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Karina [Tuesday, January 3rd, 2006 @ 3:36pm]
[ mood | indescribable ]

Long, looong rant on Social Anxiety a.k.a. Psychology-geekingCollapse )

For example, Kim and Karina would make brilliant case studies for social phobia, though Kim has admittedly improved with age. I will never forget when Kim gave the verbal smack-down to a 711 worker in westminster one fine day. Whatever you do, never wrongly accuse her of anything.

Speaking of Karina, she called me last night. We talked forever. I miss her so, so much. It turns out that I'm going to be missing her for a lot longer than originally thought. She's not coming back to school in the spring. She can't afford it. She owes the school $4000 for fall semester, let alone increasing her balance even more. It isn't fair that I am getting so much financial aid when I honestly don't need it, and she isn't getting nearly as much when she needs it far more than I do... The plan is that she'll take spring semester off, work this summer, all spring, through summer break, and hopefully be able to return in the fall. But in the meantime they'll put someone new in the room with me and then when Karina comes back, they'll make me move out of the room to be her roommate again because it wouldn't be fair to make the other person move out just because I wanted to live with someone else. And that's OUR room. We were planning on staying in it until we graduated. But like I said, I miss her a lot. She's like a second sister to me, except one that doesn't wiggle her toes like she's got ADHD (that would be Kim). I told her she'd better keep-in-touch with me, whatever happens, because I'll kick her in the knee if she doesn't. That's right: I'll go all the way to California to kick her in the knee.

By the way: allofmp3.com is brilliant. It's like iTunes and MSN music, but MUCH cheaper (ranging from $.10 to $.20 per track) and I found a lot of songs there that I couldn't find anywhere else.

damn the man

Martha Stewart [Sunday, January 1st, 2006 @ 8:09am]
[ mood | sympathetic ]

Oh my God. Martha Stewart is one cruel bitch. "You just don't fit in"? Are you shitting me? At least Donald Trump has the compassion to leave things at a business level, but Martha brings on the personal smack down. OUCH. Yeah, this was very random.

I wasn't really watching the show as much as it was just on in the background and I was paying attention to my laptop. But I did catch one tidbit during it. The contestants were instructed to pick a fairy tale to read to children, and Martha Stewart apparently took issue with the fact that the story of Hansel and Gretel is too dark for children and parents would feel uncomfortable knowing it was being presented to their children. I happen to disagree with that. Perhaps part of the reason that children are in so much crisis these days is because we're sugar-coating everything, instead of teaching them about how the world sometimes is: dangerous. There are horrible people out there. And they may try to bake you in an oven, so run children, ruuuun!

By the way? Save Martha: The Website dedicated to helping save Martha from the current media onslaught. Now I've seen everything. I don't know, I guess they've just forgotten that websites are a form of media? But I suppose they're not onslaughting, at least.

damn the man

Happy New Year!! [Sunday, January 1st, 2006 @ 6:45am]
[ mood | touched ]

I'm so sickeningly in-love that it scares me sometimes. And really, the fact that my relationship is relatively happy and healthy simply terrifies me. Because now that I have it, what if it goes away?

My New Year's Eve was beautiful. We ended up in the middle of The Stray, a large stretch of grass very similar to the Mall in Washington DC, except that in every direction all around it there is nothing but vast horizon. We were going to go to the club where my father plays pool and listen to the live band, but I didn't want to bring in the new year in a smoke-filled room with a bunch of strangers and loud music that I couldn't guarantee would actually be any good. Instead, the way that we celebrated was more appropriate than anything else I could have imagined. The only thing that could have made it better is if Alex had been there with his arms around me. Unfortunately his arms do not stretch across the ocean, and his eyes will not see from all the way over there what I saw tonight.

In every direction, dazzling explosions of color splattered the horizon and soared in the sky above. We couldn't look in every direction at once, so we spun in circles, our eyes raised in wonder to the spectacle surrounding us. It was amazing...

I love England. I will hate leaving it again, just as much as I hated leaving it before. I don't know what the US thinks it is so high and mighty for, because for all its power and riches, it can not compare to England in almost every other possible way. Though I will admit that Brits do not know real Chinese food. That is, they do not know real Americanized Chinese food. Because the version of Chinese food they have in England? It's gross. Oh, England. I have discovered your one disastrous flaw, and yet I still love you.

