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  • Silvertree

    Mod post: No wishlist posts in blogs

    By Silvertree

    Please be aware that we do not permit swap-related content on profiles or in blogs. Please post this content only in the For Sale, Swaps, and Wanted forums, or in the Wishlists topic. ~from Swapping 101  Thanks!
    • 5 comments
    • 6,604 views
Fishnets and Frankincense
 

Another Prophet Raoul-ism

Last night another saying that I've only heard said by The Prophet Raoul -- if you don't know who I'm talking about, read my entry from a couple days ago -- came out of my mouth. Whenever Raoul was discussing something or someone that he found to be particularly unsightly, he liked to say: "If _______ was a dog, I'd shave its ass and make it walk backwards."   What a visual.
valentina

valentina

0
Is Anybody Out There?
 

Ch-ch-ch-changes

My mother decided to leave my father when I was 14 years old, an idea that I supported. Unfortunately, the method was all wrong. Instead of going through an attorney, she packed up the car and we rode off into the sunset. It was a whole big ordeal.   I was never one of those kids who was afraid of her parents getting a divorce. I occasionally prayed for it, even as early as 8 or 9 years old. I don't know- possibly before then.   When we left town, it was several days before he noticed. Days. He called my sister (from his first marriage), who was in her late 20s at the time, I believe. He was frantic about who was going to take care of him. It's always all about him. Most two year olds are less self-centered, and that's not hyperbole.   We eventually came back.   My mother's health is declining. Living with him has gotten progressively worse. So... she's decided to leave him. Finally. My fiancee (husband in less than a month!) talked her into seeing a lawyer and doing this right. It's just dredging up a lot of shit for me. There's SO much more that I can't process yet. But yeah. If I'm all over the place, that's part of the reason.
smallvoice

