Friday, December 30, 2005
I'm aching to climb outside and get a bag of yarn and start something, anything. Usually that means a bag...I'm a bag freak. I can't wait to get the business started and get busy making hats, shawls, scarves, and BAGS for folk. I might also make a few awesome bikini and belly dancing tops and jingle-ly scarves for dancers. Just new ideas.
Yarn Junkies Fix is a great place for linkies! Hit there and see what other yarn freaks like me are doing.
If you're into kinky, and enjoy porn or naughty stuff try out:
Great recent archival Frazetta pic...
Happy New Year to all!
Wednesday, December 28, 2005
If she were white, I'd name her Shadowfax. Brown...Brega.
Oh well, I'll think of something.
Wish me luck it costs $250 or less.
Saturday, December 24, 2005
The Boys of Summer
Nobody on the road
Nobody on the beach
I feel it in the air
The summer’s out of reach
Empty lake, empty streets
The sun goes down alone
I’m drivin’ by your house
Though I know you’re not at home
But I can see you-
Your brown skin shinin’ in the sun
You got your hair combed back and your sunglasses on, baby
And I can tell you my love for you will still be strong
After the boys of summer have gone
I never will forget those nights
I wonder if it was a dream
Remember how you made me crazy?
Remember how I made you scream
Now I don’t understand what happened to our love
But babe, I’m gonna get you back
I’m gonna show you what I’m made of
I can see you-
Your brown skin shinin’ in the sun
I see you walkin’ real slow and you’re smilin’ at everyone
I can tell you my love for you will still be strong
After the boys of summer have gone
Out on the road today, I saw a black flag sticker on a cadillac
A little voice inside my head said, "don’t look back. you can never look back."
I thought I knew what love was
What did I know?
Those days are gone forever
I should just let them go but-
I can see you-
Your brown skin shinin’ in the sun
You got that top pulled down and that radio on, baby
And I can tell you my love for you will still be strong
After the boys of summer have gone
I can see you-
Your brown skin shinin’ in the sun
You got that hair slicked back and those wayfarers on, baby
I can tell you my love for you will still be strong
After the boys of summer have gone
In 1984, I started a new life...after dying on Sept 7, 1984...waking up and changing EVERYTHING. My kids all went in and bought me a pr of vintage Wayfarers and wrote a note with the chorus and their hand outlines, signed. They may never understand the paper means so much, but the glasses are, indeed, a way for me to shed a skin and start over again. It's time. I did it in 1985...why not now?
God/dess, I love you guys. More than life itself...
Wednesday, December 21, 2005
Whoot...Will set alarm for 0800 on both days. Yum Yum.
Matching showings of "Xena: Warrior Princess"
8:00 AM Xena: Warrior Princess: Endgame 76 OXYGEN
description: Gabrielle is called back to be queen of the Amazons when Brutus kills Ephiny.
duration: 60 min
More program details All airings of this show
8:00 AM Xena: Warrior Princess: Ides of March 76 OXYGEN
description: Callisto returns to tempt Xena; Caesar plans to declare himself emperor.
duration: 60 min
More program details All airings of this show
Also, the more I think about NZ-ing it, the more I'm convinced....YEAH!
Drunk Santas cause New Zealand mayhem
Forty drunken Santas have rampaged through central Auckland, stealing from stores and assaulting security guards in a protest against the commercialisation of Christmas.
The New Zealand Herald reports some of the Santas threw beer bottles, one tried to climb the mooring rope of a cruise ship and a security guard was punched during the fracas.
"They came in, said 'Merry Christmas' and then helped themselves," convenience store staff member Changa Manakynda said.
The newspaper says the event organiser, Alex Dyer, had warned the antics would only stop when someone was arrested.
It links the incident to "Santarchy".
Santarchy (www.santarchy.com) records protests going back around 10 years in the United States, with participants marking Christmas in anti-commercial manner involving street theatre, pranks and public drunkenness.
Police say identification is a key issue as they try to sort out which of the 40 men and women had done what.
"With a number of people dressed in the same outfit, it was difficult for any witnesses to confirm the identity of who was doing what," Senior Sergeant Matt Rogers said.
"From Publishers Weekly
Zoe Luce, psychic interior decorator, has finally settled down to domestic life in Whispering Springs, Ariz., with private investigator Ethan Truax after their tempestuous courtship in Krentz's previous romantic thriller, Light in Shadow. However, sinister cobwebs of energy confront her when she enters certain rooms, threatening to make her lose her tenuous grip on sanity. Meanwhile, Arcadia Ames, Zoe's old friend from Candle Lake Manor Psychiatric Hospital, fears the husband she sacrificed her identity to escape has finally tracked her down. Krentz never fully explains exactly why Grant, Arcadia's husband, wants her dead, relying instead on facts revealed in Light in Shadow. Indeed, from beginning to end, this sequel feels more like an appendix to the last book than a novel in its own right, as Krentz forgoes a strong central plot to focus on the kind of warm and fuzzy details about Zoe and her Whispering Springs friends that most novels relegate to the epilogue. She fattens the story with pizza dinners, heartfelt talks and proffered slices of lemon meringue pie, but scrimps when the action picks up and offers limp, far-fetched conclusions to the book's various subplots. Though no one will begrudge the goodhearted characters from Whispering Springs their tasty tidbits, in her rush to get to the happy endings, Krentz leaves readers hungry for a more substantial story.
Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved."
"Digital Fortress" by Dan Brown was a two hour read and worth the .59 cents I paid at Goodwill. It's also very timely. I hear Georgie Porgie is now monitoring international calls without wiretaps. Look the message is: Don't be a terrorist.
Beyond that, Merry Yule to Everyone. I'm working on a scarf for no one in particular and I gave two away today. I'm hoping that I can get the two recipients to model them for pics for the business. Both are gorgeous early 20's chicklets and wonderous friends that I went to NIN with...groovy wenches.
Also carrying around: Magical Reiki, A Witches Guide to Faery Folk, the NIV, (MY PRECIOUS) The Lord of the Rings Reader's Companion (omg, omg, omg....my Yule giftie to ME), LOTR, The 3 A.M. Epiphany and Fun and Funky Crochet.
I bought oddball, useful presents this year and hope everyone loves me for it. I just want them to be eh eh happy.
http://thecrochetdude.blogspot.com/ is fun as usual. I'm crocheting up like mad and his additions to the 2006 "Pattern a Day" calender are great! Go Drew!
I'll be back later for additions, perhaps. Hugs....
Tuesday, December 20, 2005
More Regency dreams and I woke up to talk to a bud OL for a bit about a rock group name, Amoral Imperative. Actually, I told her we should restart our Spies OL game and use that for a mission name for my character, Tatiana.
Off to Barnes and Noble to score some sleezy priced fiction. I'm in dire need. I feel it. Feel right there. That's a $4.95 hardback NYT bestseller jones. Big one. *laughs*
Christ! Missing everyone.
Screams like Kong. (but is not ugly like Kong)
"According to study conductors at Victoria and Otago Universities, participants described the "typical Kiwi" as fun-loving, risk-taking, intellectually curious, open-minded, friendly, affectionate, happy and calm. NZ was one of the few nations of the 49 surveyed to give a fairly accurate assessment of their national character.
(6 October 2005)"
I gotta get to NZ. Clicky the linky dots at the top and look at the cow. F'king hilarious.
I forget who gave me this pic, but the chick who does these is AWESOME. She has the bestest grabs and such online. Mwah!
www.elessarsrealm.com had a great link to a karl urban site i joined but they inactivated me after a week since I didn't post. WTF? That blows my mind. I work, for christsakes. Some humans hold down real jobs and are off line for ohh god...like hours at a time.
I'm in a foul mood over other shit. A GF's brother should not be making whiney half-assed veiled threats on one's cell phone when he's clueless as to the real world for the most part. The FBI takes offense.
So, I don't want to work, I want to be rich, and I'm a Disgruntled Malcontent.
Well, I'm going to lie back down, dream some more of my Regency Karl dream and hope for some napping time. I know work's gonna call and I need to hit a craft store for art supplies.