Edit: Actually, England does have one other downfall: their shameless abuse of the letter "s" and neglect of the letter "z". Organisation, anyone? Realisation? Say them to yourself and you will be quite certain that you are in fact making use of a "z" sound, not an "s" sound. For my whole life, I will not care if they stick a "u" in color and turn it into colour and the like. But I refuse to accept their exchange of "s" for "z" in so many words. My father pointed out that they had the language before us. I pointed out that we came along and improved upon it with simple logic that apparently never occured to them.

damn the man

Romeo and Juliet [Saturday, December 31st, 2005 @ 4:26pm]
[ mood | excited ]


Also, we're not going to London for New Year's Eve after all. That was already suspected, of course. Instead we're going to go bowling and then go to the club/bar where my Dad plays pool. There's going to be a live band there. Maybe they'll actually be good? It could happen.

damn the man

Survey-thing. [Friday, December 30th, 2005 @ 11:20pm]
[ mood | contemplative ]

2005 in reviewCollapse )

damn the man

London Metro Strike [Friday, December 30th, 2005 @ 9:37pm]
[ mood | annoyed ]

London Metro Strike

I can understand the metro worker's reasons for doing this, I really can. But this is about more than just the workers and the adminstration disagreeing profusely. It's NEW YEARS EVE and this affects the entire metro area and everyone else who was planning to spend New Years Eve in London.

It's enormously selfish. If there is going to be a strike, why must it occur in a way that inconveniences everyone's celebration? It's a good way for the worker's to alienate themselves from public support. But I suppose a strike isn't about winning the support of the public. It's really just about pressuring and threatening people into giving you what only seems like support on the surface.

So much for going to London on New Years Eve... It seems Dad and I will be bowling in the New Year, instead. The Strike Zone on the base is open until 1 AM on New Years Eve, and while it can't compare to London, Dad loves to bowl. Seeing Dad enjoy himself entirely makes up for it.

... Oh. My God. I did not just see what I think I just saw. Dad was channel surfing and he stopped on a show called "The Magic of Jesus". I shit you not, the subject of the episode of this particular television program was the demonstration of a virgin impregnation. They gave the woman an ultrasound, revealing her uterus quite vacant of child, and a flat tummy. They then stood her in front of a sheet, cast her shadow through it, and chanted a few words as the shadow of her belly grew.

Lowering the blanket, they guided her once more to the ultrasound, which revealed a five-month old fetus and a pregnant, protruding tummy. Over the course of the three minutes this occured, my mouth hung open. I know it's fake, don't get me wrong. I just can't believe that anyone would begin to conceive such a spectical for public television as what I have just witnessed.

We decided to cremate Squishy. Maybe it seems strange to cremate a rat, but it makes me feel much better about it in general. I'm going to buy a lovely box for him here and take it back to the states to keep him in.

damn the man

Oh Mickey, you're so fine, you're so fine you blow my mind. [Thursday, December 29th, 2005 @ 10:12am]
[ mood | bored ]

Okay, so I've been traveling around to different "add me" communities looking for one that I want to post in (and of the thirty or so I've looked at, I've posted in zero of them) and in at least half of them I have come across (this guy). In every one of them, there is this same picture of him with his shirt off, chest bare, and that look on his face, and I can only keep thinking that he's Ron Weasley, Oriental Gigalo Style.

I'm watching What Lies Beneath on TV right now. As long as I know (you), I'll never let you live down that scream. And don't tell me you've forgotten it already. You must remember.

I'd really like to spend New Years in London and Dad and I have discussed it, but if we can't find some place to keep the dog while we're away (she's just too old to take care of herself for an entire day) we won't be able to go. But can you imagine? New Years Eve in London. The weekend after we're making plans to go to Liverpool to see where the Beatles are from and I'm REALLY looking forward to that. There will be much picture-taking.

I'm so worried about Alex. Ever since...the incident... he's been so depressed. He can't go anywhere because he can barely see out of his eye well enough to drive safely, so he just sits in his room all day watching TV as well as someone can with only one good eye. He tells me that it hurts when he sneezes, when he blows his nose, when he eats anything, when he drinks and basically anything where facial movement is involved. I don't even know how bad it is because I can't see him right now, but I wish that I could. I want to know how bad it is so that I can properly cry for him, then hold him until the tears stop. He's going back to work on saturday and I think that it will be really good for him, to help him get back out into the world again. I wish so badly I could be there for him right now. There are so many things that a phone call just can't do for someone when they need you...

