My focus has been completely shot for the past couple of days, but today's lack of attention is just ridiculous. It's starting to get unbearably frustrating.

The computer I'm using is the only computer I've ever owned. I bought The Beast, as it is affectionately called, in July of 2001. Several days after my purchase Blink 182 played at the Palace of Auburn Hills -- I didn't go, but I was probably 4 miles away from the event. As is easily surmised, my computer is ancient in the world of technology; and let me tell you, it runs like it's ancient.

I thought I would make some space on my desk (there is probably, oh, 2'x3' of usable space in my room, because of the bed, desk, bookshelves, bureau and idiotic floor plan), because it would be nice not to have a 5.6 million pound monitor (give or take) on the extremely unstable desk. We're talking San Francisco houses pancaking in my Mega Disasters-like earthquakes unstable. I mean, the upper part of the desk leans! When bars that are supposed to be supporting something are designed to go like this ||, it's disturbing when they look more like this //. IN all fairness, they can go the other way too: \\. Versatile, right? Anyway, back to the point: I thought I would create space and a safer computer environment by using my tiny HDTV as a monitor instead.

Well, SCIENCE MEANS NOT ALL DREAMS CAN COME TRUE.

Seriously.

My ancient graphics card attempted to commit seppuku about 7 hours into the experiment, to which I said "DISHONOUR! DISHONOUR ON PROSAVAGE! DISHONOUR, DISHONOUR, DISHONOUR!" It was a disheartening turn of events in an already disheartening experiment. Because even before the graphics card decided to attempt disembowelling itself before admitting defeat, it wouldn't support a widescreen format.

The old monitor is back and the graphics card is feeling foolish, but performing up to expectations.

Hey! And with very minimal cheating.

		I will marry John Oliver.
		After a wild honeymoon, We will settle down in Chicago, IL in our fabulous Apartment.
		We will have 3 kid(s) together.
		Our family will zoom around in a Purple Toyota Camry Hybrid.
		I will spend my days as a Novelist, and live happily ever after.

I have such a ridiculously massive crush on John Oliver, and I have for quite some time. I just want to smile admiringly (creepily) at him while he says hilarious things. Actually, he could just talk (perhaps recite, like, my grocery list) and I would be happy. He's just SO adorable.




THAT IS ALL.

Help a lady out here.

If by any chance you know somebody interested in writing and interested in wizards/witches/totally awesome crap, please send them here: Enchanted After All. It's all in good nerdy fun.

ALSO: I totally overheard a lady singing "That's Not My Name" in the sauna on Friday. iPods: they will not help you hear people coming into the locker room. -OR- iPods: you are probably not alone.

To my great joy, I finally had occasion to alter my LiveJournal user information to include my present job. YES. It has been deemed that I am allowed to look after impressionable youths while their teachers are out drinking margaritas and/or projectile vomiting.

I really hope I'll get at least one art day in the elementary school, because art day was undoubtedly the highlight of any given month for most students.

I am seriously looking forward to onslaught of Pam and Jim's wedding avatars that will be springing up soon. The Wedding episode really appealed to the romantic in me. It also appealed to the inner voice that always encourages me to avoid doing the splits... ever.


ALSO:

So, catintheattic, your LiveJournal reveals...

You are... 27% unique (blame, for example, your interest in zoobing), 16% peculiar, 33% interesting, 19% normal and 5% herdlike (partly because you, like everyone else, enjoy tea). When it comes to friends you are normal. In terms of the way you relate to people, you are keen to please. Your writing style (based on a recent public entry) is intellectual.

Your overall weirdness is: 51

(The average level of weirdness is: 29.
You are weirder than 87% of other LJers.)

Find out what your weirdness level is!

Clearly the entry analysed for writing style was not THIS ONE. At all.

October, otherwise known as the best month of the year, is finally here. In order to ring in the new month, I spent a very long time making pumpkin pasties. My recipe wasn't so much a recipe as it was me guessing, and to my delight the pumpkin pasties turned out really well. Tomorrow I'll finish making the little fuckers (I'm not kidding: it takes a lot of time and effort -- I managed to fill and bake 4, which were all that would fit on my stone, after pretty consistent work on them all day (making pie dough, trimming a pie pumpkin while Newt was trying to scale my face, and so on)) and probably use the left over dough to make spiced apple and pecan pockets.

I hope October in Michigan gets all of the rain out of its system at the start of the month, because I want the weather for Halloween to be perfect. I could settle for overcast on Halloween, I just want the kids to be able to have as much fun as I did when I was younger. Of course, that's pretty wishful thinking when one considers all of the frantic, over protective parents. Any kid will tell you (unless that kid is a loser), trick-or-treating > lame party hosted by school.

In celebration of the season, I'm also burning a ginger pumpkin candle, which sounds strange but smells nice. ALSO: fire.

So, happy October!

