“Love is what we were born with. Fear is what we learned here.”

I almost had one of my panic attacks on the trolley.

I seem to have two types of panic attacks. There is one where I get very nauseous, short of breath, and get this claustrophobic feeling. Then there is the one that is triggered by violence, especially when men are involved. That one is just...pure panic. An uncontrollable urge to cry, flee and hide.

Well, I'm coming home tonight from school and the loud, high-as-a-kite kid across from me starts talking in an overly loud voice, exclaiming about how all guys in the Navy are gay. And that's just the start of his little bashing session.

Some guy behind me decided to take umbrage, either because he was himself gay...or in the Navy...or both..or maybe just took a dislike to that kid. Suddenly there is much loud yelling and jumping around and potential beatings about to happen right next to me.

And yes, I feel myself start to go into a panic. I tell ya...took some strong will power not to run off the trolley freaking out. I did cry though, albeit quietly.

I have many theories as to why violent men make me freak out...many having to do with my father and a few biased stories told by some relatives of my infant-hood. But I have no memories of such, and a strong love for my father (maybe the same kind of love a woman has for the husband who slaps her around?)...thus it remains theories until he decides to tell me otherwise. And since he's not speaking to me any longer...

Yay! Half-Nekkid Sunday ;)

Saying Goodbyes

We're seriously thinking of moving out of San Diego...which is kind of funny since we worked so hard to come back here after the Hubby got out of the Air Force. Being away, there were places I missed here, but coming back, I find it was the memories created in such places I missed more.

I know there will be places I miss again (mostly eating establishments!), but I find I am more than ready for new experiences and new adventures.

And ready to get ahead in life instead of just breaking even! The cost of living here is insane. Maybe it's true what my pessimistic side says...that no matter where we live, the cost of living will always outmatch the income. Yeah, maybe I am fooling myself...but all I want to have is a nice house to live in while in a good neighborhood, weather that doesn't make me want to kill myself 80% of the year, to be able to afford groceries every month, and maybe some left over for art supplies? Is that too much to ask?!!

But I digress. The purpose of this post was a thought I had to go out and take pictures of San Diego for the rest of the year, each with a purpose of saying goodbye...and that thought chained itself- what if we took every picture with that thought...would they be more meaningful? What if we lived every moment with that thought? Would it make life be more precious? Or would it just be a terrible sadness to bear all the time?

Well, I can't answer my own question. But I can start with pictures of San Diego and work from there.

"Into every life some rain must fall. Usually when your car windows are down."

Well, the Hubby is gone for a week on a business trip. I hate when people leave me. I hate knowing he's flying on a plane. Planes are scary.

It feels weird having to go through the motions of life while he's not here- getting myself to school and around. Having no one to talk about my day with. I feel like I should be on pause til he gets back. It's scary only having myself to depend on.

In my head I know the roommates are still here, but we have such odd hours right now, its like I'm alone.

It's the important questions in life that boggle my mind.

This lady, Lee Redmond, has been newly updated in the Guiness Book of World Records (`06) as the person with the longest fingernails. As I look at these pics, many questions come to mind- How does she live her life with those things? Brushing her hair, eating, driving, typing...I could go on for hours thinking of things it would be difficult to do..

But...

The most burning question of all though, the one I really want answered...











How does she wipe her ass?!?!

Cultural Anthropology makes my brain tingle.

So I was reading about ethics and research and it got me thinking about the Nazis.

What happens when valid results are produced from not so ethical means? Are the results the Nazis came up with discounted and shelved because of the horrible ways they got them or have they been used in the hope that
something good come out of it?

And what if it's something not so evil but still tainted? Some of Chagnon's research on Brazilian indians came into question because of the mercenary means with which he came up with some of it (bribes such as machetes). Kenneth Good, Chagnon's assistant, had his objectivity question because of his romantic involvement with one of the Yanomamö women. So, if that were taken as truth, what would happen with the results of their years of research that wasn't "tainted". Is it still something that should be used even though the methods and circumstances are in question? By using it, does that condone the less-than-ethical methods used to gain them? And by still using it, does that send a message to other scientists that the results are more important than the method used to get them?

