Neno

I really think he's getting bigger every night. I swear last time i visited he was not as large as he is this time... Even the other day when he spent the morning in bed with me I kept saying, "man, you look big, Neno..." and then just now when i saw him i thought he was much bigger than even the other day. I mean, his head is bigger than my fist....
And I don't just mean the fuzz part.

His SKULL is bigger than my fist.

Now, that's a big cat...

Sometimes I think maybe he's not truly a fully domesticated cat. Maybe he's half lapcat half jaguar, and he's not growing out of proportion, he's just becoming the jungle cat he was always meant to be...

Volvo: Plenty of room for friends and tubas

I've always been bothered by people who flake on things with zero notice whatsoever. I don't mean calling five minutes after they were supposed to be somewhere. There's a special circle of hell already reserved for those people... No, I mean the people who will actually make plans, and then when it comes time to execute them, will just simply NOT, for whatever reason, and give no notice, and make no attempt at communication, as if they simply disappeared.

And then afterwards, when it is clearly too late to do anything about it, a voicemail is left as if that would help things. What is the mentality behind that? How can anyone think that NOT talking to the person you're supposed to meet up with could ever solve an altercation? If you really don't want to hang out, just say that. I'm okay with that... But to be blown off? That's really disrespectful, and that I have a problem with.

I kind of expect it sometimes, though. Usually from the people from whom it would hurt the most. I make myself expect it just in case it actually plays out that way. It's a defensive strategy. It's not because they're bad people, or any more prone to doing that... It just hurts more from them...

Because those are the people I'm supposed to be able to trust not to do that kind of thing. Theoretically, they care enough about me not to do that. So it always hurts more when they do it, because it seems that much more underhanded and disloyal...

I suppose I'm just being ridiculous, expecting this from them... None of them seem to have the same opinion about the way morals should be held as I do...

What do we want?

Fry's dog!

When do we want it?

Fry's dog!!!

Cadaver-Seeking Dog

haha, cadaver seeking-dog...


It has become my opinion that modern law-enforcement animals are being abused. How could anyone think it fair to train any creature to sniff out dead bodies? I mean, think about that: that guy's job is to smell rotting flesh. When he smells it, it's a good thing, and when he doesn't smell it, something is wrong. That creates issues all in and of itself... That has to be something like the Ugandan boy getting a headache when he didn't see blood. You just know that dog's gonna be fucked up.

Missed Opportunities

Do we ever really realize what is going on around us? Can we ever truly understand the weight of a situation when we're in it?

I'm watching a History Channel documentary called "Beyond the Big Bang," and in one instant am shown an interview with this elderly scientist named Ralph Alfer, who gives a sound byte about a scientist named Hoyle. It isn't an astonishingly revealing sound clip, nor is it anything anyone else couldn't have said, but it obviously displays that the History Channel was able to get an interview with Ralph Alfer. 74 seconds later, a young scientist by the name of Brian Greene is discussing Hoyle, and explaining how Hoyle himself wasn't really a mathematician, and depended upon "this phenomenally talented graduate student of his, Ralph Alfer..."

Before seeing the post-production version of the documentary, was Greene even aware that the History Channel was in touch with Alfer? This is obviously a hero of Greene's. Were the two introduced? Did Greene ever have the chance to meet Alfer? If so, was he able to accurately express to Alfer the extent of his admiration for the man's work? Or was he left unaware of his proximity to this hero until after the History Channel had released Alfer from his conversational duties?

Where are you going?

What a question.

I wish I could tell you.

There is such a dilemma created by this question. Especially when there are conflicting destinations.

On the one hand, the destination is far away from home, and all the problems and current vexations. On the other, not so much movement, not so far from home, but with much better company than recent commonality. A choice to be pondered, especially if one is already committed to the latter- has been committed.

To choose the former would mean a good chance at happiness. There is very little there to negatively affect. The effects of the latter, while also therapeutic, are not so drastically felt. The draw to the latter, however, is that it was presented and committed to first, and to not choose it would be to betray those to whom the commitment was made. But to not choose the former would be to hinder the already damaged relationship with those involved.

It's a tricky decision to make, and I think what we choose says a lot about our personalities...

Save

I am so excited.

I found my Lazarus, and killed all my superfluous applications, and now my computer has a gig and a half of free space, leaving me plenty of room to create my project, and then some!

I'm so excited about being able to save again!!! I got so hyped about it that I went all the way downstairs to tell Jenna about it.