I finally updated "Rylie & Liz" yesterday, after about 5 days of having my update topic firmly in mind. Sometimes opening up GIMP just sounds an awful lot like effort. As always, I plan to update "Rylie & Liz with greater frequency; so, we'll see how long that plan lasts.

If you're the sort of person who is pretty into food porn (sure you're just reading it for the recipes...), you might like what you see over at "Vegan Crunk". I no longer recall what I searched Google for that brought me to "Vegan Crunk", but I'm glad I searched the mystery term. Even if all of the recipes aren't posted, you can get a lot of decent ideas for dinners, lunches, and snacks. Also: pictures.

My intention is to round out my accomplishments for the day by finalising my subbing paperwork. I have to make a call, because of course the packet I have is missing something vital to being hired. I think after sending out my paperwork, I will probably have about two weeks of waiting before I can work. I am ridiculously excited about working. At this point I've even started to count chickens before they're hatched! While I have complained in person to several friends about the farming out of subbing jobs, the system will make it easier for me to accumulate jobs -- less personal investment, less potential to play favourites with older subs.

FINALLY: ONLY 36 AND A HALF DAYS UNTIL HALLOWEEN.

As all of my long-time friends know: I LOVE AUTUMN. Fall is, without competition, my favourite season (followed by spring, winter, and finally summer).

In honour of autumn, I made a root roast on Tuesday night -- sweet potatoes, red skin potatoes, turnip, parsnip, onion, garlic, freshly ground black pepper, sea salt and olive oil with a bunch of fresh kale tossed in toward the end of roasting. The kale should probably have been steamed and then added in about 8 minutes or so before pulling the roots out, but I was lazy and kind of wanted some moderately crisp kale. Regardless, it was the perfect warm, heavy meal to welcome autumn.

The cooler weather of autumn never fails to put me in a better mood, and the arrival of Windows 7 in a month's time is really helping this year. FINALLY I will be able to pick up a laptop, which will allow me to waste my time on the Internet more efficiently tote my computer into spaces more conducive to productivity.

The prospect of working soon also inspires a better general mood, because I do enjoy earning money and finances are going to aid me in shirking the repayment of my student loans. Because students get to defer, and I'm hoping I'll be able to enrol (I'll be honest... I find this British spelling to be awkward) in the School of Library and Information Studies' online program at the University of Wisconsin. Failing UW, I'll apply to Wayne State and see what they can offer me as far as housing deals and campus jobs go. Rambling paragraph short: I'm feeling pretty okay about my options.

ONE.
Today I drove a truck. Not one of those wimpy trucks that are pretty much the same level as a car. Not one of those trucks that are comparable in height from the ground to an SUV. A real truck. I felt like a doll in a Barbie car at first, but eventually I found myself pretty at home behind the wheel of my father's truck. Being at ease in that situation was nice, because he has been known to NEVER let a person forget any fault they might have. He still talks about the time I was 2 years old and crapped myself because he wasn't paying attention. Somehow that's supposed to be a magically embarrassing story for me, but whatever. I got to drive a truck and it was easy.


TWO.
I saw a blue heron spring into flight and relieve itself. Trust me, this merits mentioning for sheer volume alone.


THREE.
I finally cooked decent eggplant, as many of you knew I was intending to do upon reading THIS. I ended up trying the "Very Easy and Addictive Eggplant Chips," in spirit. In actuality I cut the eggplant in eighths of an inch, added a little salt, substituted the tamari for Liquid Bragg (which I reduced to a few sprays), and broiled about two minutes after the accumulated first 20 were up. It was delicious, and I wouldn't change a thing about my alterations, save maybe using about half the salt.

About five minutes ago, while cleaning under my bureau, I unearthed an article of priceless archaeological significance. Not really, but I did find a hilarious sheet of notes that was obviously passed around between a friend and I during class. I don't know the class, and I'm not sure of the friend, but I am positive the note is from my freshman year judging by my handwriting and the friend's impressive grasp of language.

Me: We're going to get in trouble tomorrow!

Friend: so? why do i give a god damn mother fucking son of a bitch cum-licking shit?

Me: because we'll have to sit on opposite sides of the room, you crack sniffer.

Friend: oh fuck.

Actually, upon closer inspection, the note could be from my junior year. I know it's not from tenth or twelfth grade, though. I can even narrow down the classes, which makes me think the culprit year is more likely my junior. The hilarious part? All of the teachers who could have had this hilarity go on under their noses still teach at the high school.

I always want to really like eggplant entrées, but for some reason I never make them very well. I think my most successful use of eggplant was in a moussaka (MOOSE CACA?!) I made 3 years ago, and even then the eggplant portion was the part I was least enthused about. The eggplant itself is not the problem, because I've had delicious eggplant, it's just that I'm awful at preparing it.

Fast forward to yesterday (rewind? I've lost the timing of this): at the farmer's market I found a beautiful eggplant in a really pretty shade of lavender, which inspired me to purchase it. Obviously cuteness/colour is the best reason to purchase something -- the same thing happened with the adorable heirloom cherry tomatoes. NEVER MIND THAT I CONTINUALLY FAIL AT EGGPLANT (MORE LIKE FACE-PLANT, AMIRITE?)

