Oh, Holidays... You Sneaky Bastards.

It's that time of year again folks!

Yup, the Holidays.

Whether you celebrate Christmas, Hanukkah, Festivus, Yule, the Solstice, or any of the others, or a combination of a few, etc., etc., it is that time of year to party, buy gifts, eat like fat kids, and not have to go to work for a couple of days. Take a break, kick off your shoes, pour yourself a drink, and relax. That is, if you have time for that sort of thing. If you do, take hard advantage of it because not all of us do.

I myself was finally able to Xmassize my abode last week. I barely made it in time for Yule with the lights, mini tree (no time could be afforded for my usual giant one), bought and wrapped presents (which I finally finished today, Christmas Eve), and now am able to "relax," finally, with my bottle of wine and grilled cheese sammich.
Dinner of champions, I know. :)

Admidst all the hustle and bustle that comes with this time of year, it always comes into light when people "battle" for their own particular holiday, as if any of the others simply do not exist. It always breaks my heart to see such ignorance, and even more so since it comes up during a time of year that is supposed to be filled with joy, happiness, family, and understanding. There is absolutely no room, ideally, for such ignorance and stupidity to clog our intelligences, so why does it come up every year?

This year bugged me especially since Facebook has become so prominent, and along with it picture meme's to express our feelings or thoughts on a particular subject. One such meme I came across the other day encompassed a phrase basically entailing, "Hit 'Like' if you say 'Merry Christmas' instead of 'Happy Holidays!'"
I was nearly outraged...
Absolutely nothing against wishing someone a Merry Christmas, even though I am a Wiccan and celebrate the Solstice and Yule, but I would never EVER correct someone as to my personal beliefs. If you wish me a Merry Christmas, I will wish you the same. If you wish me Happy Holidays, I will wish you the same. If you wish me a Merry whateveryourpersonalbelievedandcelebratedholiday, I will wish you the same, with an open heart and a Big smile on my face.

It is not, and should never be, about what you particularly prefer as a holiday. I have always believed in the spirit of the holiday season, whatever that holiday might be. The fact that you took the time to wish me well in absolutely anything is worth mention, praise, a thank you, and a smile. I appreciate any well wish you are willing to toss my way, either in all sincerity or as a casual greeting/goodbye. I also do not believe that saying 'Happy Holidays' as opposed to say, 'Merry Christmas,' or anything else in particular, takes away from the spirit of the holidays. A well wish is a well wish,, and should be treated accordingly. Just because someone may not know your personal belief, and is being polite by being generic with their wishing you something in kindness, please, do not be offended. Consider the fact that that person may be being considerate, because you never know a person's contents by glancing at their cover. At the same time, if someone wishes you a Merry Christmas, and you do not celebrate it, there is absolutely nothing wrong with saying it back. They celebrate it, and even if you don't, there is no harm in wishing someone well on their particular holiday.

And, on the same note, a friend has told me that her job requires her to say 'Happy Holidays' instead of what she would prefer, 'Merry Christmas.' I understand that the job market would be a little different, and to save face in possibly offending someone, keeping things generic. While I do see the reason behind the logic, I do not completely agree with  her employer's standards. She should be able to say whatever she wishes, as it is her personal right to freedom of religion.
I only wish everyone were intelligent enough to not get in a huff about things...
People should feel comfortable to wish anyone whatever kindness during this time of year, and on the same front, ideally, the receiving end should be intelligent enough to receive a well wish of any kind, and respond to it with equal kindness.

I am not saying all this for people to get in a huff about things. I just think that the ignorance and unwillingness to accept someone for who they are and choose to be is ridiculous. We have evolved to such a state where it does not take a great deal of smarts to try to understand each other... I know we are a loooooong way from world peace, or any great feat of such nature, but come on guys, it's the Holidays.

So Merry/Happy Christmas, Hanukkah, Yule, Festivus, Quanza, or whichever Holiday you personally prefer. I mean absolutely no offense by any message within the content of this blog post.