Thursday, December 15, 2005
Monday, December 12, 2005
My right ankle, demonically possessed, continued to hurt and I called my doc, who, being saintlike in his availability to be called on in odd moments, said, "Sure...come on down. You're the next contestant on...FUCKING PAIN!"
My doc taketh out the evil fluids from my ankle and instilleth a concocation that is to ease it....
Holy F'king Shit...omg this hurts!
Big old hematoma where the needle access was....huge. Then the other half of the ankle is all swollen anyway. Oh! Let's not forget the tendon pain sprinkles.
I have made two awesome crochet scarves this past week and forgot them, or they'd be displayed proudly on the screen.
So, here's another Karl avie giftie sent to me to you...
Ok, I'm outta here to rescue my ankle from the ice I'm holding on it. Ouch.
Took multiple meds per MD's instructions. Getting thankfully sleeply.
Everyone do a work dance and pray I have a job come Wednesday!
Saturday, December 10, 2005
Hugs to those who are at normalcy today.
I'll be back there "Come Monday.." and I'll use all of this setting for a novel. I know I will.
The Mardi Gras party was FANTASTIC! Such a birthday! Happy b'day sweet Shelle...You are fantastic and deserved every second....
Now I have a wealth of great pics and happy meeeeee....
Tuesday, December 06, 2005
I have taxes to do, forms to find, an attorney to track down and hold to an agreement and I'm leaving in two days (after days of classes) for a trip.
Now the trip, that's interesting. Short, close and sweet. I can drive home to check on the pups at any time
I'm not prepared, but I'm getting there. I'll have a bag packed by tonight. I'm lost on the New Orleans theme, but I have some beads and a cup...and a mask. I'm bringing my laptop so there will be "Moon over Bourbon Street" and "Sympathy for the Devil" to be had. How do you do a N.O. theme? Flood the house. Float a dead body or two by? Flash your tits?
Let's do an assassin theme. I'll make a t-shirt of my fav. assassin (Kirill) and I'll wear it all weekend, drooling.
Thursday, December 01, 2005
National Novel Writing Month is officially over and I managed to get into the 60K's before I quit to walk away for two weeks. It was...ahem...in my best interest. I think I'll dabble with the fantasy novel I've been trying to write since 1991 (yeah, I'm that f'king old) and/or just work on finishing Yule gifties.
I went to see the Doc this morning and he injected me with four (omg) shots of Decadron. Ou-fucking-ch. My right shoulder is a pincushion, but I'm praying for relief in 1-6 days. At the moment, I make Quasimodo look like a runway model.
Got to work 12 hours tonight, so it's time for me to officially call it a sleepy nappy time.
"When In Rome"
Where can a sick man go
When he can't choke down the medicine the old doc knows
A specialist came to town, but he stays at home
Sayin', "No one knows, so I don't"Honey,
when in Rome
Where can a teacher go
Wherever she thinks people need the things she knows
Hey those books you gave us look good on the shelves at home
And they'll burn 'em in the fireplaceTeacher,
when in Rome
Grab a blanket, sister
We'll make smoke signals
Bring some new blood It feels like we're alone
Grab a blanket, brother
So we don't catch coldFrom one another
I wonder if we're stuck
Where can a dead man go
The question with an answer only dead men know
But I'm gonna bet they never really feel at home
If they spent a lifetime learning
How to live in Rome
Reading the "Serenity" script and planning an online RPG.
Soon I'll introduce MJ, my primary character, complete with pics, I hope.
Hugs to all who've put up with me and my novel thing this past month.
Sunday, November 27, 2005
So, here's the thing...I think I'll shelve the space opera for two weeks and grab it back up after I have pondered what I'm writing next. Carry about the new Palm and make some random jottings....etc.
Oh I am soooo glad I don't have to work today. Wish I had one more day off, but I'm PF'd I think. Yeah, PF'd.
I'd re-watch all three LOTR's and get back to ME. I might anyway, but I doubt it.
More later, I pray...If I'm not distracitificated. I'm cruising Karl LJ's...I'm so naughty.
Wednesday, November 23, 2005
So, Jesus Christ, Cthulu, Legolas and King Arthur have alot goin' 'bout now.
I need a name for my religion.
Legolas Fan Girl Squeeeeee!
Ok. I'm lying. I have 50K out of ohhh...a 125K book, but I came, I saw, I crisised, I arc-ed, I denumounted, I wiggled, I blasted, I hovered and I...made it over 50K.
Right now, I have a little song and dance for you. It's more of an anthem, but it involved shaking ones ass...
"I went over 50K, so I shake my round booo-tay!"
Not Shakespeare quality, but it's the best my sleepless brain can manage.
Now I have the dilemma of friendfromNCintown vs buying food.
Off to get paper paycheck (wtf are those, anymore?) and get busy. This whole Thanksgiving, steal a country from a people with a few trinkets and smallpox blankets gets to me, yah know? And don't get me started about St. Paddy and those fucking Irish snakes...
Bold and Beautiful, as always,
Wednesday, November 09, 2005
Watched a few hours of "Firefly" episodes in the background and wrote part of a bar scene that might open the book or hit within just a bit of the beginning of the book.
I went to Office Max and had three notebooks made with spiral bindings...two of two hundred pages and one of one hundred. Gorgeous speckly paper! Far far cheaper than buying notebooks. I also found a Waterman pen that Shelle might get for b'day gifty. Gorgeous!
Well, I'm off to bed soon. Tomorrow comes and I hope to get some writing done. DL'ing gag reel right now and have to leave puter on...hope its safe.
Friday, November 04, 2005
Pissed I'll not be a house stupidvisor this Sunday, but I am slated to become a PICC nurse. How's that for cool?
(trust in me, it is)
Off to bed.
Tuesday, November 01, 2005
The music in my head is some weirdass combo of NIN and Toby Keith's "What Happens Down in Mexico...". Don't ask. I was despirate for music on the way home and flip and flopped like a fish.
No one's online tonight. Nim ran off early and crashed or something. Eryn, who usually comes around is not answering. CJ was on earlier, but I had to leave him despite the great Foamy postcard! I think I'll drop a line to Circe and hit the potty and the sack.
Work tried to call me in. On Samhain. Not.
Thursday, October 27, 2005
I'm a piece of work, I'm iron and lace
I'm shy, I'm right up in your face
I'm all dumbfounded, stubborn as an ass
Sharp as an arrow in a pile of glass.
I'm a sweetheart, genius, reckless jerk.
Lord, have mercy, I'm a piece of work.
Well the Lord made me on a long thin limb
Made sure I'd remember him or her
In the middle of a long dark night
Creation crazy, death-sheet white
Made in the image of a lion shocked lamb
I am who the hell I am
Even better, bad to worse,
Down to the letter, I'm a piece of work.
I'm a piece of work I'm an angels fiend
Bathed in lavender and gasoline
Scared brave, shallow in an ink black well
Lightly browned in the fires of hell
Wicked, holy, full on fake
Best known for my big mistake
I'm zen wise, peaceful, gone berserk
Good God almighty, What a piece of work.
I'm a dreadful sight, I just don't care
Spent all morning pull out my hair
Woke at dawn with a crazy spin
I was half the day trying to glue back in
Mother, bloody mary, please
Wipe that smile right off your knees
I'm the CEO of the mailroom clerks
Lord have mercy, I'm a piece of work.
I'm a piece of work, I'm a love sick boy
Cloth cap, caviar, and corduroy
All over the map, justa lost in space
With a filthy mind and a choirboy's face
Heels up, head down, straight on through
Watch out woman, I'm a get to you
I'm a gladiator with a mind to irk
I'm a see you later, I'm a piece of work.
(Jimmy Buffet feat. Toby Keith)
passion, maybe we'd know some kind of peace. But we would be hollow.
Empty rooms, shuttered and dank. Without passion, we'd be truly dead."
Hotlanta and we walked about, taking pics of Centennial Square where the Olympic were held. It's bloody nice to have a relative with connections to hotels and a total of $26 bucks spent for what would be $600 of rooms...