3 damned the man  ♦  damn the man

David Letterman's stalking me!! [Wednesday, December 28th, 2005 @ 10:40pm]
[ mood | nerdy ]

(how dare he send her coded messages through the television)

Only when you begin to question your sanity can you begin to become and finally be sane. You can't be insane if you are rational enough to ask yourself whether or not you are. In that way, those with depression/anxiety are among the sanest of people just for the mere reason that they are constantly questioning their mental health. It's unavoidable. Likewise, those that believe themselves entirely sane and sound of mind are those that are not because it is an impossible condition. It is unobtainable and claimed only by those that have lost touch with reality. We all have mental instabilities in one way or another, but that should not be equated with insanity. Otherwise, we'd all be insane.

My mind has fallen into a bottomless black pit since the beginning of winter break. It's used to reading text books, absorbing lectures, and expanding to consume as much information as my college experience can feed me. I need. some stimulation. of the mind. Before my brain corrodes into a pile of irreversable mush.

damn the man

RIP Squishy II [Tuesday, December 27th, 2005 @ 5:58pm]
[ mood | crappy ]

This has been one hell of a turbulant Christmas.

The Bad NewsCollapse )

I'd bought him Christmas presents-- a little leash to walk him with, a toy, and some treats-- and I was planning on taking them back to the states to give to him when I got back. I'm afraid to look at them, to do anything with them but leave them in the bag, because it will hurt too much to see them and know they're useless now...

I loved that rat... I'm going to miss the way he'd climb up on top of my shoulder and nestle beneath my hair at the side of my neck, and the way he'd always come to my hand when I opened his cage door, and the way he'd clean himself with his little tongue, and lick drops of water off of my finger tip so trustingly. I'll miss Karina holding his little paws and making him dance on her knee, and I'll even miss when he'd chew my stuff up. I'll miss him. There were times when I know he saw me, not just as the strange giant hovering over his cage, but the strange giant he relied on, someone that gave him love and fulfilled his needs.

Kim's going to film the funeral for me... because I can't be there. :( But it kills me, the thought of him being put into the ground. I've had pets before and we've buried them-- some hamsters, gerbils, even a cat-- and it never hurt like this before. I'm not sure why, but I think it might be because this is the first time I truely cared for something. I don't mean that I cared for him emotionally, though I did. I mean that I was responsible for his well-being, and it meant something to me to give him a good life. From the moment I rescued him from the rat lab at school, his life was in my hands-- his tiny little life was in my hands, and as long as that life was there it meant something monumentous to me.

RIP Squishy II. I loved you and there will be no other rat to ever replace you.

2 damned the man  ♦  damn the man

Alex, Part II [Friday, December 23rd, 2005 @ 6:52pm]
[ mood | numb ]

I just talked on the phone with Alex (I call him two times a day all the way from England; he's very spoiled) and my face is salty with tears. He started out the conversation with "I have to tell you something important, babe" and my mind immediately jumped to the conclusion that he had cheated on me and this was finally the time for confession. I held my breah, my heart held its beat, and I waited for him to go on and say whatever he wanted to tell me.

He went on to tell me that, last night after we talked on the phone, he went to the bar with Simon. He then explained that he spent all night at the hospital last night after getting into a fist fight with two men... He has stitches from where one of the guys hit him in the face with a small bat-like weapon with spikes, and one of his eyes is swollen shut...

It killed me. He'd promised me he wouldn't get into any fights, for my sake. He has a history of physical fights: there are scars all over his body. I'm entirely anti-violence unless it is in self-defense. This wasn't self-defense. He and Simon were just pissed off and mouthing off at these guys, when they could have just walked away and not said a word. According to Alex, walking away makes one a "chicken shit". It seems to me that chicken shits are likely to live longer, so please, let my boyfriend be a chicken shit!

I can't help feeling that this is Simon's influence. I like Simon. But Simon has a habit of getting VERY drunk and volatile if he is provoked while he is drunk, but other than that he is a nice guy.

Why are men such IDIOTS? What if those guys had pulled out a gun? What if they had shot Alex or Simon or both? What if, years from now when we have children, I have to explain to them that their father is dead from fighting like a dog in a bar? I said this to him. I know it probably hurt, but when you love someone, sometimes you have to say words that hurt to help them understand what they're doing. He told me he's not going to go to bars anymore at all from now on. After all, if you're not ever at bars, it is difficult to get into fights there.

Still, my heart is broken. I can't be there with him right now, and all I desperately want to do is hold him and kiss his wounds better...