Happy Holidays to all, and I sincerely wish you and yours the most merry and jolly of times.
Even if you don't celebrate anything, pour yourself a glass of wine, and enjoy a wonderful day. :)

Evolution

Do you remember when you were a kid and you did something insanely stupid, started crying and whining, and all your parents said to you was, "Suck it up. Act like a grownup!"? Yeah... Being a grownup isn't all it's cracked up to be.

Was does it mean to be a grownup anyhow? All I have seen so far as a gain from being one of these creatures of the "grownup" clan is that I get to eat Cheetos whenever I want... On the down side, if I eat too many Cheetos, I get stupid fat super quick because my metabolism is shot to shit because I am old. Mostly, being a grownup sucks balls compared to being a kid. Yeah, you have freedom, but it comes with heavy responsibility  And by heavy I mean metric tons heavy.

I am finding myself recently running into a stage where I have to act like a grownup yet again. I say "again" because being a grown person requires many, many, many stages and occurrences in which one must "act his age" and make responsible decisions. The most recent stage of my development has come into light with the fact that I have finally graduated from college. After the ever popular and appreciated "Congratulations" come my way, the statement is inevitably followed by, "What are you going to do now?"

Well, fuck me.

The truth is...
Fuck if I know!

There are so many plans and possibilities. I could teach (barf). I could get a "real job" (double barf).
I really want to finish my book that I have been working on for the past 2 years, and hopefully will be able to sell it, and get famous, and yeah, that would be omg so awesome. But, the realist in me is always searching for that backup plan. Sure, I would LOVE for my novel to be an overnight hit, then I'll never have to get a real job and can stay in the clouds forever! YUS! I like this idea!
But... Yeah. How likely is that to happen? Honestly? It is not that I doubt my skills as a writer and storyteller. I am pretty good, I think...

But still. What do I do while I'm waiting to get famous?

I have been a bartender for 11 years now. Yes, over a damn decade. And frankly, as much as I do enjoy my job, I cannot wait to put it behind me and permanently park my ass on the bar-stool on the other side. The fact of the matter is, that while I am only 28, I'm also almost 30. I have absolutely NO desire whatsoever to still be slinging drinks post 30. So, what do I do? Work on my almost nonesistentofviableworkplaceexperience resume? Yeah, I guess. Maybe I will get lucky... I am a Literature major after all, and I graduated Magna Cum Laude. Maybe the "man" will overlook the fact that I have almost no experience in an office type setting. Now the other major issue comes to light... Money. What do you pay an entry level college grad? Diddly squat is what. Why? Just because they can. So, no matter where I go or what job I land, I will more than likely be taking a pay cut. Frak.

But, the dilemma lies in this: Do I have it in me to stick it out in the bar another year? Or am I so far at the end of my rope that I will take the plunge into a lower paying job just so I can change the pace of my life?
Achievement Unlocked: Life Dilemma.

So, you see, being a grownup is not all it is cracked up to be as when you are looking at the possibility through the rose colored glasses of a desiring child.

Every person who ever told me to "Act my Age" or "Grow the Fuck Up," I kinda wanna punch you in the junk. Thanks for the false advertisement, Dickheads.

Trying to Find the In-Between

It has been one hell of a long week for so many of us. Death has the shuddering ability to suspend the world in motion, throwing us all off balance. Someone you expected to know your whole life, someone you have known since you were kids, suddenly and without warning yanked from the breath of this world.

There are no words which can describe that feeling of loss. For you, the still living, still breathing, the world stops. Reality comes crashing in. Hope dissipates before your very eyes. Unable to function or think in the simplest sense. This is the harsh reality of the effects of sudden death.

How do you deal with these things? Many people have varying ways in which they cope. I, myself, am a mechanical person. Set me at the simplest tasks and keep my brain focused on anything but what is emotionally going on around me. Must keep moving. The world has stopped, but I must keep moving or I will lose my mind...

The shitty part about all of this is that it never gets any easier. I have experienced so much death in my lifetime, but none of my former dealings with this matter ever prepare me for the next. I never become desensitized to the fact that someone, someone I know, have known for most of my life...
I cannot even finish the sentence.