Also...

Do scientists, especially those on longitudinal research, affect the development of the societies they are studying? From what I am reading (and I don't agree with this idea which is why i got a question wrong in the true/false part of this weeks quiz :P) it seems that yes, if they need to direct a society towards one of their own values, they can do what they can to make it come true. So is this studying a society or molding one?

Deep thoughts by Jenn Handy ><

Two roads diverged in a yellowed wood...

I get bored and surf myspace. Yeah it's a complete brain-drain but meh, it's something to do other than what I'm supposed to be doing (like homework).

I always start with my friends. I see if they've posted any new pics or made any comments on their blogs to my comments. Then start with their friends..and kind of network out from there.

The problem is, once in awhile I find someone really cool that I don't know. I like their style or what they say...and I want to send an email and say something but I always just feel so awkward. Like some creepy dork. I agonize about it for a little bit...should I say something? Shouldn't I? If I did how do I come across as sincere and not a total idiot? And 99.9% of the time I just don't say anything.

And I often wonder what I am losing out on by not saying anything.

I'll Huff and I'll Puff...

My house is falling apart. But, in an effort to look on the brighter side, I'll try to see something positive about what is going on.

Problem: My shower has no water pressure.
Silver Lining: I'm saving money on the water bill! And having to use my creative capabilities to come up with solutions for a shorter, faster shower time.

Problem: My bathroom sink has no water at all.
Silver Lining: The cats have a nice cool, dry place to sleep in summer.

Problem: We have a major termite infestation.
Silver Lining: Uhm...we're providing an ecosystem for the natives? And snacks for the cats on occasion.

Problem: Our garage door likes to fall off the track once in awhile.
Silver Lining: Keeps the awareness-of-our-surroundings skill up trying to remember to watch when we close the garage to make sure it closed all the way.

Problem: When we turn the sprinklers on, we have a pool in the front left corner of the front yard.
Silver Lining: The feral cats always have fresh water.

Half-Nekkid Sunday?

O.k., I know it's supposed to be Half-Nekkid Thursday, but I'm busy on Thursdays. I wake up, go to school, come home and and watch a little tv and go to sleep. So, in the spirit of HNT...I'm creating HNS!

I like my feet. Sometimes they swell up if I laze at the computer too long, and they get a lot of abuse from the kittens, but they're the girliest part of me...ya know..besides the girly bits. I don't do make-up, my hair is annoying, and I can't really do nails (art and typing are hell on nailpolish), so instead I pamper and accessorize my feet.

Yes, yes I did just make this up.

The second day of school...

...cuz who writes about the first day? The first day is buying books and getting info and doing lame introductions and listening to the teachers spout out the same goddamn school policies info and getting syllabi (syllabuses?) and finding places to put pieces of paper that are handed out you'll never look at again.

So the second day of school was fun. I squeezed every ounce of creativity residing in my brain out today. For the first three hours I played with Styrofoam. Yes..I just said Styrofoam. Our first assignment in 3D design is to make a sculpture using Styrofoam (which I am) or mat/poster board (which I'm not). It has to be a whole closed shape, geometric or amorphous, linked together. I think the whole class just worked on maquette's (small sculptures that are mini's of what we will be making full-sized later). Mine's pretty boring I think. We'll see.

My second class is painting 1...and I chose to do acrylics (oils was the other choice). I definitely learned today that I have a LOT to learn. Holy crap do I suck right now. It felt like I was at kindergarten level. And man...do I really need to work on my ellipses. I think I'll practice a few pages a day for awhile and see if that helps. Acrylics is fun and easier to clean up but you have to be a quick "draw" (..and I'm totally NOT) because it dries very fast. Of course, any corrections can be painted over.