smallvoice

3
Diplomatka
 

Flying the Unfriendly Skies

I hate flying. Don’t get me wrong, I am not afraid of a terrorist attack or mechanical problems or the plane being shot out of the sky; I hate the process of flying. Going to the airport two hours before the flight, checking in bags, going through security, standing in line at passport control and customs, sitting around in the waiting area. And then, once I get on the plane, having to deal with people standing in the aisle putting bags away (unable to move for three seconds for me to pass), sitting next to the middle-aged Indian guy who farts and snores the whole ten hour flight, dealing with the toilets at the end of the flight with pee all over every possible surface and used tissues sticking out of every nook and cranny. The crying babies with the parents who act like I should give a shit that their kid is crying, while I put in earplugs and wait for the Xanax to kick in. Then getting off the plane somewhere in Europe, sitting around an airport for five hours and then doing it all over again.   And while I absolutely hate flying for these reasons, my hatred has suddenly become acute. Why? Ariana Afghan Airlines. Now if these three words do not make your blood run cold, consider the facts: in its 25 years Ariana has had one hijacking (in 2000 five Afghans took an internal flight to London—you probably heard about this on the news recently as all of the hijackers were granted asylum) and five crashes. Since moving to Afghanistan last year, I have been forced, repeatedly, to take Ariana Airlines when I want to get the fuck out of Kabul and each time has been a terrifying, humiliating and life-changing experience.   I must say that I am no light-weight when it comes to traveling. I have flown on Yak-40s, Tupelovs, and planes decommissioned by the Democratic Republic of Congo for christssakes, but nothing prepared me for the deep, irrevocable fear I feel when flying Ariana. This fear emerges when you first get to the gate. When traveling from Dubai to Kabul, you must go to Terminal Two. Terminal Two has none of the restaurants, shops and aesthetic touches of Terminal One. Indeed, Terminal Two is at the gateway to hell; a small hallway that looks like a series of trailers slapped together. The flights that leave from Terminal Two are only to god-forsaken places like Afghanistan: there are flights to Baghdad, Djabouti, and remote areas of Iran from Terminal Two, but never to any place with consistent electricity, running water, or a lack of armed conflict for the past 5 years. While purchasing alcohol at the one duty free shop in Terminal Two, I ALWAYS see the Russian pilot of my plane (he’s wearing an Ariana badge) buying vodka, which I pray he does not consume in-flight, but realize it might not be a bad idea. While checking out with my liquor stash the Phillipina behind the register asks me with wide eyes, “where are you going?” and “is it safe there?”   The atmosphere of Terminal Two is a microcosm of the situation in the Middle East and Central Asia: there are fatties from the Midwest with their “Operation Freedom” shirts, African American men wearing jeans and sneakers, white women who look like they took a flight from Wal-Mart to the UAE, Afghan men in their shalwar kamezes and wool caps, and Arabs in traditional headdresses. I always try to bury my head in a book and distance myself from the Americans, they are so culturally inept and embarrassing. I mean, you are going to the Middle East for fuck’s sake—do you think it is a good idea to wear a “Christ’s Gym” t-shirt?!?!   Once you check in it’s every woman for herself. In the waiting area, you will hear stupid British mercenaries go on and on about what happened recently in Kandahar while the Afghans (all male) sit and stare at everyone in silence. Once the airline worker walks through with a radio you know you’d better jump-the-fuck-up and run hell for leather to the door to be sure that you are the first motherfucker on the bus to the plane. Once on the plane, I notice that I am only one of about three women—all foreign—of the 150 passengers. The plane is hot, it smells like body odor and three-day old dahl. It’s an old Soviet plane, probably built in the 1960’s or 1970’s and it appears to be held together with duct tape. As I walk down the aisle the Afghan men eye me in fear that I will sit down next to them. Invariably, my assigned seat is broken, so I usually park it next to some pasty old Western dude. The Afghan men all stare at me like I am going to jump up and take off my top as we taxi.   Once in the air, I dare not look out the window at the jagged mountain tops mere feet below us. If I do, I start wondering how in the hell we could make an emergency landing if we needed to and every small tremor of turbulence makes me put a death grip on the armrests. I take more Xanax and try to sleep. Soon the food is brought around: a greasy chicken leg, a half a lemon, a hot pepper, some potatoes, and Afghan naan. I eat the hot pepper in naan and wonder, did they prepare this in Dubai? Before realizing that in fact the food had come from Kabul the day before and had been transported across Iran twice before it reached my folding tray.   The decent into Kabul is sharp; there are mountains all around and it is a quick two minutes till the plane is on the ground. As soon as we touch down, five Afghans stand up and open the overhead compartments while the crew yells over the loudspeakers in Dari for them to sit down. After we stop, I put on my head scarf and maneuver as quickly as possible to get off the plane. I have spent two hours in passport control before (a supervisor slapped a border worker, causing a work slow-down) and I wish never to repeat it.   Once I am off the plane, it doesn’t all seem that bad. We made it. But I know it is just a matter of time before the inevitable happens with Ariana; after all, it has happened five times before. So next month, on my way to Bangkok, you can bet your ass I will not be flying Ariana. I will be safe and sound on a UN plane.
Confection

Confection

0
Sourball Ho!
 

Let's watch some sports! *cheer*

Yes, the title is sarcastic. I do not understand the excitement of cultivating your ulcer around some dudes running around. DH isn't a huge football fan, thank goodness -- his drug of choice is basketball. So 5 guys running up and down the court dictate not only his mood for the evening, but it dictates our evening:   --we have to watch the pregame yakking about what a great game this will be. But I can understand anticipation (Update Speculation thread, anyone? )   --then it's the game, 2-3 hours of tense up-and-down, back-and-forth *yawn* At least DH isn't yelling at the TV during all this.   --don't forget, after the game it's post-game commentary! Oh goody. Lots of yakking about how the game went. If the team won then everyone played great against formidable opponents. If the team didn't win then it's the refs' fault.   I'm just bitter because I want to watch CSI reruns instead.
dawndie

dawndie

3
Emain Macha
 

Hungry Ghost Moon T-shirt

done!   (sorry, you can't see it yet.)   But I'm very happy with it. And may I give a brief nod to the drama-loving, bitter and spiteful folks over at the LJ BPAL anonymeme? Thanks to them, I had a healthy dose of hate and malice to channel into my art, and I'd like to think this shirt design reflects that.   What good is being an artist if you can't turn lemons into lemonade, right?
Macha

Macha

4
Gone Batty
 

Is it time to go home yet?

