whoa...so long?

Sorry it's been a while, I've been having computer hook up problems. Balanced with the lack of fundage, I haven't had the time to hook up with my Internet addiction for a while. And the screen I'm on right now is on "Safe Mode", therefore every thing I see is friggin' huge.
I DID go see the "Guardian". It stayed on the island for three weeks, fueled by the Coasties, I figure. There was one shot of the Commisary, and the coastline shots were Kodiak, everything else wasn't. Costner's house on the water? Not happening here,thank you. If you're on the water you're ON the water, in a boat. His house reminded me of a spot in the Chesapeake Bay area. We have cliffs and beaches...no personal docks except for the folks on the lakes where the float planes land. Other than that, it wasn't a bad movie.

My movie going friend moved to Fairbanks last month, and the other one has days off that don't coincide with mine. My uncle was asking me when I was starting to look for another job again. I forgot that I was looking for a while. I like the store, getting stuff for people, and finding stuff to sell them is kinda fun. *sigh* I still want to animate, or at least illustrate semi-professionally.
I got a kick last night when L. asked me if I'd like to slap some art on the coffeshop walls in May when he and Rob have their show in May. I've only got maybe two pics finished in the past 4 years...maybe this will light a fire under my butt to finish the other 3 I've been sitting on.

tired already

Well, it's R's birthday in a couple of days. His folks have a dinner, and this year I'm actually invited. Man, I miss Sonya. I think we all do. If we didn't think Ben was a halfway decent guy, I think he would have been fish food for taking her away from the island.

Pat's off on the Nelson River, growing up.

Sorry about the random thoughts. I've had problems focusing, lately.

slow days

It really is a sad time to know that the only reason I was excited to sell a box of condoms at the store was because it meant I could order new ones. I barely even cared what the guy looked like

(okay, he wasn't bad, but I wouldn't recognize him in a crowd of two).

I was just glad they went out before they expired.

'net walking

Aaah. I get a little time now to be on the 'net once more. It's just for a couple of days. I'm speading myself too thin on my house-sitting jobs...And there's no fukkin' sun out here!
We had two and a half weeks of summer sun...last month. It hasn't stopped raining since.
Que vida loca on the island. Heh heh heh, we tricked the new coasties at crabfest! *singing* They thought they'd get sun.

Warning: Foul language filters are off!

MwaHaHAHa! My plan on this island is starting to work.

I made a point of befriending some of the biggest motherfuckers on this island. cops, fishermen, bouncers. It paid off last night when I went bar-hopping with my cousin and a couple of friends.

There was this newbie on the island, skinny dude with a reverse goatee (grew the beard and shaved the middle), who kept ordering "loudmouths" and was becoming increasingly so. He kept trying to hump the bar and hollered about getting nekkid. Called himself "Kevin Starfish" (that's okay, I told him some bogus name for me too.) (That guy know my real name? Ewww)

He kept trying to hug me, not hump me thank God, but he was still in control enough not to touch me anywhere that would get him decked. Me? I threw up my detatchment sheild, and basically tuned him out. Through all his bull shit I heard "I'm getting drunk If I get laid, I get laid. If not, I'll be too fucking drunk to care" Everybody else didn't hear that. They heard "WHOOHOO! Starfish wants some ass!"

Repeatedly.

Finally, my cousin and L. caught my little "HELP!" that I gave them and moved in. L. is an ex-bouncer from another bar, and my cousin would have just decked the guy given half a chance. L. wouldn't let her. L. was all looking at me going "are you sure you're okay?" The Starfish was an ass, but he wasn't grabbing mine, so I wouldn't let L. deck him either. But my cousin and I did get a chance to move further away. I stayed near enough, but any familiar face that tried to go past us, I kinda pulled in. M was trying to enjoy her beer, L. was smoking a cigarette to keep from hitting the guy, and I was stacking the decks. Finally the jerk left, diverted(?) by one of the guys that I had grabbed. (The other guy soon left starfish on some unsuspecting bartender, anyway)

Later, at the third bar, I had to leave before the rest. The DJ was playing some shitty hip hop, and it was getting too loud anyway. the moment I stepped out of the bar, Who do I see but Starfish, making a b-line for the bar. I turned to go back in, but found S. standing by the parking lot. Hmm. S. is...a big man. Kinda like I'd think a viking would have been. Blonde, blue-eyed, 6'4 at the least, and all muscle. I walked/ran up to him and asked if I could borrow him before ducking under his arm.

Starfish didn't stay long.

I kinda feel like a schmuck though. I had to hide instead of telling the idiot to leave me alone.

And Mel, this S. is a different one from the one I told you about. Same name, different person. I talk about 3 of them, all different.

I wrote my own version of another's essay.