After spending some time at my new favourite recipe source in the eggplant category, I've selected two recipes I want to try: Baked Fried Eggplant and Very Easy and Addictive Eggplant Chips. The first sounds like a veganised version of eggplant parmigiana, which I adore, and I find the use of Italian dressing rather than egg/milk to be intriguing/awesome. The second recipe sounds considerably easier and its newness is attractive. My confidence regarding the second recipe, which I will probably end up going with, is also pretty high.

Also: this Saturday seems really uneventful. I'm guessing the boring, low-key feeling has a lot to do with my past 3 Saturdays being filled with driving (Grand Rapids/Holland, Detroit, Detroit). I'm not complaining about nixing the hours and HOURS in a car, but I would like to do something entertaining and preferably not at the house.

1. If you're on my friends list, I want to know 35 things about you. I don't care if we never talk, or if we already know everything about each other. Short and sweet is fine ... you're on my list, so I want to compile a folder detailing minutiae. It's for a good reason, honest.

2. Comment here with your answers and repost the questionnaire on your own journal, IF YOU GIVE A RAT'S ASS OR ANOTHER PORTION OF A RAT'S ANATOMY ABOUT SUCH THINGS.

01) Are you currently in a serious relationship?
02) What was your dream growing up?
03) What talent do you wish you had?
04) If I bought you a drink what would it be?
05) Favourite vegetable?
06) What was the last book you read?
07) What zodiac sign are you?
08) Any Tattoos and/or Piercings? Explain where.
09) Worst Habit?
10) If you saw me walking down the street would you offer me a ride?
11) What is your favourite sport?
12) Do you have a Pessimistic or Optimistic attitude?
13) What would you do if you were stuck in an elevator with me?
14) Worst thing to ever happen to you?
15) Tell me one weird fact about you.
16) Do you have any pets?
17) What if I showed up at your house unexpectedly?
18) What was your first impression of me?
19) Do you think clowns are cute or scary?
20) If you could change one thing about how you look, what would it be?
21) Would you be my crime partner or my conscience?
22) What colour eyes do you have?
23) Ever been arrested?
24) Bottle or can soda?
25) If you won $10,000 today, what would you do with it?
26) What's your favourite place to hang out at?
27) Do you believe in ghosts?
28) Favourite thing to do in your spare time?
29) Do you swear a lot?
30) Biggest pet peeve?
31) In one word, how would you describe yourself?
32) Do you believe/appreciate romance?
33) Favourite and least favourite food?
34) Do you believe in God?
35) Will you repost this so I can fill it out and do the same for you?

Comment and I will fill out an equally exciting list of question about you! How thrilling:

a) Tell you why I friended you.
b) Associate you with something - fandom, a song, a colour, a photo, VEGETABLE, PEBBLE, INSECT, etc.
c) Tell you something I like about you.
d) Tell you a memory I have of you.
e) Ask something I've always wanted to know about you BUT AM TOO ASHAMED TO ASK IN POLITE CONVERSATION. (maybe)
f) Tell you my favourite user pic of yours.

The past week has been surprisingly eventful, but most of the events weren't fairly engaging, which results in a tiring week that is mystifyingly so.

In the past week, I have made the trip to Detroit twice and the trip back from Detroit twice. Three of those times I drove, and the last round trip occurred in a 24-hour time period (meaning about a third of one day was spent on the road). I still hate metro drivers. Detroit. Flint. It honestly does not matter. Suburban drivers still are, for the most part, total dipshits. "I have this righteously awesome idea! LET'S DRIVE 85 MPH AND ONLY LEAVE 3 FEET BETWEEN THE OTHER CARS AND MYSELF! Then we'll drive in clusters of 15 to 30 vehicles and take up all of the lanes on the freeway! TUBULAR!" I just assume most bad drivers use late 80s surfing lingo to express themselves.

On Wednesday I spent most of my time at the hospital; my father had surgery to remove bone spurs from his heel and to replace part of his eroded Achilles tendon with a tendon from his big toe. Because people tend not to tell me anything, I had no idea the surgery would take the better part of 3 and a half hours. I would have stayed the entire time regardless, but it would have been nice to know while I was sitting in the waiting area.

On the plus side of the time spent in the surgical waiting area, I did get to witness a completely fucking crazy woman, who will one day become one of my secondary characters. She and her husband were complete assholes, and I'm not exaggerating. They were acting dippy to start with, he was answering the phone in the waiting area (which he was not supposed to do) and sitting behind the desk while she pranced about him and suggestively all but shouted "OOO CAN I SIT IN YOUR LAP?" He wasn't too thrilled with her, but she was very thrilled with him. She kind of flipped out when she couldn't spend the first first fifteen minutes of the surgical process (evaluation, slipping into the lovely hospital nightie) him. The woman kept trying to get past the volunteers, then she decided she wanted to watch Fox News because it at least had "half truths," and she watched C-SPAN (not that she knew the channel's name... at all... or could provide specific references) so she knew every other news agency in the world was like the "opposite news!" I made the mistake of catching another woman's eyes, and we almost burst out laughing at the crazy lady's display, because it was most definitely meant as a show for everybody.