With all of this, the experience, how does one get moving again? Life does go on, whether you want it to or not. How do you pick yourself up off the floor and get your ass in gear and take care of what needs to be done? In theory, the mechanics keep you going. Wake up, shower, eat, drive, school, work, eat, sleep. You would think all of this would keep you busy, and it does, but what about the time when you have nothing to do? Or when you see something on the road, or hear a song on the radio and cannot help but breaking down into tears? This is the hard part. You will always be reminded of the person you miss.

Comfort of family and friends helps a great deal. You can pick each other off the floor. Tell awesome funny stories and share your grief with one another. I always feel that I am the one working hard to make everyone smile, but what about the times when I break down? It's more than likely you will never see it, because what happens when the person you use as a rock crumbles before you? It is devastating.

So I keep on moving mechanically completing my chores of life. Going to school, doing homework. Trying to be the best person I can be because I know that is what the person would want for me, to Live.
To Love.
To Keep Breathing.
To Be Happy.
I must strive each and every day to pursue my dreams, never taking an opportunity for granted. I will get my ass kicked if I don't. My resolve is strong. It was strong before, but now it is impenetrable. I will fucking Live, truly Live.

It's so damned hard to deal with this shit, but I can promise that I will never give up. I keep reminding myself of the good times, the silly times, and I feel comforted and blessed to have known you. I will make more of an effort to tell the people I love that I appreciate them, and at the same time, never miss an opportunity for an adventure. I will be thankful for my life and stop and smell the roses. It's going to be hell of hard, it fucking sucks right now, but I will never stop living, until it is my destined time.

It is never, ever, easy to lose someone close to you. Never take for granted the people in your life. They help shape you. They are a part of who you are. Honor them by saying they are important to you and never miss a chance to go do something Awesome.

It is so cliche to say, but it is the damn truth: You never truly appreciate the last time you hang out with someone, until it is the last time. Make each "time" count. Really count. Only then will you have no regrets.

I will not wallow in sorrow, nor will I get so full of myself that I forget what is important.
I will constantly struggle to find the In-Between.

"Do not dwell in the past, do not dream of the future, concentrate the mind on the present moment."
~Buddha

Chronicles of No One: Part Three

Rasping. Wheezing. Ugly, horrid sounds escape my mouth as I exhale.

Another Lost Dream.

More blood. More violence. Shadows of monster-like figures play across my still dazed and sleep weary mind.

Clues. The images must be clues. They make dream drugs, but can they control your dreams? I am beginning to toy with such an idea. Sitting in a closed cell with no light or sense of time will do that to you.

Drive you crazy.

 At first, the Whites didn't seem to be interested in my dreams, or anything else besides keeping me lucid and plugged full of prescription cocktails. But, every time I wake, more nurses in white come running in to dope me at the first sign of my body stirring.

The drugs are both torture and a blessing. The more intense my physical reaction to my dreams, the more tranq must be in that needle. When I seem to find peace absent the dreams, the drugs they bring in daily act as an agent, sneaking into my mind and slowly bringing the demons that plague my subconscious to a rolling boil until I spill over the edge, my body writhing in pain.

It must be a system of control. Bring her to the breaking point… but don’t let her body fail. Give her enough rest to recover before starting the process all over again.

Fuck this hell.

(A voice whispers mockingly...)

Bitch. You get what you deserve. Fucking murderous cunt.

Oh yeah, did I mention I am also insane?? I hear voices when I am awake. They scare the shit out of me to be frankly honest. Calling me horrible names, speaking of unthinkable terrors. Picking at the borders of my sanity.

They talk directly to me. Taunting. Evil.

There must be a purpose to all of this.

I must get out of here. There has to be a way…

(No One begins to sob angrily. Clenching her fists into tight balls of fury she begins to scream against the walls of her confine.)

“FUCKTHISPLACEANDFUCKYOU!!!!! PIECE OF SHIT HELLHOLE WITH YOUR PIECE OF SHIT VOICES!!!!!
FUUUUUUUCKK!!!!”  

(Nurses rush in and manage to pin No One down and restrain her to the bed. A female nurse with Red hair peeking out from under her cap produces a needle from her pocket and brashly administers the drug to No One’s neck. The hysterics immediately lose sway as the drugs take effect.
Just as No One is about to drift off into unconsciousness, the unknown voice pipes in for a lullaby...)

