they're just fucking with my mind

in an unprecedented (and previously believed impossible) show of efficiency, the ins (now the cis, but i know from experience that changing a name while maintaining the same or higher level of bureaucratic red tape and exceptionally bad customer assistance means they the same old shitty ins) actually sent my new green card in the mail months before i expected them to take care of it. of course, due to their new "appointment" system that's absolute bullshit, it still wasn't taken care of in time to guarantee i'd be able to go home for carnival and it's too late to get a ticket now on my budget, but as they rudely informed me, they don't care how much my life is disrupted or about the fact that i was unable to travel, even for a family emergency. if i did have an emergency, it would be up to their discretion whether my emergency warranted an appointment- sounds like the same old shitty ins to me.
i think the only reason it came so fast was that they knew what assholes they'd been to me on the phone (3times just for this single appoinment, not counting the other times i had to speak to those assholes in the past few years) and at the counter (he was a prick in the way that only a man with a small one can be) when i finally got an appointment after weeks of trying because their system only books 2weeks in advance, in spite of the fact that time is infinite. i woulda taken an appointment for a slot 3months away just to know i had one, but instead you have to keep trying repeatedly until your attempt coincides with their system adding a new calendar day to the appointment book, and hope you get there before everybody else. and of course, they don't know what time the new day is added...
anyway, the card is here. ugly, and later than it shoulda been (they gave me a file-by date for my paperwork which i complied with, then months later sent me a notice saying they'd need up to one year to process it- clearly the same old shitty ins), but here. so i'll shut up about it already.
zed's home for her 2week carnival vacation. i'm suitably jealous, being as the temperature here is cruel and inhumane.
this is lame.
i think i need some dinner.
walk good.

ben's coming out

ben's blog blew me away...
found this accidentally, but this youth (13) is apparently aware that he's gay, trying to reconcile his desires with his religious leanings, trying to navigate the hell that is puberty and high school, and has previously written stuff that he went back and unpublished because he thought maybe it wasn't right to be discussing that stuff online. among the things still there are hints of his sexual exploration with boys, but i guess he's trying to keep it vague(r)...or maybe he hasn't actually done as much as unpublishing a blog might suggest- he is, after all, just 13, so it may seem like a bigger deal to him than to me...
the good person in me is touched by his exploration and would love to offer him some encouragement if i knew how to without freaking him out, and the voyeur/writer in me is greedily peeking through the window he's provided, to get a view of something i never have or will experience. i wish he hadn't unpublished stuff before i found it, but i'm still intrigued, and find myself checking him daily. he gets comments on almost every post from the same 2 people, but i have no idea if anybody else he knows is aware he's blogging.
i went to his website (link from blog) and found his list of rules his mom made him promise to obey before she'd agree to his having his own website and blog- it's a life so removed from my own...
anyway, this youth really got me. i hope he makes it through relatively unscathed.

walk good.
ps: the timestamp on this is 24hours off because i wrote the post then kept it as a draft without publishing because i was torn about whether i should tell people about his ongoing journey or not, but then figured he knows his blog is openly available online...

morgan freeman's balls

because i love random information, i've decided to subject other people to it too.
i learned today that morgan freeman, when his character had to age 20years over the course of driving miss daisy, used a technique taught to him by a teacher years before: walk like your balls are glass christmas-tree ornaments.
and he loves the work 'fuck' in all its forms, and named his boat afrodisiac (specifically spelled with an 'f'). i like him even more now.
walk good.

20 toes, less 10...

so it snowed again last night and again this morning, and i had enough al-fuckin-ready! doesn't help that it keeps bringing me back to the sad fact that my toes are the only ten under the blanket, in weather clearly made only for one thing. and yes, i could do it by myself, but i got married specifically so that would no longer be necessary, so this weather is killing me!

alright. on to other things. alex says he's going to post a list of his favourite booby-traps for us, so i'm all excited. and now that i've said it publicly (aye! anything more than one qualifies as public, and i'm one, so you're public) he has to actually do it...thank you un-cle alex!
and if anybody else has ideas, you now have a forum...

completely different topic: the jeff corwin experience on animal planet is the best! i was watching him again last night, and remembered the episode with the goats in the trees, and the one where he got stampeded by a herd of elephants and the one(s) where he ran away from the monkeys (he'll cuddle and kiss poisonous snakes, but is terrified of monkeys- gets nervous if they even look in his direction). and he's a horrible driver, and such a klutz, and talks to animals as characters from star wars, and dances with wolves, literally...need i say more?
if you haven't been watching him you should check him out.

new different topic: jason suggested that i post the information i gathered on how to skin human beings (which is different from skinning other animals for biological reasons i find very interesting) and i'm considering it, but don't know if anybody else would find it interesting- i mean, it's not about the skinning part, it's about the human body.
so anyway, the point is, if you're one of the few people who read this feel free to offer an opinion on the value, or lack thereof, of this information, and if you're jason, it's a maybe...

walk good. stay warm.

laundromat of evolution

having read the comments on the dirty laundry post, i must amend my previous statements, because i hadn't considered the fools who put their laundry in, walk away, get caught up, and forget it for hours. these people do not deserve forgiveness. in these cases, one may be forced into the delicate situation of removing strangers' undies, even though this is not the kind of thing one would usually do. exceptions must occasionally be made- at least until natural selection rids us of these awful, incompetent launderers forever, and for such exceptions i highly recommend the proverbial 10-foot-pole, maybe with a hook on one end.

on a related evolutionary note, i had a friend who advocated booby-trapping the world to hasten/aid natural selection. his best friend of more than 20 years is someone he referred to as being "borderline mentally challenged", "barely functional", or when he was pressed for time, simply "retarded". he said that being friends with this "idiot" made him realise that some people just shouldn't be allowed to survive, far less to breed, and he believed that some simple, well-placed booby-traps along life's more travelled avenues would help weed out the stupid, the physically inept (i might be in trouble unless i start dancing again right quick) and other potential darwin-award-winners.
so i'm thinking of designing some booby-traps (i love saying booby-traps! how often do you get to say booby-trap? booty-trap?) to save mankind from the long-term effects of a genepool diluted by weak mental faculties. the system will be put into effect to combat the dumbing-down and over-protection of our youth that's fast becoming an imminent danger to the survival of the human race.

walk good.
or else!

airing dirty laundry in public...