Me: I was working, and then added another picture, and then -click- Save!!!!
Jenna: ... ok...
Me: Ok. I'm gonna go back and work some more so I can SAVE AGAIN!!!

:D

media of the day:
http://www.hallikainen.org/windoze/winrg.swf

Go. Click. Explore... Write me a response of what you think of it, and then when you're done with the file, SAVE IT!!!

I Am Fortune's Fool

It's happening again...

I can feel it in my heart.
In the emergency reflex that contracts the tendons that pull the muscles and squeeze it like fruit to make it drip out distress-
dripdrip.
drip drip.

We have this repertoire, Fortuna and I.
Dawn's first gasping breath over the edge of the wheel brings the putrid, musky reminder of the toil to come.

It is truly only my recurring dream of clawing desperately at the wood,
being overtaken by the immense weight, and
(finding myself shackled by my wrists to the spoke below me)
diving head first into the ground that awakens me from my pacified, naive state,
and reminds me of the Pleiades,
those ungrateful hens.

Unable to speed or slow the passing of time, I watch, clairvoyant of what is to come.
Of course I struggle (for who wouldn't struggle), but what struggle has ever resulted in peaceful harmony?

I see the course, attempting to learn its steadfast route so I may derail it, change it, or pause--

to live another month at the crest would make the fall so much more bearable

-- it continues as normal, unheeding of my cries.

Protest does nothing but teach me to shout.
Struggling does nothing but teach me to fight.
Acceptance does nothing, but teach me to love.

The people we know and those whom we rely on tend to have an inexplicably large impact on the way we think, the way we act, and the way we interact. The people we chose to surround ourselves with have a similar impact on the way we consider ourselves, even if neither we nor they realize it. With some we think of ourselves as lazy, with some mean, with some incredibly generous. We see not how we truly are, but as a reflection in this other person of what the person does not possess. We ourselves do not change, only the standards, expectations, or needs of those around us do. To make these people more comfortable, therefore, we provide for them these things by emphasizing the parts of ourselves that cater to what is lacking. This happens all the time, sometimes to a higher degree than other times, and if we're not careful, sometimes it can consume us, and we can lose our true selves in it.

Just thought I'd share.

Living might mean taking chances, but they're worth taking.

(as written on December 13th, 2007)


Of all the years I've ever lived
Yours is the one I'll always miss.

They tell me love is a mistake worth making
But when the clock has run
And the mistakes are made
I haven't learned a thing.


In the two seconds' time

(it takes)

to realize mistakes

(my heart)

I love again

(forever)

and can only hope

(to recover)

Insanity is the same plea for difference.
Am I losing my mind? Or just going crazy?
I love like I've never been hurt.
I have been hurt.
And I've been hurt, and I've been hurt, and I've been hurt.
And yet I still love.

I like to feign inability
To protect myself from future hurt
If you don't know I love you
You won't know you're hurting me
You can't get pleasure from it
And it will bore you.

But I love.
With All My Heart.

I have no regrets.
I'm only sorry you can't say the same.

Errors in Calculation

So, I went skydiving today... With G and her friends. It was pretty fun. I'm pretty sure it's meant to be more exhilarating than I felt it... I don't feel like I really got everything out of it that I could have. Like, I should have been focusing on how amazing it was that the ground was hurtling toward me at an amazing 180 mph, or that I had just jumped out of a moving airplane 15 thousand feet above the ground, or how beautiful everything around me was, or how far I could see.

But instead, I found myself thinking about how incredibly dry my mouth was, and how I couldn't breathe out of my nose because of speed, and how it felt much like I was drowning, what with the not being able to breathe and all. And I thought about how my shirt was hurting my stomach, and how the harness was hurting my left femoral artery, and where my feet were, and where my hands were. I don't feel like I really saw any of it at all.

I was expecting this huge rush, and some life-perspective-altering feeling of goodness, or euphoria, or something. I think I had it built up in my mind as amazing, but then when it actually happened it wasn't what I expected, and I didn't know how to deal with it.

But people talk about how different the second time really is, and how much more of it you experience than in the first time, so maybe when I go with my sisters I'll be better able to focus. My grip of life has been incredibly off lately. I've felt really disconnected all week, and I really don't like that. It makes me feel like a passenger to my life, and that I have no control, and I really don't like that feeling. I also don't like the way it makes me act like her, and how it can be used as a scapegoat for everything she does, and now a lot of the things I do or think about doing I think about how much they seem like things she would do. I disgust me.



