October 31, 2002

Many bad things happened today.

One good thing. Wonderful Pumpkins!!!




I will talk about the bad tomorrow. I don't want to ruin the happy pumpkin feelin I have right now.

This is halloween, everybody scream!
posted at 9:46 PM

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Happy Halloween.
I might go see the Ring tonight, to see what all the fuss is about.

It also saddens me to know that Jam Master Jay, from the greatest rap group of all time -- Run DMC, was killed yesterday night.
Man, why can't we all just get along?

Otherwise, I was up at 7:30 am on my own accord, and I'm sort of angry about this.
posted at 8:47 AM

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October 30, 2002

I've been dreaming of zombies again. I don't understand it. Is it a message from the other-world warning me of my impending fate? Am I forever doomed to be plagued by zombies? Will I be eaten alive like Linnea Quigley in Return of the Living Dead?
What's the deal with the zombies, man??

I'm heading out to go have lunch with a bunch of people I used to work with. I am both happy and annoyed by it. I don't know how it's going to go. I haven't seen them since I was fired laid-off, and I don't know what I'll talk about. I always worry about these sorts of things. I know it's going to go fine -- after all, we talk in email right? Ah, it's no big deal. I just don't want to have to drive the fuck out to Shelby Township ...poor me, I know.


posted at 11:00 AM

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October 27, 2002

One week later, I am well.
There is nothing worse for me than to be ill. Most often, I wind up delerious in the bathroom, lying on the floor, wondering how I got there. This happens more than I would like to admit. I don't understand it and there's no reasonable explanation for it. I must feel that the bathroom is a comfort zone. I never did it before I moved into my current apartment, so I can't say that I have some sort of history with the bathroom.

In addition to the strange attraction I have for the bathroom floor, I tend to have weak lungs. Most of my sicknesses reside right in the lungal area. (lungal? is that a word? it is now) Which often means, I can not sleep lying down otherwise I wheeze, burr, gasp and make other strange noises. I also feel like I'm drowning in my own phleghm. Nice, I know. So this means, I have to either sleep in the recliner or proped up on the couch. You can imagine how comfortable this is. I think I'd rather put spikes in my ass than have to sleep propped up on the stupid couch one more night.

I didn't leave the apartment for five full days. On the sixth day, all I wanted was to get outside. I didn't care how I was feeling, what was happening and how many organs I was coughing up at the time. I needed some change of scenery. The first thing I noticed was how much the world smells. There are just too many smells for our own good. I could smell everything -- the stink of the mud, the exhaust from the cars, the moisture in the air, grass, cement, asphalt, trees, pollen, flowers, animals, birdseed -- it was too much. The grocery store was equally overwhelming. By the time I got home I was exhausted, sick and dizzy with stink of the world.

I still am coughing a shit-ton, and I get tired pretty easily (if I overwork myself) but I'm on the upswing.
I'm just glad that I can sleep in my bed now. Down side...I'm taking antibiotics and they really wreck havoc on my system in more ways than I care to share.

Other than that, I can tell you that I did nothing but lay in a half-fugue state. I can tell you that I ate nothing but toast...until Thursday and then was able to move up to juice and soup. Mmm. Wheat toast and water. The breakfast/lunch/dinner of champions and the incarcerated. I think I watched a movie. I cried a bit but I'm prone to crying at the drop of a hat. I never slept more than an hour at a time -- which I believe led me to lying prone on the bathroom floor. Crazy.
So, nothing else to report.

I'm getting better and that makes me happy.

posted at 10:04 PM

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October 22, 2002

so sick.

i think i have bronchitis.

i can't breathe.


i wish i were dead, sick.
that is all.
posted at 2:08 PM

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October 20, 2002

I can't write much, I am so sick I can 't even sit upright.

Today I went to cedar point.

Rode my first "real" rollercoasters -- not counting the 1) big white long one at boblo...2) the inside one at boblo...3) the one at the mall of america (that apparently is a "joke" rollercoaster)

I rode the Iron Dragon and the Gemini.

Thumbs up on the Iron Dragon

Four hundred and ninety seven nine thousand and five thumbs down for the Gemini.
I spit on it's creators.
I want to eat their children.