so after what i said about teachers last night, we had one today, on a morning far, far too cold, who didn't ignore the importance of fight call, but who was overly chatty, and seemed to delight in showing off her students to us. i think she thought we were there for her as much as for them.
anyway, shakespeare aside, what really prompted this post was an email from alyincali that reminded me of something that always bothered me in college and apartments i lived in between my parents' house and this one: what is it about dirty laundry that makes some people desperate enough to handle a complete stranger's underwear? i've never pulled another person's clothing out of a washer or dryer so i could get mine in faster, because i'm not touching other people's laundry. and quite frankly, when somebody else had done that with mine, i was tempted to re-wash the whole load- i don't trust that any stranger's hands are clean enough to meet my standards, or that their laundry is either, so i consider any underwear, unless it's mine and i washed it myself, dirty. there should be no question. and once somebody i don't know touches my panties, they're officially dirty again. call me paranoid, but my vagina's important to me. i try to take good care of her and keep her clean...
alright. now i've said the word vagina. i think i should go.
walk good. keep your hair curly and your panties clean, man.

big willie shakespeare's the man

tonight i'm tired, but feeling productive. i got through revisions on 3 short stories today, and have actually done everything i need to for the night, so i can go to bed at a "reasonable" hour for a change (i.e. before 5am) and be out the door by 7.30am for shakespeare tomorrow. some real sleep would be nice before facing the kiddies. lower risk of manslaughter that way.
as much as i love my shakespeare gig, i'm not sure how i do it, since i'm clearly not a morning person and definitely not a small-talk-with-the-teacher-person. when we get to schools, some teachers seem to prefer chatting about our 'actor' lives (which i hate passionately, especially early in the morning) over actors' fight call (yes, this is a generalisation, and i agree, not all teachers are so oblivious) and either scare the kids into non-participation (under the guise of discpline), or consider our performance+workshop a free period and sit back, refusing to do anything to help control 'disruptive elements' (again, i ackowledge the generalisation).
besides which, in the wake of 9/11, more and more d.c. area schools require visitor sign-in, which means we have to go to the office, which frankly, brings back too many un-fond memories of my own school days. i don't need to be anywhere near a principal's office. i done my time. but i adore the gig, so i guess it must be the students- it being shakespeare doesn't hurt either- i can't lie, it's a fun show with a fun cast, and it's cool to watch young people get excited about this dude. it's time his work was made more accessible.
anyway, this is a night for brevity. or tomorrow morning, instead of being the witty kate wielding rapier+dagger (taming of the shrew) i might find myself delivering something more like "my flocks feed not, my ewes breed not, my rams speed not, all is amiss...", wielding nothing but lukewarm coffee+donut. and contrary to what one might think after seeing us make some student perform romeo's death monolgue as darth vader or a cheerleader, that's just not in the curriculum this season.
walk good.

ps: i do, however, take exception to romeo+juliet, for while it is a fine play due to their (mostly his) fabulous friends (mercutio wins), the title characters are among the lamest i've come across anywhere. and having been juliet several times, i'd like to take this opportunity to say that she needs to get a grip, and her romeo needs to grow some balls. for 2people to be so whipped before they do it, is ridiculous. i have to keep reminding myself that they're only teenagers to stop myself from rushing juliet into suicide to put us all out of her personality-less misery.

pps: i actually got one of my few religion-conscious friends to read the erotic story i gave the link for, and she survived it! i'm thrilled to continue to contribute to the corruption of ayanna!

ppps: on a personal note, it's kinda lame having this long stretch of 20-toes-weather without the 2nd 10toes nearby more often. i'd sleep more if they were. but i suppose if i wanna continue being a kept woman, i can't complain about him working...

pppps: i still have curly hair!

conspiracy theory

the time has come for me to admit to my friends and family that i am sometimes paranoid and enjoy conspiracy theories, mostly because i don't trust any government anywhere to ever do the right thing. i believe that all institutions of power are more concerned with maintaining (or improving their share in) the balance of power, and are too willing to use and abuse information as the means to meet their ends. knowledge is power, and they don't want us to have any.
that said, the link i added today (as 'perspective?') leads to a very interesting blog that grims introduced me to, and while i'm not calling this dude a conspiracy theorist, i'm intrigued by his take on things. he seems to be trying to be as well-informed as possible, and i like that. he's got links to alternative news sources and other cool stuff i'm checking out to hear more of the non-government-propaganda side of the story, since the media either don't know or won't tell...
walk good. keep safe, like selassie i briefcase.

the wonderful wizards of...

jake was so right- the wizards are a total heart-attack team. they play like it doesn't matter for the first 3quarters, then in the 4th they jump up, score a blizzard of points and win it. but at least, unlike the redskins, they win it. this year, anyway- for the first time since i was 1year old, they may have a chance to win it for real...so says jake, sports pundit.
i was a little sad though, that iverson seemed to be out sick.
but we had a great time, then got together with our significant others afterwards for a drink, and i found out that jake+jen's living in sin actually started last weekend...grownup indeed.
finally found alex's blog, so i'm still rediscovering friends. i like this blog thing. now i actually know what (some of) my friends are thinking and feeling, instead of just catching up on the details of their living, job, and relationship situations. i took far too long to get here.

anyway, i'm off. i have to try and get some sleep- i have shakespeare early friday morning, and i been saying goodnight when the sun saying good morning whole week. it doesn't help that last night i went to bed after 5am, then got a phone call @ 7.45am that so excited me that i got all disoriented, thought it was late morning and jumped out of bed, took my birth control and washed my face while on the phone. then when i hung up and went back to the bedroom to hug grims, i realised the real time but was too wide awake to fall out again.
so i been sleepy all day (dozing off and on like i have dropsy) and here i am again, approaching 4.30am and not in bed. but now i'm not sleepy, and neither is he (although if we went to bed and tried to force the issue, he'd be out in seconds and i'd be stuck staring at the ceiling. he is definitely not plagued with insomnia) and i blogging and he playing fifa so is not like we not doing stuff we enjoy...
it's hard to go to bed when you not sleepy and having fun and the waking up early morning is still one more morning away. but i know tomorrow night into friday morning will be miserable if i don't start making some sort of effort to adjust my body clock- but then it's prob'ly too late already, considering the time now...
oh well. i'll try not to kill children in my crankiness on friday...at least it's shakespeare...

walk good.

not for the religious or faint of heart

somehow, in my rage against the machine, i forgot this great piece of (short+sweet) erotic literature i came across today. if you think you're ready to learn how to give head in the men's bathroom of the church you were baptized, given first communion, and confirmed in, then clean sheets has lesson #1 for you...
aye, a girl's gotta do something while she's on hold with the transunion bastards...
walk good.