Also, I've realized an enormous error in a calculation of mine: every time I get really close to a friend, that person inevitably moves away from me, or at least get separated from me (whatever the etiology may be). Jess N and Jenn A- moved to Sacremento within half a year of each other. Ben K- went to private high school. Michelle G- went to high school across town. Ann C- goes to school in Boston. Mel M- goes to school in SoCal. (Sadie went SoCal for a while. She's back now, but how long will I have her?) And now Beth's family is moving to Washington, and Kristin is thinking about the east coast as well.

Always before when one would move away I would simply reach out to another, trying desperately to not let myself fall. It's only the closest of friends that have ever moved away from me, and those who are not that close never seem to go anywhere, constantly leaving me with a bunch of people I know, and interact fine with, but not entirely comfortable around. As soon as I try to get closer to them, they move. So it makes sense that I should just stop trying to get close to people. I mean, logically, that's the solution, right?

If executing a certain action results in a failure, then logically the way to avoid that failure is to not utilize that action. I just need to stop getting close to people, and then they won't feel compelled to get away from me.

I'm Just a Notch in Your Bedpost, But You're Just a Line in a Song.

Today I was stepping into the street, and looked left to find the front of a very familiar truck with a very familiar blue Santa Cruz auto dealer plate staring back at me.

Erin was walking next to me, and we were going to the Baytree to buy scantrons. We had stepped off the curb in a synchronized movement. There were no cars waiting at or approaching the stop sign in front of us, and the truck was still completely across the intersection. I had one of her ear buds in my ear, and we were listening to something, but I don't remember what it was. I didn't hear it.

In that instant of recognition everything around me evaporated, and I was no longer in control. The only thing I was aware of was that truck coming at me, and fast. For the majority of the moment I was convinced she would not slow, but would continue to claim my physical existence as she had claimed my faith in the ability of humans to treat one another with respect, and loyalty, and an unending kindness. Faith in the idea that people can simply get along, no matter their differences, and if they clash, talk it out.


All I saw in that instant was her, behind the wheel.
All I heard was the roar of the engine.
All I felt was the beating of my heart ceasing.


I don't know that she knew it was me, but I can assume she did. I don't know that I know whoever it was that was sitting in the passenger seat, but I can assume I do. I don't know that she saw that I saw her, but I can assume she did. I don't know that she appreciates that I made no move to indicate recognition. I can assume that it makes no difference to her. If I had waved to her (even the polite half-wave pedestrians give motorists for not killing them) I don't think she would have waved back. I think she probably would have assumed that I wanted to pretend I still know her.

It may have hurt her for me not to give her any recognition. She brought that upon herself. It is possibly (however unlikely) that seeing me today jarred something- dare I say it- human in her, and now she's going to consider what she did to me, and attempt an apology and reconciliation. If that were the case, I don't think I'd want to forgive her, but honestly don't think I'd be able to stop myself.

I don't know that I'm thinking about this way more than I should, or that she's not thinking about it at all, or that she never did, or that it didn't affect her in the slightest.

But I can assume as much.



I don't claim to understand how our world works, or why.
But I sure would like to know who decided to put me in front of her car today.
I would like to know who or what made her not hit me.
And I'd like to know who or what is making me wish she had.

I die without you...

Today was Leadership Training Day in Kappaland, and our whole CC went north to the Pi chapter house for the whole day.

The getting up superearly part was not really my favorite, but I mentioned to keep focused until we started doing some really cool teambuilding activities. In one, Felicity would read two contrasting ways to approach a situation, or contrasting traits, and indicate sides of the yard, and we had to choose sides.

For the most part everyone was equally split on the issues, because most of them were a little trivial, like "I like to keep things tidy," or "it looks like a mess, but I know where everything is."

And then there were other, heavier questions, like "I see my council mates as professional colleagues" vs. "I see them as my close personal friends." For that one on the side of friendship it was myself and Charlotte, and everybody else was on the other side of the fence.

Which was the scariest thing I learned that day: some of the most important issues our chapter council will face, the council will be a united front, and will attack from one direction. Except me. (And sometimes Charlotte.)

My Dreams Are Out To Get Me...

So, I have a newfound reason to be an insomniac (not that I needed a reason to be before)... My dreams are set on making me hate myself.