And while I'm at it, fuck those things called "negative G Forces" that tell your body to lift out of the rollercoaster while you're cruising along at 60 miles per hour.
Fuck you physics!

But, I've lost my voice, my ears hurt extremely bad, my eyes won't stop itching, my nose won't stop running and I can't get warm...with three sweaters and a down blanket on.
Yeah, I'd say I'm getting sick.
More about Cedar Point later.

So much for that flu shot I got last week..(Fuck you , too, Flu and Flu Shot Giver!!!!)

posted at 12:30 AM

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October 18, 2002

I have an inexplicable crush on Ralph Fiennes. It's the serious, head over heels, heart racing, teenage crush that just smacked me out of nowhere. I have no idea why or how this happened. The only thing I can even remotely relate this to is his character in Red Dragon -- which ultimately disturbs me to no end. His character is nasty and disgusting and not someone that people would be drawn to.
Yet, I am.
(You have no idea how much trouble that sentence gave me...should it be "not someone to whom most people would be attracted?" It's killing me. )
I want to eat, drink and breathe Ralph Fiennes.

I am currently watching a movie titled "End of the Affair" starring my object of affection, directed by Neil Jordan...one of the worlds most underrated directors. I absolutely adore Neil Jordan more than words.
If you're not familar with his work please see the movies:
The Company of Wolves
The Crying Game
Butcher Boy
In Dreams

You probably know him from the movie "Interview with the Vampire" -- a movie I can not bear to watch, not because of the beautiful direction of my man Neil but because of the god awful casting. Tom Cruise is Mission Impossible (parts one and two). Tom Cruise is Top Gun. Tom Cruise is Eyes Wide Shut. But Tom Cruise will never, ever be Lesatat.

The End of the Affair, I believe, was made for me. It was written for me, directed for me. It might as well be called "Am's Movie". Only for the fact that, it has Ralph, it has Neil Jordan and it is set in 40s London.
Good Lord.
They could be talking about treacle and crumbcakes for all I care....

"i'm jealous of everything that moves. I'm jealous of the rain"
"How can you be jealous of the rain?"
and she turns to kiss him.
My heart swells with the music...
I need to move to England...and also go back in time.
*deep romantic sigh*
posted at 4:21 PM

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October 17, 2002

I have no idea what to write about. I have no idea what to talk about.
I do know that I'm starting to fall deeply in love with music again. Music. I love it. Thrash music, classical music, punk, ska, emo, brit-pop, techno, hip hop, anything bring it on because I love it. I love it so much I'll marry it.
My brother got these amazing new speakers for his Cherokee and this giant "box" thing that has speakers in it...and let me tell you, when he pumps the bass, your heart stops for a second and you lose conciousness. Maybe not that much, but it does make it hard to breathe. It's amazing. I sat in his car and just smiled and clapped. Now before you get all "that boy's a wigger" on me, let me set the record straight. He's not. He just likes loud loud music. He's all about the Korn and the Limp Bizkits. He's all about the Garth Brooks. He's all about the NIrvanas and the Soundgardens. He loves Aerosmith and Tupac. He likes the Misfits and he'll tolerate Morrissey for me. Okay, so he's starting to sound white trash. Fuck you, then. He's cool. You got somethin to say? You say it to my face.
Woah..get defensive much?

J's little brother has this really cool jungle cd...and I mean in the music style, not the African variety. Drum and Bass. We played it really loud in the living room and I think the dog went into a seizure. Actually, come to think of it, I think I did too but I thought I was dancing.
He's using it to test his "system" in his car.

What's with boys and their "systems"?

I want a system too.

The funniest thing: My uncle calls his "surround sound" either "Around Sound" or "Round Sound." He just can't get it right. And instead of Dvd Player, it's VDD player.
I love the guy. It's a family trait, not being able to say words correctly. My dad has his "chimley" instead of Chimney and Chickago instead of Chicago. I have "Vite-ee-yum" instead of "Vitamin" and apparently I say "worship" more like "War-Ship" but I think that one is stupid. I also have my words with alternate definitions like "Shirleys" and "Chickens" and "wee"
Back in the day, when Chantal (my highschool friend) and I were talking on the phone about her most recent sexual exploits, we had to use made up words because the regular words would skeeve us out (proof positive she was too young to be doing what we were talking about!! The tramp!!)
Rubber Chicken, Salad. I can't remember the others. Carrot was one, too, I think.
Those are hilarious!