my credit is no credit to my person

i just got off the phone with transunion. lame.
i recently applied to have my co-borrwer's name removed from my student loans, since she's not paying them (only her responsibility on paper) and she needs to free up her personal finances. i'm all for it, and i been paying it for 4 years, on time every time. but my request was denied on the basis of my credit report- specifically my credit score, which is somehow over 100 points lower than a year ago, even though i'm in better shape financially!
now when i called for my free copy of the report that i'm entitled to because it caused the denial of my request, there was no person to speak to, and the machine wouldn't let me get my credit score for free, along with my free report. so i was already pissed, because you supposed to be able to see (for free) why you were denied. so what the fuck, right?!
but i got the report anyway, then called with a multitude of questions about it. and the first dude i speak to tells me their system's down, and he can only answer general questions- nothing specific about my case. he says call back in an hour. an hour! and when i pointed out that they'd be closed in an hour, he says try in 45 and hope for the best. so i'm more pissed. but i try again, and their system's up and running, so i start asking questions. the second dude is in no way able to interpret the information he sees in my file in front of him. all he can do is read shit to me, that i've already read in my copy. i tell him it's ridiculous that i couldn't get the credit score free, since that's why i was denied, and all he can say is "that's how it is". i ask him how my credit score could drop over 100 points in a year, when i'm in better shape, and he doesn't know. i ask him about the fact that they list addresses for me that i never lived at, and he doesn't know how it happened. i tell him they their report tells me that my social security number has been useed 3 times in the past 30 days for different inquiries and i want to know what they are, and he doesn't know. he asks where i learned that, and i tell him it's on the report they sent me, which i'm reading as we speak- he still doesn't know who had my social security number to make inquiries, or what they inquired about. all in all, absolutely fucking useless. so all i can do is make larger-than-normal payments on my credit card, wait for the investigation (30 whole days!) and hope something improves. grrr!

now that i've vented, i have to run. i'm off to see the wizards...
walk good. screw death+taxes.

say no to work

URGENT VIRUS NOTICE:
There is a dangerous virus being passed electronically, orally and by hand. This virus is called WORK. If you receive WORK from any of your colleagues, your boss or anyone else via any means DO NOT TOUCH IT. This virus will wipe out your private life completely. If you should come into contact with WORK put your jacket on and take 2 good friends to the nearest pub. Purchase the antidote known as WINE. The quickest acting is called CHARDONNAY but this is only available for those who can afford it, the NHS equivalent is BLUE NUN. Take the antidote repeatedly until WORK has been completely eliminated from your system. Forward this warning to 5 friends. If you do not have 5 friends you have already been infected and WORK is controlling your life. This virus is DEADLY.
Update 03-01-05: after extensive testing it has been concluded that BEER may be substituted for WINE but may require a more generous application.

it amused me. walk good.

well earlier on i mentioned reading nina's blog- i eventually found my way to mike's through hers, so i thought i'd say so. they're married, not that it necessarily matters.
i like reading...
walk good.

penis poetry

so after a day of frustration over the predicament of trying to revise my stories and finding a writing gig, each task making me feel like i'm neglecting the other, all while trying to keep this 'grownup' house clean (oh, for a studio apartment like my old 1500 mass.ave.) and the damn dishes washed, i decided it's time for some light entertainment.
so i been skimming nina's blog, and now i'm posting my penis poem (i think it was her dick windshield wipers that prompted me).

ode to a penis:
o amazing penis unbelievable length
and growing girth
o phallus
organ extraordinaire
ever-expanding to fill the
empty spaces of
every orifice's dreams.
pulsing, throbbing,
pumping, plunging,
thrusting,
digging,
diving deep
into moist territories that
surrender willingly
to the intrusion
enveloping its firmness
gently gripping
and even enjoying the meaty
muscular prescence
warmly spurting
washing already wet walls
with your frothy fluids.
emissions of guilt
of fear
of sinful delights
hoping that
responsibilty
does not make you pay
with a long-term
commitment
plan.

walk good. giggle.

gooooaaaaaaaaallllll !!!!!!!!

football peong strikes again! (if you don't know what a peong is, please see link to 'sexy husband's blog') tonight at his team's indoor football game (americans, i already told you that game you refer to is clearly not foot ball. soccer is the real football) grims scored 3goals- not that it helped as much as one might think because he needed twice that number for a draw- but i'm still totally excited.
you have to understand that when we first got together i went on tour for a few months, and late every monday night i would hear about his miraculous 5 or 6goals. sometimes more. when i was out of town his team adored him, he was a spectacular scorer, but when my tour was over and i could actually come to his games (yes, i am my husband's groupie- if groupies are getting some, i wanna be the only one. right?) he suddenly only manages 1, maybe 2goals per game. still decent, but the team thinks he's better for them when i'm not around trying to be good to him- something to do with the usage and focus of pent-up-energy, i was told...
then he played goalie for a couple years and has only recently gone back out to the field, so now (needless to say) him scoring 3goals during a game when i'm present is a beautiful thing. if he keeps improving, next thing you know i'll have to paint his name on my boobs!
and this from the same wonderful man who did my hair this weekend so that i could have sexy, curly locks to toss, and made the best ribs ever for dinner last night. sunday night food was incredible, and tonight he made the leftovers (which i'd been looking forward to already) even better by adding another side of mushrooms sauteed in butter, wine, and garlic. pardon me if i gush, but he's apparently the best husband in the history of husbands. now if he could just do something about the weather and lack of beach in this damn country of his, i'd be completely content.
it's even worried me a little lately that he might make me too happy- i mean, what good literature ever came out of bliss? if i weren't enjoying it all so much, i'd ask for some relationship drama to help my writing. as it is, i'm hoping the shitty winter (of my discontent, of course) will do the trick because i can't complain about much else unless i'm prepared to get into world hunger, war and the suffering of children- which is all valid, but not what i want to write- not that i'm not working very hard on the ultimate solution to all those things. i'll let you know as soon as i have it taken care of. all i can say for now is that it will involve world sex for peace (make love, not war, right?) mandatory siestas, worldwide cake, and no work before 11am unless all involved parties willingly agree. keep checking in so you'll know when it goes into effect...

