second wish

Darfur

2006-04-03T17:22:00.000-07:00

I can't believe I've never heard of Darfur before today:

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/11199306/

Pure Nerd. Who Knew? Only Me.

2006-03-30T20:03:00.000-08:00

Pure Nerd
82 % Nerd, 30% Geek, 47% Dork

For The Record:

A Nerd is someone who is passionate about learning/being smart/academia.

A Geek is someone who is passionate about some particular area or subject, often an obscure or difficult one.

A Dork is someone who has difficulty with common social expectations/interactions.

You scored better than half in Nerd, earning you the title of: Pure Nerd.

The times, they are a-changing. It used to be that being exceptionally
smart led to being unpopular, which would ultimately lead to picking up
all of the traits and tendences associated with the "dork." No-longer.
Being smart isn't as socially crippling as it once was, and even more
so as you get older: eventually being a Pure Nerd will likely be
replaced with the following label: Purely Successful.

Congratulations!

Also, you might want to check out some of my other tests if you're interested in any of the following:

Buffy the Vampire Slayer

Professional Wrestling

Love & Sexuality

America/Politics

Thanks Again! -- THE NERD? GEEK? OR DORK? TEST

My test tracked 3 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender:

You scored higher than 95% on nerdiness
You scored higher than 38% on geekosity
You scored higher than 81% on dork points

Link: The Nerd? Geek? or Dork? Test written by donathos on Ok Cupid, home of the 32-Type Dating Test

eve

2006-03-13T18:44:00.000-08:00

trying not to post too many crappy poems, but alas. Anyway--I'm hoping to post more interesting things here sometimes! I just rarely have much time.

Meanwhile, another crappy poem. Sort of. I'm actually not done with this one, and I'm "stuck" on it. It's not saying what I want it to say. Ok, first, I'll put it here, and then explain what it's *supposed* to be about, and hopefully I can talk myself out of being stuck on this:

EVE

on your knees, you wept,
"what have you done?"
and my triumphant cry,
"i’d like to see you top that!"
and the snake, my friend, was right:

there are sweeter things still
than paradise
-----------------------------------

The idea is that this poem should be amusing. I've been playing with too many themes for it in my head, and it's very hard to get this working. One theme is power. Eve effected change in an otherwise changeless environment, and regardless of the price, became more powerful than Adam. But she's not above taunting him about it, which is where I want the humor to come in. I wanted a playful aspect--competition that maybe went too far. Adam does something (what?) and Eve retaliates by eating the forbidden fruit and getting them both kicked out of paradise. But, in her book (as far as my little "rewrite" of Genesis goes), that's an acceptable price for getting the last word.

See? Too many themes. Help would be appreciated, but maybe I'll work it out on my own. :)

Ciao.

body

2006-02-08T16:49:00.000-08:00

you can ignore it
if you listen to;
for example,
the creaking,
the shifting in seats—
the rustling
of an itchy pant leg—
a muffled cough
somewhere behind,

if you concentrate on;
for example,
the sun’s warmth
on your fingers
where it spills out
from the windows—
the candy wrapper
gone ignored—
the sharp elbow
from a careless neighbor,

if you look at;
for example,
the boy’s finger
up his nostril,
getting away with it
because his mom
has her head bowed
and can’t see him—
the littlest ones
don’t know not to smile;
they can’t see it:
the thing at the center,

if you don’t think about;
for example,
the body—
the body—
the body—

poem by me~

new idea

2006-01-11T06:46:00.000-08:00

So, I had a sort of idea for a sort of book I never finished (because it was being a thorn in my side instead of stimulating and inspiring me).

The idea is to make it into a blog-series. Much like a series of chapters in a book, but really closer to a series of episodes on television, only in text.

I haven't gotten very far, yet, but here's the start, if you feel like checking that out. It's sci-fi, so be wary!

http://originstory.blogspot.com

poem

2005-12-30T20:19:00.000-08:00

I'm always self-conscious about posting poems, because I don't find them easy to write, inspiration comes slowly, and often it's gone before the thing is really how I want it to be anyway. So, what I usually end up presenting as a finished product is really not, in fact, finished. More like chipped a bit and half-sanded down, actually.

If that.

Anyway, that being said: here is my newest poem. (I didn't title it, sorry.)

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

one day i woke up
in the wrong universe
forever changed
in a confused world
without you in it.
i saw your pain
and the quiet way you left—
but it wasn’t real—
it’s from some nightmare
some terrible make-believe
that i can’t escape.
in real life
you’re still home
and i’ll see you later
and you never really left us at all

and sometimes
your shadow is still here
flickering in my brain
like a shorted light
a burst of bright life—
and then nothing.