Other than the driving and the various times spent at the hospitals, it seems like I spent a lot of time picking blueberries. The last day I picked blueberries was fantastic! The guy at the stand out front did not really seem to care where I went, so I found a gloriously unpicked row. It was a bit like walking through a blueberry jungle, but the picking was easy and I only had to go down about a third of the row to fill my pail. The first day of picking blueberries I'll make a separate entry for, because it was mildly hilarious.

Finally, last week was exciting, even though I had plenty of chore-like activities to do, because I had the house to myself. There wasn't any smoking, snoring (at least, there wasn't any for me to hear...), Food Network shows, or 9&10 News. I got to make dinner when I felt like it and I even rented scary films for a mini-marathon. I love living by myself. LOVE.

I just sent this message to notabadcat:

I'm really hoping we'll be able to catch each other sometime when you're online/not sleeping/not working/not beating teenagers and I'm not driving to/from Detroit, trying desperately not to beat Newt, doing laundry (as Newt thought it would be an AWESOME idea to pee (I don't think I would call it "puddling," but perhaps "laking" or even "oceaning") on my leg, while I was in bed sleeping), spending time at the hospital, fighting the desire to slowly shake Newt until he fucking learns to use a goddamn litter box, or trying to contain my rage to avoid throwing Newt into Lake Michigan... because - quite frankly - it's weird not talking about boy on boy with you at least once a week.

Honestly, "pissed ON" might be better phrasing for my current mood.

While dinking around over at Facebook, I found this little gem: a Praying for the Muslim World event. The event page was inspired by this bullshit: 30 Days of Prayer Network. It's hilariously stupid and arrogant. However, who can't laugh about the new, shiny virtual crusades? Because obviously being a total prat and assuming your religion is the bestest, number one coolest, truthiest religion EVER is definitely not a way to alienate people. At all.

I'm tempted to join just post to the event's wall, "this is SUCH an awesome joke, guys. I lol'ed for five minutes at your brilliant satirising of Holy Rollers!"

This really makes me wish a group of Muslims would create a similar event during Lent: pray for the Christians... that they may accept the true religion and God.

Just imagine the uproar and indignation.

Thinking on it, I'm sure there is such an event. I'm apparently just not cool enough to have religious nuts from religions other than Christianity and Paganism on my friends list. Obviously I need to broaden my horizons.

As a child I was really interested in "The Great Mouse Detective," which I saw only once at my aunt's house. I loved the name Basil and the dark, foggy, London mysteriousness. I certainly could not tell you what the film was about, but the visuals have still remained firmly engrained. I suspect my memory was robbed by the mystery of Scotland Yard.

For the longest time I thought Scotland Yard was filled with Scottish people who solved mysteries. I associated the Scottish with tartan and detectives/law enforcement. The Scottish, in my book, were clever badasses. Eventually the veil was lifted and the wonder of Scotland Yard was no more. My opinion of the Scottish eventually fell, too -- simply because of the whole "lawl Northern England" thing the Lowlanders dug during the days of empire. "Repreeeessss! Repress, repress, REEEEEEPREEEEESSSSSS! Other cultures! AFRICA! IRELAND! Even that of our fellow Scots in the Highlands!"

I still find it disappointing that Scotland Yard is not an enclave of Scottish crime solvers. From the highlands.

When I was younger (we're talking maybe 11 years old) I made the mistake of reading a book on the paranormal while in bed. The book, which I checked out from the local library, promised to be kind of scary with its purported accounts of real ghostly encounters. I did not get past the introduction, because there were several paragraphs about ghosts having sex with people while they were sleeping. Horrified, I feel asleep with my knees locked together in order to make sure a ghost did not get it on with me in the wee hours of the night.

My rationality kicked in a few nights later and my anxiety about ghost peen diminished.

All these years later, I sometimes still get weirded out while undressing. Not because I'm worried a ghost is waiting to pounce. I honestly don't even know where I am with ghosts and the paranormal; I'm not rational enough to dismiss the concept completely, but so much of the "evidence" and "experience" is difficult for me to swallow because of my fondness for SCIENCE. Regardless of logical thought processes, possibly because I'm human, I can sometimes give myself a pretty convincing line of mental what-ifs.

Now, I cannot be the only person who occasionally falls victim to entertaining very mild paranoia of POSSIBLY being watched during private times by ghosts. Even if you have convinced yourself that ghosts do not exist, I think the human mind really easily jumps to the potential for weird/scary/awkward situations.