and on that note (solving the problems our men-in-charge can't deal with, poor babies) nico sent me a link to this article, as a comment on my post about those 'grownup' things my friends are into these days. even if you don't feel like reading the whole page, i highly recommend its link to the site about pygmy chimpanzees or 'bonobos' (almost halfway down the page), which are the 'horniest apes on earth' and among the few mammals to have sex for pleasure, not just procreation. they're one of the species biologically closest to humans and apparently solve group conflict with mutual fondling and/or sex, are bisexual, indulge in masturbation, french kissing and oral sex, have intercourse face-to-face while gazing into each others' eyes, and are one of the most peaceful social groups (more so than humans and common chimps) because the abundance of sex from willing females (who are equal to males in the society) makes the males less interested in competition amongst themselves.
that's a lifestyle we might benefit from. they solve power issues with sex, instead of solving sex issues with power.
word.
that's me for tonight.
walk good. love each other.

sunday bloody sunday

slept like crap last night (this morning, after sunup, really) so after finally getting out the bed early this afternoon, i promptly fell asleep on the couch. but now grims' pardner jp's over so they can watch that game americans like to call football, so since the steelers mean nothing to me (i've actually denounced the state of pennsylvania, so it's not just a sports thing) i figured i'd write something. i need to feel productive.
i've been thinking about life and all that shit, since it seems everybody we know is doing 'grownup' things lately- jp+sonomi pregnant, jake+jen moving in, my extra-marital boyfriend and his actual girlfriend just moved in, stephen+chrystyna preparing for conception, mweia+osiris started their own business, scrawn+richard working on a house downpayment to be followed by a baby next year...
there was a time when some of my friends felt like i was doing the 'grownup' thing because i was the first to get married in a couple circles, then we bought a house. but the fact is, we got married because it was the only way we could be together. i love being married and definitely don't regret it, but i always said i was never getting married, and if there'd been another way to be together (ie. live in the same country) we'd be living happily in sin instead. the rings and vows and shit weren't the point for us. and the house was just cheaper than paying rent in the district. so even though we did the 'grownup' stuff almost 3years ago, we didn't feel 'grownup' when we did it. it wasn't about the marriage and house. it was a necessity of geography and citizenship rules, and cost-effectiveness.
and believe me- if i hadn't fallen ridiculously in love with him, i would be home eating bake+shark on maracas bay. i would never have looked back at america. people always assume i'm working on citizenship instead of being a resident and his wife, and i'm asking "why the hell would i want to do that?"- american citizenship is not even remotely appealing to me. and right now, neither is a baby. that next step of 'grownupness' is nowhere on my horizon because i never thought we were being 'grownup' in the first place.
i don't know if that makes sense, or if it's all in my head, but when my friends tell me they're trying to get pregnant and ask when i'll be doing it, i find myself aghast at the adult turns of their lives, until they remind me that i'm a nearly-3-years-married woman. and then i'm shocked at how 'grownup' i sound in that context!
grims' parents are all about grandchildren, my sister and cousins desperately want a niece, and my father called me @ 7am to ask when we were planning to have a baby, and all i could think was "i can't even keep the plants alive yet!"- he's concerned that i'm "not getting any younger" @ the ripe old age of 27 and i'm concerned that i'm not sure i can take care of myself and the house yet, in spite of one of those 2 things being inanimate...
all of which is to say that the baby question is currently out of the question, and my friends 'grownup' changes like moving in and having babies of their own is fuckin' scary! maybe when we can put ourselves to bed and then wake up at a reasonable hour, maybe when i have a job, maybe when taxes don't end our lives for a few months every year, maybe when we finally fix the roof and the front door, maybe when i no longer fall up and down the stairs...maybe...

walk good.

who says white boys can't corn-row?

tonight grims learned to cornrow- in trini we actually call it cane-row, as in sugarcane, but i didn't feel like trying to fit all that explanation in the title- and did my hair up so i can have curly locks tomorrow. who say white boys don't know dreadlocks?!
so we weren't exactly snowed in but we got about 4-5", was enough to justify staying in. a satisfying day on the couch, a clean house, freshly washed, twisted and canerowed hair- naturally, he did the shovelling. i wouldn't touch the stuff with a 100-foot-shovel. i know there's people who like it but i think it's cold and nasty, only appreciable when i'm warmly inside.
the christmas tree's gone now, but there was already valentine's crap in the grocery 2 weeks ago. it's ridiculous, and besides, carnival's so much better.
sadly, we will not be there...nor will we be in sweet trini for the world cup qualifier (trini/usa) on ash wednesday. lameness abounds.
equally lame, ultrabang associates seem to have gone the way of the would-be-soul-buyers. no sign of anybody looking for a klutz-for-hire or soul-for-sale. after starting the year with great excitement at the idea of finally making $ for qualities i naturally possess, my financial prospects now look sad.
will no-one give the requisite 30 pieces of silver for my soul or offer cash for my banged shins?
what is the world coming to? or specifically america, since this has long been the place where you can literally sell anything (even more so with the internet). i mean in america, you can sell your used panties and toothbrushes for hundreds of dollars. you can sell your child (you can do that in a lot of places but america's serious about bringing in the business- black babies go for discounted rates- they only call it an adoption processing fee, it's really selling your child since white babies go for up to $5,000 more than black babies from the same agency- clearly not a processing fee) but now i've gone off on a less-than-fun tangent and am thinking dark thoughts. maybe i should call it a night (or a morning, since the sun will arrive soon and try weakly to melt the snow, forgetting that this is the country of fake winter sun- mediocre light, no heat)...yeah, i'm obviously feeling lame...

well i just remembered my gorgeous grims-styled hair, and it's making me smile again. all is not lost. i don't have to leave sour.

"...i just now remembered
how your hand fits the curve of my waist
and your smile
fits the curve of my mind..."

i didn't write that, but i wish i did.
somebody was telling me (this is the abbreviated conversation) that keeping a blog is indicative of a large ego because you have to believe other people want to read your shit, and it reminded me of a note i made to myself months ago, so i had to go back through my notebook and find it. i think it's a good thing for me to recall every so often:
(some maybe more secretly than others) all published, performed or aspiring writers must think themselves smart, funny, prophetic, or some combination of the 3- how else could you have the courage to let somebody else skim your soul? and if it's not your soul, then why write it?

when i rethink that it brings my situation into perspective. i'm just some chick who thinks she should be listened to. it's not a unique condition. but if i'm lucky, others may agree...
walk good.

how could i forget?!

husband-approved extra-marital boyfriends are still brilliant, but selma hayek is still my #1 pick for torrid affair, especially since the sexy husband's down (and emb too)...walk good.

husband-approved extra-marital boyfriends are brilliant!

