remedial on pop culture like that. All I can say is, if you haven't read this, please do so immediately. Thanks for your time.
I am cooking up an essay on Stephen Jay Gould's The Mismeasure of Man at my own blog as well. It should be ready for viewing and rotten vegetable throwing soon.

Jacklyn's turn to suggest books!

2005-08-29T17:40:00.000-04:00

I started reading Happiness, which is on Lynx's list. This is going to be GOOD. As for mine:

Till We Have Faces by C.S. Lewis. Yes, the one who created Narnia and was equally well known for his religious writing. This is something completely different. Oural, the Queen of Glome, is writing her memoirs as an accusation against the gods for taking her beloved youngest sister away from her. This is a retelling of the myth of Cupid and Psyche done in a way that had me reconsidering how I viewed a lot of truths in life.
The King Must Die by Mary Renault. This is another retelling of a popular myth, this time the story of Theseus. In this, case, however, the gods are absent. This allows the characters to follow their individual practices and customs without Poseidon himself coming down to straighten things out. What a masterpiece!
Callahan's Crosstime Saloon by Spider Robinson. This is a much lighter, sillier suggestion than my previous two, so pick this one up if you need a break. The characters still ponder the fate of humanity and the conservation of pain and joy, but it's done in a bar somewhere on Long Island. This is the start of a series, but this collection of "reality with a twist" short stories stands on its own.
Perfume by Patrick Suskind. There are rumors that this book will make the leap to film, but I cannot imagine it being done. The narrative focuses so distinctly on scent that only the page does it the best justice. From the beginning, you know that you are about to enter the mind of a serial killer, but the rest unfolds in a completely original manner.
The Lovely Bones by Alice Sebold. Yes, this book was the one everyone read a year or so ago. It was so popular because it's so beautifully written that I was drawn in by the first page. Many of the places mentioned in the novel are around my hometown, so it was even more chilling to read this story from the point of view of a murder victim as she watches life go on without her.

Enjoy! What does everyone else have to offer?

Five Reads Worth Your Time

2005-08-28T14:38:00.000-04:00

The Big Over Easy by Jasper Fforde: Are you a bibliophile? If so, Jasper Fforde is the mystery writer who is meant for you. The Big Over Easy was actually his first novel, which was not published until after he came out with the Thursday Next series—a detective tale in which literary work is more important in society than a movie star ever could be (my kind of place!). This novel centers on the work of a “Nursery Crimes” detective, Jack Spratt (who can’t stop feeling a sense of déjà vu as he notices magical beans growing in his mother’s garden to epic proportions). Incredibly amusing, with just enough social commentary so you don’t have to feel too guilty about frittering away your time with your nose stuck in a book. In fact, I’d like to recommend all of his books—read the Thursday Next series to see what happened to his first novel to make it publishable! Jasper Fforde has an ideal sense of the ridiculous—who doesn’t need to indulge in that once in a while?

Happiness ™ by Will Ferguson: Another amazingly amusing read. What would happen if someone actually wrote a self-help book that worked? The world as we know it might end! This book was actually remaindered at Barnes and Noble, which is a sad, foolish thing—do yourself a favor and pick it up, seeing as it’s selling much cheaper than it should be. You won’t be sorry.

Poptart by Liz Langley: It was this book of amusing essays (several stick in my mind, but right now one concerning Kenny Loggins’ affair with his colonist is making me chuckle) that helped me fall in love first with Langley’s essays (she’s online—look her up and subscribe to her paper) that mentions Ferguson’s book. Since she’s a good humorist, I thought it was my responsibility to mention her here.

How the Universe Got its Spots by Janna Levin: Oh, science geeks rejoice—especially science geeks who never got their share of cosmology. Levin is not only a good science writer (she has a gift for making very hard concepts make sense to the layperson) but she’s a good writer in general—her book centers partially upon her work as well as her life. As she explores her field and starts to feel isolated from the rest of the world, her universe starts to alter.