Oh my god am I tired. Lots of tossing and turning plus some freaky dream where I was married to David Haselhoff (who had long hair, wtf?!) made for a poor night's sleep. The night before was like that too only with a different weird dream. I wonder what my subconscious is trying to tell me. Maybe I don't want to know.   My husband has to go to Vegas for work in July and was asking me if I wanted to fly out towards the end of the week for a mini vacation. I like Vegas but I don't know if I want to go out there when it will be so beastly hot plus I'm not sure if I want to use more of my leave. We haven't figured out if we're going to Europe or Morocco in the fall yet so I don't want to take time off that may be better spent then. It also might make more sense to save up and go in the spring and take a few local trips.   I can't wait for the three day weekend to get here, even if I am on call.
miss apple

miss apple

2
Gone Batty
 

Dobeedobeedooo

Ok, I admit it. I went shopping yesterday. I didn't need to but I did it anyway. It was the MAC thread that made me do it. I just had to see the new lines and I haven't bought any thing new for a while...er, yeah. I thought I was going to get off easy with a couple of pigments and one of the new cheek stains but then I saw the new liquid liners and - swoon! They had aqua and lime, how could I turn that down?! After that I went down to the book store to pick up the last two Southern Vampire books that are available in paperback. Then I went to Urban Outiftters to check the sale rack because lately I've been finding some amazing deals there. Yesterday was no different and I scored a black lacey 80's style skirt that kinda looks like it got caught in the car door because it has an uneven hemline. Original price was $68 marked down to $4.99! Score!
miss apple

miss apple

0
Fishnets and Frankincense
 

Lady Day and Mister

Billie Holiday simply rocks my world. I was listening to her a bit this morning. Her music simply hits you in the heart. Even when she's singing a happy song or a love song, there's always a little pathos in her voice and I love it. Billie isn't my only favorite jazz singer, I also adore Ella Fitzgerald, and if you asked me to pick my favorite version of "The Way You Look Tonight" it would be Ella's, and not Billie's or Tony Bennet's.   But I digress. Billie loved dogs, and she had a Boxer dog named Mister that she loved like crazy. Since I have a Boxer named Mugzy (or Mister Mug, as I like to call him), I know why she was so devoted to him. A lot of people enjoy Billie because it's cool to say you like her or because she was an such an iconic beauty in her time. Actually, she had a tiny little voice that wasn't that pretty, especially compared to Ella or Sarah Vaughn or other great female jazz singers of her time. However, her style was incomparable.   And Billie also made some great comments about life in the course of her time here on earth, so here are a few:   “Don't threaten me with love, baby. Let's just go walking in the rain." "If you copy, it means you're working without any real feeling." "You can be up to your boobies in white satin, with gardenias in your hair and no sugar cane for miles, but you can still be working on a plantation." "You've got to have something to eat and a little love in your life before you can hold still for any damn body's sermon on how to behave."   I love that last quote. Amen, sister!  
valentina

valentina

3
Do you have a flag?
 

Shutting down alchemylab?

Hunh. I didn't know they could do that. I mean, I guess somewhere in the back of my head it must have registered that maintainers can shut down comms, but I was totally surprised by the announcement. To be honest I didn't know that Beth started alchemylab, I figured that some people started it with her blessing and she jumped in from time to time to make comments or suggestions.   It seems a drastic step, which makes me wonder how bad it's gotten for Beth and the Lab. I seriously bet there are times when she just wants to scream at everyone for being such nitpicky demanding dumbasses. (I just hope she's never wanted to scream at me for being said dumbass.)   Personally, I think that shutting it down is a great idea. Hell, if I ran a business and maintained a comm associated with my business, and the comm was full of people jacking up the prices on my products and selling them to make profits, and talking trash about my business and each other, I'd want to shut it down too.   I know that some people are upset because they feel like they'll lose touch with some folks they had gotten to know, but for the most part I think those of us who like to talk to each other are over here on the forums anyway. Hopefully the people who like the "community" aspect of alchemylab will come on over.
filigree_shadow