There was this bitch, I have no other way to describe her with the possible exception of 'pretentious twat' which, though accurate, might be a bit harsh.
Adrian wanted to see a piece of artwork on PUBLIC display in the Chamber of Commerce building...no biggie...and she started in on me and my friend about how he COULDN'T step the two ft to look at the goddamned thing...
On the way out the door, Adrian, looking for all the world like a young executive from the CNN building across the way, leans back in and LOUDLY says, "I'd like to thank you for your hospitality...I haven't had such in a COON'S age..." in his best Brannaugh voice from 'Wild Wild West'.
Needless to say, she was an Atlantian African American fucking racist bitch. And it provoked the first bit of racism I've seen in Adrian in forever. He has had AA dates and is sooooo tolerant of all but sheer ignorance and fucking idiocy. She embodied both.
I didn't get to see her reaction, but he said it was a squeaky sputter. He is Spike, down inside folks, and we love him for it.
Atlanta in this ritzy area is clean, hilly and nice. Trees and such adorn the place and I'm not disappointed. Nothing to MOVE to, mind you, but something to enjoy while here.
NIN tonight...will update appropriately when I recover.
mwah and ttfn...
Morgan the Traveler
Sunday, October 23, 2005
I'm praying for call offs though I need the money like a fiend needs what, blood and bones?
"Doom" update...well, I was sooooo freaking sleepy I nearly dozed twice (getting less than 10 good hours of sleep in a week, even when you're manicky, will do that to you), but it was just a lovely gorefest! Karl Urban could simply steal me away and I'd willingly go like a little lamb to slaughter. "Bleet."
GFNim is ready to split a seam over Sean's new fluff. Or, as Karl would say, "Fanny". I told her to never fear and go w/her plan to deal with it in fictional writing. Yep, learned 'fanny' can refer to quim in NZ. Man, they've got alot of words I'd have to watch when I get there or I'd be getting into all sorts of trouble. *laughs* Stupid American that I am....
Friday night, I felt a supposed eight-legged creature touch my bare thigh when I was lying in the dark in bed. It was nearly dawn anyway, with me being up all night. I've been wary ever since. I despise spiders. Passionately! With prejudice...
So, last night, while deciding to cheat on NaNo to get a few days ahead (I admit it. Mea Culpa...etc, etc...), I found myself so sleepy that I only managed 500 words and crashed. Granted, it was 4 or 5 am and my alarm was set for 0730, but hey! I'm manicky at the moment. Who needs sleep?
Guess I did.
Heavy guilt on the Yule list of things I want to make for friends but it's the end of October and I'm not about to crochet November away when novels are to be written!
Just saw a lovely screenshot of Sean Bean's cock. Applause Mr. Bean, applause! And if it's that size in a cold shower room, you can keep it to yourself when it gets hard. I have no place save between my tits to put it....
More maybe later, but for now, I'm going to try to catch up a 1666 word day to buy me one off in November...*mwahahahaha*
Friday, October 14, 2005
Tomorrow, I have to go to Wally World and pick up some fud.
"Kingdom of Heaven" is on dvd and "Batman" will be next Tues, so I think I know what my next week will be spend doing...unless Aaron gets me the set of "Firefly". Ahhhh... If Twin ever gets me Sharpe vids, I'll be all spaz for weeks.
More backstory written in the form of names. The 'Serenity' movie is for inspiration. Can't wait til I get to see 'Doom'. Oct 21st!
Thursday, October 13, 2005
I'm researching and still firm on the Space Opera idea. I would groove to the spy thing too, but I'd be so drooly over a potential Kirill type, I'd get nothing but sex written. Tatiana having sex. More sex. Sex again. Sex w/pain. Sex w/pleasure...see? Perv.
Tomorrow will be spent on either shopping for various things with Crafties and Xmass/Yulies and Business in mind or hanging w/Adrian and living like a rock star for a few hours over the afternoon. Adrian is taking a young disadvantaged woman who is trying to elevate herself from existing amongst "thugs" to a place where she feels good about herself and not seeing herself as some guy's "cracker 'ho". He's going to take her to Godiva and give his new friend a huge chocolate dipped strawberry for not decking a worthless Hilton co-worker who was assaulting her. The jerk employee got fired (thank all the Gods).
Saturday, I play Seventh Sea...A Daughter of Sophia.
In the midst, I'm backstorying for my NaNoWriMo 50K sprint in November. Music being established.
Sunday, October 09, 2005
I must down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by,
And the wheel's kick and the wind's song and the white sail's shaking,
And a grey mist on the sea's face and a grey dawn breaking.
I must down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;
And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,
And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.
I must down to the seas again to the vagrant gypsy life.
To the gull's way and the whale's way where the wind's like a whetted knife;
And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,
And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick's over.
Signed up for NaNoWriMo again, bought a second copy of the book "No Plot, No Problem" since the first in in hiding and I'm going to try to write again...a novel in a month. I have this thing about the word "gypsy" and combined with Urban, it became a business name some 15 years ago. Now, I spelled it wrong on the business letterhead and license deliberately, but that was me at the time and I was very proud.
I need to sleep....*laughs* Work, all 12 hours or more of it, comes in three hours and I'm wide awake and doing writer's exercises. Wtf is wrong with me?
Saturday, October 01, 2005
Had a hell of a day yesterday. One day off, fill it with living. A trip to B/N didn't gleen anything, but I'm broke anyway. It was an hour or so of distracting amusement, with Winter and I checking out the Playgan section and finding some decent Pagan books and some old reprints. So much of modern Paganism isn't history, research, interesting tidbits from the past, or anything of the sort. It's all about "How to Turn Your Boyfriend Into a Toad." WTF fun is there in that? If he's so reprehensible, it sounds like you've managed to turn him into one in the course of your lovefest and the thing would be to get away from him. Now. Hellllooooo...it shouldn't take the God/dess to pound this into your head.
Dinner at a great little local restaurant. We started with a 'reservation for ten' and it became sixteen in no time. For the first time in oh, years...I almost stood up and hit another human being. Spike M. was showing his absolute dickheadedness being all whiny pissy about there being 'a crowd' and he tossed something at me, hitting me in the face/mouth. Well, I was the resident matriarch at a table of Gamers, many of whom actually did some military time or are trained in martial arts.
Important safety tip for people at a restaurant where the staff loves you so much they've kept the place open late at night for a b'day party for your kid and gave you all this free food...When you encounter the Mama...show some respect.
I managed, when I realized I was on my feet (oh yeah) reaching for a heavy casserole dish with one hand and a knife with the other, I was going to jail and this sonofashit wasn't worth it. I even managed to pass my anger off as some near food-fight humor, but no one fully believed it but some didn't see exactly what happened.
So, we get to the movie theatre, the guys (some 16-20) had saved me center seat in a crowded theatre cause word is, that's my seat. I graciously accepted, sent hugs and loves out to everyone, and got all comfy. Now, one of the males asked what happened...and I told them. Oh shit, oh hell...two stood up and two more were going ofter Spike M. who had also come to the movie but was sitting up and away from me. I had already gotten promises from Winter and his big, Marine-ish buddy that they'd be cool til after the movie.
After getting my son's and my own bands of merry space pirates under chill, the movie was fantastic and great fun. I had only recently been turned onto "Firefly" and think its a GD shame it was cancelled, but I will see this one again when I'm off from work next week. Oh my delish space pirate fantasies (fueled by "The Privateers") are back in wild order fighting it out w/ my Kirill ones. Laughs. Sicko, I know.
And...then the Doom trailer! OMG...licks movie screen! Karl looked great and there were more shots I'd not seen. If you're a Sci-Fi, Action or Karl/Rock fan, oh get your ass in gear to get tickets. I think I'll try to be at the 1pm show unless I've stupidly scheduled myself to work...I don't think so, tho. Newp! Karl, I shall be present and center...
So, I work the next few days and pray I can sleep. I'm having a few probs there, but hanging on. I'll see what happens.
Holding hopeful over $.