A Book of Bees and How to Keep Them: by Sue Hubbell: This is another one for the science geeks—in this case, those of us who secretly long to become naturalists. Hubbell became a beekeeper after a mental breakdown—but it’s her writing that will probably be appreciated most by society. She’s got a lively voice, amusing commentary, and enough factoids to make any subject fascinating. (OK—I find bugs interesting—but then again, I’m a geek. What do you expect from me? It’s you I’m concerned about.) She’s also got enough emotion to keep her work from getting dry. If you love this book, make sure to get A Country Year, which is the book that made me fall in love with her work to begin with.

Alma Mater emergency!

2005-08-25T17:14:00.000-04:00

There's a total mess going on at my college radio station, WMUH-Allentown, http://www.muhlenberg.edu/wmuh/WMUH.ram if you want to check out the noise. This is a copy of the email that has gone out to all the alum from the station:

Some of you may recall that approximately one year ago, WLVT-TV Channel 39 failed in its attempt to appropriate the local NPR affiliate in the Lehigh Valley, radio station WDIY. Undeterred, Channel 39 has now turned its attention to WMUH.

Details are sketchy at this time, as the proposal has not been made public; indeed, both Channel 39 and Muhlenberg have only confirmed in the last 2 days that the proposal was made, although it was submitted shortly after the students left for summer break. I have ascertained from a reliable source outside the college that the proposal involves Channel 39 supplying Muhlenberg the equipment for high-definition digital FM broadcasting, which includes two HD channels, in exchange for control of the 91.7 frequency. According to this source, any activity on the main HD channel will all be controlled by WLVT. WMUH will get the leftovers so to speak. Rather than dismantling the current set-up, WLVT will marginalize it. My feeling is they will want to brand the main signal with their identity so I view it as a hijacking of the signal. Pat Simon at WLVT confirmed the proposal and stated there was "no deal" yet. She also stated there is room for "two" public radio stations in the Lehigh Valley.

This admission from Pat Simon certainly indicates that the plan would at the very least try to turn WMUH into a "public radio station". The benefit to Channel 39 is obvious; gaining access to the broadcast frequency to increase their revenue stream without having to invest in a license or build and staff a station of their own. What Muhlenberg stands to gain is dubious at best, as almost no one owns HD compatible radios as yet.

But the bigger issue is about media consolidation and ever-diminishing independent voices. As one of the first licensed college radio stations in the world, WMUH has been an asset to both Muhlenberg and the Lehigh Valley community for over 50 years. In my view, the college must recognize that the license itself is priceless, a hands-on learning opportunity for its students in perpetuity, not to mention one of the only voices for the different cultures in the diverse Lehigh Valley. The license to broadcast was granted by the FCC to Muhlenberg College for its students, not to an existing broadcast outlet anxious to consolidate its base. Any proposal that takes 91.7 away from the students is a bad deal for the College and the community at large.

Random Quiz

2005-08-22T20:32:00.000-04:00

1. Your views on violence are:
a. useful
b. a fact of life, agression is inherent in the species
c. the only violence you can stand is fictional
d. violence? Why can't you Americans talk about something more amusing, like sex? Sheesh.

2. Favorite Wilson brother:
a. Luke
b. Owen

3. Feelings about Katie and Tom Cruise?
a. All for it
b. She's brainwashed!
c. Why should I be worried about this? Doesn't someone have a useful story about something else for a change?
d. Who?

4. (For those whose sexual orientation is towards men) Favorite fictional heartthrob:
a. Heathcliff from Wuthering Heights
b. Romeo from the Bard's Romeo and Juliet
c. Atticus Finch from Harper Lee's To Kill a Mockingbird
d. Rochester from Jane Eyre

5. (For those whose sexual orientation is towards men) Favorite fictional heartbreaker)
a. Galatea, from Pygmaillion
b. Juliet, from Romeo and Juliet
c. Isadora Wing from Fear of Flying by Erica Jong
d. Madame Bovary from novel of same name

6. Reaction when discovered Jasper Fforde's The Big Over Easy was finally being put on the shelves of your local bookstore?
a. Who?
b. Who goes to bookstores?
c. Your husband/wife bundles you off in the car first thing and picks up the book, which you both argue over "first reading rights" over an hour about.
d. OK, I'll look in the library for this author. Is he amusing? What is with all those f's, anyway?