1 damned the man  ♦  damn the man

Alex [Friday, December 23rd, 2005 @ 3:58am]
[ mood | loved ]

I'm floating on cloud 9.

I just called home to my boyfriend in the US and he was very sweet and romantic with me, telling me how much he loves me and misses me. But he also said something else: that he wants me to be his wife! He's never said that before. It's always been made very clear that my ultimate goal in our relationship is marriage, but he has been hesitent. He's divorced from a very, very bad marriage and he's afraid to repeat a similar experience. Tonight his attitude about it was so different, though.

I think it is the fact that I've been in England visiting my father and my absence has helped Alex to see how important I am to him. Either way, I was so happy to hear him say that he wants me to be his wife. It made my heart soar... :)

Te Amo, mi vida, por siempre.

damn the man

Anger [Thursday, December 22nd, 2005 @ 10:49pm]
[ mood | crushed ]

I'm not the kind of person that can stay angry for long periods of time. I do try. I try very hard. I steel my eyes and draw my lips into a flat line and determine to communicate clearly and non-verbally my extreme displeasure. However, then whomever I happen to be upset with makes a joke, or I am given time to reconsider and even begin to feel guilty for my actions, and my anger and resolve to remain angry fades.

However, I still think it is utterly wrong for my father to have just done what he did. It is absolutely not fair to put me in a difficult place where I feel forced to choose between him and my mother. It hurt. Despite whatever my mother has done, she has never made me feel as if I should choose between them.

It would be nice to not be sick anymore.

damn the man

Drama-rama [Friday, December 16th, 2005 @ 12:21am]
[ mood | drained ]

Squishy and I are not on speaking terms right now-- not that we were technically on speaking terms in the first place, Squishy being a rat without the capacity to speak, and not that there are actually any rats with the capacity to talk.

Anyway, we're not on friendly terms because he chewed a nice couple of holes in the power supply cable for my laptop, which is now unusable because it sat draining battery power for the entire night while I slept, after Squishy had made himself a meal out of the cable. He's lucky he's not a crispy critter after that little stunt. I thought he was brazen for chewing holes in my blanket, but this incident goes beyond brazen to suicidal tendancy.

I wish I trusted my boyfriend more than I do but our past makes that very difficult for me. I want to trust him, I really do. But I don't. When he's on the phone with a girl, speaking to her in spanish, my mind automatically reaches for an accusation like "that's his other girlfriend" or "he's flirting with her right in front of me!" and then he explains to me that it is his sister.

But how do I really know that it is his sister, anyway? The fact of the matter is that he's admitted to me that he used to cheat on his ex-girlfriends regularly and he's threatened to cheat on me when he's been angry. That doesn't build trust, not at all. It isn't only his fault, though. He wouldn't be the first person I had difficulty trusting...

If he is cheating on me, it will kill me. I see my future when I look into his eyes and it is all that I want to see for the rest of my life. I love him so much.

damn the man

Because it's 4:30 AM... [Tuesday, November 29th, 2005 @ 4:28am]
[ mood | crazy ]

...and there isn't much else better to do at 4:30 AM. Uh. Except sleep.

No, it's mine!Collapse )

Some back-story on the image: the scene was my sister's wedding and the latino gentleman in the front of the crowd earnestly leaping for the garter is my boyfriend, Alex. What proceeded after this picture was taken was a five minute battle in which my boyfriend and one of these other guys both refused to let go of the garter. Laughter was great.

I'm not sure exactly who I'm telling this story to, anyway. Maybe future readers? Or my future children? Who knows.

damn the man

Sleep is elusive. [Tuesday, November 29th, 2005 @ 3:34am]
[ mood | thoughtful ]

I can't sleep.
I could sleep but I probably won't.
I'm not sleeping tonight.
I havn't slept tonight.

I find myself engrossed often in the desire not to sleep, even when my eyelids are heavy, when they burn with that natural inclination to close for a period of six to eight hours. Here I am, on one of those nights.

"Every moment of our life belongs to the present only for a moment; then it belongs forever to the past. Every evening we are poorer by a day. We would perhaps grow frantic at the sight of this ebbing away of our short span of time were we not secretly conscious in the profoundest depths of our being that we share in the inexhaustible well of eternity, out of which we can for ever draw new life and renewed time." ~ On the Vanity of Existence, Arthur Shopenhauer

I had my final self-defense exam today. I got an A. I really hit our so-called "padded assailant" square and powerfully in the side of the head with such gusto that I even surprised myself. Hence his being padded.

damn the man

Trouble Sleeping [Monday, November 28th, 2005 @ 1:46am]
[ mood | tired ]

I can't sleep. I spent the last half hour laying in bed, thinking about... everything; how jaded I feel here at school; my relationship with Alex; feeling torn between two different paths in life, two different belief systems, and my family and my boyfriend. My life is composed of opposing forces, energies at constant war with each other.