2005-12-09T20:34:00.000-08:00

How the hell do most writers find direction?

I've started and re-started the same book fifteen times now (not kidding). I know the story, the characters, and the world they live in. Why can't I write it without rethinking who goes where with whom, who ends up how, and how exactly do they beat the bad guy at the end (and do they?).

Why do I second-guess my original decisions everytime I write Chapter One?

How can I make a decision about the plot and stick to it long enough to finish the damn thing so I can say (when I do finally change my mind) "Well, hell, it's done now!"

*grouch*

2005-12-06T06:46:00.000-08:00

Nine degrees for a high today.

I walked to work in minus five.

I am the *real* Ice Cube!

Brr...

2005-11-16T18:55:00.000-08:00

I think I'd rather swim through an Olympic-sized swimming pool full of ice water than go outside before March.

*shiver*

2005-10-24T20:14:00.000-07:00

I'm not sure what to make of this:

http://www.livescience.com/humanbiology/050411_aubrey_interview.html

I mean, if you could live for a thousand years, would you want to? I'm not at a point where I could possibly know yet -- but isn't there a point when it just gets boring?

If the average human life expectancy was a thousand years, and age therapy was covered by your employer's insurance company...

When do you get to retire?

Would interest rates on bonds and savings accounts go lower? (I mean, if you lived forever, you'd eventually be filthy rich, right?)

Anyway.

where does time go when it's gone?

2005-10-12T19:18:00.000-07:00

Waking up early and working until five, only to get home to a mountain of laundry/cleaning to do doesn't leave much room for the better things in life, does it?

What I really want to do with my life is A) find lots of time for my honey, B) get in shape, or at least some shape other than round, C) most definitely find some time to work on my fantasy novel (which was progressing quite well until I moved), D) discover a way to eat all the sweets I want without actually EATING it and thus gaining weight, and E) become independently wealthy so that at least A-C would be possible.

However, I really do like my job. It gets slow and boring sometimes when the correspondence volume is low, but there's an unbelievable niceness that comes with doing the things that you want to do with your career and getting experience in a field that would otherwise be nearly out of the question for me.

Also, working at a Federal Reserve Bank has many nice benefits that other places simply wouldn't have. The job security is quite nice, as is the ability to move around within the bank should the need or desire arise.

I've volunteered next month for some overtime--yeah, that's more time down the drain, but I'm hoping it will help out with the small things in the long run. If I manage to save enough, I can nix some stress that comes with fitting all those mean little bills into a paycheck and still hoping for leftovers to stash away. I should get about $400 extra per month doing that, and for three months that'll add up to a nice chunk of change to put away for bad times.

Allergies really blow. They totally cleared up on the farm, which leads me to believe that it's something about cities and downtowns that does it.

Ok, got to go. Waking up early for my first-ever use of the Fed's on-site fitness facility! (Maybe I should practice yawning in advance...)

2005-09-29T15:48:00.000-07:00

So, I'm having disturbing dreams. The oddest one was the night before last, when I dreamed that I was on the farm in Rush City, and there was an earthquake (followed by a really weird mudslide). Amy (my sister) was with me, and the running away from the mud led to this wide river that was fairly shallow where we found it. It was clear and green, and I could see the riverbed. Even though there was mud everywhere around the river, there wasn't any in it, and I wasn't scared at all (at any time during the dream), and Amy and I waded somewhere and I woke up.

Then, last night I dreamed that there was some sort of official meeting, which took place in a different river. This one was filthy, deep, and had a divider that ran down the center. I was at this meeting with Tommie, and I think Carl might have been there too. I remember some sort of button or symbol that had to do with cigarettes, and some mysterious guy came up behind me and tried to drown me. Tommie chased him off before he got my head underwater, and then freaked out saying things like "oh my god, we would never have known what had happened to you!" And then she said that she would keep a close watch for him in case he returned. Then, he did return, and this time he got my head underwater, but no one helped me. I ended up waking up out of breath, like I'd been holding it for real. Very odd, very disturbing.

What I read on the internet about water dreams doesn't make too much sense. First of all, it says that water dreams are about good/bad omens. Clear water is a sign of extreme good luck, while muddy water is a portent of illness. But I don't know about that stuff. I think the most dreams can really do is tell you how you subconsciously feel. This belief doesn't help me at all either.

And, off topic: Has anyone else been getting random, stupid comments from bots that are promoting some strange site, pretending to be interested commentators? This has happened to me four times now, and it's getting frustrating to have to delete them all. If you have any ideas on how to ditch the bots, lemme know please!

nothing but working...

2005-09-26T20:05:00.000-07:00

And no, I don't mean at my job!