Friday, September 30, 2005
I did ok, thought. Startlingly enough, it might have been pure, mainlined adrenaline. The Danskos helped.
I've been lost in Kirill and the character for days in my head. I have real life ponderings, but for fantasies, Twin O' Mine, set off some hard core (NC-18, XXX) level lusts and I'm coping...barely.
Tomorrow, I'm off from work (and work the next three after that) but I get to eat din-din at a great Greek place and see Serenity.
Afghan progress is slow, but I'm considering ways to speed up the process.
Doom in ohhh....3 weeks. Merry Samhain to me!
Wednesday, September 14, 2005
It's an afghan with squares in Tuscan colors. At this point, I'm proclaiming it to be a Yule giftie. That keeps me going with it. I can tell myself I'm not keeping it, and will continue to work on it. I also have a request for a purpley snood to match Ren Faire garb.
The guys will be getting wonderfully long, fluffy yarn scarves and I have made up about 25 - 30 hats for the business.
Sunday, September 11, 2005
In my head, these days, I'm in some far northern place in ancient Britain, a Celt raised during occupation married to a Romano-Brit.
Toss on top of that my current reading material, "The Bourne Idenity"...I'm never denying my obsession w/Kirill.
Either way, my brains writing, reading, playing 'round...and I'm ashiver a good deal of the time thinking naughty thoughts while shopping for dog food. Not taking the time to write the fan fics...sorry wench that I am.
Brynna and Lucius: The Caesar pics help and I fumbled/stumbled across a site where the chick has almost every screen (scream!) cap. Her name would be Luciana...Lady of Light. Laughs darkly. Anyway...
Here's a treat and I'm outta here.
Oh god no...
Saturday, September 10, 2005
I found a finding, a wonderful Celtic/Greek looking two piece closure I bought to close a cloak for Ren Faire garb. Since the front dips a bit...my bottom seam, although unholy sturdy, tilts the bag just a wee bit. The clasp adds a nice decorative touch. I got wild with stamps and many colored Sharpies. Beyond that, I broke out my acrylics paints and did some paint accents. So, moon, stars, compass rose, flowers, dragonflies, flowers...and down the fly in front, all five elements of Chinese astrology. Now I've got to figure out how to get a foreign stamp to stay safely on it...
Off to do a bit more embellishment.
Wednesday, September 07, 2005
Returning to normalcy.
Tis a Dark Night in the Day.
"Rome" Week on the History Channel. So many emotions...So many...The BanDrui in me despises them. The Italian in me holds secret pride. The woman in me was so torn, even at one point in this life, that I forgo any thought of taking a male one as a friend unless I find him physically repugnant. There's somethin' about a Latin lover. Old myth.
Hugs to friends and family who have supported me through this.
Sunday, September 04, 2005
And I am oh so sick and tired of every place that I know...(Concrete Blonde throbs in the background).
Fucking Karl Urban...
My obsession. I dragged my ass away from watching "Demons..." for the umpteenth time. I'm all into Rock Star:INXS (first reality show to catch my attention, gimme a break), and I'm pushing for JD to win. Why? Cause he's best? For Fuck Sake No. He favors Karl, who, btw, for the uneducated, looks like an old bf that I willingly (read: gladly - only man who ever hit me) gave up as an uninitiated young wench of questionable sanity.
Here I am, certainly not a soul he'd notice, wishing I was. Laughing at the absurdity of that wish.
Still not at work. Still surviving on credit cards and my winning smile. Sick as a puppy up til today. Didn't sleep much to speak of. Very manic night. Valium didn't squelsh the shit throbbing in my head last night. God! I screamed, ached, hurt...The arthritis is a cruel mistress. Have a script for Gold. Christ and the angels! Gold. What sort of intriguing mouth sores will I pop up w/ over this travesty. Thanks to Adrian for going w/me. It made it make sense. I miss him. I'm going home soon.
Can't write. Can't think. Can't can't. Know what I mean? Listened to NIN today. Lyrics making to goddamn much sense. That's when it gets funny. Just before the shit starts talking to you through music, odd book choices (Arthur, LOTR today!), or the radio, you hear the rustle. If you listen.
Coldplay in my head and too much worry about the fucking taxes on my mind!
Thursday, August 25, 2005
Thursday, August 04, 2005
I worked two 12-hour night shifts and I'm suffering the consequences. I have a pain level of about 5-6/10 and nausea requiring Phenergan, so I suspect pain=nausea right now. Orientation for BG is over and I'm now privy to more of his history than I ever needed to be.
Working on the business stuff... I've got a notebook going for ideas and I'm 23 hats into my basic stock. Listing stuff on eBay and such is in its infancy. Will post more after I get an eStore going.
More later. Need to work on writing!
I want to sew an approximation of this dress for the autumn Ren Faire circuit!
Wednesday, July 27, 2005
Sunday, July 10, 2005
Ok, I think I'll focus on the good stuff for about 5 minutes:
1. At the moment, I have money in the bank. Not enough to do the repairs I need, but enough to make it another few weeks if I don't have any weird bills hit before my next paycheck.
2. Qabala - Started studying the very basic basics. Baby steps. Baby steps. Oddly, this time around (and yes, I've tried to read it with a closed mind or a wild mind or some faulty, immature mindset before, and failed) I'm keeping up and finding an interest. I'm far from stupid, but I wasn't prepared emotionally just yet.
3. An enlightening conversation with my youngest. Took 3 hours and felt like there may have been a bit of progress. Perhaps the housework will step up just a tad. He did mow the lawn today. After all, he doesn't work, doesn't have to contend with outside school and is loaded with cool stuff to do and friends to do it with...which makes housework all the less appealing, I know. It's just that, for a kid who's had hundreds of dollars lavished on him in the past two months and expects college to be miraculously paid for in ohhhh....two weeks, it's been disheartening to have him smart off about helping when I'm working as much as I am to PAY for the lavishments.
4. Work...I still have a job and it pays well. What more can I say?
5. Writing - no, no new projects beyond playing around with Space Opera. I need to read the stuff more. Most of the writers I have any 'free book' access to are all military sci-fi/s.o. Sighs. I know there are other kinds.
6. Jeep's running good even if it needs new tires, new top, a clutch...wait.
Ok, enough trying to cheer myself up. I think I'm gonna end up playing my own devil's advocate until I'm falling over from exhaustion.
It's 11ish now and time to dress for work and fly.
What a stupid blog. No fun links. No sex. No cool crafts. I gotta get a life.
Sunday, July 03, 2005
Thursday, June 23, 2005
Three toilet repairs, one replacement, a ceiling fan replacement, and an air conditioner unit. Bucks from my pocket, but progress is a good thing.
I want the house together...useful...done.
Tuesday, June 21, 2005
My life has been in a turmoil inside my head for days now and I'm ready to toss up my hands and apologize. I lost hundreds of dollars in overtime tonight not working and I'm pretty pissed. Wellbutrin won't help this, I'm afraid.
Off to post in some games for lack of things to do and the fact I've become acutely aware of my foilables and mistakes made. Call it guilt posting, but it gets my mind lubricated for other writing. I'm still way into Space Opera musings.
The George Lucas AFI awards thing helped.
Wednesday, June 15, 2005
It's 100 degrees here today with a heat index of 110...
I need a new dress...
And, and...I'm starting to game more online and possibly in real life. I'm also making things furiously for the business and can't wait to have the site online. Had the license for YEARS but never took it online. Kinda dumb of me, huh?
Got helper bees and I'm off to sew. Thinking patchy, hippie things....
Friday, May 27, 2005
There was no sign of rituals of mummification. It was as if they were freeze dried. It was a family (father, mother, grown-ish children...) all greater than six feet tall it seemed, with Neandertal features and black hair chopped in these 'little dutch boy' pageboys. They had brownish yellow teeth and were either nude or dressed in primatively tanned leather pieces.
There was some weird followup to this dream about the military being involved and then Michael, Cassie and I all searching another cave like area for religious discoveries of the primal plane (real time, real world) variety.