filigree_shadow

5
Is Anybody Out There?
 

Brain exploding

Trying to focus on other things... meh. I hate when life gets turned upside down, even when it's best in the long run... But this..? This is just dredging up awfulness from the past and present. It'll get better, but... man, it sucks right now. I'll go into more detail when I can. I'm paranoid at the moment.
smallvoice

smallvoice

0
Diplomatka
 

Panjwayi

Man, shit. I posted this then learned about an IED explosion in Wardak province that hit the vehicle of an organization that does humanitarian medical aid. A doctor, two nurses and the driver were killed. Remote controlled IED--hit the car head on and only the transmission is left. In Wardak? What the fuck is going on?   Usually it is only the military that is targeted, I guess that is all changing now. Gee, you might wonder why people are getting so pissed off:           mounts over civilian deaths in Afghanistan 1 hour, 1 minute ago   KANDAHAR, Afghanistan (AFP) - Villagers have insisted that dozens of civilians were killed in a coalition strike in Afghanistan, as rights groups voiced concern about mounting civilian casualties in days of fighting.     The governor of southern Kandahar province, Asadullah Khalid, said Monday that at least 16 civilians were killed early Monday in an air and ground strike in the province's Panjwayi district.   But a teacher in nearby Tulakhan village told AFP by telephone that he saw the bodies of 40 civilians, including children, and that about 50 others had been wounded.   The US-coalition said up to 80 suspected Taliban had died in the raid targeting Azizi village in Panjwayi, adding it was investigating claims of civilian casualties.   The teacher, named Abdullah, said he had assisted in burying 28 people and saw the bodies of 12 others being returned to their home village from other areas.   Eight houses in his village were destroyed in the bombing, several damaged and scores of animals were killed, he said from the area, which was still off-limits to journalists.   Other residents told AFP at the main hospital in Kandahar city on Monday that they had seen scores of dead and wounded.   An elderly man, Attah Mohammad, said he had lost 24 members of his family, including some children.   The strike was the latest incident in nearly a week that has seen some of the heaviest fighting in Afghanistan since the Taliban were removed in 2001 -- clashes that have left around 300 people dead, most of them rebels.   The International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC) and the United Nations expressed concern about reports of civilians being caught up in the violence.   The ICRC urged "the parties to exercise constant care in the conduct of military operations," describing the situation in the south as "worsening".   "At all times they must take all feasible precautions to protect civilians against the effects of any attacks," it said.   A UN spokesman in Kabul said Monday that "it is clearly important that everything possible is done to ensure the safety of civilians, as well as ensuring safety for UN and other humanitarian workers."   The insecurity was hampering the world body's work in the south, spokesman Adrian Edwards told reporters, but noted there were no plans to evacuate the area.   The coalition said it had targeted only compounds harbouring "extremists".   It said Monday it had called in warplanes after troops who were trying to capture insurgents in the area came under fire, while the governor said some of the militants had hidden in local people's houses.   There have been several major battles with insurgents during the past week, including a clash in Panjwayi last Wednesday and Thursday which Khalid said left 100 Taliban dead and netted some senior Taliban commanders.   The fighting has also claimed the lives of about 50 Afghans, besides those killed in the latest coalition raid, most of them from the fledgling police and army.   Five foreign nationals have been killed: two French special forces soldiers, a Canadian female soldier, an American soldier and one US civilian killed in a suicide bombing in the western city of Herat on Thursday.
Confection

Confection

0
Birdsongs
 

Happiness & sunshine

Today the sun is shining & all is right with my world. Yay for two happy days in a row! We have a house, will sign the lease soon. Everybody will have their own bathroom, and my brother will be able to get out of our parent's house & get a bit of a new start. The dog will have a yard to sniff around in, and there will be high-speed internet! Goodbye, evil dial-up.   Yesterday I started reading Little, Big by John Crowley. I've seen lots of raves for it & had it recommended by a friend whose opinion I trust, but haven't read it before. I tried once in high school, but drifted away. Also I remember being slowed down by having to look up more words than I was used to. I wasn't aware my vocabulary had increased that much since high school, but apparently it has, because so far I haven't come across anything I can't figure out. Odd ...   A few months ago, one of our friends started a book club because she was frustrated with the one she had been in, and our last meeting on Sunday was a lot of fun. Excellent discussion, over both the book (The Mysterious Flame of Queen Loana) and some tangential issues raised by the style it was written in. On the way home, Jason & I debated a couple of things that had gotten passed over in the general group discussion. My brain felt all exercised and happy, which got me all ambitious at work the next day - I picked out several exciting, thought-provoking looking books to read next (I work in a bookstore, so I can check out the new books). This book club has been a lot of fun - reminded me of the joys of reading a book with my thinking-hat on instead of just for relaxation or entertainment. Ah, brain-usingness - I forgot how much fun you can be!
spanishviolet