tonight i got to lime (for non-trinis, this word means 'chill' or 'hang out with'. learn it. it's useful) with my extra-marital-boyfriend. it had been far too long. grims had to go off to work before the end of a night out for molnar's b'day, so emb drove me home, and we spent some quality time (he liked my irish creme, and we had a whisky tasting) and i'm just remembering how good my friends are. i keep so few because i don't like people, but those i choose are truly the best. molnar's someone i'm getting to know better lately, and she's great too. for an ex-cult-member-cum-muffin (for non-theatre-people, a muffin is a musical theatre person).
good night all round, except for this waiting up for the sexy to get back from work, after waking up @ 7am for shakespeare (which received 'eeewwws' when my juliet kissed romeo, and a "that's just sick" after a scene from the taming of the shrew. apparently shakespeare is a sick and twisted dude. so sayeth the 5th grade...)
all in all, considering that we haven't done that show in 2 weeks, and it had been since early december before that, we did ok. they loved the show, we didn't go up on lines and i didn't accidentally kill my fight choreographer during our swordfight- for anybody who's been reading this, the one time i'm not a klutz is when i'm onstage. not sure how that works, but it does. not complaining.
but i feel like it's a good time for friends- got back with keif and now have a link to his blog on my list, been getting back with dani in b'dos and nico in london (with cute new puppy), was accosted by an old high-school-mate, twisted d's hair, have a basketball date with jake, hopefully getting snowed in with grims this weekend (operative word being "in"), enjoyed b'daying with ex-cult-m, had a lovely time with extra-marital-boyfriend discussing porn, lingerie and therapy (not for us- the latter, that is), getting back with shakespeare buds, which leads to fabulous talk about rainbow parties, the potential of ultrabang (klutz-related linkage above), the perfect key and tune for nether-region-style-humming, jenna jamison's autobio, killing small children, the shitty furcoated-republican-invasion, and the history of pi (number, not cherry)...
anyway, the sexy is home and conveniently pants-less, so i'm out...
walk good.

brand-new natty-dread

did something today i haven't done in so long...an old friend from trini came over and i twisted her hair to start her dreadlocks.
i'd forgotten the excitement and curiousity of each new natty's early stages- how big or small do we want the locks, how much maintainance will it need, will it take, how will it look during that in-between stage?
i haven't locked any hair but mine in years, and even mine has been purely neatening for years now. not that i don't love my locks, but the thrill of a new natty is different- nothing else is like wrapping nicholai's in (biodegradeable) black cotton thread to help it catch, or killing my fingertips on ty's, trying to undo the injustice somebody else had done with beeswax, or even the early commitment to my own, keeping it tight for regular performances.
speaking of which, tomorrow i'm back to my shakespeare gig which means waking up @ 7am, after going to bed between 2 and 7am for over a week...i should go, seeing that as of right now i can only get a maximum of 5.5 hours sleep, assuming i fall out instantaneously with no desire to have sex- both laughable ideas...i'm out...

walk good.

the perfect job

just found it!
i just read about a company called "ultrabang associates" (hope they haven't disappeared like the goddamn soul-buyers) that hires hardcore klutzes to test products for 'foolproofness'. this is made for me- grims always says i'm the only person he knows who falls up stairs. i still bang every available body part on furniture and banisters that haven't moved in 2years. i fall down the stairs as much as i fall up them (nah. more.) and i broke at least one of the fine dishes we registered for when we got married within days of owning them. i even broke my engagement ring before the wedding. i've had at least 2 concussions, one of which was accompanied by the breaking of my glasses (which i still do often, the last time being during a lettuce fight with zed in london- yes, i know nobody else has lettuce fights. it was her fault, and the 2nd pair of my glases she broke, the 1st being a dance-class dressingroom tussle). i drop anything not superglued to my hand, break and lose jewellery on a rotating monthly basis, and can't miss the puddles if i try. i bang my head on shelves in spite of being only 5'1" and cut my hands to shit washing the dishes. i also keep acquiring bruises that i can't account for and trip over my own feet regularly, sometimes bad enough to twist an ankle or require stitches. i have a basic balance problem that manifests itself anytime i try to self-sustain an upright posture. i've fallen out of a parked car. it's why i keep my ass cushiony- survival tactic.
grims also just pointed out that this is a big step in self-realisation for me. i guess he thinks i'm more of a klutz than i know. but the prospect of using it for the forces of good, or at least the forces of money, makes it all clear to me now.
but even more than all this, what makes me truly perfect for the job is that somehow, i don't break bones. i've strained, sprained and pulled almost everything (dancing will do that even if the dropsy doesn't), i've slammed the same finger with 2" pneumatic staples twice, i have permanent gouges on the insides of my cheeks from accidentally biting them with every meal, and still can't maintain my glasses or contacts, but i don't do damage that requires splints or casts to fix. stitches are the furthest my inner klutz has taken me, and i think this feature could only help a professional (or aspiring) fool...
so ultrabang recruiters, email me. i'm ready, willing, still in one piece, and at least temporarily conscious.

walk good.

murphy's law

for those who may care, this is apparently how it came to be...
http://www.improb.com/airchives/paperair/volume9/v9i5/murphy/murphy0.html
walk good.

the geek in me

today i indulged my inner science geek and language geek. these textbook disclaimer stickers are pretty funny, and the other links on the page are cool, if you're pro-evolution, anti-creationist. hell, even if you don't know where you stand on the issue, go learn something. it made me happy. especially since i found it via another cool site that i came across while finding out what the ig-nobel-award-folks were up to and checking out their blog, mag, etc...
and for the word-freak in me, wordcount's part of a project that tracks the 86,800 commonest words and calculates how often we use each one. the "conspiracy" section of their site is fun, and if you "launch wordcount" you can try to find your own conspiracy sequence. or find out where your favourite words rank in usage. or whatever. i like it. i been playing with it like i been playing with the 20questions (previous entry) game...
and while playing, an older favourite is part of the pbs "keeping score" project, called "match the music" (you have to select the "primal moves" section of the 'multimedia presentation' on the page talking about tchaikovsky- pbs makes it too damn hard to find this lovely feature, and just searching www.pbs.org doesn't quite get you there without those details, although you may find other wonderful things along the way): there's a selection of relatively famous artwork and a selection of classical music, and you choose a piece to listen to while viewing the art of your choice- it's intriguing how different the same art can seem (whole new meanings reveal themselves) when you dramatically change the music you set it to...
alright. enough self-indulgent playsurfing i think.
time to get back to the wonderful world of revising my still-unpublished fiction...blahblahblah...

maybe more later since i'm waiting up for grims, who'll prob'ly be working until 4am (the things i do for sex). can't wait for him to get back! i feel like i might explode!
walk good. get some. i know i will...