What's worse is when you filter in all the stories you grew up with about so and so watching over you. Then, when in a very imaginative mood, it is so easy to stumble over "HOLY SHIT I DON'T WANT MY GRANDFATHER TO WATCH ME HAVE SEX WITH SOME DUDE." Not that I think he would watch it, but what if he popped in accidentally and caught an eyeful? He was a reasonable dude, ran a library, bought me a lot of nice books when I was really little, and definitely not the type to get all worked up about the normal processes humans go through. That does not make the idea any less awkward.

If there are ghosts, there should be some sort of ghostly code of ethics/laws/magic/I don't care, I just don't want peeping Tom ghosts/voodoo that prevents them spying on naked people.

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While wandering around Walmart (evil? Yes. Let's face it: the poor oppressing the poor is evilly brilliant), on the way to the pet department, I passed the training bras. One of the tags caught my eye, specifically the brand: SWEET NOTHINGS. Hilarious. It's a line that has bras for adults, too, but that does not take away any of the amusement. At all.

Sweet Nothings manages to sound not just horribly insulting, but overtly paedophile inspired, thus disturbing. I just picture some sleazy and insanely creepy middle aged and lecherous CEO sitting in his boardroom while slavering ever so slightly. "Let's call 'em sweet nothings!" as he dreams of tasty of lolis. Paedobear would be proud/is that CEO.

Let me just start by asserting that I have nothing against normal physical activity and exercise. Exercising is an excellent way to avoid seeing a therapist or, Godzilla forbid, somebody pretending I'm their therapist. I seriously did not study psychology for a reason, namely my tendency to be impatient and roll my eyes a lot while making unnecessarily caustic comments.

People who talk about their physical fitness results and/or regimen to no goddamn end are just a pain in the ass to deal with. I'm not talking about the people who mention going off to yoga or attempting to find exercise they enjoy. I'm not even talking about the people who try to fit a regular exercise routine into their schedule and casually mention it in conversation. I'm talking about the people who bring up their bodies in conversation at stupid and/or awkward times in an effort to be appealing. Not only are their motives fairly blatant given the context of most of these conversations, they're exceptionally annoying because an assumption has to be made about the sort of person I am.

Men who do that are my specific targets here, simply because I have yet to meet a woman who has attempted to hit on me by talking about how sore her quads are from her last work out. "Yeah, I squat and thrust a lot." It's 2009, not 1009. Your attempt to display how awesome your genes and ability to protect me and our future progeny fails to inspire a surge of heat in my loins. However, it does inspire impatient sighs and calculations as to how quickly I can end the encounter. In the event of a post-nuclear fall out and limited selection of gene pools, we'll talk.

I am aware of women attempting the same bullshit with guys. In either case it screams insecurity or arrogance. Let us remember Gaston sang a song about his physical prowess, and he was a total bag of dicks. I totally echo Belle here: "Madame Gaston, can't you just see it? Madame Gaston, his little wife. No, sir, not me, I guarantee it."

Never did I imagine "Jon and Kate Plus Eight" would result in my new favourite - AND LAZY because it's easy to make and requires little effort in the morning - breakfast.

"Jon and Kate Plus Eight" is not, nor will it ever be part of my regular television viewing. The show kills my soul a little each time I watch it, because I feel so sorry for those poor kids. NEITHER Jon nor Kate is particularly inspiring or even moderately likeable. Kate needs some Xanax four years ago and Jon needs to pull his head out of his ass at least once in a while. They are a terrible match; possibly a worse match than my parents, which is saying an awful lot. That said, sometimes while channel surfing, you come across a train wreck and cannot for the life of you avert your attention.

Sara Snow made an appearance on the episode I happened to stop on, and in that episode she taught Kate this recipe: Healthy Oatmeal Cookie Snacks. Intrigued, I fired up Google and did a search for the recipe, only to stumble over Sara Snow's website. While looking around, I found my current and beloved breakfast: Energy Sustaining Breakfast Bars. They are for all intensive purposes kind of like gooey, lower sugar no-bakes, and I LOVE no-bakes. I added a quarter cup of raw pumpkin seeds to mine to boost the zinc and give them a little more crunch. The next time I make them (which I won't have to do for about two weeks) I plan to add in a quarter cup of sunflower seeds in addition to the added pumpkin seeds.

The moral of the story: channel surfing is good and Jon and Kate's messy marriage still resulted in one good thing. I doubt their children will ever share my sentiment, but excuse me for trying to play Pollyanna to their pain and suffering.

FACT: this post was mostly entirely an excuse to use the new Anne Taintor inspired icon I made.

Thanks to the brilliant suggestion of downwardlashes, I put up the cash for two months of a paid account. I really am grateful for her suggestion, because it allowed me to save about three or so days of work by altering the security level of my old journal entries in less than two minutes. Even better: I could change my mind about the security preference; which allowed me to select what I think is the perfect combination of covering up those stupid, moony pre-May of 2004 entries. I finally ended up making everything before 2006 (or was it 2005? Something like that...) private and everything between that date and May of 2008 friends only.