Scott doesn't want to play Amber, so it looks like Holly's might be a possibilty for Jamie, Michael, Wayne, Dan, Holly, Sly, Candace and lil' old me to get together and play. Scott's "it's too subjective...I want to play Pendragon or Swashbucking" speech just lost him some mondo sales. Oddly enough, I usually bought something every time I went down. Now...I don't make special trips cause I know I'll buy. I love the Green Dragon, but I'm not up for spending $$ on magickal books right now. Supposedly he's got in $4000 worth of new stock, but I'm feeling mighty poor about now.
I know this size pic could screw up my blog, but I'm experimenting with something...
*Note to self: experimentation partially successful! That'd make a nice 'Benedict' trump.*
Thursday, May 19, 2005
My Uncle Benedict? I'm thinking of playing Amber again. I love diceless roleplaying. It's like a great, huge Improv machine with friends around a table and as the Games Mistress I have to stay ahead of them all and outthink them. What a challenge! The average IQ of the folks at my table is usually 160, so it's a mind-f*ck of phenomenal proportations. I personally know two of them have IQ's in excess of 170 and that makes it all the more fun. No intimdation included.
I play all the NPCs (well, nearly all...the players can have companions) and Bethany, daughter of Corwin and Dierdre. It's funny. Corwin was the legitimate heir to the throne, having been born on the correct side of the bedsheets (Eric was a bastard son...sorry Uncle...glad you're dead. You always looked at me in a creepy, predatory way. Too bad you had to die.) and his eldest would be the most likely to rule. Oh no way. Bethany would arch an eyebrow and glare at any soul who suggested she seat the throne of Amber.
So...as much as I'd like to carry on with this diatribe, I have to go get meds (Vancomycin) and my Jeep. More later?
Thursday, May 05, 2005
Wednesday, May 04, 2005
I have a purple bag in progress for a sweetie that lovessssss purple. The other one is varigated deep jewel tone, blue, green and perhaps topped with one more dark color. It's my hope to finish this one with some semblance of dignity, perhaps decorate it with freeform crochet thingies and sling it over my shoulder.
Watched Nat'l Treasure yesterday and savored my NIN CD. My true, back-o'-the-skull obsession was tickled by my Twin mentioning Boromir from LOTR. That got the old lizard brain all tanked up on Eomer and I'm such a mess. Damn I wish that whole movie thing didn't have to end. I'm certain the actors were grateful to get on with life after years of filming, but the addict in me wants more, More, MORE! I'll try to come back in here and posty a few pics of my obsessions, but here's a treat for now:
There are some wicked crochet blogs out there and most LOTR blogs are defunct. *Sobs* Well, for some of us the road, in whatever form, goes ever on...
Tuesday, May 03, 2005
Sunday, May 01, 2005
(Ok, I admit I have no idea where the pics come from...sorry for lack of credit!)
Excerpts from this very cool article:
"Beltane -- Holiday Details and History
by Christina Aubin
Beltane is the last of the three spring fertility festivals, the others being Imbolc and Ostara. Beltane is the second principal Celtic festival (the other being Samhain). Celebrated approximately halfway between Vernal (spring) equinox and the midsummer (Summer Solstice). Beltane traditionally marked the arrival if summer in ancient times.
At Beltane the Pleiades star cluster rises just before sunrise on the morning horizon, whereas winter (Samhain) begins when the Pleiades rises at sunset. The Pleiades is a cluster of seven closely placed stars, the seven sisters, in the constellation of Taurus, near his shoulder. When looking for the Pleiades with the naked eye, remember it looks like a tiny dipper-shaped pattern of six moderately bright stars (the seventh can be seen on very dark nights) in the constellation of Taurus. It stands very low in the east-northeast sky for just a few minutes before sunrise.
Beltane, and its counterpart Samhain, divide the year into its two primary seasons, winter (Dark Part) and summer (Light Part). As Samhain is about honoring Death, Beltane, its counter part, is about honoring Life. It is the time when the sun is fully released from his bondage of winter and able to rule over summer and life once again.
Beltane, like Samhain, is a time of "no time" when the veils between the two worlds are at their thinnest. No time is when the two worlds intermingle and unite and the magic abounds! It is the time when the Faeries return from their winter respite, carefree and full of faery mischief and faery delight. On the night before Beltane, in times past, folks would place rowan branches at their windows and doors for protection, many otherworldly occurrences could transpire during this time of "no time". Traditionally on the Isle of Man, the youngest member of the family gathers primroses on the eve before Beltane and throws the flowers at the door of the home for protection. In Ireland it is believed that food left over from May Eve must not be eaten, but rather buried or left as an offering to the faery instead. Much like the tradition of leaving of whatever is not harvested from the fields on Samhain, food on the time of no time is treated with great care.
When the veils are so thin it is an extremely magical time, it is said that the Queen of the Faeries rides out on her white horse. Roving about on Beltane eve She will try to entice people away to the Faeryland. Legend has it that if you sit beneath a tree on Beltane night, you may see the Faery Queen or hear the sound of Her horse's bells as She rides through the night. Legend says if you hide your face, She will pass you by but if you look at Her, She may choose you. There is a Scottish ballad of this called Thomas the Rhymer, in which Thomas chooses to go the Faeryland with the Queen and has not been seen since.
Beltane has been an auspicious time throughout Celtic lore, it is said that the Tuatha de Danaan landed in north-west Connacht on Beltane. The Tuatha de Danaan, it is said, came from the North through the air in a mist to Ireland. After the invasion by the Milesians, the Tuatha faded into the Otherworld, the Sidhe, Tir na nOg...."
"The Hawthorn Tree - Queen Of The May
By Glennie Kindred
(Originally published at Beltane 1997)
The Hawthorn (Crataegus mongyna), Whitethorn, Haegthorn, Quickthorn or May Tree, is one of the most wild, enchanted and sacred of our native trees. Known as the "faerie tree", this beautiful, often gnarled, thorny little tree can live to a great age, and can be found growing in the wildest and harshest of spots. It grows all over Europe, Greece, North Africa and Western Asia and is rich in folklore and legend.
Even growing in a town, the Hawthorn retains the spirit of the wild, and some town Hawthorn hedges have probably been there for hundreds of years - long before the town built up around them. The beauty of this tree in full blossom touches all our hearts and holds a special place in our affections.
The keyword for the Hawthorn is the heart, and this is reflected in its herbal uses as well as its symbolism and place in folklore and legend. It has a dual sexual significance, as a symbol of abandonment and fertility, linking it to the Beltane celebrations and revelries, and a later overlay in British folklore of misfortune, chastity and sexual abstinence. This later overlay is now being transformed again, coming forward out of the confines of puritanical Christianity to become once again a positive symbol of the heart through its ability on a subtle level to open the heart to spiritual growth and love.
The Hawthorn's many names reflect its uses and properties; Haegthorn is Anglo-Saxon and refers to its use as a hedging plant, and Quickthorn referring to the live hedge or boundary formed by living plants of Hawthorn. Whitethorn refers to the lightness of its bark, contrasted with blackthorn's black bark. In many old tales it is simply referred to as the Thorn, as in "Oak, Ash and Thorn", a particularly potent combination of trees if found growing together. Often it is viewed warily, because of its thorns, and because it is said to be the haunt of faeries, elemental and enchantments.
The most common folk name we have for the Hawthorn is the May Tree. The may blossom appears on the tree at the beginning of May in the south of England, at the time of the Beltane or May Day celebrations, when people and houses were decked with may blossoms ("bringing home the May"). The popular rhyme "Here we go gathering nuts in May" is thought to have been sung by the young men, gathering not "nuts" (which do not grow in May) but "knots" of may blossoms for the May Day Celebrations. These celebrations included a May Queen, representing the Goddess, and a Green May, representing the God and the spirit of the new vegetation. It was known as the "Merry Month" and folk went about "wearing the green", decking themselves in greenery and may blossom. Everywhere, everything is bursting with life and fertility at this time, and Beltane is a celebration of this potential. The cutting of the may blossom had great significance and symbolised the beginning of new life and the onset of the growing season.
