Friday, November 7, 2008
- Drug Addicts, or for that matter, anyone who follows drug culture so seriously.
- Gamer geeks who are so, to the point that they make an entire blog about their WoW Character.
- People who drink hot coffee in the summer. I mean..ICK!
- Smokers who sit next to me after having just had a cigarette.
- New mothers who not only want to tell you about their kids and send like a bazillion pictures every day, but want to tell you how their pregnancy went, how many catheters they had, how many times little Jimmy went potty and all the other TMI details.
- People not responding to IMs in the middle of a conversation.
- Know-it-alls and braggarts and arrogant fuck-heads.
- Apathy, just in general.
I'm sure there's more, but I'll leave you with this list.
Monday, August 18, 2008
I wouldn't say that I write poetry. I've always viewed poetry as silly and frivolous; only fit for those with no true talent. It's just the inane ramblings of those who are young and desperate for attention - or just desperate for attention.*
I wouldn't say that I write novels, because my ideas are varied and can change quickly - cycling through like songs on a jukebox. I don't have the doggedness required to plow through the slow spots. I want ACTION! I want COMEDY! I want DRAMA! While I have written two things that may be considered novels (or possibly only novellas), I don't know if I have the stamina to keep up that trend.
I wouldn't say that I write short stories, for I never know how to end or how much content to put in. I don't know how to be succinct without sounding terse and soulless. And even though my ideas cycle through quickly, I couldn't even say that they stick around long enough to carry a plot from beginning to end - no matter how long it is. I can be eloquent however, but that would take pages, thus defeating the idea of "short".
Therefore, I have concluded that I am the writer that writes excerpts, blurbs, passages; bits that say nothing in too many words; stuff that no one really wants to read anyway. I would say that my writing is more like a painting - art with words. I put words together based on their sound and they syllabicity and blend them into a landscape of color. I put my thoughts on paper as they come to me - instantaneous and abrupt. I am able to switch topics on a dime with a small transition. And I never know how to end things. So here I go....
*An addendum to my views on poetry: I know good poets exist. Reading their work makes one tingle and yearn, pine and rejoice. Your heart throbs with the rhythm and your eyes see stars. However, 99% of all poetry in the world is not this. It's crap, full of angst and forced rhyme. I agree that I too, have been a victim to this which is why I don't claim to be a poet. If, however, I should find out one day that my poetry is worthwhile, then I will have to rethink this definition.
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
1). GOOD GRAMMAR: I can't stress how important this is. If you want people to keep coming back to your blogs, make sure you spell correctly and use proper punctuation. Abbreviations or slang words are OK as long as it's obvious that you *meant* to do that (like dunno, gonna etc. or IMO, LOL, OMG). But spelling "it is" like "its", leaving out apostrophes in possessives (Daves cat) and adding apostrophes in plurals (plural's) makes you sound like an idiot or a child (and you can't have a blog if you're under 13!).
Paragraph breaks are another important aspect of your blog. It's easier on the eyes and doesn't overwhelm your reader with and insanely long chunk of text. Also, proper capitalization make the blog just that much more pleasant to read if it is done on a mostly consistent basis.
2). SOMETHING INTERESTING TO TALK ABOUT: No, talking about what you did yesterday like going to Pizza Hut, shopping at Super Target and then catching a movie is NOT interesting. Maybe you should talk about the movie, why you liked it, why you hated it, whether or not your friends should see it etc. etc. Or, reveal a funny story that happened to you when you were playing with your cat. Or give your opinion on the state of the world. Just say ANYTHING but:
at 12:00 we had lunch at China Buffet.
at 12:45 we left for the mall.
we got to the mall at 1:30 and putzed around until our movie started at 2:00.
Lastly, don't talk about your periods, your indigestion, or how sick like a dog you were last night and how many times you threw up/had diarrhea . And if you *must* relay that information. Be brief or be really funny. I mean for serious...NO ONE WANTS TO KNOW.
And let me tell you, you can't have one of these things w/o the other. BOTH are important to make a blog good and make your readers come back time and time again.