spanishviolet

2
Emain Macha
 

World Building: Language

Bard (whose presence I most definitely miss on the forums) and some other folks helped me out with a lot of my early concerns about invented language. Like the map-making, it's something I'm doing because it seems necessary — because the world just reads false if too much in it is easily identifiable as German or French or what-have-you.   And I've found language is often a quandry in fantasy literature. It is, by its very nature, a suspension of disbelief. So many words in the English language derrive from distinct cultural identity — the word "tawdry" could not exist without medieval Catholicism, and both "platinum" and "cannibal" would not exist without the Spanish conquest in the New World. It's an almost endless list. I've seen plenty of writers caution beginners not to use anachronistic words in their fantasy works. But...it's ALL a bit anachronistic, isn't it? Unless your fantasy world is set in 17th century England (which has happened of course) it's unlikely that they're speaking English. Any time we pick up a fantasy book set in some truly "fantasy" land, whether it be Middle-Earth, or Earthsea, etc., we have to accept that we are reading an approximation, and not the "native tongue." Sure, there are some missteps which should be obvious (we know not to use "freeway" or "airplane" unless there is a reason such things would exist) but most people wouldn't think not to use loan-words like "sabotage" or "juggernaut." Am I to avoid those words because they wouldn't be "correct?" They're such good words! Useful, sturdy words that do their job beautifully. I like them.   Steven Brust has a lot of fun with his languages, such as the tendency of every sentient race in his Dragaeran books to call themselves something that translates in English as "Human" or his place names. I remember one that, when broken down and translated, was revealed to mean "Ford Ford Ford Ford Ford" as each race who conquered the region kept the old ruler's name for the ford and then tacked on "ford" in their own language for clarity. The absurdity of it is brilliantly real.   So, after some thought on the matter, I decided that I would mess around with the language when 1)it would prove more poetic and unique than the English equivalent, such as for proper nouns, or 2)when using the English word would be jarring. For example, there is a race in my fantasy world that uses titanium as their metal of choice, using magic to reach the absurdly high temperatures required to work with it. But I can't call it titanium, can I? Not without my reader giving me a very strange look. And if I think titanium would be a bit too anachronistic in tone, what about aluminium? Oh boy. So clearly there was some need for an invented language, if only to give the reader a word that is unfamiliar rather than a word that seems wrong.   Many years ago, Jeffrey Henning (over at Langmaker.com) uploaded a very interesting little excel spreadsheet that allowed you to enter 400 root words and used that to derrive a vocabulary of 4,000 final words — more than enough for any language you might ever need. But I was never entirely happy with it. For one thing, it organized its vocabulary alphabetically by the sample language "Duplex" used in the spreadsheet, which meant that you were stuck using Excel's find feature if you wanted look up a specific word (and if you sorted by a different method to make the English words alphabetical you screwed up the spreadsheet.) Many of the vocabulary was clunky or unnecessary for a fantasy novel — a lot of the vocabulary attemped to come up with new words for technology or countries or advanced science terms. So I took the idea and recreated it. I ended up with 450 root words, but so far I'm very, very happy with the results.   Which is good...because now that I have my map done, I need to go back and name everything
Macha

Macha

7
Emain Macha
 

End of the Wank

Well, no one is ever going to see wank removed entirely, but I hear the anonymeme has been shut down by Live Journal because it overstepped the terms of the Live Journal service agreemeent: turns out that Life Journal WILL remove a site that seems to exist only as a means of harassment.   Good for them.
Macha