The ceremony of the maypole and maypole dancing, is symbolic of renewed life and sexual union. The pole itself is a phallic symbolic, the discus at the top from which the ribbons are tied, represents the female principle, and the wearing of ribbons represents the union of the male and the female and fertility. In some parts of the British Isles, it was the custom to erect a may tree outside every house, or for young men to erect a may tree outside the home of their sweetheart. In folklore, the common practice was to bring a new pole into the village every year representing that year's incarnation of the vegetation of nature spirit. The dancing round the pole would include a green man who would dance around the outside of the maypole dancers. This represented the tree-spirit or nature-spirit who would bless the celebrations and bring fertility to the land. Although it is tradition for the maypole to be a may tree, I look at the Hawthorn and nowhere do I see a straight tall trunk suitable for dancing round in the tradition of the maypole, and I think there is here a much older ceremony of fetching a living tree into the village from the woods. This living tree would still have its resident treespirit or dryad within the tree, and it would be the tree-spirit itself who was central to the ceremony, and would be honoured and enlisted by the villagers to ensure fertility of the land and a good harvest.
This ties in with another old folklore custom of tying ribbons or shreds of ones clothing or rags onto may trees at this time, especially where they grew near wells. These were said to be gifts for the faeries or elementals who were thought to dwell by Hawthorns. Old May Day fertility rites used the sun symbol daisy to protect the participants from the faerie folk who are particularly active then. A twig from an Oak, an Ash and a Thorn, bound together with red thread, was another protective charm, as was the use of bells (on the legs of the dancing Morris men). These customs show the fear and the potency with which country folk viewed these ceremonies, and the Hawthorn, and reflect how watered-down they have become over the years..."
This is from:
Other Historical Oddities:
From PUNCH, The Project Gutenberg eBook, Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 102, April 30, 1892, by Various, Edited by F. C. Burnand
TO THE NEW "QUEEN OF THE MAY".
(A HYMN OF HONEST LABOUR.)
After the Proclamation of the Anarchist Manifestoes, (With Apologies to the Author of the magnificent "Hymn to Proserpine.")
["For the third time the International mobilises its battalions.... Already the mere mention of the magical word 'May-Day' throws the bourgeoisie into a state of nervous trembling, and its cowardice only finds refuge in cynicism and ferocity. But whether the wretch (the bourgeoisie) likes it or not, the end draws nigh. Capitalist robbery is going to perish in mud and shame.... The conscious proletariat organises itself, and marches towards its emancipation. You can have it all your own way presently; proletarians of the whole world, serfs of the factory, the men of the workshop, the office, and the shop, who are mercilessly exploited and pitilessly assassinated.... For, lo! '93 reappears on the horizon.... 'Vive l'Internationale des Travailleurs!'"—Manifesto of the May-Day Labour Demonstration Executive Committee.]
Have we lived long enough to have seen one thing, that hate hath no end?
Goddess, and maiden, and queen, must we hail you as Labour's true friend?—
Will you give us a prosperous morrow, and comfort the millions who weep?
Will you give them joy for their sorrow, sweet labour, and satisfied sleep?
Sweet is the fragrance of flowers, and soft are the wings of the dove,
And no goodlier gift is there given than the dower of brotherly love;
But you, O May-Day Medusa, whose glance makes the heart turn cold,
Art a bitter Goddess to follow, a terrible Queen to behold.
We are sick of spouting—the words burn deep and chafe: we are fain,
To rest a little from clap-trap, and probe the wild promise of gain.
For new gods we know not of are acclaimed by all babbledom's breath,
And they promise us love-inspired life—by the red road of hatred and death.
The gods, dethroned and deceased, cast forth—so the chatterers say—
Are banished with Flora and Pan, and behold our new Queen of the May!
New Queen, fresh crowned in the city, flower-drest, her snake-sceptre a rod,
Her orb a decked dynamite bomb, which shall shatter all earth at her nod;
But for us their newest device seems barren, and did they but dare
To bare the new Queen of the May, were she angel or demon when bare?
Time and old gods are at strife; we dwell in the midst thereof,
And they are but foolish who curse, and they are but shallow who scoff.
Let hate die out, take rest, poor workers, be all at peace;
Let the angry battle abate, and the barren bitterness cease!
Ah, pleasant and pastoral picture! Thrice welcome whoever shall bring
The sunshine of love after Winter, the blossoms of joy with the Spring!
Wilt THOU bring it, O new May Queen? If thou canst, come and rule us, and take
The laurel, the palm, and the pæan; all bondage but thine we would break,
And welcome the branch and the dove. But we look, and we hold our breath,
That is not the visage of Love, and beneath the piled blossoms lurks—Death!
A Society all of Love and of Brotherhood! Beautiful dream!
But alas for this Promise of May! Do not Labour's Floralia seem
As flower-feasts fair to her followers? Look on the wreaths at her feet,
Flung by enthusiast hands from the mine, and the mill, and the street,
Piled flower-offerings, thine, Proletariat Queen of the May!
And what means the new Bona Dea? and what would her suppliants say?
Organised strength, solidarity, power to band and to strike,
Hope that is native to Spring,—and Hate, in all seasons alike;
Mutual trust of the many—and menace malign for the few.
Citizen, capitalist,—ah! the hours of your empire seem few,
An empire ill-gendered, unjust, blindly selfish, and heartlessly strong
For the crushing of famishing weakness, the rearing of wealth-founded wrong.
Few, if these throngs have their will, for the fierce proletariat throbs
For revenge on the full-fed Bourgeoisie which ruthlessly harries and robs.
'Tis fired with alarms, and it arms with hot haste for the imminent fray,
For it quakes at the tramp of King Mob, and the thought of this Queen of the May.
The bandit of Capital falls, and shall perish in shame and in filth!
The harvest of Labour's at hand!—The harvest; but red is the tilth,
And the reapers are wrathful and rash, and the swift-wielded sickle that strives
For the sheaves, not the gleaners' scant ears, seems agog for the reaping of—lives!
Assassins of Capital? Aye! And their weakening force will ye meet
With assassins of Labour? Shall Brotherhood redden the field and the street?
Beware of the bad black old lesson! Behold, and look close, and beware!
There are flowers at your newly-built shrine, is the evil old serpent not there?
THE NEW "QUEEN OF THE MAY."[pg 213]
The sword-edge and snake-bite, though hidden in blossoms, are hatred's old arms.
And what is your May Queen at heart, oh, true hearts, that succumb to her charms?
Dropped and deep in the blossoms, with eyes that flicker like fire,
The asp of Murder lies hid, which with poison shall feed your desire.
More than these things will she give, who looks fairer than all these things?
Not while her sceptre's a snake, and her orb the red horror that rings
Devilish, foul, round the world; while the hiss and the roar are the voice
Of this monstrous new Queen of the May, in whose rule you would bid us rejoice.
That's about it for now...
I'm painful, exhausted and my son is having to tie bits of ribbon to our Hawthorne for me...Sad lot for a HPS, but I'm proud that he'd do it for me.
To the Queen o' the May,
Thank you for every breath.
Saturday, April 30, 2005
I was released from Torture Central (hospital) after a week. They can't help it, but I was sick, sick, sick and it took that long for me to get to the point of being able to venture home...I am not well, cannot return to work, but I'm not stuck in a room that I didn't feel well enough to venture out of...
Now where is a fine, braw Scottish laird when a girl needs one?
Friday, April 22, 2005
Alec Trevelyn is on USA...Bond, James Bond. Ohhhh...What a delicious couple(t). I have to say that he's far sexier than Bond and I adore Pierce Brosnan's Bond. Sean Bean is so wicked. When he threatens to rape the Russian programmer (Natalya), it's pure sex. No T&A, no simulated humping and he made you wish you'd been taken captive! Big death, little death...you'd probably be privy to both. (Hopefully, not in that order.)
It's getting warm here and my downstairs AC is screwed. Damn! It seems I'll have to fork over somewhere in the neighborhood of a grand for a repair and $4K for a replacement. That majorly sucks.
For the moment, I'm sitting here watching this movie and being glad I have at least one more day off before working yet another weekend. They tried to call me into work tonight and I couldn't. I was just too achy. Very sore hips and body.