Which I guess is not that bad, cos it's taking up all my energy, and i don't have time to hate anyone else... Or feel anything else, for that matter, although that may be a side effect of the "trying-not-to-be-overly-emotional-about-being-erased" thing...

In one night I dreamed that we were moving Amma and Papa back into town, and they were going to live with Steph. At the same time, I knew that it was the middle of summer, and that I had enrolled in summer school, but for the past half-week or so, hadn't been attending, and felt incredibly guilty about it.

Another night, I don't remember what was happening, but there were many people who were pointing out to me (as if I hadn't noticed) all the things I most avidly dislike about myself. They're not huge things, but everyone has her insecurities.

Then there was the one wherein She and I were closer than ever, and almost inseparable. That was the worst of all.


Even in spite of all this, however, I find myself sleeping for unreasonably numerous hours... The normal seven/eight hours has been elongated to ten, twelve, even fourteen hours of repose. Simply because I don't want to get up.

I don't really know what this is about... but it's starting to frighten me.

A Wedding Poem by Carrie Bradshaw

His hello was the end of her endings,
Her laugh was their first step down the aisle.
His hand would be hers to hold forever,
His forever was as simple as her smile.

An ocean couldn’t prevent it.
A New York minute wouldn’t let it pass.
Does the universe decide for us,
Which love will fade and which will last.

He said she was what was missing.
She said she instantly new.
She was a question to be answered.
And his answer was “I do.”

I've always liked this poem.
It's so simple, and so romantic, and so perfect.
And the scene it's in says a lot, too.
She's reading it to commemorate Love, and he gets up and walks away.

He walks away. In the middle of her poem about commitment.

And isn't that the way it always goes.

You're in the middle of having a revelation, and your audience stands, and tells you everything you've believed was a lie, was a game, and walks away.

How can anybody expect anybody to be balanced, and whole, and sane after doing something like that to them?

I hope you realize what you've asked of me, and what you've done.

I hope you realize that in doing this you've repeated the offense of so many before you.

I hope you realize this is what you promised not to do.


This is what you were so appalled at when it wasn't you.
And now that it is you, there are no second thoughts.

I hope you realize that someone who truly values "peace, <3, empathy, acceptance and an open heart" would never let this happen.

We both thought we were kindred spirits, but it turns out we weren't. You got bored, and I got hurt. It is so unspeakably unfair that because you chose not to love me, I don't get to love you.



Thanks for finally making me realize that what I've dreaded to accept is The Absolute Truth.



Of all the interpersonal relations I've experienced in my life, the one with you was by far the most incredibly painful, and the one I'd be most willing to relive. I have been more hurt by you than by any other person I have ever come into contact with. But we both know I wouldn't forget you for the world.

my spirit paper

So, I'm writing my spiritual journey...

... and two things are happening...

1) I'm on an amphetamine high, caused by 330mg methylxanthine and 300mg caffeine. Off and on during this trip my head hurts, I can't feel my fingertips, I've become increasingly dyslexic, my heart hurts, my right lung feels ready to collapse, I'm having trouble breathing, and there's a throbbing, yet dull pain on the right side of my lower back.
But my productivity is up about 750-800%, and I'm enjoying the increased introspection.

2) The more I write about it, the clearer it becomes. I've come to realize that the reason we weren't agreeing with each other before is that neither of us was truly listening to what the other was saying. I know we both probably heard each other, and to testify to this I can regurgitate what she was saying, and am better able to understand it. But we were both so preoccupied with trying to convey meaning, that we both forgot to truly listen and try to empathize. We were both so displaced by this that we were both completely skewed from our normal states of being.



Mmbien, I have to go finish this paper.

Testing, 1, 2, 3

Have you ever been in a situation where you were doing something, and then stepped back from whatever you were doing and wondered whether it was real, or whether someone was just testing you? Like the clinical trials we have to do for psych classes, but in real life? (Or what you considered to be real life?) Ever thought on what you were doing, and wondered if maybe someone was running a test on you, to see how you'd react in a certain situation? To see how everyone would react to a given set of parameters? Even thought on it so long that you were certain it must be true, and that someone was definitely watching your behaviour? It's an extremely disheartening, un-empowering, violated way of thinking... It makes you wonder what, if anything, is truly real, and what merely a test of your character, your weakness, or your self-discipline. It makes you feel a little displaced, and a little paranoid.

Sometimes I think of A∑∆ like that, and I truly wonder.