Macha

0
This Old Snark
 

Cat-Eye View

Xena knew something was up the way She was calling to her with that nearly-falsetto voice. She never called to Xena like that unless Something Bad was about to happen. Last time it had been twenty hours in that blasted carrier in the loud growling metal box, Junebug mewling plantively like the little whiny bitch she is. Xena had saved up her displeasure to generate one particularly foul poop that filled that metal box with the smell of her indignation.   Then they had been moved into a larger metal box that roared enough to shake the ground. By that point even Junebug was too terrified to make a noise. They were finally freed by Him into a small, carpeted room. Xena found all her new hiding places within the first few days.   After a while, it seemed perfectly normal to be two cats and two humans in a small carpeted room. There were three windows that opened out to trees and crazy talking people down below. The food stayed good, and the litter box was (mostly) fresh. Xena and Junebug got used to it and began to forget about their ordeal.   And then one day She came back from Outside, talking in that cracking, anxious voice that should have rumbled with impending doom. Xena recalls with horror how She resorted to using half of a wooden paddle to sweep her out from underneath the coffee table. A paddle!   Oh she hissed. She hissed and did that low, lingering growl bourne from sheer panic. She even released her bladder a bit, which only made Her voice go even higher.   Then He got home. He that was usually their saviour. And He stuffed her in the hamper. Traitor.   She was too frazzled to even muster a good protest poop as they rumbled in another metal box. Junebug still found the air to yowl a few good times, and Xena tried to answer back with her own timid "meh-reow?"s.   When the world stopped rumbling and lurching about, they found themselves in a small room that stank of laquer. The windows were too high to reach, and there was a lone lamp on the floor. The litter box was not where it was supposed to be, it was in the corner. There was food, but it tasted of ashes.   Xena nudged the litterbox out of the corner and created another slender hiding space. She stayed there for two days.   Junebug, and Xena is convinced that she might be a little damaged in the head for this, hid in her carrier every time they heard the clomp-squeak noises in the ceiling. Who hides in that place of impending anguish? Only cats who are Not Right in Their Heads, Bless Their Hearts.   Finally on the third day the door cracked open and He released them into... into what? There are too many places. There are windows to look out to trees, there are windows where they can see Them coming and going in their metal box. There are old familar smells behind the doors Xena has already figured out how to open, smells of His feet and Her perfume piled up and hung down like layers of comforting curtains in the dark. There are new smells and strange, smaller metal boxes. There don't seem to be other cats in these boxes, but They seem to spend a lot of time cooing at them anyway.   He has been gone for a few days. She seems to be quieter, less active because of it. She is giving lots of belly rubs, though, so Xena thinks it will all be OK. If not now, then soon.   She is still keeping an eye out for the carrier though, and a cautious ear for any change in register in Her voice.
darkitysnark

darkitysnark

5
Fishnets and Frankincense
 

Sensualism

If one wears BPAL scents, people who know you can't go into a department store, go to the fragrance counter, pick up the tester bottle of the fragrance you wear, spritz it on a card and walk around sniffing it, thinking about how it smells like you. There is a certain allure to this, assuming it's the right sort of person doing the sniffing. But let us not weep, for look at it this way -- because they can't go to the department store to sniff your fragrance, they have to come find you.   This thought crossed my mind because a guy I work with was patiently trodding around the mall with his wife over the weekend when she decided to sniff all the fragrances at the perfume counter. It gave him a headache and made him vaguely dizzy. He said he realized that they all smelled alike after a while, but nothing smelled anything like the perfumes that I wear.   I told him that his reaction was akin to people buying produce at a Farmer's Market and saying: "Wow, this tastes so much better!" Well yeah, the more natural the product, the more your senses are going to like it.   I have to wonder if the overconsumption of synthetic smells, tastes and textures starts to blunt the senses. And damn it, I am all about our senses! If we forget how to pay attention to them, we start to disassociate from our bodies and then what kind of fun are we having? Not as much.   I used to teach yoga every now and then, and the hardest thing for me was to try to get through to the people who are so disassociated from their physical selves. Sometimes the sense of dropping into their physical senses would cause them to feel anxious, nervous, frightened or terribly vulnerable. They either went into the feeling and worked with it, or they'd just shut down and stop coming to class.   So I think everyone who wears BPAL does a favor to society because we, at least for a few moments, make people drop back into their sense of smell when they get a whiff of something real.   The last statement is a great rationalization to more more oils from the Lab. Feel free to use it to pad your next order. Consider it your humanitarian work: "I must re-teach people how to smell." It's a tough job, but we're up to it.
valentina