7. Most frequent argument with spouse througout entire relationship:
a. concerning exes/fidelity/sex
b. concerning finances
c. Damn, it, I bought the book first and I only went to the bathroom for one whole minute. Won't you at least let me finish the chapter before you take it over?
d. "argument" is too general a term--what kind of argument? A fun, amusing argument or drag down fight?

8. The 1980's:
a. Look, I was only a baby then
b. I still miss them!
c. Sucked
d. Look, it was just a decade, OK?

Interpretation:

those who answered a's on everything:
--Wow! You people are the reason I started to study psychology in the first place? You are an endless source of mystery for me, as I do not understand you at all. Please live on, my personal muses.

Those who answered b's on everything: (see a's--you aren't that different)-- however, I got to give you kudos for your choice of Wilson brothers.

Those who answered "b" to the Wilson question and c's to everything else: My goodness, it's official--you're my clone! Do me a favor and email me so we can figure out how to most efficently timeshare responsibilities and stretch out leisure time more effectively.

--c's who answered a to the Wilson brother question--all right we're almost in sync with only a key issue at stake--your taste in men. I'll admit that Luke is cute, but does he make you laugh?

d's--obviously you folks are my buddies--how else would I ever learn anything about the world? Drop me a line and we'll chat. I promise not to bring up Tom or Katie.

2005-08-18T16:48:00.000-04:00

Tibetan monks are creating a mandala at our library to be scattered over Riverscape tommorrow--it's too gorgeous not to share with everyone.

Disturbing discoveries

2005-08-14T19:55:00.000-04:00

My favorite UPS guy looked sheepish the other day.

"Um...Jules--be careful when you actually USE this." He looked at his feet.

"Huh?" I said, but he scuttled away--

I opened the package. In it, there was a strange machine. On its side were the words MAN TRANSLATION DEVICE. Paperwork included explained "Finally, what all women need! Something to finally explain the opposite sex's actual words, as well as what they actually hear when you speak to them!"

I was intrigued. I am a Social Psychologist, so I need to understand all of humanity I possibly can. Normally it wouldn't occur to me to need a Man translator, since men were the other half of my species, but what the heck? I mean, surely we couldn't possibly be that different, right?

I twisted the knobs of the machine to translate the "huh?" I'd said to the UPS guy.

Instantly, I spoke the words of the UPS guy into the machine. Here's what he actually heard me say:

Oh, look at my pert breasts! Now, take me now!

Shocked, I dropped the thing. The hell?

I have finished translating all things I've actually said to men--as well as have translated electronic mail messages sent and I am disturbed. For example, out of curiosity I contacted a guy I once knew in High School to see what had happened to him. In my message I tried hard to NOT be flirtatious--made a big point to explain I was hitched, happily so, and just wanted to see what happened to him.

Actual message sent:

"I'm happily married and therefore don't want to appear like I am stalking you or hitting on you."

What did he hear?

"Oh, baby--I've been waiting for you all these years. Come to my town, throw me against the wall and DO ME NOW. My husband can't wait to watch."

I decided to curl up into a little ball.

I decided to try the other track--what they mean when they speak.

OK--friends of mine have been baffled in dating, I decided to ask it phrases men have spoken to them that have upset them greatly, "I'll call you."

"Forget it, honey--unless you give me head."

Now I am seriously depressed. Is the machine wrong? In the name of science, I took the machine over to friends who refuse to admit their names in this blog. Let's call one Vixen, the other Daphne. Vixen is a delightful Swedish woman with pixiesque features and the kind of light blond hair that seems fictional but isn't.
In the interest of science, I have asked them to finish this post using their observations:

VIXEN'S OBSERVATIONS:

" I will be there soon."

" Soon is a relative time--I'll head out the door after I've had a sandwich or two and have stopped to get a beer, then I'll make sure to make several stops on the way to her house, making it indicate two hours and 45 minutes."

" Just a little longer till we get there"

"Where the Hell are we? I can't ask for directions--I have a superior penis homing device and know that if we wait a little longer it can guide us where we need to go. If she keeps asking for silly things like directions I'm going to simply ignore her."