If I could just manage some sleep tonight... I'll try the meditation technique that I read about today. The basic steps were:

1) Find a comfortable place to lay down, where you will not feel sore. Be sure you will not be interrupted by anyone, either. If people are in the house, request that they try to be quiet and not enter the room you are in. Relaxing environmental music works well, but I like to use earplugs and be in complete silence.
2) Close your eyes and envision a white light encompassing your body, becoming brighter and dimmer at your will, but ultimately brightening.
3) Surrounded by that light, breathe in through your nose and hold your breath for four seconds, then release through the mouth. Do this repeatedly, and then when ready, allow your breath to fall into a steady, relaxed pattern.
4) Imagine you're lying on the beach in the sand and the sun is shining down upon your body. Imagine it warming first your feet, then your calves, your knees, your thighs, your hips, until you reach the top of your head and you feel completely warmed.
5) Bring a single thought into your mind that you want to focus on-- any thought, as long as it is singular. If it should be interrupted by an intruding thought, imagine that intruding thought being written on a chalk board, and then erase it and return to your focused thought. Do this for five minutes, or until you find that you can focus on your thought without interruption.
6) To come out of meditation, repeat this procedure in reverse. Imagine the warmth leaving your head, then your neck, then your chest, until the sun on that beach is gone, and then imagine the bright white light growing dimmer, until it fades away. When you find yourself aware of your returning senses, open your eyes.

damn the man

God and the Devil [Sunday, November 27th, 2005 @ 8:13pm]
[ mood | hungry ]

I'm still quite stuck in the mind-set of what I have been taught in the past: satan causes all "evil" acts, where such acts include everything from the local murder to "spiritualism". It is hard for me to not automatically think that magic is an act made possible by Satan for the sake of making it seem real, in order that "God's people" will be lead away from him. It's been programed into my brain so complexly that it replays in my mind like a tape-recorded message whenever the context of my situation calls for it. I barely even question its logic anymore than I would question the logic that this laptop I am using is indeed sitting in my lap. The concept is as concrete and tangible to me as the laptop is, not because it is one that is logically sound, but because I've been taught not to question its existence.

It's difficult to let go of it and to disallow it frightening me from my exploration. However, at the same time blaming so much "sin" on one deity seems simply to be displacement ofresponsibility. "It is the Devil that causes us to sin" just as the devil enticed Eve to take that apple, to offer it to Adam.

Are humans so rediculous that they would create two deities-- one that offers us a life-time of subjugation and "everlasting life" there-after, and one that offers a life-time pleasure principle followed by the fiery pits of hell-- and then pronounce themselves monotheistic, claiming only the God that chains us here on earth, but "loves us" so much that we will obtain eternal life as long as we do claim him? That doesn't seem entirely logical to me. Perhaps I am beginning to question, after all.

damn the man

Bathroom Behavior and Black Friday [Friday, November 25th, 2005 @ 10:32am]
[ mood | crazy ]

I just can't complete my business when there is someone else in the bathroom with me-- watching, hearing, and yes, smelling. I can't even accomplish a transaction with the bathroom door open. There is one exception to that law of nature where my bathroom behavior is concerned: my sister. But other than her, let no one else pass: my mother, my boyfriend, my best friend, no one.

So my brother-in-law reacted quite strangely this morning when, on the occurrence of not being able to close the bathroom door, I instead closed the bedroom door where he was still lying in bed, so that I could at least have that barrier between myself and him. It isn't a matter of being afraid that he will spy on me, not at all. However, I need the sound-barrier. Otherwise I would be required to with-hold my business for another... business place.

Speaking of business and transactions! It's Black Friday. There will be much carnage and blood spilled today upon the grounds of many shopping malls. I will be right there on the frontline, dodging half-crazed mothers looking for cheap, in-demand Christmas gifts and glassy-eyed women looking for the best deals (while trying desperately not to become one myself). Luckily my boyfriend will be there with me to save me, should I begin to succumb to the madness myself.

damn the man

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