valentina

0
Sourball Ho!
 

Avatar Love

As a by-product of the LJ drama, I wanted to post about people's avatars. I really like seeing everyone's avatars, especially ones who change them all the time (wink at valentina!). I should change mine more often too.   Avatars are so cool because they're teeny little pictures that represent whole people, and the more avatars seen the better. I don't care if you're changing them every day, or posting extras in your signature -- I love seeing them. Is it someone you're in love with, someone you want to be, or a cool picture of a flower that you think is rad?   Mine came from downtown Las Vegas (different from the Strip, where all the huge hotels are). Downtown is a lot of fun, because there are a bunch of older, smaller casinos within 3-4 blocks and you can walk from one to the next with ease. Someone had the idea of installing neon signs randomly from old bars & restaurants, so as you're walking down Fremont Street you'll look down a side street and there will be 3-4 signs with plaques in front so you can read about them. DH took a crapload of photos, both during the day and at night, and they're way cool -- unfortunately some are so large that they'd look like glowing blobs inside a teeny square. The "Restaurant-Bar-Jackpots" came out so clean and bright, I really like it.
dawndie

dawndie

3
Whiskers and Whispers
 

Eeek! Exams are almost upon me!

I stink of: Black Hellebore, and Heaven and Earth's Bunny at the Door   I'm really not looking forward to next Tuesday. I have my first exam-it's 'contemporary physics'-that's all 20th century physics including quantum, relativity and nuclear/atomic physics. It's going to be a three hour long one, and I'm already scared...however, past exam papers are so helpful. I used to prefer revising through reading, and whilst I still do this, I find doing questions, writing, calculating and practising is more effective. But it's also so monotonous...at least some concepts I was unsure of are sticking in my head. Now, for more studying...*snorts TAL Concentration*   At least I have a holiday in Crete to look forward to in the middle of June!
PurringPulsar

PurringPulsar

0
Fishnets and Frankincense
 

Weird sayings and The Prophet Raoul

There's a guy I know here at work who tends to use what I consider rather quaint and old-fashioned terms to express outrage, like "What in the Sam Hill?" and "Son of a buck!" I never hear anyone else use those terms, unless I would happened to head down to a senior center. Apparently "Sam Hill" somehow got started as a way to avoid saying "hell," but whenever I hear that term, I always picture the cartoon character Yosemite Sam.   I also used to know a guy from work who would say: "Well cheese and crackers!" when he was trying to not swear, which was on very rare occasions. I have never heard anyone else use that term in my life. I always found it really hilarious, because it was so odd and because this guy would normally use f**k like most people say "uh."   Then there was the guy who was seemingly the basis for Ignatius J. Reilly in the book "A Confederacy of Dunces." Seriously, he was a big, fat, extremely high-IQ person who lived in his own little la-la land most of the time. He made his living as a software tech support specialist. He used to go sit outside the building that he worked in and chain-smoke and hold court of the topic of the day. The bench that he sat on was made of some sort of industrial-strength recycled plastic and he warped the bench because he was probably 6'4" and around 400 pounds. His name was Jerry, but somehow I came to call him The Prophet Raoul, a term that amused him greatly. Two of his favorite terms were: "Well Christ on a bicycle!" and "I don't give a flying f**k at a rolling donut." The last comment always produced visions of this gargantuan man throwing himself at a huge rolling donut, trying to leap through the hole the way dogs jump through hoops.   Anyway, The Prophet Raoul shuffled off this mortal coil (another one of his favorite sayings, courtesy of Will Shakespeare) a few years ago. Anyone who has read "A Confederacy of Dunces" would probably agree that Ignatius was not a role model for health and long life. The Prophet was a huge football fan and he died laying around in bed while watching the Super Bowl on the day of the Janet Jackson wardrobe malfunction. It is my hope that he said to himself: "I've just seen a tit during Super Bowl halftime, I can die a happy man," and did just that.
valentina