Hopefully tomorrow I'll get my new HD and can start on my online Math and Anthro classes.

Myspace is da debil!

Myspace is evil.

I'm intent on draging my self out of the entrenching mire that is the past...and myspace pulls me back in. I have found so many lost friends- all people I'd never meet up if there was a reunion because I'd be ashamed.

And the worst part is I'm ashamed that I'm ashamed.

Hope is a 20-sided die.

"The very least you can do in your life is to figure out what you hope for. And the most you can do is live inside that hope. Not admire it from a distance but live right in it, under its roof." -Barbara Kingsolver

I think I lost hope a long time ago. The kind of hope where you always think life will get better. Someday, at least one of the many dreams of youth will come true. I don't expect things to be handed to me...but it's like the possibilities, the windows to see the path to the goal, were all broken and boarded up before I even got there.

And yet, I still plug away at this craptageous game called "Life" so maybe there is still an optimist alive in me. Or maybe it's that I finally have a tiny teeny idea of who I might be, what I might want, and where I might need to go...like I've found the highway instead of just a path. Or maybe, in every day that passes, I sense my own mortality looming over me and feel the desire to pick something, anything, before it catches up and overwhelms me.

So maybe I'm not sure what I hope for..but I am finally living in it's shadow and ready to step on in.

Avalanche

/Whine on

I think I've got too much on my plate.

1.) I have a zoo. 3 cats that are starting to stress out at the kitties occupying the front yard and the kitties that have taken over the patio. And soon we're bringing three of those kittens (who have, by the way, taken to dry food very well but haven't yet figured out not to pee on the couch)...anyway, we're bringing three of those kittens inside soon. That will be interesting. And I have a bearded dragon who only eats sometimes. She needs more attention than I have to give her ... well, truth be told, all the pets need more attention than I have to give them. And if I am lucky, I get to spend another I-don't-know-how-much-but-it-will-prolly-be-a-lot amount of money having a custom built cage for her. Assuming she doesn't die from the "not eating" situation.

2.) My house is a dumpster and only gets worse everyday. OK, yes this is most likely half my fault. I'm a messy and lazy person. Not the best combination. And no matter how much I have to do I keep putting it off. Yes, with my lists, I am starting to work on it but there are just some things that I can't handle right away...like getting rid of about 4 couches and 3 chairs. That takes money that I don't have extra right now to rent the trucks to take it away. And to add to that I have two roommates who are happy to make the mess but rarely help cleaning up. The messier it gets the less I want to deal with it.

3.) I am so poor right now. Like silly poor. I owe my mother/landlord almost 4k right now in back rent and the money we borrowed for the car. I had to beg her for school money and now I have to beg her for money for books. The payments I can make to our almost maxed credit cards is getting smaller while the minimum payments are getting larger. We have zero savings. God forbid something happens to one of us. And I owe my roommate money. I hate owing people money.

4.) I am slacking in my art. I am supposed to draw everyday. The only way to improve is to draw everyday. I'm lucky if I get to it twice a week. And with my art classes coming up in school I'm gonna be the sucky person in class. I hate being the suckiest person in class. And speaking of school...

5.) School starts soon. I am going full time with two online classes. I've never done online classes before so there's the stress of doing something out of my element. Then I'll have two art classes which is extra money for art supplies, the stress of comparing myself to others and falling far short, having no time to myself because doing art takes a lot of time and I won't have that time for my own projects.

That's about it right now but I still think that's too many dishes. It's all falling off my plate and starting to dribble on my floor. And I'm out of napkins dammit.