I have bought cards, Mod Podge, scissors, and brushes. I have a Previews (comics) and magazine collection started. I'm going to make divination cards from them or ATC (trading cards).
Here's a treat...Thank you Ian Fleming!
Wednesday, April 20, 2005
Friday, April 15, 2005
Now, I've scrounged through my photos and managed to find a couple with this look on Mr. Urban. I like having images in mind for a character so that I can write descriptions. Usually it's a blend of people - real or imagined - and it will be this time, as well. I had considered a man who resembled Gerry Butler in "Timeline" but I think I'll save that for a certain NH that I know ("NH" btw means "Ninja Hoyden"). This is such a lovely pic. I have several of him dressed similarly and he's scrumptous.
Off to sleep in prep for work. Three night shifts starting tonight....ouch. I'll be tired come Monday.
Maybe I'll get a bit of writing done?
Thursday, April 14, 2005
Monday, April 11, 2005
Truth is, one reviewer called it a “Quirky little comedy…that will leave you smiling when you think back on the film.” He’s right. It’s definitely strange but every character, with the exception of the old Maori woman (who was like a bizarre faerie godmother/keeper of fates/Snake on the Tree of Life), was engaging. I loved the youthful, optimistic Mysticism of what could be Eden on a milk farm.
I’m beginning to believe all New Zealand Film Commission sponsored movies are like film majors valiant attempts at a graduation project. Interesting, but full of strange twists and engaging characters.
‘Course, I love indie films, so ‘it’s all good’.
I’m hoping to get a bit more than 3 hours of sleep tonight or I’ll be an exhausted wreck tomorrow. I also know that I have other things to do. If I go and stay up til 10pm then it’ll be 3am before I get to sleep. Such is the way of things when a night owl tries to alter their natural circadian rhythms. Once I hit the prime of nighttime, then I’m up for the duration.
Someone sent this to me in an email once. I haven’t the foggiest idea of its origins, but I thought it might be fun to share.
Rules for Writing a Fantasy Novel
1. The heroes will lose every battle, but win the war.
2. It will only rain when the heroes are exhausted and running out of food.
3. The heroes will only have horses if they are going to climb a mountain, where they won't be able to ride the horses anyway.
4. The enemies will be killed by the slightest mishap, but the heroes will live through anything.
5. The hero and heroine will fall in love on the last three pages.
6. Magic (if available) will be used intelligently by the heroes, but will be wasted by the enemies. 7. You will annoy the reader by placing numerous re-hashings of prior events in the first four chapters of the second and following books of a series.
8. Start off occasional chapters with a description of one of the main characters engaged in some activity, without using their name. The reader will feel exceptionally smart when they figure out who it is before you reveal it.
9. Racial prejudices will be ignored by the heroes, but will be a factor in the downfall of the enemy.
10. The enemy will be able to predict all of the heroes actions, but will be powerless to stop them; the heroes will foil all of the enemies plans through sheer dumb luck.
11. The heroes will be able to survive for weeks without feeling the call of nature, unless they are in a cell.
12. Should the heroes be captured, the enemy will gloat and reveal all of their plans.
13. Should the heroes be captured, they will be kept in a small cell with a bit of straw but no windows, and will only be fed bread and water at irregular intervals. Despite this, they will be able to tell how much time has passed.
14. Magic swords do not glow except when the heroes have no other source of light, or if it is dark, and they need to be captured for the plot to advance properly.
15. The heroes, after making a noise when trying to remain silent, will stand perfectly still for several minutes. The enemy will not, however, have heard it. (Alternate scenario: the enemy will hear it and search the area immediately (rather than guessing the action of the heroes, and waiting for them to move again, thereby giving themselves away). The heroes will quickly hide, their sounds masked by the noise of the enemy's search.)
16. Only describe a monster you have created once; call it by name any other time it appears, even if the character it is spotted by did not see it the first time or have it described since.
17. At least one of the heroes will be the second best in the world at something. The only person better will be one of the enemy, but they will nonetheless be defeated by the hero at the climax.
18. Everyone in a position of power is corrupt, and is subject to bribes.
19. Rulers of any large territory (eg. Kings, Emperors, etc.) are either terminally stupid or insane, and could not suppress a rebellion if their life depended on it (which it usually does).
Saturday, April 09, 2005
Woke up with nausea, an upset stomach, unusual funky other symptoms and pain in most of my joints. The weather has been rough lately...beautiful for the eyes and rough for folks with RA. I'm also not sleeping enough working days all of a sudden after two years of nights. I'll go back to nights next friday (six days) and I'll be grateful for it, I believe.
I descimated my checking account this week past by paying every known bill in a very short amt of time. Wow. 'Course taking $3K from anyone normal human's acct might do that if you're Middle America. I'm Southern Eccentric American. I'm really not rich enough to be called 'eccentric', but I can imagine and dream. I'm actually more Dysfunctional Southern American.
I'm sitting here listening to daybreak birdsong and feeling the dampness of an early spring morning. I really do equate this place to Dol Amroth. It's old, has an otherworldly feeling, as if it once was inhabited by an older race (like Elves) and now has diminished and the bloodlines are weakened. I'd love to go to the beach today. It would exhaust me and it's not safe with the medications I'm on (besides the gas money necessary would also be a shocker), however, I'm thinking I'd enjoy the journey. I might just call my compadres and see if anyone wants to take a ride with me to wherever. Hell, if they'll drive, I'll sport for fuel.
I need the spiritual renewal and the energy I'd get from a trip to Mother Ocean. I would've loved to have gone during some of the recent rains. Last night's dinner, which I am paying for today with a hell of a stomach ache, would've been better substituted with a Coca-Cola, some sort of pastry and a windows-down ride to the beach. I couldn't have wandered very far with my level of exhaustion (made worse by taking Methotrexate the day before). I would've enjoyed it, though. It was a nice, slightly breezy spring night with an edge of chill to the damp air. Ahhhh...
I've managed to lose ten pounds between the med side effects and a recent stomach virus. I've dropped enough that co-workers who haven't seen me in a month were all over me yesterday commenting. Complementary, but I would prefer to have lost it by some other method than nausea, which is despise! My hair looks good, though, with all this humidity. I am cultivating this wicked silver streak off of my left temple. If the rest doesn't change too much with life's marching calendar and the meds that tend to change the color, I'll have a Polgara streak in a year. It's grown out quite a bit since I hacked at it last year and lopped off some 6+ inches. I need to cut more off for the sake of the ends probably, but it's back down to the small of my back when I stand straight in a semblance of good posture.
I'm going to drop off here after a list of 'concerns and things to care about':
2. Amber - I want to play!
3. Meds - I dread the bill.
4. The next two work shifts...ugh.
5. Sharpe's Collector's Edition - $212.14 is the best deal I can get at the moment.
He looks as if he is sitting at any low-end apartment pool here in modern-day Dol Amroth. Such a normal looking guy photo. That is not a bad thing for the imagination...when I think of layers of backstory in my modern-day Urban Faerie Tale (no pun intended), I can throw his image in there for fodder. What excellent fodder....*licks lips*.
Monday, April 04, 2005
Lost a huge post when I shifted to look at the Canadian Tracking service for packages!
List of things to do:
(and I won't be able to correct exactly, but that's ok, more reason to fuss and grumble...heh)
1. Name my spy character for the game. Profile her. Find a pic of her. (insert "argh" here).
2. Name the Blog for her.
3. Create blog.
4. Profile at least four other characters...oh god...and get them up on the board.
5. ....more later
Saturday, April 02, 2005
Thursday, March 31, 2005
han mathon ne nen...(I feel it in the water)
han mathon ne chae...(I feel it in the Earth)
a han noston ned 'wilith. (I smell it in the air)
Much that once was is lost.
For none now live who remember it.