20 questions about frogs?

so i'm semi-addicted to this silly thing- prob'ly because i'm weird (apparently weirder than 87% of the world's population, according to some random online quiz that i don't remember the url for) but i love playing 20 questions with this game, and seeing how it improves as i keep playing. it really does get better as you play. and it's kinda fun making the computer programme figure out abstract concepts. and i especially like that when either the game or the player wins and the game knows what the thought was, it tells you which of your answers it disagreed with, and you learn how the programme would've answered the questions.
ok, so maybe that online quiz was right about me being 87th percentile...
my other new favourite website is all about frogs that tells me i'm most like the argentinian horned (pac-man) frog that lives to eat, and doesn't like other frogs- it's more likely to enjoy quality time by eating other frogs. sounds just like me...

on a less thrilling note, it fucking snowed here this morning, which means we still down in the 20's. lemme tell you, this is not trini's idea of a good time. no amount of hot chocolate can compensate for this shitty weather, so i boycotting all of outside. i made irish cream today (like bailey's) but upped the amount of chocolate in the recipe, so i'm trying to stay excited about staying in instead and making tea with that stuff. it also means we have an open-but-unfinished can of sweetened condensed milk in the fridge for when we want tea without the irish part of the cream.
at least i'm prepared, and don't have to go out for a gig until friday...
walk good.

poetry on the fly

i hear your voice
silently
cutting through
stevie's wondrous harmonies
and when he tells my lonely heart
i will know
i wait for your reassurance
that the musicman
is right.

walk good.

brahmanic urges

salt
flavours life
starting with the earth
and going
all
the
way
down
to
my
stomach...

walk good.

maybe baby

in books and movies, characters seem so ready and willing to give up what's possibly their only chance at true love, for the "greater good".
every time i see another story wind its way down this road, i have to wonder how many real people would do it- isn't love the #1 priority for almost everybody, consciously or otherwise?
having found mine, i don't know if i could be magnanimous enough to give it up for thousands of people i don't even know- unless i needed to save the world from absolute destruction.
i fully admit my reluctance is partly because i don't like people to start with, but still, except maybe in cultures of arranged marriages, isn't everybody looking for love?
i find it hard to swallow how many people the entertainment industry would have us believe would let all that go for the sake of the rest of us strangers...

on a distantly related note, does an immaculate conception at least start with an immaculate orgasm? not that i'd ever be the one selected for the gig, but how else do you get anybody to agree to it?
walk good.

slow burn

ok. so this has been brewing for days now. i thought i wasn't going to mention it here, but again, what the point of the blog, right?
so the other day i was talking to zed (younger sister) on the phone and we had a conversation about our mother and our respective relationships with her. i happened to say something that zed thinks i should discuss with mom but i explained that i choose my battles with our parents, and this is one that i choose not to get into. i'm just not interested in the long, drawn-out heart-to-heart that would ensue. zed is convinced that if i don't bring it up, then mom's behaviour will continue because if she doesn't know it's upsetting, she won't stop. of course, i know this. i don't expect the behaviour to stop without my addressing it directly. i just decided that in this specific case, it's more worthwhile for me to put up with the crap. there have been other times when i had the talk instead. but i think these choices should be mine to make, unless zed notices she's having the same problem- then she can take it up on her own behalf, but it should have nothing to do with me unless i choose to join the fray.
so after our talk i specifically asked her not to bring it up when she had her own talk with mom (this was all precipitated by an earlier conversation they had, that zed thought merited redress) and thought we were done.
then the next time i spoke to zed, she informed me that she'd written this long email to mom about stuff that came up in their previous talk, and mentioned my specific issue as well. i told her that was shitty, and she took it like 'what can i do? it's already done', which it was, but that doesn't make it less shitty. she claims she was actually trying to reread it before sending, to make sure she wanted to say all that stuff, but accidentally rolled her finger over the laptop's mousepad and sent it prematurely. it still shitty.
by the end of the phone call i'd let it go as something i'd handle if and when i reared its ugly head, but i find that every time it crosses my mind i get more and more pissed. i'm still trying to let it go, and truthfully, mom hasn't brought it up so far so it may be moot, but i still get mad every time i remember how it was taken out of my hands.
i just told zed about starting my blog, so she'll probably read this, if i don't break out and call her to cuss first. but i have to say: how can we be tight if i can't trust you to respect my wishes regarding my end of our conversations?

walk good.

somewhat better now

so now that i've gone off and been pissed about the awful administration of this country, i'm back because i remembered what i was originally going to say- i'd forgotten how amazingly beautiful the movie hero is.
we watched it again last night with friends who hadn't seen it (and probably will again soon, with other friends currently unaware of what they're missing) and it took my breath away as if i hadn't seen it before, on the massive screen with reclining stadium seating. even at one-hundredth the size, it's still gorgeous.
i want to write like hero looks.

on a slightly different note, watching it made me recognise the double standards i subject movies to. growing up in trinidad where the old-school, horribly-voiced-over 'golden harvest' kick-ups are a beloved part of the culture, i love well-executed wire-work. i love to watch some dude run up some other dude's chest, across the surface of the water, and back-flip up into the tops of the big bamboo, while the run-upon-dude points his sword up and flies like superman directly at his opponent's chest, neither one missing a move of their fight, balancing on the bamboo-tips, like we all do in real life, everyday.
i know it's impossible and i love it anway, but still hate any lack of onscreen realism in most other forms.
i get so frustrated when i'm watching a movie and something completely ridiculous happens because it makes me feel like the writer and director underestimate me, and i don't like feeling played down to. which is not to say that i'm against fantasy, or superheroes, or enhanced people, i love that stuff too (the dark knight being my personal hero) but unless the story establishes the extraordinariness of its characters, they need to obey the accepted laws of nature with regard to physics, math, chemistry and biology. it's why i don't like musicals (except for my shortlist of 5 or so reasonable ones) in spite of working in professional theatre- people spontaneously busting into synchronised song+dance is just not believable.
i feel the same need for realism in movies, except for kick-ups and maybe james bond (but then, those stories clearly establish the extraordinary charm and ability of agent 007, so they're an appropriate framework for his shenanigans, tiptoeing along the same tightrope as superhero stories) and possibly bollywood movies. but even within these forms, there are rules- martial artists can only hover in midair while fighting and can't just float through their lives that way, superheroes have specific weaknesses that can be exploited- maybe that's why i can enjoy it. it still makes sense in some way, more so than when a movie about 'realistic' characters and situations makes the leap into unbelievability- the day after tomorrow was just out of control, and no amount of special effects could make that movie worthwhile. as a matter of fact, the cgi wolves in particular made it worse- get some real fuckin' wolves!