/Whine off

Self Improvement

"Lord, make me an instrument of thy peace. Where there is hatred, let me sow Love. Where there is injury, Pardon. Where there is error, Truth. Where there is discord, Harmony. Where there is doubt, Faith. Where there is dispair, Hope. Where there is darkness, Light. Where there is sorrow, Joy." -St. Francis of Assisi

I think I have found the key to my salvation ... lists. Yes, lists! I don't know if getting older makes me forgetful, or maybe I have some kind of pre-Alzheimer condition, or my unconscious mind is leaning towards the laziness my body insists upon therefor I "conveniently" forget to do things, but, I find if I make lists I feel less stressed. Part of that stress is trying to remember everything that needs to be done, thought about, taken care of, emailed, put away, cleaned, bought, replaced, etc and worrying that I've forgotten something that I'll remember at an innapropriate time (like..to buy toilet paper when I am out after I am already sitting on the throne doing my business.) And part of that stress is knowing I forgot something but can't remember no matter how hard I try.

So now I have a notebook just for my lists- lists of chores by most important and broken down room by room, lists of potential art projects and pictures I want to do, lists of things to do to take care of me, lists of people to email or call, lists of things I keep meaning to buy but never remember until I need them. And I feel so much better. Maybe I won't get them all done, but these lists helps me free up some mental chi so I can work on the things that make me the better person St. Francis hopes I will be.

Sadness, Part 1

I haven't really wanted to talk about it...

Cricket passed over the rainbow bridge on July 29th, around 7pm, to the tune of Hotel California.

And, funny enough, her passing seems to have fueled my creative mind. Maybe because I've always tied misery to my creative process ever since needing an escape from my mother's abusive mouth. Poetry then. Art now. And writing..always writing and dreaming and making stories in my head that will probably never get written down now.

And my computer, as of last night, has decided to commit Seppuku. So, I write this on my hubby's comp and spend my other time plowing through the piles of stuff that always seem to accumulate around me...kind of like Pigpen from Peanuts, only the dirt is more solid in the form of books, old mail, snacks, and just mounds of stuff. But back to my computer... omg! Months and months of saved pics, both inspirational and planned acquisitions for potential art. Art I was working on! Tons of recipes that were emailed to me that I saved and hoped to make someday, emails now long gone. At least $100 worth of iTunes videos and music. Notes for story ideas!!! And tons of bookmarks I'll prolly never find again. NOTHING backed up. I want to weep. But I hold it in in the faint hope that I will be able to recover it. But...

"Hope for the best, plan for the worst."

...and the Lord said, OMFG WTF!

So...

Instead of a "Happy Birthday" yesterday I had a "... Birthday!" (thanks D).

Crickets at the vet, overnight. It's going to cost us $600... just to find out what's wrong with her.

If I ever needed proof that there is indeed a god, this is it. And she hates me.

They say it's your birthday...na na na na na NA NA!

Ack I'm old.

I was originally going to write about how hot I am and how I hate this heat and its fricken Africa hot...and, upon looking at the date I realized it's my birthday.

Big whoop. It's funny how this is one of the big days when you're a little kid and just another year when you're old..old old OLD.

I took a walk around my neighborhood last night... and my hip hurt! WTF.

I told D he's got to walk me around outside now every day as if I was a dog. Bah.

...And Time Marches On.

I'm worried about Cricket.

She's been hiding upstairs the last few days. Maybe she's freaked by my brother staying over. When we normally have company she hides upstairs. Been she's never hid from my brother for long...usually comes downstairs after a few hours. Maybe she's hot and just likes the coolness of the shower floor. Maybe she's having one of her "crazy episodes" and just wants to be alone.

But I'm not sure she's eating. I check her skin and it seems the normal healthy color. I brought her up some food and water but she didn't touch the food and drank the water like she's been in the desert for a week.

Now she's hiding under the bed.

I dunno. D says maybe we have to "put her down". She is getting pretty old for a cat. 13 this year? I don't want to think about it right now.

If she doesn't start acting normal after my brother leaves then I'll take her to the vet. I hope she's not sick as I really have no money left to do anything about it...especially after paying for Hobbes's last visit.

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