My Revelation

So today I got to hang out with Yvette, which was the high point of my week in and of itself...

There's nothing better than that, to me... Than to be able to spend time with someone as incredible as she is. To be able to talk to someone with whom you are so mentally linked, who truly understands you. It's fantastic.

Well, this time was especially enlightening. We started off with dinner, which was this crazy-good red sauce that was absolutely fabulous over pasta (and would've also made a wonderful salad dressing), and a little bit of scrap-booking. But it gets better...

In addition to getting to spend the evening with her, she got me stoned for the first time in my life. And i don't mean just a little bit. Stoned off my ASS, stoned.

I remember at one point sitting up against a wall, thinking about how tall Yvette was, and wondering why I didn't think it was physically possible to move. My vision kept doing this wonky thing where it made everything look like it was one step past 3D, and it was hard to focus. I remember thinking at the time that I had developed the ability to see in the fourth dimension.

I also remember she kept talking to me, expecting me to retain information, as if that were humanly possible... Well, it felt to me like the world was restarting itself every three seconds. Like that's how long my attention span was. It felt like chapters of a dvd, but could probably be better described as a dream-state. Like that feeling when you're dreaming, and you move from one REM cycle to the next, and the entire contents of your dream shifts, but there are a few things that remain constant (people you're with or stuff like that), and you can feel that you're not in the same part of your dream as you were. It was like that. To say I felt like I was dreaming is not entirely inaccurate, and for that reason.

I kept trying to put words to the feeling, and I remember telling Yvette that I felt like a cartoon, and thinking that I felt like I was made of the rubbery plastic material that Barbie dolls are made from. I also remember feeling that the world was not really made of three dimensions, but rather that it was made in two dimensions, and then seen from the wrong angle. Like when you put a bunch of pieces of paper or cardboard or something flat up parallel to each other, and then go stand 90 degrees from them, looking at them perpendicularly. So like from one angle it would look something like this |||||, but from the angle we see it, it's all perfectly normal. 2 1/2 D, I guess you could call it.

It was a strange experience, and completely liberating, while entirely terrifying at the same time...

I'm definitely interested in trying again, to see what happens, or if I missed anything, but I think for right now I'll stick to my other vices. ;) Maybe I'll try it again once I have more free time.

Dear Boy in Clinical Who Kicks My Chair,

Stop it.

Truly, we are in the Second Grade when, in a Clinical Health Care class at a prestigious University of California, you insist on distracting me by repeatedly knocking the back of my chair with your foot. I sympathize that there is not an abundance of leg room between rows in these classrooms, especially since the designers had to accommodate 8 billion people, but surely your feet (which are not all that big to begin with) can fit under your own chair, or even- and I know this is a revelation- on the floor.

Also, tell your girlfriend to get HER feet off the back of my chair as well. She is not nearly as distracting as you, insofar that she does not create vibrations and a tapping noise, but alas, every time she shifts her feet, my hair gets caught between them and the chair back, effectively pulling it whenever I breathe. I understand the need for her to constantly readjust, seeing as how she has her feet up on the back of the chair next to the one in front of her, and this diagonal can be quite a stretch. But I assure you both, if she removes her feet from my chair this problem will disappear completely.

You might also want to note, that if the two of you desist, you will in fact get to keep your feet. Otherwise, I might be inclined to remove them FOR you.

Cheers.

Dear Santa Cruzians,

I need your help! I am in the most painful circumstances, and need a kind, loving, sympathetic soul. My doggy and I are currently separated by twenty-six miles of the harshest, most horrible mountain road called Highway 17. I travel on this road as many weekends as I can to see him, and pet him, and play with him, but it seems every time I am forced to leave him to return to school mere moments after we settle in to nap together. This is the most heartbreaking feeling, and I die every time I have to kiss him on the head and shut the door between us. If only my doggy and I could be reunited, I know we would both be much happier. As I live on campus, however, my poor puppy is not welcome in my home, and to admit him would be to lose it. I need a caring soul who would be willing to house my doggy in Santa Cruz, as near to campus as possible so that when one of us is lonely we can visit each other without the hours of transit from campus to Metro Center, from Metro Center to Diridon Station, from Diridon to that soft, feathery fur, and excited wagging tail. Please, people of Santa Cruz! Band together, and find a SC home for my puppy so I never have to leave him again! I promise he'll fit in with the dog-friendly nature of the town, and he is yet to meet another dog he's aggressive toward...