I honestly can't justify going friends only totally. My plan for this journal still involves taking it back in order to make it more personal.

Back to the point! Paid accounts are overrated. While I enjoy the ability to alter the security of my entries en mass, it's not something I need access to on a regular basis. Voice posts simply are not appealing to me, rarely does the insatiable desire to create a poll hit me, and I most certainly would not want to host my personal photographs on the LiveJournal server. The only regular incentive that appeals to me is the option to host up to 30 user pictures. I don't think I could justify the payments for 30 icons considering that I would actually end up using only 10 or so.

On the other hand, I have been having a lot of fun with the greater interest/journal/region/whatever search capabilities. In fact, I NEARLY added a person from Shreve, Ohio simpbly because she was from Shreve, Ohio. I decided not to add because "MY FAMILY HAS A FARM NEAR SHREVE AND I GO THERE AT LEAST ONCE EVERY YEAR AND MY DOG GETS CHASED BY THE COWS!" is not really the best basis for adding new LiveJournal friends. Ever.

Oh, and the friend of friends list is also kind of intriguing for some mysterious reason.

Please add me back. You are all added to my list but, in an attempt to get rid of the friends I had removed ages ago because their journals were never updated, I accidentally removed myself from your friends lists. OF COURSE, if you want to take this opportunity to leave me unfriended, that's cool.

2 weeks sounds like a fair period to wait for refriending, right?

I'm going to go back to my corner and continue facepalming now.

Much to my delight, changing a livejournal account name is not $160. Upon further speculation, I believe that was the price of purchasing a permanent (or whatever) journal. While I think $10 would have been a fairer price for the change, $15 wasn't so bad. I would pay the same amount of money for a nice journal at Barnes and Noble, if I were the sort to actually write in journals. This journal account also has something a new one wouldn't: 7 years of mortifying history!

( Orignal 'LAWL NEW JOURNAL' Post, before I just paid the big bucks to change this account's name )

I pretty much made that entry just to write down some books I wanted to check out. Hard-boiled Wonderland and the End of the World by Haruki Murakami and We by Robert A. Johnson.

Ever since I saw "Dick" about a decade ago, I have adored it. There honestly is not a thing I would change about the film. The music, the actors, the story, the jokes, the quote-worthiness, the Ryan Reynolds -- everything is perfect. To this day I fail to comprehend the film's lack of blatant popularity, because it is seriously fantastic.

Speaking of fantastic, I've decided that I really want to work in a bar more than I want to do a lot of other jobs. I can't honestly pinpoint the what preoccupation with barmaid occupation is, but I've harboured it for a long time. I think it just seems like it would be more fun than working in an office. Also: I'm pretty sure a lot of owners keep baseball bats behind the bar in case of over celebratory customers, and I'm sorry but that's awesome. I've narrowed down the local bars I would consider, careful to ensure I skipped all of the yuppie bars. Of the local pubs I've considered, one had a stabbing about ten years, so that's pretty exciting. Anyway, I think I'm sassy enough to pull off working in a bar.

YES, I still plan to substitute teach. Two jobs would be better than one, though. And one job that would entail work year-round is even better. I'm hoping that I can pay off my student loans in a timely manner -- potentially while incurring more! Fortunately, an information science degree is something you really can't go wrong with.

So, that's what I'm up to. That and traipsing out to the garage to find my window fan. Ah, summer.

Don't take too long to think about it. List 15 books you've read that will always stick with you -- The first 15 you can recall in 15 minutes.

1. Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
2. His Dark Materials trilogy - Philip Pullman
3. Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell - Susanna Clarke
4. Atonment - Ian McEwan
5. Nights at the Circus - Angela Carter
6. Stardust - Neil Gaiman
7. The Daydreamer - Ian McEwan
8. Flowers for Algernon - Daniel Keyes
9. All Quiet on the Western Front - Erich Maria Remarque
10. The Historian - Elizabeth Kostova
11. Memoirs of a Geisha - Arthur Golden
12. Matilda - Roald Dahl
13. Emma - Jane Austen
14. The Last Unicorn - Peter S. Beagle
15. Things Fall Apart - Chinua Achebe

About a week ago I purchased a cheap, baby blueish (not my preference, but the red one had gears and cost $79 more) coaster bike. My intention in purchasing the bicycle was to provide myself with something that would be kind of an automotive substitute. I definitely had NO intention of ever taking the bike out on the highways or even the roads with increased speed limites, I just wanted something to ride around the city.

I didn't really bother to try it out until Monday, when I decided I would take a ride around the north end of the city.

Holy shit.

Did I EVER underestimate the amount of energy needed to propel an adult body into motion.

As a kid riding a bike was so easy -- it was just a metal extension of your own body and you could do death-defying (or coma/paralysis defying) stunts, like riding with one hand, no hands, wheelies, and a myriad of additional stupid human tricks. I can remember riding my bike all day without any signs of being terribly tired or very worked. Somehow one of the most satisfying parts of childhood is directly connected with your bike and the thrills and freedom it provides.