" I want to be a friend"

" I'd like the opportunity to boff you and the other hot chick I found"

" I love you"

" I want to have sex with you but what do you mean I need to like you and take responsibily for my actions?"

Daphne, a raven haired beauty, has decided she wants to play with the device. After fighting Vixen, she runs into the other room with it. The following are her observations translating men's statements:

" I know where I'm going."

" I have no clue and I don't need a map or directions"

" Ilove you but can't tell them we are dating because I want to see my kid"

" I am whipped by my ex"

Finally, before more damage was done, I wrenched the machine out of my friends' hands. I ran outdoors, intending to destroy it before it threatened mankind. I was about to throw it against a jagged rock, but a man across the street stopped and called to say hello to me across the street.

"Nice tits" the machine said.

2005-08-14T11:43:00.000-04:00

Yeah--here's the shot in case--

ONLINE DATING TIPS

2005-08-13T17:42:00.000-04:00

Ok so the ex decided to run off with the belly dancer from Aruba and is no longer seen. So what is a late 30's girl to do? There are few places to meet the men who are serious, single and not really nuts from the last 2-(maybe 6 ex's) who are stalking them. (truthfully there are men in their late 20's I know trying to find nice ladies with the same problem in today's world where do they find available women, where its not a bar or meat (or is it meet) markets.) The word is out with the friends but since I am the one who has yet to stick more than 5 years with a guy they are hard pressed for at this round, most friends are married. Walmart and the local grocery are out having canceled their singles night. SO... I get to venture (the cute 20's guy at this post has been told and refuses to try this) in to the world of net dating and meeting on line. Now I teach my kids the safety of this so if I find a date hopefully, I follow my advice.

But in looking at some of the profiles and the rest there should be a few rules you teach your friends... PLEASE......

(Since I look at male profiles it goes for the guys, but most can be applied to females too)
Do's:
* Respond to all people who email you even if if it is a polite NO, not my type.
* be timely when people write you
* Put realistic expectations- out there- no intelligent,Swedish models if you are overweight and the intellegence of a limpet or the like. We are all human, there are some great people in imperfect packages.
* Put up a current picture of yourself- with in the last 6 month to a year.
* Be honest about who you are and what you can do.
* Have friends check what you worth to make sure it says what you want.
* Fill in all of your profile is you want others to look at you. If it is to much work to write a profile and answer questions I don't want you due to follow through.
* Be a gentleman on a date and treat us nicely.

DON'Ts:
*Put up a picture that is 5 years old when you looked great
* Put up up picture where you have cut out the former person of choice. The off- center framing is a bit of a give-away
* A posting of a guy and his favorite car is a little cheesy
* Stop looking and pull your profile when you are with a person you are "exclusively" dating
* Write in lots of sex needed or that sex the thing that you can not live without. Maybe you're trying to be cute, but most women will not think it is amusing or funny.
* Play octopus on the first date. Before most women want to be touched by you we want to know who you are and if we like you. Trust me, it's better that way.
*Waste my time if you are thinking there is someone better for you. A Dear Suzie email is kinder and cuts through the fluff.

Happy Furry Kitty Pics!

2005-08-11T19:44:00.000-04:00

Zombie Life Continued

2005-08-09T09:04:00.000-04:00

I thought I had returned from the dead. Unfortunately, my body had other plans for me.

Once again, I have achieved the state of zombiehood.

I'm in a yoga class with other zombies. Everybody else is rotting all around me, and limbs are falling off during hard twists. I'm intact, smell good, and am having no problems. My yoga instructor is always OK as well.

I ask her why there's a difference.

We're monists, Jules, mind and body are one--the soul is the body--they lost their souls and we didn't.

Hmm...is zombiehood a consequence of being a monist?

Any thoughts?

More tales of "the big city"

2005-08-08T22:13:00.000-04:00

Here's a story for you!

So I'm working in the wine shop today, dusting the beer racks (you wouldn't believe the dust in that place) when someone comes ambling up. He gets SO excited that we have beer in the middle of the market! He says he loves the beer with all the wheat in it, so I show him that we have some with extra sediment at the bottom. Suddenly, he looks over to one rack and gets disgusted.