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
So, we all know the spectacular fail in my life. Though, I don't know if I would call it exactly spectacular as it was more of a winding down of an era. A slow painful death of a relationship where I realize now that it's better this way....
However, onto the things going well in my life. June has been a month of extreme changes for me. I got a real full-time job with good pay and benefits and retirement. I got a new apartment that is beautiful and has just enough room for me and my two cats. I'm starting to make new acquaintances and turning some of my acquaintances into friends. And I started getting back into salsa dancing. I wanted to just say how grateful I am for all these changes, even though they are stressful and sometimes overwhelming.
It is good to connect with old friends and to get to know other friends better. IT'S GREAT to have freedom again - to be who I want, when I want and to whomever I want. I'm not looking over my shoulder every second or catching my words wondering if they will be right. I'm not denying a part of myself that I think is not acceptable.
Fuck, acceptable. I'm who I am. While I try to be a good person, and to treat all others kindly I can't deny that sometimes I will make mistakes. And, as with all people, there are some parts of my personality that not everyone agrees with. But that does not make them wrong, that makes them me. So what if I'm loud, gregarious and flirty? I have a lot of personality squeezed into a 5'7'', 120lbs body so it's going to need some kind of outlet. And if someone can't handle my personality, then they can't handle me which means that I shouldn't try to conform to an unrealistic ideal, thus giving up me. (It's funny, Google thinks "shouldn't" is a wrong spelling!)
So what if I'm anal when it comes to personal space, possessions, cleanliness, my cats or language? It's not like I'm hurting anyone by being like that. And besides, some of you might be able to learn a thing or two from me. Yes, I may like things my way but when it all boils down - doesn't everybody?
And that's all I have to say about that! Pbbbttthhhhh!
p.s. Another funny quote from work:
Seth: So my microwave meal didn't tell me to poke a hole in the plastic cover.
Me: And that's bad how...?
Seth: What if it explodes?
Me: Why didn't you just poke a hole in it then?
Seth: Cuz it told me not to.
Me: Well, do you always do what the microwave dinner tells you too?
(Actually Google seems to think all contractions are wrong. Then it decides that they aren't wrong LOL).
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Ok, so - This morning, as I was leisurely getting ready for work, I noticed that my kitten was freaking out trying to get something underneath my vanity. Thinking it was a spider, I decided to help him out a little (my kitten, not the spider). I look under my vanity and there's this big black hairy thing as big as my fingernail.
That was when I freaked out.
I grabbed my kitten and tossed him out of my bedroom. Then I race to the kitchen to grab a glass and trap the horribly ugly spider. Now I don't know what to do with it so I am frantically looking for a jar to keep the spider in so that I can look at it up close. I am alternately fascinated and grossed out. I also have to contend with the kitten, who's only desire is to eat the little beast. Finally I find a jar and switch it for the cup. Then I try to flip the jar over using a piece of paper, so that I could screw the top on. Well, the spider escapes...and starts crawling up the jar.
Now this is where I really lost it. It's not that I'm afraid of spiders, but I don't like the skittering.... So I dropped the jar and take a huge step back, saying "Ohcrap ohcrap!" (Pull it together, seriously!!) Kitten jumps on spider, Lyndsie jumps on Kitten. Tosses kitten away and closes bedroom door. Luckily, this is not a fast spider. Gets the spider under control, under the jar. Finally manage to turn jar over with out spider escaping. Mission accomplished.
The spider - as big as my fingernail, black, hairy, little white dots on its abdomen, iridescent-looking mandible things and beady little spider eyes. Call me paranoid, but I don't want my kitten eating THAT!
Oh, and here's a funny random exchange between new coworker Seth and me:
Me: It's a lower case epsilon.
Seth: Epsilon is stupid
Me: Maybe epsilon thinks YOU'RE stupid!
Seth: Well epsilon can go suck it.
Saturday, May 10, 2008
“Do you really think your pathetic little life matters that much?” He asked me, sneering. “Do you really think that you’re succeeding at anything by working hard to make your store number one in the district? I mean, you’re just a sales associate, not even a manager!”