That was not the case in my first bike experience as an adult. I managed to bike several blocks before I realised I was very tired, my muscles where tense and sore, and I was in need of turning around. Mind you, this was after regaining my bicycle equilibrium, because it's true that you don't forget to ride a bike, but the adage neglects to mention how weird you'll feel after a decade and a half sans bike. Bicycles are high and they can go pretty fast on top of not being used to balancing an adult body on an adult bike. The experience was strange, but now I'm fairly over it.

Another thing: I never in a million years thought I would miss wearing a helmet. When I was buying my bike I looked at the helmets, but the cheapest adult version was out of stock. I had refused to pay $25 to "look like a total dork" (a helmet on a regular bike? Sure. On a coaster bike? lol wut?), so I haven't been wearing a helmet on my daily fifteen minute -- LAME, I know -- rides. When I go to the store next, I will definitely be picking up a helmet regardless of its cost. I really enjoy breathing on my own and moving my limbs at will.

I enjoy riding my bike, and I like that I don't have to lean over the handle bars like I would have with my last 10-speed. It's just really difficult to not slap on "RIDICULOUS" when I picture myself riding.

I am so unbelievably tired of the assholes who adopt cynical and jaded attitudes because they are convinced their misery is the only real thing in life. Or because they somehow believe their hatred is funnier than a pile of dead babies with one eating its way out. I understand how sweet and totally rad it is not to give a fuck about the world or the people in it, but just jump off a bridge already. Seriously.

People like that should either seek serious psychiatric assistance or stop being lazy bastards. It's easy to stop caring. It's easy to blame the world for how much you hate everything. It's easy to believe "that's just how things are -- the world is cruel." That attitude is unbelievably lazy and one I disrespect completely.

We shape society. You and me. Everybody. Without people, human society would obviously cease to exist. This means we all play a part in society: we create our society just as much as it creates us. Nobody is exempt. Our choices, voices, and actions give definition to the wild collective of our human world. Just because change isn't instant, doesn't mean it's inevitable or ineffectual. Every interaction further defines what society was, is, and will become. Giving up is completely ridiculous in a world with so many options. That attitude stinks much in the way stagnant water does.

This is not to say I don't understand taking a break or getting frustrated with the state of the world and society. I do. Sometimes life can hurt, and at those times people need to try and heal that hurt. However, to become a permanent wound on the side of humanity is something else entirely in addition to being unforgivably irresponsible.

I care. SO LAME.

The one about the clones.

In typical Liz fashion, I had a difficult time keel-hauling the board I really loved in favour of the board founded completely on whim. Actually, I suspect that fashion is typical to most people, so I really can't tow the line of uniqueness here.

ANYWAY, we are still looking for interested parties to join in on the fun and games. If you enjoy Harry Potter and "True Blood" in addition to liking comedy and writing, I would encourage you to wander over to Enchanted After All..., take a look around, and then sign up. Also: we talk about cats and sparkle peen more than anybody should. It's nice.

I might make a real update sometime in the future. And it might have pictures of my new bike.

I recently (I think it was yesterday afternoon...) decided to revamp and open my completely awesome clones of historical figures RPG. The game is pretty low key and requires minimal effort for a fair amount of laughter. At least, that was the way things always were in theory -- the few members of that board and I opted to focus our efforts into a different game, leaving our "Clone University" game to gather dust.

Anyway, if you're interested in a plot that starts out, "'They'll never suspect us, eh?'," hop on over to the board and consider registering an account.

On an entirely unrelated note, I am happily back in Ludington. The lake is very exciting and the cooler weather is much appreciated. Also: having my own bedroom is pretty nifty.

I'm too busy to appropriately journal for, like, 2 and half weeks and several more accounts have converted to Twitter? I never thought of myself as a picky Livejournal type, until I considered all of the things I dislike reading -- Twitter being my current number one.

Bitching aside, I am (obviously) still alive, and have not been driven insane by my family. YET. That's not for a lack of trying, though.

In other news, Spring is spinning its evil spell around me. My symptoms have so far included being moony over the absolute stupidest bullshit. It's also making me miss the lake, because I like northern Michigan in the spring (and summer, autumn, and winter).

I just realised that I don't have the attention span to really write anything. So, the shirt has to go, but you can stay.

In the early 90s, my mother broke her right ankle.

Almost 2 years ago, I broke my right ankle.

On Friday, my aunt broke her right ankle. However, my aunt is a pro when it comes to bone crushing, as it would seem, and managed three breaks.

I've disappeared from the Internet because, being the only mentally stable family member without gainful employment (mentally stable and family member may be an oxymoron), I volunteered to come down state and take care of her.

So far the experience has been pretty okay. For the first two or so weeks of this venture, I'm living in my younger cousin's room. He's coming home from school at the end of April, which means I'll probably move to an air mattress in the living room. I can live with that, but I do know I tend to get worked up more easily when I don't have a little space to get away from everything for a moment. That being said, my uncle is inadvertently assisting me in getting used to the "no space" concept, because my cousin's room is a "Man Cave" (so funny) of sorts, and he's having a very hard time (I think...) giving it up.