Is this a normal thing? Does everyone use made up words or alternate definitions? Please tell me I'm not alone?
And this started about music. Welcome to my life.

posted at 11:34 AM

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October 14, 2002

Growing up, I was friends with a girl named Niki. She was, and still is, someone I considered my sister. When her mom was too busy to help get her ready for kindergarten in the morning, my dad was the one who stepped up. My parents disciplined her like she was their own. Nearly every childhood memory I have involves Niki in some way, shape or form. She's a constant from my childhood. One of my favorite memories of us involves rollerskating.

Niki and I used to try to rollerskate down our street into my driveway, but it wasn't quite as easy as it sounds. We lived on a dirt road. It was more off-road roller skating...free style...involving a lot of skinned knees and hands. We were country kids, we didn't know you weren't supposed to rollerskate on The minute a rock gets wedged into the wheel of your skate, it locks that puppy right up and you fall on your face instantly. And as a result, you tend to ruin skates rather quickly.
My set got ruined right quick so between Niki and I we only had one set of roller skates.
Of course, that didn't stop us from skating. This means, I got the right skate and Niki got the left. We'd skate around on one foot in her basement laundry room, swinging around and around the basement poles using our one socked foot to kick the ground, faster and faster ...trying to dance around to the Thriller album and look as cool as we could with one roller skate on.
Her grandparents were her primary guardians, and they were mostly on the golf course. We had a lot of free time to spend in her house, which looking back, at the age of 7 or 8, is not a very good thing.
The layout of the house was enough to creep you out to begin with. The only entrance to the house was through the "basement". The "basement" was the main floor of the house, but was for all intents and purposes just a basement. It was decorated grandma like, but no one ever spent any time down there at all. It was where Niki and I played and that was pretty much it. It was huge, too, with one wall all sliding glass doors. ...which makes me wonder how much of it I'm exaggerating with memory and how much of it was just a giant, basement type room that was wasted space. The upstairs, the living area, was also huge. Four bedrooms, two living rooms, a formal dining room, regular area where you ate dinner (i dont' know what it's called), big kitchen and the whole entire front of the house was a big deck. Does this make any sense?
Well, it was a bit scary to come over and have to walk through the big emtpy basement to get up to the stairs to go to the land of the living. Niki and I were convinced that the basement was haunted and that's why her grandparents were never down there.

Once, when we were playing upstairs (and her grandparents were golfing), we heard a big crash downstairs. Scared as hell, we called the cops. (was 9-1-1 around in 1983?) We made our way downstairs to confront the burglar and/or monster that was waiting to kill us. When we discovered it was just the dog that had knocked something over, we paniced a second time. The cops were on there way so we had to make something look like a burglar had come into the house, so the cops 'wouldn't be mad at us'. We went outside, put our hands in the dirt and put hand prints over the walls and the door. We put dirty (bare)foot prints on the ground to show where the burglar came in.
We knocked over a lamp and threw some clothes around to convince the cops that someone had been there.
Yep. A burglar with dirty barefeet and hands...oh and it had to be a MIDGET burglar to have the same hand and foot size of a 7 year old...oh and yeah, clumsy enough to leave handprints all over a wall no where near the door.
They were only concerned we were there alone, without supervision. They made us go next door to my parents house until Niki's grandparents got home from golfing.

Oh to be young with too much imagination...
posted at 9:23 PM

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Is it possible to shellac a carved pumpkin?
posted at 6:04 PM

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October 11, 2002

Ok. SO the answer appears to be that Mummies retain the intelligence from their past lives whereas zombies are mindless rotting corpses that just yell "braaainsssss" and "send more paramedicssss"

Now...the second part to this question is when you resurrect a mummy, is s/he under your control like a zombie?
posted at 8:10 PM

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October 10, 2002

What makes a mummy different from a zombie?
I mean, aside from the obvious clues like "wrapped in rags" or whatever...
I'm talkin when you get down to the basics of it all...
Oh and I guess I should clarify, I mean the mummies that get up out of the grave and chase you saying 'OHRhrarhrrhrr" and zombies that are created to come and chase you going "ORHHRHRHARHARHR"

These are the things that fill my brain...questions...questions...I've got more!
posted at 11:11 PM

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October 07, 2002

Again, I am sick. I'm plagued with the dreaded Head Cold of Suffering . Sometime during the night I also developed a bloody nose. I mistook this for a runny nose and woke up with blood on my hands and all over a kleenex. What a frightening thing to wake up to.