I mean I still haven't finished unpacking this place, and from 5-10 p.m. every night I have to squeeze regular cleaning, some laundry (weekdays are best here), and some unpacking...so now I'm really, really tired. All the way down to my bones.

I got some clothes put away today, but I ran out of hangers. Damn those things! I bought about 50 of them, and I still have a bag and a half of clothes to go through.

Been itching to play my Sims, too. I had to delete all of my old ones, because I had some sort of problem and my game would just lock up. Chalked it up to too many downloads, erased all, and economized.

Sigh. Well, Nightlife is very cool (the new expansion pack). I sent a new Simmie, Aaron, out on a few dates yesterday afternoon. He did ok, but then I tried hard for his sake. If I get to play again soon, I think perhaps I'll start building some nice hangouts, now that Sims are a little better at hanging out out of the house.

Well...ciao!

zzzzzzzzzzz....

2005-09-19T18:13:00.000-07:00

Moving is hard work. You'd think if you didn't own much furniture and had to buy it and have it delivered that it would be easier, too. Well, it's not. -_-

I love living downtown. It took all of five minutes to walk to work this morning <3 <3

The bad part is grocery shopping. IT'S NOT EASY. It ends up coming down to three options:
1) Pay extremely high prices at a store you can walk to.
2) Choose a semi-close store with no selection worth speaking of.
3) Wait until Saturday for all your groceries so that you can have them delivered.
4) Leave downtown.

Yes, yes. I'm aware of my counting deficiencies.

Meanwhile, my apartment is a MESS. There's still packed stuff everywhere, a bookshelf I need to assemble, on top of daily cleaning.

*zonk*

life does get better!

2005-09-10T07:28:00.000-07:00

Life update:
I have landed a great job in downtown Minneapolis! The good news for other English graduates is that you can get a job doing what you want to do with your degree. My job is basically to sift through hundreds of e-mails and letters that go out of the office everyday and make sure they all follow a consistent style and have no grammar mistakes. Part of it is also making sure the tone is clear and brisk, but friendly. Yesterday, I got to do some real work for the first time since starting!

I move into my new apartment next Saturday <3 <3

Meanwhile, I'm trying to find out if it's possible to get certain days around Christmas for vacation time because even the best of news can't make me forget how much I miss my family.

I took a stress-rating quiz and was off the charts...I don't guess that's any good. Unavoidable, though, since the biggest questions on there were things like: "Has a close family member passed away?" "Have you made any big moves recently?" "Have you begun/lost a job recently?"

When I graduated high school, I was sort of stuck sitting in the back waiting a long time because my last name started with a W. So, while waiting, I developed a really weird headache which culminated in my puking my guts out about three hours later. At the time, my mom chalked it up to nerves and stress. Needless to say, I found out on Tuesday that her diagnosis was indeed an accurate one. Apparently, acute nervousness has this effect on me. Solution: AVOID.

and three months later...

2005-08-12T14:10:00.000-07:00

Sorry about that previous post. I wasn't doing too well then.

But enough about that. I'm now posting from Minnesota, and I've been here for almost three months now! I'm looking for a job here, have been looking... twice I've heard things like "gee, we only put a one-day ad in the paper, and we got such an overwhelming response!" from interviewers. So, I guess I shouldn't feel too bad.

As for creative writing, I've actually done some, believe it or not! I'm currently working on Chapter Three of a fantasy novel I've titled (just temporarily) The Castle of Ashtar Kings.

Here's the link to Chapter One. I'll put Chapter Two up sometime, too. Note it's a download in .doc format.

http://www.geocities.com/qsrnrwn/Chapter1.doc

swiss cheese soul

2005-04-27T01:51:00.000-07:00

I never used to be a hypochondriac. A little. I'd go to the doctor for small things, but I'd never obsess about small imperfections, get anxious over symptoms and wonder if it all boils down to a brain tumor. I want to say a little psychosis is ok when a parent has died. BUT IT IS NOT OK.

It's so bad that I discovered that my right eyelid is droopy. It constantly droops 1/8 of an inch more than my left eyelid. Panicked, sure it was a sign of some terminal brain disease, I dug up old photos. Only to discover I've ALWAYS had a droopy right eyelid...possibly my entire life, it's really hard to tell in pictures where I'm younger than 5, since my eyelids hardly show up in all the baby fat. I found pictures of my dad and see that he, too, had a droopy right eyelid, approximately the same amount of droop that I have. My dad was 63 when he passed away (last wednesday). I'm 23. I just now noticed this. So, clearly, the severe hypochondria is quite recent. The only thing keeping me from panicking much about the eyelid is that my dad lived to 63 and died of a stroke -- not of anything that could have had anything to do with droopy eyelid. It's stupid that I want to panic.