Service before self- this comes when a person believes in a concept so much that his love of life becomes secondary. Otherwise known as martyrdom. Idealized by many, practiced by few, the "service before self" mind-set is put on a pedestal because the reality of it is that it is one of the most difficult things to do consistently.
Person after person has come to face the realization that they could live longer- and possibly happier- lives, if they had eased up on their "service". Jesus Christ even had to deal with that choice in the Garden of Gethsemane.
Life held so much for that man. He could have stood up and walked away from it all, prophesies be damned. And lived in personal shame for the rest of his life.
More often than not, man can bypass the love of self for service at short intervals. Kurt was an undersheriff in Newton. He quit the force, yet came back to it. He put service before self one night last April and walked into a hostage situation. He was killed, because for a brief moment, self was secondary.

When service before self happens, heroes are born. Some even survive. A. is a rescue diver. He was the last to get out of the water when a boat sank one November. It was a media circus. The guys did their job, what they were trained to do, but you can't say that he and his companions weren't seriously reconsidering their choice of service before self with the waves beating the helicopter in the middle of the night.

stupid blog format

I'm not getting the spacing I wanted, but at least it's not screaming every time I hit Enter.


Seeing you there
My heart didn't tumble,
My words didn't stumble.

Habit held you close to me
It only hurt a little, from
my side.

So, your eyes teary,
And your heart torn,

You said I did everything right.

more

As my thoughts turn towards home,
my thoughts turn towards you.
Why you?
You of all people
I have no quarter with.
Precious decisions, once known
Will bar you from me forever
Should you know now
And get it over with?

Probably.
Will it happen?
I don't know you that well yet.
And I'm too much a chicken.

scratchings

I'll put up a few poems I found the other day.
Typing them is all good, but there's nothing as cathartic as taking a pen to paper. I can still catch my feelings better there than on a flippin' keyboard.

"You are the only woman I ever loved,"
I've heard that one before.
What is it with me?
What makes me so special?
One made me feel like property
The other I struggled desperately not to
strangle.
I think another is coming up
But what will become of it?

I'd ostracize another family I care about, if I haven't already.

Scary movie 3

I could have sworn I'd already seen this movie, but last night I realized I hadn't. Didn't miss much, but I got a few guffaws over it. I tend to have a penchant for the line "Just screwing with ya" , and its variations.

I thing the chickens are hypnotizing the dog. I'm out here house-sitting again, and the chickens are getting out of their coop 3-4 times a day. I wouldn't care so much except: (1)they aren't my chickens; (2) Eagles LOVE the taste of small animals.
Sometimes I think they know what they're doing, much like I know some cows growl. I'll walk out to the coop, open the door, and they walk back in as if they were waiting on it. Cheeky bastards.

coffee house blues.

I think R. has already picked up on my staring trick. He was trying to stare me down this afternoon, and I'd giggle right before I'd focus on his lef eye.

Hell, it used to work on my cat. The giggle would have been tell-tale. I missed playing poker with them all last night, but I wanted to play poker last week and all they did was sit around and watch that worthless excuse for a Gallactica remake.

Starbuck is a guy. A damn good looking one, and the best friend of Apollo. The human version of Skywise.
The cocky woman is good, but she shouldn't be Starbuck.

movies

Just finishing up on the island this week was "8 Below" (slated to be a local favorite for obvious reasons) And "Brokeback Mountain" (The other so-called big movie). I'll admit, I haven't seen it.

I can wait.


As hot as Heath is, the story just didn't tweak my interest aside from skimming the book. But Dennis Quaid is having a shit fit because the movie made more money than anybody told him it would. Yet the filmmakers told the studio bosses that it would bring in a ton of money.


Do you know of many movies that don't tell the studion bosses that the movie is going to bring in a lot of money? Did Star Wars have this much of a problem with people wanting their money out of it? And we all know the draw was Heath and Jake. I wanna know how many people said "Dennis Who?"
I like Quaid's movies, but the guy needs to chill out or sit on his agent for a while. Somebody's got too big of an ego. You want to get back at the studio? Act so damn good that the next time you get a bit part in the film, make the critics say "Heath Who?"

Knock off the petty shit.



Screw it. But I am going to Download Carlos Mencia's version. Mario Lopez still looks good.

part 2

The Disney film crew just wrapped up their part in" The Guardian" this week. I might actually have to stomach my feelings about Ashton Kutcher enough to go watch it. Hell, Costner's in it.


The film better keep it's Kodiak footage. Incedentally, I was told that they used the KCGB sign on their set in North Carolina. They had a hell of a time finding a place to film, I heard. Their first base was in Louisiana when Katrina hit. Second was Kodiak, but we had the volcano issue. Third was Seattle, and their set blew away with the high winds. Then it was NC, where everything froze. You'd think they'd take a hint from mother nature, but nooo.