(interesting aside, I like how the kleenex brand name has taken over our vocabulary as the word for tissues. I hate the word tissue and the people that generally say them are kindergarden teachers or librarians...sometimes nurses. They're kleenex. Just like soda is not a word...it's POP people!...)

Anyway. Today was the day that they were supposed to SPRAY for Aunts (sic) in our apartment building. We, the tenants of building 1880, decided to plan a revolution. They were spraying for carpenter ants, which we don't have. The ants we DO have are Pharoah ants...and can only be killed by baiting them with poison.

(another aside...does anyone remember that commercial that has puppet plants singing "Poison! Poison! Our leaves are Poison!! Please don't eat our leaves!!)

So, the maintenance guy and the bug spraying guy came in and I asked them if they realized that they were spraying for ants that we didn't have...yadda yadda...he looked at me like I was a complete asshole. We have Pharoah Ants. More of the asshole look...
"How do you know," he asked me.
"Because, they're about this |-| big and they're brown/orange in color with a darker colored abdomen. They come in swarms and they bite"
"Do you have an ant I can see?"
"Oh my g..uh ..okay..well, we have traps up so I don't see any of the ants. (turning to neighbor) Amy do you have an ant??" She runs to get one.
"OH" the guy says...and leaves.
Hm. SO we wait to find out what's going on. Long story short (too late) they are coming back with the goddamned bait traps we wanted in the first place!

If they were to spray for Pharoah Ants, it would stress the colony out and cause them to divide...so one colony could realisitically create up to 10 colonies in a building our size (8 units). I'm all worked up about this because I can be. I'm sick and it's too much effort to do anything else but bitch online about Pharoah ants...but trust me...these jerk ants are so difficult to kill that when you get an infestation, you'll thank your lucky stars I went on and on about it.
It's all about the BAIT TRAPS. Listen to me.

I am also curious why I constantly get motivation while I'm sick...maybe it's my passive agressive way of dealing with stuff I need to do..
"OH, self, I'd do it...and believe me, I really want to...but you know, I'm so sick *coughcough* and I just can't get it done today"

I guarantee this is what it is.
That pisses me off.
posted at 10:16 PM

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October 06, 2002

So I met the man, again. What an amazing time it was.

He mentioned that he absolutely loved my card and displayed it proudly for everyone to see. I got my photo taken with him and shook his hand several times. I have heard that he really adores handmade things so that's good too...

I am currently having a serious asthma/allergy attack so am not in the mood to write all about this, but just wanted to let a couple people know that yes, I did have a good time and yes, Clive thinks I am queen of the universe.

*fist in the air* I rule.
posted at 8:30 PM

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October 04, 2002

I'm off to go meet Clive Barker. Here's hoping I don't get tounge tied and look like an idiot!!

Be back Saturday night.
posted at 1:13 PM

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Things that make me incredibly happy -- I'm talking like a two year old at Chuck E. Cheese type happy:

* RIVERDANCE
* Gregory Hines/Gene Kelly tap dancing
* Cats of any type (except if they're dying/dead/sick/eyeless/legless)
* Knowing Ross Gellar (the fictional character I would most like to marry) has the same birthday as J. (It's fate, I said...he laughed)
* Craft Stores
* Marching Bands

Things that make me incredibly pissy -- I'm talkin like a two year old who has to leave Chuck E. Cheese type pissy.

* Magazines that showcase clothing and styles for only that perfect size 3 or under!!!]
* What I think is a stray cat hair on my arm turns out to be a bug.
* Cats who love to scratch my face and beg for attention whilst I'm in the middle of doing something
* Feeling like I have a stalker who looks like the the abominable snowman had a child with a man. (it's the result of a bad dream and now I'm paranoid) (don't get me started on the deer/panther/man I saw in highschool)
* roller coasters and people who want me to ride them
* The fact I'm not riverdancing right now


Here's my card I made for clive...

posted at 12:06 AM

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