He did have point there. The majority of my working life, I’d spent as a sales associate. I hadn’t grown, hadn’t learned anything but how to take orders and clean hamster cages. I had spent my non-working life, drawing pictures of girls with unrealistically big breasts. Was that a success? What was I doing with my life? Sure, I worked hard and came home from work tired, and then I would draw:
Girls with their mouths hanging open seductively in too-tight lingerie, men with that same overdone macho air, scary monsters, blood – I did it all. What was I proving with this? Did this make me an adult? Just because I could draw a cat woman with a tail that looked like it was coming out of her backdoor? While some people spend their early adult years learning, studying and continuing to get jobs with higher wages, I just stayed contently in my little hole.
My universe revolved around my job and my computer. I had quite the gathering of online friends. But how much was an online friend worth? Only a tiny fragment of a person can exist in a computer, only the briefest glimpse of their being. This life was shallower than that of the most fashion-conscious cheerleader preppie. At least they got to see real people. All I got were pictures of these people – probably all photoshopped anyway.
And when I did see these people in person at a convention or something, they were nothing like their pictures. Their cool, calm beauty was replaced by nervous, giggling, pimply faces. They were ugly, horrifying even - totally unlike their online self. These were the people that commisioned pictures from me of them as dragons, vampires or werewolves. In reality however, if these people had been actual dragons, vampires or werewolves, they would have been destroyed for sure. It is said that the older a vampire is, the more dangerous it is because it has learned how to survive. But these people, they didn’t know how to survive. The real world was just as dangerous to them as if there really were dragons and werewolves to contend with.
Then it struck me – this ugly person standing before me was the real person – not the hot, put-together lingerie model from the internet. And I wondered, is this how I came off to other people? Is this how I came off to him? Did I really devalue myself so much that I had to hide in the fake skin of a slutty vampire mistress? Now I vowed to shed that skin, to live as a real person, in the real world and actually make something of my life. I wanted to be respected and I wanted to actually help people and help the world.
Monday, April 21, 2008
We sit on our little island – six feet by two – fearing to leave it. It is our haven, our sanctuary, our place of peace. Our island holds us, keeps us upright. If we leave it we may fall, anger or even die. We cannot leave our little island. The world is cold and hard around us, affording no peace, only noise and confusion. And pain. We dread the pain, more than we admit. But the island is not our world, and eventually we must go back – to our lives, anger and pain. But we must always remember our little island.
Thursday, April 17, 2008
To Whom It May Concern,
I am disappointed to hear of the charges being dropped for the deputies who shot, without reason, numerous pets in the aftermath of hurricane Katrina. Please reconsider the charges. There is enough eye-witness evidence (some even caught on tape) to prove that this was an atrocious act. If these deputies were just randomly shooting down people who were evacuating, they would probably already be in jail. What seems to not be understood is that a person's pets are loved just as much as the person's relatives. Animals have their own personalities and loyalties and don't deserve to be wantonly killed just as people do not deserve this. Thus it is a very cruel act to treat living things as if they were your car or your stereo. It is not easy to replace a pet, for it would be like replacing a friend. And nobody deserves to suffer from something like this, for it can be prevented by just a little compassion.
Website and story: http://www.pasadosafehaven.org/KATRINA/DOGSHOOTING/HISTORY.htm (be careful, this story WILL make you bawl! )
Sunday, April 13, 2008
You beat me when you’re excited,
Break me when you’re sad
Tax me when you’re exhausted
And drain me when you’re mad.
You build walls around me for protection,
Though they only keep me jailed.
You fill me up when you’re in love,
And curse me when you’ve failed.
I grow strong and powerful from your sucesses,
And shrivel in your doubt,
I pain you so gravely sometimes,
That you try to rip me out.
Sometimes you throw me off my rhythm
When you are scared or joyful.
You make me try to stabilize
When my weight’s too hard for you to pull.
But here I stay, close to you,
Even with all the torture you put me through,
I continue to give you life and breath,
And will only stop upon your death.