Anyway, that's what I've been up to these past five days.

I like cemeteries and graveyards. I'm not a body snatcher, goth, or obsessed with death (also: see "goth"), there's just something that seems meaningful to me about the slowly decaying headstones when compared to the slowly decaying memory of the people they were erected to honour. Brief phallic imagery aside, the lost histories and memories also create a mystery that permeates the experience of visiting a graveyard. I like looking at the various symbols, names, and occasionally artistry -- I only say "occasionally" because the local cemetery has a lot of the weirdly modern headstones with plastic and metallic paint, which are not at all romantic.

From the time I decided to click the "cemeteries" link in my interests, I knew I had made a mistake attempting to pursue this interest on LiveJournal. The few communities I bothered to look at, despite mind-withering descriptions, were so dark and filled with forced foreboding. In such a blatantly constructed atmosphere, I kind of think the topic gets lost in the manufactured gloom. I have absolutely no interest in joining those communities, and that sentiment would likely swing both ways from the perspective of Jane Doe (Morgana Wraithscloak?) community member. It's disappointing, because I would have enjoyed looking at various gravestones from around the world.

I think I'll just stick with checking out "Grave Addiction" for the time being. I am something of a Dug Hole fangirl anyway.

TO my credit, it has been about two and a half years since my last AIM screen name change. That is easily more than twice as long as any other screen names have lasted. Let's observe a moment of silence for TheSparklyPirate (which will still be functional until I unlink it in May).

Enough that.

The new SN: thecatintheattic

If you add me, you need to send me a message or post a comment with your AIM SN. Why? I'm one of those asshats with the "only people from your buddy list may contact you" option enabled. Why? At this point in my life it takes WAY too much effort to attempt being nice to trolls and men who desperately feel the need to send me pictures of their penises.

I don't know about anybody else, but I never EVER read Twitter updates people make in their LiveJournals; which becomes problematic when eventually only Twitter updates start rolling in. Not only do I find Twitter exceptionally annoying because the 140 word format usually translates to "boring shit without any attempt at sprucing its Spartan phrasing up, NEVER MIND PUTTING ANY EFFORT INTO A COHESIVE ENTRY LAWL!" I also take issue with the invasion of other sites.

In all fairness, my objection to Twitter may have a lot to do with how I relate to technology and accessibility in general. I do not need to be connected CONSTANTLY. Hell, at least a third of the time I still -- 6 years later -- forget to bring my mobile phone with me when I leave the house. If people call while I'm with somebody or eating, I won't answer the phone (IT'S RUDE. AND UNLESS IT'S AN EMERGENCY, IF YOU ANSWER THE PHONE IN A RESTAURANT OR WHEN YOU'RE WITH SOMEBODY ELSE VISTING, YOU'RE RUDE). Honestly, if people could wait before the advent of mobile phones, they can wait now. This attitude most certainly is a factor in my increasing distaste for Twitter. I'm not a technophobe, I simply resent the intrusions modern conveniences make easier.

THEN there are the Twitter conversations that you only see one side of, unless a mutual friend has decided to subject you to their ragingly stupid, scrambled daily itinerary with no fewer than 20 entries chronicling things like "13:41 I ate a pastrami sandwich!; 14:02 I have bad gas!; 14:58 I THINK I JUST SHARTED!; 18:27 The news is such a bummer!; 21:54 The Closer is about to close! GOOOO BRENDA!!!!" Twitter as well.

Twitter is one bandwagon I'm not hopping on.

But tell me more about pixel advertising!

In an effort to get my ass in gear concerning writing (working on a doubtlessly pretentious and terribly self-indulgent -- I READ ANGELA CARTER BOOKS IN ADDITION TO IAN MCEWAN, OKAY?! -- screen play AND a silly book), I've decided to start scheduling my days. If nothing else, it at least makes me feel important. Let's face it: feeling important is half of the struggle of writing anything, because what is actually a lame idea that is completely mock-worthy also seems important (and probably, like, totally deep... you don't even KNOW) in respect to your own self-importance.

Even if this schedule business is ultimately an exercise in futility, at least I'm doing stuff I should have been doing all along. Interestingly enough (if you're me, because I always find myself interesting), this tactic can work for about a two weeks. Budgeting time in list form was the only way I ever managed to finish my senior thesis.

Also: "Rylie & Liz" has an update, however brief it is.

If you take a viral stroll over to the o. b. site, you can get a free sample of o. b. tampons along with a nifty storage pack for your purse/backpack/pocket/saddlebags/whatev.

Because I'm one quarter Dutch stereotypes, I just can't pass up a deal like that, and thought I would share with the interested parties on my friends list. The delivery is 6-8 weeks, so you university students living in residency can possibly even scam two. Yes, I am kind of jealous.