all of which is to say that if you haven't seen hero (the one with jet li in it) go get it. you need to.
walk good.

this is some bullshit!

so i know i'm days late with this, but i was busy figuring out how to do this blogging thing, then busy being depressed over the rejection of my soul (previously worth tens of thousands of pounds) but i was visiting my friend jake's blog and came across this shitty news.
now, i knew it was going on, but hadn't gathered all the details prior to reading this, so almost a week after everybody else residing in the district with me, i'm pissed. taxation without representation continues to be a bitch!
i don't even think he should be getting another inaugauration! he sure as shit doesn't need it! he already had one, and with the economy in the toilet being further flushed by the daily cost of the occupation of iraq, if he gave a damn about this country he would forgo this unnecessary fucking event! his hubris is driving the country deeper and deeper into deficit!
you know what- i could go on about this, but i'ma just re-read jake's rant instead. why say it again when it's already been well-said?
walk good. and throw open bags of rotting garbage at junior's useless ceremony to let him know that we remember him- a party for his friends paid with our blood won't help us forget what he is.

wrote this in november 1998.

i went back to the spot
where we first met
and stood still
like the air stood still when our eyes met
and i smiled
like you smiled at me when our thoughts met
and i remembered the feel of the current
like electricity in my pores
when our skin met
but you weren't there this time
instead
it was just another street corner
random pedestrians
cars and trucks
children on bicycles and rollerblades
and a little less sunshine.

walk good.

almost sadder than tetris

this is like that day when i made it to level38 of tetris (the only video game i play, unless you count my unequivocal joy at watching my husband play ratchet+clank) and made 372 lines for 349,717 points and thought i was queen of the world, until the game asked me to enter my info for the online-top-score-table, and i discovered i wasn't even in the top 100.
now i'll never be able to sell my soul...
guess that means i'll keep walking good...

bedeviled!

so that was big let-down.
after i got all excited and stayed up writing about the sell-your-soul website in the wee hours of this morning, the damn thing won't process quotes anymore (i should know. i've been trying for 12hours) although the site still exists and you can answer the questions. i think satan created this elaborate setup just to infuriate, depress, and embarass me. the devil has infinite patience- i visited for months, and he held out for me to start the damn blog!
shitty.
and i feel bad for making all 3 of you who read this go through all that fuss for nothing.
i apologise. i'm a bad friend for letting ideas get ahead of me and not checking first.
lame.
walk good.

quote

since i still can't get a quote for my soul i'm going to bed, reflecting on another favourite quote instead since i think i'm going literary tomorrow (later, really. i would've tonight, but couldn't decide on the first piece to share)

"...i'll be a cushioned bed for your weary head, and a garden for your seeds..."

i think someone important to literature wrote that, but i've never known who. my husband liked it though.
sleep good. walk good.
but try to avoid sleepwalking wherever possible...

lucifer's lame!

after my last post i went back to recheck the monetary value of my soul according to satan, and for some reason can't connect to the server after answering the pertinent questions- so perhaps my inner debate was all in vain, due to not taking advantage when the opportunity was first presented...
if anybody finds the site functional, lemme know. maybe the devil's people just don't work all-nighters...
i'll keep trying because it worked a few weeks ago. i'll be sad if it went away...although now that i think about it, i'm sure somebody else'll be more than willing to buy our souls if they've gone out of business...
walk good.

sell my soul?

so i lied.
i thought i was going to bed, but during my shower realised that i now have the forum to gather opinions on something i been considering on and off for months now, since someone sent me a link to this site. i visited www.wewantyoursoul.com and have been plagued by the sinister possibilities ever since!
now i know there's a good chance the site is all bullshit anyway, but if the quote they gave me for my soul is good, then i could pay off student loans and the house...
so when i first checked it out, i turned to grims (previously referred to as my husband, or my sexy husband- which is not to say he's no longer sexy, but grims is shorter and i'm a terrible typist) and pointed out that since neither of us is religious, it couldn't hurt to find out if the offer made by the soul-purchasers is the real deal. i mean, if they straight up then we take care of business and live happily-debt-free-ever-after. and if not, then what have we lost, since the soul thing was never a big consideration...
he said no. emphatically. repeatedly.
he said that i shouldn't risk it, that you never know, that even if i didn't believe in the personal value of my soul it would still be very bad karma to sell it to strangers (i'm sure his implication referred to selling it at all).
but, i said, i'd be selling it for a good cause! with our financial portfolio, it could be considered a charity auction.
but i did not prevail. he was adamant, and i figured it was one of those arguments the 'nay' had to win, in all fairness (much like the decision to have a baby, but thankfully, we both naysaying that one)- after all, he's stuck with me for life, so if he prefers scrunting to soulless, i shouldn't complain. i believe one shouldn't force children, or soul-selling on loved ones.
i also broached the topic with zed, but she seconded his nay, and i dare not mention this option to my mother, for fear of her ability to channel the wrath of god.
so i let it go, but every month or so, i revisit the 'fantastic opportunity', fondly rediscover my soul's worth, think about selling it (would that be like selling out?), and forcibly remind myself that if it turns out i do need my soul, this would be the worst way to find out. i don't need a cosmic thump on the back of my skull along with the fat paycheck (the quote's in pounds too) but the logical side of me keeps saying just do it! what has your soul done for you lately? and if god is for real, god would understand and forgive once you sold it for the right reasons anyway...

but scary as the mortgage is, testimonials from unknowns on the website just may not be enough, so is there anyone out there who's sold their soul and would like to share? or anyone who thinks they'd like to try it and email me with results? or just anyone with a persuasive argument in either direction? enquiring mind wants to know...

walk good.

quickie

so i was planning to keep up my recent burst of blogging energy, but alas, tonight, after hours of online searching for ways to pay the bills and taxes and go to australia this year, i tired- not to mention hyper-aware of tomorrow's early alarm...
but i spent at least some of my time wisely, and may have learned some things to incorporate into this experiment. so i'm trying to stay industrious.
walk good.