"Indian Pale Ale? I don't want me no Indian beer!"

I'm quoting directly here.

It takes all my strength to explain that IPA is a brewing process type and the IPA he is pointing at was from Ohio. Apparently, the "Buckeye Brewing" label wasn't enough to convince him that it wasn't bottled in New Delhi, even if it was the '76 specialty brew, decked out in the American flag. Maybe he lost a job to outsourcing, because he bought a Belgian beer instead of the regional one JUST IN CASE.

I keep hearing about how much of the non-urban life around here is completely farming mentality, but seeing examples on a constant basis keeps unsettling me.

Uh, oh--serious again

2005-08-08T15:42:00.000-04:00

Dangerous Stories

2005-08-08T10:18:00.000-04:00

The Catholic church has started exorcism training again. If you’ve read my profile, you’ll notice that I try to admit to as absurdist a position as I can, but you’ll also notice that I mention that people create stories to describe the chaos of life and these stories can make them do various things—some lovely, and some horrible, such as the satanistic case in Europe in which several people were murdered by members of a satanic rock band. It was this case that inspired the Catholic church to start exorcism training again.

I may be a skeptic, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t believe in Headology, as defined by Terry Pratchett in his Discworld series. I’m a psychologist—of course I believe in that. If someone honest to God believes that they’re worshipping a dark force and that dark force wants them to kill I usually would say it’s time for psychiatric medication, but it could be conceivable that the practice of acting out an exorcism could convince said person they should reconsider their story and give them a tool to revise it. Then again—maybe we’re pandering to sickness and maybe making it worse. You have to be careful what stories you tell yourself, and be willing to revise them when evidence starts suggesting they’re wrong. The minute stories become more important than people, well—there are horrible consequences that can evolve.

What brought all of this up? Oh--I don't know--making the mistake of TUNING INTO WORLD AFFAIRS? Reading justifications of torture by the US? My own general crabbiness? An odd phase of the moon? I don't know, exactly--I'm really crabby and need to shake myself out of it for my own good.

So where is the funny entry? I don't know. I was going to ask you guys, actually--anybody who is out there--anybody have a good joke for me? Anybody?

Napkin Notes (need writing advice)

2005-08-04T14:12:00.000-04:00

This is what I have so far. I want to have a college gang hanging out there, living their lives during the third shift when it's usually just the regulars to interact with them. Anyone have any ideas on some templates for students / townies? I started writing this ages ago:

Scene: West End Diner, Allentown. The light is harshly bright except in the foyer on stage right. The entrance is stage right at the foyer, where there is an outdated video game and a video poker machine. The peach plastic booths, although not exactly clean, are free of rips and other effects of vandalism. The floor is green and is missing many tiles. The metal-rimmed counter stretches out behind the booths from the edge of the foyer stage right to the desert case and exit to the restroom stage left. Behind the counter is a door to the left of a window with a metal ledge, both of which lead to the kitchen.

Sheryl is the stereotypical diner waitress. To sum up, if she wasn’t working at this place, she could be a prison matron. She is medium height, thick-waisted and with a slightly sour expression. She is wearing a thin white sweater, black slacks, and white sneakers as an attempt at a uniform. Her grey, thin hair is tied back in a ponytail. She moves slowly, annoyed that she has to do her job when her coffee and crossword puzzle are waiting for her on the counter. She enters from the kitchen door with a full sugar shaker, begins filling shakers on tables from it. Talks to audience as she works.)

Sheryl: Let me explain a few things before the crowd starts showing up. Diners are everywhere. Schools are everywhere. Usually there’s a meeting of the two where you get the drunk frat brats squirting creamers and puking on the bathroom floor. This is one of them places, but they only get away with either one just once. Fortunately, there’s more to this place that keeps me going through ‘til the morning shift shows up and I get to go home to my dog.

(It would be at this point that the first of the other characters would walk in, but who will it be?)

Is it at all odd that...