valentina

5
HennaFairy's Blog
 

Meet and Sniff hangover

oh my. how do i describe the amazing experience of the meet and sniff?   meet. hug. hug dog. sniff. eat. sniff. hug dog. eat dessert. sniff. buy. sniff. buy. sniff. sigh. rest a little. sniff. eat. hug dog. leave.   my nose is still recovering. some scent, possibly one i took, may bother me. i am not too sure which one.   i am taking it slow with testing. after sampling eviltemptress's scents friday night, sniffing all day saturday, then sniffing what each other bought saturday night... and enabling my friends on sunday. my nose is overwhelmed!   but my boxes are much more full now! my wishlist is longer (and better refined...) i still have to update some reviews on bpal that didn't get posted yet, and continue to test all this new stuff!   the meet and sniff was a lot of fun, and i look forward to doing it again. i loved sampling so many scents, because it's so hard to judge based on descriptions and reviews alone! and i met some really cool people. and a really cool dog. and a really cool kid. that cat was cool too, even though i barely saw her.   oh and did i mention beard papa???? that was ALMOST better than the sniffies.   photos coming soon.
HennaFairy

HennaFairy

2
Sourball Ho!
 

Creating Drama

I know, creative title after all that went on this weekend, right? But it's not just the LJ stuff, it's this latest episode of Intervention I watched. Y'all watch Intervention, right? It's on A&E -- every week is 2 new people addicted to heroin, meth, alcohol, etc. and they're followed around in their pathetic lives until the exciting intervention (sometimes with Jeff! Hi Jeff! He's like Dr. Phil with a spine ) where they're given a choice to either get their lives back or continue their patheticness. The show's addictive, har!   It got me thinking about the LJ drama this weekend. There are some people who can't exist without drama -- either as a willing victim or an active participant. The show seems to feature many people who individually can't seem to handle "life" and all it implies, including "earning a living" and "dealing pleasantly with others." So if the drama exists, they don't have to deal with their own issues. Part of becoming an adult, though, is dealing with these issues. So someone posting anonymously and flaming people they don't even know except by an avatar are in need of drama, and if they have to create it they will.   So if everyone's represented by an avatar, what does that make me? Either I'm a gambling-addicted lush who eats food, or an actual restaurant. OOH! Can I be the Brown Derby? Cool!
dawndie

dawndie

3
Fishnets and Frankincense
 

Muck

This morning I set the alarm for 7:45 (way, way early for me on a Sunday) and went out to my back yard and bailed out all the old water in my two small garden ponds. They're pre-shaped plastic liners and a once-a-year emptying and refilling is a nice idea. So I was bailing out all the stinky old water and sludge and slime and it made me thing of the LJ wank. Generally, I consider that sort of behavior to be stinky and slimy.   While we relish our freedom of speech, the institutions that help give us freedom of speech (unless the current administration gets its way), like legislative bodies and courts, have very structured rules of debate. The procedures are there for a reason -- if it's a free-for-all, discussions can drop to the lowest common denominator and nothing constructive occurs. I consider the anonymous wank to be a free-for-all and the resulting discussion is generally worthless. While there may be nuggets of a legitimate discussion here and there, the presentation does not lend itself to anything but discord.   And that's all I'm going to say about this topic, because I think the more we just ignore the behavior and refuse to give the wankers the attention that they want, the sooner they will pick up their toys and move to another playground or simply go home and pout.   But damn it, I do adore that asshattery word. And I did know who Ron Jeremy was, pervy old bag that I am!   Oh yeah, for those of you who are old enough, do you remember an INXS song where he's reciting words, like appreciate, dedicate, ect? They should have had satiate in that song!
valentina

valentina

4
wendymehndi's BPAL Blog
 

My Ever Hopeful Big Wish Wishlist...

A gal can dream, right...? And so, the ISO...   Empty, partial, or full bottles... just MORE of... Fae Silk Road Belle Epoque Masabakes Verchernyaya   Any amount of... Monster Bait: Underpants Monster Bait: Closet     I'm *certain* this list will enjoy hearty and healthy updating! LOL!!
wendymehndi

wendymehndi

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