Then they came back for the pick-up shots and had to wait an extra day untill out 130mph winds had settled. They slipped in between the winds and the frickin' snowstorm.
Anyway, they're done now.

Hope lightning doesn't strike 'em on their way home.

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I've been doing a bit of wine tasting this past month, basically to help out selling at the store, and I've figured out that I'm still a blushing kind of girl. White Merlot (*giggle* I can't say that word in my head without hearing "Merlot the Magician!" <-- a pox on Craig Kilbourne for getting it stuck in my brain), Ahem White Merlot seems to be my favorite, aside from Reisling. But you have to try a bit harder to have a red that I like. I think it has to be a Shiraz. Gag factor is low on those.

On an unrelated note (?) R. told one of my friends that he didn't want me to get the wrong idea about his intentions.

Riiight.

The guy who hits on my cousin and then suggests some *ahem* -action - over the phone doesn't want ME to get the wrong idea? (Edited for the masses. If you want extras, you have to email me). Nah. I went for his brother, 'nuff said. He's got too much of the older brother vibe for me to get any idea. Blech. I've been over this already. I'm done.

headaches

I think I actually had a migraine this week. It might not shock some people, but I've never really had one before.

I've had tension headaches, but none were the kind that made me want to curl into a dark room, or puke. Actually, I have been hit with that headache...twice. The first time was when Brad got his foot skewered. I really believe his pain was affecting me. The second time was out here...I was driving to work at the airport, when it felt like a rubberband the size of an eagle smacked me in the back of the head.

Due to the coincidence of the first headache, I have a hard time not believing that it had nothing to do with Brad again. That "rubberband" felt as if it had been stretched from Kansas, at least.
Now this one has me wondering. I haven't gotten any e-mails in the past two days.

tam

Well, I've finally got my TAM liscense for the store. It kinda shows what type of friends I have when those that know all said some form of, "Wow, you can bartend now!"
I used to do the clean version of bartending, when I worked at the coffee shop. In fact, I used a bartender's book to make new coffee drinks. Those were fun. But Ida know about running a bar. The last bartender I dealt with would always gyp me out of about $.50 a drink. I don't know where the guy got the idea that a $4 drink cost $5, but it was starting to piss me off. When the usual lady came back, I was SOO happy. And dammit, I make a point to tip her.

dads

A couple of my online friends are talking about how they screw up daily as parents. It kinda got me thinking about my relationship with my father. I have a strained relation with the man. But then again I don't know many people that don't have a bit of a strained relation with their fathers. Mel and Brad aside of course. Their pops both brought an interesting mix into my life. :)
Mine is a solitary man. I know he loves me and I love him... It came out at a court appointed therapy session (That's fodder for another bloc, not this one) how MUCH he felt. So I was 12 before I realized he wasn't an asshole. At least not as much of one as I grew up thinking he was.
His work took a lot out of him, so Mom says. His way of unwinding at home was to veg out in front of the T.V. when he was home and awake, and to yell at us when when made a noise when he was trying to sleep. Hell,my brother is 4 years older than me and we were constantly at each other's throats until I was 13. OF Course we made noise, we're family.

Dad doesn't get it. But he did try. Once, my brother decided to vacuum his room after I had gone to bed, and Dad yelled at him for making noise after 10 p.m (loud enough to wake the dead I might add). It was a necessary lesson for my idiot brother to learn, but the constant sound of a vacuum is always preferable to sleep through, versus a screaming match. It took me years to forgive Dad for making a stand like that.

See? Even my words have changed over the years on that matter. He really was trying to protect my sleeping, but I resented him for waking me up just as I had accustomed myself to a constant buzz of noise.
Now, over two thousand miles from my hometown, I get to understand him a bit more. Go figure.

Maybe it's my age. I'm finally getting over this stupid rebellion stage. Mel would even be shocked that I'm actually trying to keep a cleaner house, because it's MY mess and I'm tired of looking at it. there's almost a pride in it. (Not having an idiot boyfriend to leave a pizza box full of glass out for a month before leaving it out on the back porch for the neighbor kids to get into it helps)

clothing rants

Okay, I just wandered over to Torrid.com....EEK!

Walmart is getting so old out here. I can look at a person and tell you almost to the t what aisle she got it from. But Torrid? Gawd, just shoot me if you catck me looking at that again. somebosy from the Hot Topic in Wichita suggested it when I could only find drag queen clothing in my size...she should be shot too. Bite my ass! I want a decent, off-kilter shirt that is designed to fit me, not a heroin freak.

Roamans is okay, but their shirts all look like Omar the tentmaker had a heyday at the local JoAnnes. Myles Ahead is for larger women than I ever want to be. (the things aren't bad other than that).

Ugh. size 14 is now considered extra large.

Fuck this, I'm gonna start sewing my own. Hmm. Alight.com looks promising. Pricey, but promising.