2005-08-02T20:08:00.000-04:00

1) my cheap headset radio bled signals from the local top 40 station and the local hard rock station together and suddenly Natasha Bedingfield and Chris Cornell were duetting, and that I thought, Hey, they sound good together?
2) that my kitchen floor should be too hot to walk on barefoot?
3) that my oil painting has taken two months to dry?
4) that I actually fall asleep in front of the television, a thing I swore I would never do after spending my childhood being awoken every other weeknight at 11:30 by the Ironside theme blaring from my parents' room?
5) that any fool would attempt to live in central Ohio in August?
6) that any fool would attempt to live in central Ohio in August without air conditioning?
7) that any fool would attempt to begin blogging in central Ohio in August, when all sane people either sit in buildings with air conditioners, go swimming, or lie around panting?
8) that 8 people have already viewed my profile? (that last one might be just scary)
9) that I just admitted to the world that I'm writing a zombie movie set in Amish country? and, finally, that
10) that I just admitted to the world that I've been naked outdoors in a magical ritual, despite not being a great beauty or, indeed, a believer in magic?
Hey, I could come up with ten more, but is that what you want? Think about it.

My life as a zombie

2005-08-02T17:07:00.000-04:00

Congratulate me! I became a menace to society today. I am now one of the living dead.

Oh, I didn’t bother to go the direct route. You know the one we’re all familiar with: dying, getting sprinkled with lots of mystical powders, then being raised from the grave to make an appearance in movies that pay homage to George Romero. I don’t even remember the “dying part”—I just couldn’t sleep for forty eight hours although I skipped all medication and/or caffeine that I’ve used in the past that are supposed to help regulate my sleep cycle.

So far, my experience as a zombie hasn’t been what I expected. Despite all predictions, I’ve so far felt no desire to eat any brains. Luckily, my husband hasn’t noticed any rotting smells from my direction, and the makeup mirror isn’t reflecting anything too menacing, so I may be able to contribute to society despite myself.

As a social scientist, I feel it is my duty to chronicle my experience as a zombie. In the interest of enlarging knowledge of the subjective experience of zombiehood, here goes:

1.) Everything gets more surreal than usual: all those things you took for granted? Did you realize how incredibly weird they really were? For example, have you ever thought about how odd televisions were? They’re everywhere—they even have one in the building I teach in. Once you notice televisions, have you ever noticed how slackjawed watchers appear in front of the set? Doesn’t it make you wonder if I’m not the only zombie running around? What is the deal with commercials, anyway? We know they’re trying to sell us something and we have resistance to them, yet they’re ubiquitous. Imagine being an alien who picks up a television feed and sees a commercial. What is this alien supposed to deduce about modern human existence?

2.) You ever notice that in zombie films most zombies just seem to be bleating, whereas the mortal characters have deep thoughts? Lately, I’ve noticed it is the other way around.

3.) Is it my imagination, or is everything just really unbelievably funny? Why can’t I stop laughing hysterically?

4.) How do I stay upright?

Life is a trip

2005-07-31T09:42:00.000-04:00

When most people when they look at life, they look and complain that theirs is not very interesting. It's unfortunate, but they look at life as a slow or fast-paced place that can just be a daily grind. For example, it's a series of lists: you get up, eat, work, relax, interact and go get ready for the next day.

Most people often live lives of quiet desperation-(quote by some one. A life where we coast to get by and just exist and complain about how truly bad our lives are and what we would do if there was a chance. How many people are like the folks in Our Town when Emily goes back to her birthday and the people are just coasting along on autopilot. We make the motions of living but ignore the people or what is truly important to us.

Pretty sad, huh? Even worse happens when we don't know what matters. Often people focus on getting things done and miss the joys of living, or the taking time for what matters. Everyone knows how the person is thinking: the thought is I will do it tomorrow. Sadly, sometimes that day never comes.