writing woos and woes

woohoo! i feel so accomplished!
by the time i published last night- this morning?- well, yesterday morning now, since is after 1.30am- i'd figured out (mostly by asking the blog-happy-hubby) how to include links, so i had one within the entry and one successfully added to the sidebar section- of course, if you reading this, chances are you already discovered that. but i'm proud.
and since i did so well last night, i decided i should maintain and make sure i wrote tonight.
however, after a whole day of staring at this screen, searching online for somebody (anybody!) willing to pay me to write something (anything!) i'm sick of this damn keyboard, my hip flexors ache from the awful position i been sitting in, and i'm grumpy about the fact that people who apparently can't spell the word 'writer' seem to be having better luck at getting paid to write. and this isn't even about the short fiction languishing on my hard drive that nobody will publish thus far; i expected that to be one stop short of murder, getting my collection (or even individual pieces) picked up- but i looking for gainful (and meaningful) employ here, not just trying to pacify my ego by managing to convince a publisher that short fiction may actually sell.
and is not like i don't have the experience and ability. but instead, every day i open up newspapers, magazines and books to misspellings, pitiful grammar, and a saddening lack of style, knowing that i could do it cleaner and better- and have before, but it seems that walking away for awhile is a signal to the world that you let go, never to return.
i admit, this is the long-day-of-fruitless-labour-grump talking, but what's the point of a blog if i can't be pissy and rant in it, right? exactly!
over it now. i'm back to being pleased with myself for my blog progress. i actually should confess that the other thing making me so proud of myself is that this is the best i've done at maintaining a journal since my mother read my 9-year-old diary and i vowed to never indulge in that crap again. naturally, everybody who's known me over the years as a writer expected that i kept a journal and indignantly rebuked me upon discovering that i didn't- what kind of writer doesn't keep a journal? but i refused, even when college courses required it (another confession: i made those up the mornings they were due, scribbled frantically for an hour and still got great grades, which suggests that professors don't know the difference anyway, which validates my opinion about journaling- some may like it but it's useless for me because i'm just not invested in chronicling my daily ass-wiping...although maybe i'd be willing to chronicle somebody else's...)
all of which is to explain that i haven't been this diligent about something that's neither work nor personal creative project in almost 20 years. but then, that may be because i'm telling myself this is a personal creative project...
hope i haven't set my standards too high with this initial zeal...
walk good.

all his fault

3rd post and i'm already delinquent- shoulda done this yesterday. but in my defence, the last 5 hours of delay were not my fault. at least not directly.
i convinced my husband to start his own blog earlier this evening (like i know so much) and he's apparently a journaling maniac, and decided to make his first 2 posts as well as figure out how to do some of the shit i shoulda been learning (but of course wasn't, and now must ask him, the new expert on all things blog-related) like setting up links and whatnot. and now, after waiting an unbelievably long time for my turn at the internet, i've completely forgotten everything i wanted to say. typical man...i hold him responsible for my current bout of writer's lapse.
and i'd like to point out that this man (sexy though he may be) not only completely usurped my online writing time, he kept me up until ridiculous hours to do so- it's almost sunrise- though i admit that while i may be writing this from our house in dc, the timestamp on my stuff corresponds with home (trinidad+tobago) so i'm technically an hour off- the sun has already risen for this blog even though it hasn't at my house.
i decided to always keep my computer on trini time for its laissez-faire convenience (trini-time is anytime) but i also don't believe in this daylight-savings-time shit that temperate-clime-dwellers do. i bitch at my poor husband every year when 'his people' fuck with the clocks.
but now i'm here trying to write with all my extra-witty, very pithy thoughts and observations flown irretrievably far from my mind, while said husband, html-guru and blogger-extraordinaire, plays fifa 2005 on his playstation2 (his lame excuse being that the x-files rerun that just started is too scary) while i hope it'll keep him awake long enough for him to be of some use to me when i get off the net. needless to say, i still can't recall anything to say.
just for the record though, since we talking football- yes, playstation counts- and for the americans, we in the rest of the world don't feel a need to refer to it as 'soccer' because we know american football is clearly not football, so there's no need to distinguish between the 2- the tottenham hotspurs should get the points toward their position in the standings for the goal scored and ignored in their game against man.u. the other day- in case anybody who has a say in that happens to read this. just because i know relatively little about sports doesn't mean i know little about fairness and sportsmanship- pedro and jol are playing nice, but the end result isn't fair- especially since the f.a. uses footage to dish out post-game penalties for fouls not called during the game; then they should also be able to use footage to award post-game goals that were missed during play. and yes, the sexy husband explained those details to me, so i know some shit!
ok. when i start talking sports, that's a sign that it's time to go. if i do this right, when this is actually posted, i'll have figured out how to insert the link to my favourite husband's blog and he can discuss the value of the spurs' goal...
but don't hold me to that promise.
walk good.

lords of the rings

so we just watched the lord of the rings trilogy, all extended versions, back-to-back, in about 12 hours (with bathroom breaks) - 'we' being myself, my husband (grims) and a buncha friends.
excellent, but not necessarily the kind of day that bears repeating, even with rum punch and other vices well taken care of- that shit was long! good, but long enough to not do ever again (maybe the only time i'll ever string those words together as a sentence) unless harder drugs are involved.
the real problem is that by the time you get to the only truly awful scene (frodo waking up after finally tossing the ring and being greeted in slo-mo by everybody, one at a freakin' time) you've already been watching for so long that it's twice as unbearable as you remembered from watching them individually, and then the fake endings make you make the same face frodo wears through most of the trilogy.
barring that, it was great.
still not sure though, how the hell sam makes it through without beating the shit outta frodo for being such a pussy- taking care of his weak ass, bolstering his fragile ego, fighting down gollum, carrying frodo on his back for the last part of the journey, only to have that bitch stand on the edge of the fire-pit, and say he keeping the damn ring. how sam refrains from kicking frodo and ring over the edge is beyond me, but i guess that's why i wasn't chosen to be part of the fellowship...
i suppose i should thank zed on behalf of all our guests today, for gifting us the box set for christmas. guess i should get her something. but she already knows i'm a bad sister.
so this is my first real entry.
if i'm industrious, i'll learn how to make this really cool, with links and pics and shit, but for now just making an entry is an achievement.
walk good.

one

for anyone actually reading this, i should start with the warning that this will be irregularly posted. i am not a compulsive journaler.
with that said, now that i've created this i'm going to bed and i'll post for real later...
walk good.