I live in fear when there is a change of Popes. The world destablizes and things go...sideways. I have a constant level of paranoia and anxiety about society at large and the world in general. No, I'm far from Catholic. I'm about as far from Catholic as it gets, being a UU (Unitarian Universalist), but I'm sooo superstitious and I believe in all gods. They're all real. All of it...angels, demons, Faeries...all of it. The world is like an onion. Layer upon layer of realities, dimensions, doorways...
I want to continue on with this post, but I'm being called to my knitting machine. I want a large bag. Knit one...
I don't know why I wanted to blog this pic. He looks bad in beige, but I was drawn to it. Here it is...
Sunday, March 27, 2005
I need a big, huge thingy of gesso to alter books already printed so that I can pour out my overcrowded brain in massive spurts on the pages and then embellish it all with paint, beads, found paper items, stamps, leaves....ephemera.
Truth being, if I were less of a procrastinator, my room would be organized and I'd be able to find all of my books and supplies without bloodhounds. I love the idea of taking old textbooks, old beat up nothing books who no one loves (who needs a business law textbook from 1974?) and turning them into works of art or shared journals mailed among friends!
A wondermous linky to let you know what I'm rambling on about. Here's an example from their site (unauth'd use w/many kind thanks):
My other hot desire at the moment is embellishments, which is like altered art on cloth.
(Kind thank you's to Lilla Le Vine for this unauth'd use. Please visit this fantastic site at http://www.art-e-zine.co.uk/lilla.html)
Alas, I have to crash for work which comes in 4 hours. My stomach has been unholy evil and I've lost three days of off-time to gross non-productivity thanks to 36 bathroom trips in as many hours coupled with 102 degree temps (for me, that's a 5 degree above norm temp!).
I'll miss everyone for the three days I'm at work!
Friday, March 25, 2005
I keep telling myself that I'm going to write a Russian spy story or some type of story that involves deliciously slow interrogation by a cold-edged gentleman (and I use that term loosely).
Another example of a fine, dangerous, wicked spy. OO6...
For my twin, if I can perk up a bit, I think that just might be the order for April. Serve up one wicked spy story. Perhaps a doubly dangerous one...two men, two victims....hmmm.
Tuesday, March 22, 2005
Message for Twin: I'm sorry that it took me so long to get home. I was talking w/Mienna and time got away. I had to make the other stop I told you about, so I didn't make it here 'til 45 min after I wanted to be here.
I'm going to try and get some sleep tomorrow unless I have to carry Duck to the doctor. If that happens, then I'll be out of the house for however long and then sleep...two more 12s mean I have to rest a bit or I'll be sorry and in pain by Wednesday morn when I have an appt.
All that translates into me not returning nor even trying for an update til Thursday. Perhaps I'll toss in some fan fiction here from LOTR and make a more interesting post that this.
Trying to keep it together...so far, I'm about 50/50.
Saturday, March 19, 2005
I managed to sleep something like 15 out of the last 24 hours. I kept falling asleep wondering what was wrong with me when it dawned on me it was the meds I was on most likely. I have one I take weekly that completely takes me down to zero energy and it looks like I'll have to plan on the taking when I don't want to do anything at all...except for sleep. I couldn't even keep my eyes open to stay on my computer. That's bad....
Work is going well so far and I'm working on keeping this job if the salary is right. I like doing it as a relief person (and the pay is quite tasty), and I think I'd do well as a regular staff member.
The small staff present actually schedules themselves 5 days off in a row twice each 6 weeks. That is a bonus in and of itself.
I have no good poetry to type in, no creative thoughts and little by way of juicy links.
Friday, March 18, 2005
My reply (edited to protect the innocent):
"...It's so bad, it's hysterical. I have never seen porn so inept, and the ripoff so bad. After the Sex Trek series, where the humor was priceless, this was kinda strange. Throbbits? Omg. National Lampoon had Bored down pat and I recently acquired Sillymarillion, so I can compare.
This was bad. Mansquito bad. William Shatner bad.
I have to say, Tommy, If Sean and Viggo were in it, or (gasp) Karl (note Karl's lovely behind in "Demons"), I'd gladly slay dragons to protect my copy.
This....was funny at first and then just plain zzzzz at the end. I am a huge "Gamers" fan (go Dead Gentleman!) and parody's are grand. But Tolkien must be crying. At least get it right, people....laughing.
Skinny girls in Frederick's closeouts...just ain't my thing.
*Recalls a pic of a bunch of guys on a beach....all nude....wishing I'd been in NZ for a morning walk along that particular stretch of sand.*
P.S. Rent an old Hypatia Lee vid called "The Ribald Tales of Canterbury" if you want fun parody porn."
Thursday, March 17, 2005
If anyone wonders about the "Leaves of Lothian"...I'm a Gawain freak. Yep, Gawaine of Lothian, son of King Lot. Lothian was his land, one that he never claimed as the eldest son after Lot died. Pity, that. For an electronic copy of Le Mort by Mallory, here's a linky: http://etext.lib.virginia.edu/toc/modeng/public/Mal1Mor.html
For more fun, free research texts, try Project Gutenberg:
Today has been a day of trying to get my stored pics to work w/the blog and goofing off. I threatened to break out the knitting machine and knit a blanket from the new yarn I bought. There is a lovely deep teal yarn begging to be crocheted or knit into a lovely, huge blankie.
I'm reading smut, but what's new? I love erotic fiction and am ever glutting myself . Looking at pics can be exciting, as can watching movies, but I do adore a decent D-I-D (damsel-in-distress). www.bondedhearts.blogspot.com looks like it will be deliciously wicked thanks to the infinitely naughty mind of it's founder, the lovely Regan.
Poetry for the day:
Streets of Madness and Vapor
Oh Queen of Realms far
Beneath ice-capped waves
Streets of madness and
Whispers to we poor mortal
Drowning us in swathes
of pale grey linen
And shivers of the North Wind
We walk our days in
half-lit shadows and we
nothing that intrigues
For the heart that beats to
a Faeries song
was lost long before
the sky lightened with day.
Relinquishing the ghost
of a life to walk amongst
the lilies and feel the
of a sylphs fingertips
on your ankles
And still we cling to
reality as if it were
capable of closing
soul-doors, dark mysteries
We are fools
who cry out to keep the despised
clasped fiercely to our
Lost, we follow not the
To you, I bid goodbye
For I have gleaned my
from the chafe of bitter
noise and dead, dull eyes
and I chose to ride
to where the land meets sea
And wait for her to
call to me
The Dragon track I will
Power, a pulse of my heart
And to you who choose
To forget her music
I will weep no more.
© M. W.
July 31, 2004
Trying to get past my lust for Freeform Crochet, but I'm failing. http://www.eject.com.au/e-motive/prudence/whatis.htm
Altered Art is the other madness that tickles the edge of my brain and here's the last book added to the Library of Alexandria growing in my house:
It's called "Artists Journals and Sketchbooks: Exploring and Creating Personal Pages" by Lynne Perrella.
What a scattered blog. Aquarian.
Today is St. Paddy's day, a day I typically will not celebrate. Something about that whole "driving the snakes out...", snakes being a euphemism for Druids. http://www.newadvent.org/cathen/11554a.htm. There is an "official" story here.
Here's a great Druidry site: http://druidry.org/. Future posties will enclude cool sites I dredge up.
Writers Challenge for the day:
"Write about an ordinary ritual in which something goes terribly wrong."
Poetry Challenge for the day:
"Describe fat birds snuggled atop tree branches on a cold winter's day, and why they are on that particular tree."
Wednesday, March 16, 2005
Yet Another Blog....
Yet another blog...my others are not defunct, just resting quietly in oblivion for the moment. Arthurian Celtic Viking LOTR Beaded Poetic Altered Art madness should be the title with a subtitle of : "Crochets and Loves BDSM, Too!", however, that's a bit wordy.I think I may raid my others for choice posts and sticky them here.I declined an extra shift at work (bye bye $$$$$) and decided to be a lazy wench.Recent treasure acquisitions: tons of books on Arthur, one on Altered Art Journals (ah...lovely), and YARNS. I am a happy nutcase...one with more books than a human could read in a lifetime and mounds of lovely yarn for crocheting.Ok, ending this intro post here...more later.