I believe life was never designed to be spectator's sport. I am reminded of this as I watch my nephew play in water with me and my socks he threw in. There is so much fun and laughter that is often lost as we grow older. I went on a date in which amazing music was played, but my date acted as if nothing affected him. I wanted to move, to celebrate, to rejoice with the crowd by moving my body, but he made it clear that wasn't an option he'd take a chance with. So much fun was missed. I kept thinking to myself, how many other men would take a chance to dance on Celtic stage with me? Why would it be to embarassing? There were others, we wouldn't be alone, after all. Was he ashamed of me? Was he worried that someone he knew would tell others that he had fun and he'd get in troublep? I realized he wasn't a man I could enjoy life with. I'll be honest--I am not a good dancer, but I am willing to go and have fun and try out what life offers. People were invited to dance to a good band and whole lot of peole watched. Four little kids (under 8) went up along with 4 big kids (over 32). They were smiling while I was stuck in that silly little chair, noticing that my body was itching to move. The people dancing, however, were laughing and prancing and celebrating good music. That looked fun! (Thanks to the band who invited us up. It was fun just in the front and a little intimidating on stage, but worth the try.)

So many people refuse to actually live their lives. Instead, they complain. Unfortunately, over and over I hear "This place sucks" , "There's nothing to do", "I never do anything fun" .

I say this: look at life as an adventure and take a few safe risks and see where you end up. Particpate and really try to pay attention to the litte things, talk to someone new, give a smile, try a new route, walk and se what is different in the nieghborhood. The nuts and bolts of life have a lot to offer. The destinations of life are great, but it is the trip you make and where and if you choose to slow down and stop that matters.

The Ramblings of 3 hours of sleep

2005-07-30T13:52:00.000-04:00

Gee, maybe I should have woken up before trying this.. doubt there's enough caffeine in the world for that.

What do you do when you're walking in a sleep-deprived haze and those around you won't stop talking about hockey pucks about to go a-flying again? When I wake back up in about six months' time, maybe I'll remember what hockey is. Have I been enjoying the replacements? Suurre, I love watching people stuff food in their face at the rate of 3 pounds per minute, trying to convince their intestinal system that yes, this is really okay and you can take it.

Thank the black cat for depriving me of sleep.. one cannot sleep with one's kitty kneading one's face. That's a new one. She must be getting desperate for her cat treats if she's getting that bold. Sometimes I wish she'd follow the younger one's example.. all he does is meow oh so sweetly.

My Polish other half is calling me.. sigh....

Visitation

2005-07-30T12:07:00.000-04:00

I knew it! I knew I’d get in trouble by posting reasons for my skepticism. I’ve been hexed. I just read Bitch by Elizabeth Wurtzel, and now I'm officially haunted. This morning I was visited by my own oversimplified stereotype of a “bad girl”. Suddenly I envisioned Marlene Dietrich at by my bedside this morning, blowing cigarette smoke in my face. After wiping my eyes, I decided to ask her a question.

“Hey, what’s the deal with labeling women ‘good’ or ‘bad’ anyway? Most people are complex. Isn't using the label 'bad girl' encouraging oversimplification in the perception of women?”

"Face it, darling--there's freedom in using simple terms. There's incredible freedom in being labeled a 'bad girl'. It's easy to remember, too."

"So you're saying the simplicity of the term--and the freedom involved--makes everybody want to be a 'bad girl'? I always thought the only time the term 'bad girl' should be used is if you are housetraining a female puppy. You're saying that in reality every woman wants to be a bad girl?"

“Sure, sure—all of them want to be Bad Girls, Darling—until they get strung up on the stake and the torch is lit. It’s amazing how much being a social leper messes with your face.” My inner Dietrich declares, taking a drag off of her long cigarette encased in an onyx holder. All of my resolve for quitting smoking vanishes. Why is it even months or even years after I quit smoking, seeing classic movie stars smoking makes me wish I could still inhale? I turned to my inner Dietrich.

“Hey, could I bum one of those?”

“You quit.”

“Yeah, but it doesn’t mean I don’t miss them.”

“Forget it—I only share cigarettes with men.”

“Bitch.”

“Precisely.”

“Why can’t you be Rosalind Russel's character from His Girl Friday? I always liked her.”

”Ask your unconscious.”

“That’s the problem with my unconscious. I never know what it’s up to. Next time, however, I’m going to ask it to send somebody I can stand to talk to.”