The other thing keeping me from falling apart is Elavil. Without it, I'd probably be a blubbering ball of nerves and frantic worry. Can tension headaches constrict the skull? I'm going to be the only case of death by spontaneous collapse of skull.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if it weren't for the bad sinusitis. Maybe if I didn't keep hearing and feeling what I swear is bones in my skull shifting, if I wasn't convinced that the roof of my mouth was ever so slightly trying to cleft, if I could sleep at night instead of feeling the dull constant ache of every sinus in my head, just maybe then I could deal with grief better. I just can't do it right now. I loved my dad like you love your right arm, your index fingers, your thumbs, your legs. Him gone is a hole in my soul, so deep and wide, maybe lots of holes, because he certainly wasn't confined to just one part of my life. My parents gave me the childhood people dream of for themselves. The kind you think to yourself later in life that you'd like to find a time machine and be three years old again...run the whole course a second time. Not to change anything, just to be there again, getting unconditional love from both biological parents, being both the youngest and honorary only child (as my siblings were all 12+ when I was born), having a mother who instead of grounding you for 10 years when she caught you in a bad position insist on putting you on the pill, and having a father who accepted you for who you are no matter what you did, no matter how bad you disappointed him, a father who insisted you were never a burden, a father without whom I have a sad swiss cheese soul.

Games

2005-03-13T22:11:00.000-08:00

A brand new poem of mine...inspired by who knows what and it's kind of wicked. I like it though, needs revising. :) Criticism welcome, as always.

Games

Bishop to I-9
The gamepiece scratches across the wooden playing field
As I plot to bring you down
And I’ll check this round
You shouldn’t fold just yet,
My eyes are telling you I have a Queen high
You have two pair
So easy to read your hand in your eyes
Fun to watch you squirm
Now I’ll raise you $50
I’ll take you for every penny you got
Because I already know where your battleship is
But it’s no fun if you know
The greatest challenge of all
Is keeping the victory out of my eyes.

I win.

Star Faeries (poem)

2005-02-23T14:27:00.000-08:00

I wrote this some time ago, and recently (while packing my stuff and sorting for give-aways) came across this poem, which -- while it's by no means very meaningful -- I think has quite a lot of potential.

Star Faeries
I have seen the lucky ones,
who frollick like the forest fae
when twilight touches sky,
when sparkle-stars wink silver.
one by one, they dive
streaming sparkle-stardust
from their toetips.
they unfurl their arms
and laugh,
a tinkling, crystal song --
vanishing.
And only the moonbeam knows
if they were there at all --

goings on

2005-02-15T10:57:00.000-08:00

I know, I know. I promised creative writing! Well! I'm shy and don't want to share the very small amount of character plotting I've done. My current project is a fantasy novel...I won't say more than that it involves magic, high adventure, etc, etc. However, I've learned I get stuck on male personalities, and I've only just recently worked out some of the bugs in a main male role. Therefore...um...as usual I have no stories to share yet.

When people used to ask me what I wanted to do for a living, I naively answered that I wanted to write. Of course. Who doesn't want to do what they love and get food and shelter doing it? When I realized that getting a career in creative writing is kind of like finding a diamond in a bag of m&ms, I started saying I wanted to edit creative writing. That's still close to what I love, right? That's realistic, isn't it?

And now I'm unemployed, divorced, with an English degree that's about as useful as subway sandwich wrap. :P Good luck to me. But if asked what I really wanted to do...it sounds so incredibly stupid and naive...I'd say (or at least think REALLY loudly) that what would really fulfill me is to promote understanding between people. Maybe by that I mean listening. I've heard conversations and been a part of them and it's easy to tell (at least I think so) when two people are talking about two different things and neither are remotely aware of it. It boggles the mind how there can be billions of us living on one clump of dirt and we're still isolated from each other. Maybe I should have taken 15 languages and become a mediator. Or a counselor. One of the methods of understanding other people is understanding yourself. How does one go about that, anyway? *shrugsigh*

quick first post

2004-08-10T18:08:00.000-07:00

Just creating a new account for my blog --
old username contained a last name that is no longer mine

Either way, this is the new home of all my creative writing updates and such, and the account I'll run some spin-off blogs from.

Update: I've put my sci-fi novel on hold again because I had this really intense idea for a fantasy novel. I don't have anything postable yet, since it's just an unfinished handwritten plotline for now, but it'll be up when I can manage it. :)

My life:
Divorce is final, all that's done, completed, finito.
Temp job come and gone (at least, it will be gone this Friday)