More drugs for the crazy girl. Always more drugs.
Sleep tight, little bitch! I’ll be seeing you soon…

Inspiration

Don't you just love the long awaited epiphany feeling after weeks of mind blocks? I sure do! I am also pretty sure that most people do not suffer from this episode quite as much as I do, as most people are not trying to accomplish the next to impossible task of becoming a writer... a successful one of course.

Nonetheless, I have been working on a short story now for the past few months and have been having a hard time trying to figure out the ending direction. I always had a thought in mind, but how to execute it effectively has eluded me for some time now. Thanks to my dreams returning to their wonderfully inspirational and fantastical state, I now have the mechanics to finish it. YAY!

"Chronicles of No One" was a spur of the moment writing exercise that included simply me sitting down with a blank canvas and a keyboard - OKGO! The first excerpt turned out quite well, flowing along with ease. The second excerpt went pretty well also, but left more questions as to how I would end the durn thing... Hrrmmm.

Like most writers (I would assume, since I know so few) I have my stories constantly stewing in the back of my mind, ready to be brought up to the front lines at a moments notice. The main aspect being my novel that I have been working on for the past two years now (Alyce!) and this short story that began as a let's-play-around-with-writing-and-see-what-comes-out exercise. I have notes on both and add to them whenever I get any fleeting moment of inspiration. Such inspiration can come from literally anywhere: dreams, movies, TV shows, conversations, people watching, animals... The list is endless. Although, my favorite soup from which I pull ideas is from the ramblings of my subconscious.

Usually my dreams are an endless source of inspiration, full of fantasy and surreal events. Lately, I have to admit, this has not been the case, and it has left me utterly devastated. For almost 6 solid weeks, every night, my dreams have been polluted with horrible, utterly horrible Nightmares. Now, anyone who knows me on a personal level knows that I rarely ever have bad dreams. Rarely as in almost Never. But, something has been infiltrating and plaguing my mind to cause my dreams to take a turn for the worst, leaving my writing and my persona in a state of desolation.

Oddly enough, however, this paranoid state I have experienced very closely resembles the protagonist in "Chronicles" as No One constantly has nightmares, all consuming ones, that has resulted in her lost identity. Extremely weird parallel... {Found it!} I am sure the close correlation between myself and one of my protagonists was completely coincidental, but, I will take what I can get. As a result of my own personal plight, I now have a solid direction in which to take my story to conclusion. It is odd how the universe works, quite odd indeed. I am not saying in any way that this short story is a major work from the up and coming Lauren Fae, as it will probably remain an exercise, a test, in which I better myself as a writer. However, I am a firm believer in silver linings, no matter how small.

While the case of my personal nightmare advent is still open and under investigation, I am quite confident to say that "Chronicles" will be completed very soon and available for your reading pleasure. Stay tuned!

Save the Cheerleader, Save the World.

All hail the wonders of Geekdom!

Most of you should recognize the title as being from the late fantastic, yet utterly too short TV show, "Heroes." I have recently indulged myself on this show once again after stumbling upon it in the queue in Netflix whilst recovering from a smashing weekend camping on the beach. I thought to myself when I saw this new addition in my hungover state, "Yus! Something interesting to watch that I won't feel bad if I pass out because I have already seen the entire series!" What I did not expect was to attentively glue my eyes and my exhausted brain to the tele for 7 hours. What happened to my hangover nap??

What started off as me looking for something to watch and not really pay any attention to at all, turned into a week long obsession of re-watching this series, with fervor I might add. While most do agree that the latter half of the third season and pretty much the entirety of the fourth just plain sucked, the first two and a half seasons displayed genuine artistry in story-line and what it means to be a hero in today's world. Does one simply have to have "superpowers" to be a hero in a child's, or anyone's eyes? The show started off with quite an interesting concept: real people in the modern world displaying possibly the next generation of human evolution enabling them to have "abilities" beyond the normal realm. What the show accomplished, at least somewhat in my own mind, is a sense of what really makes a hero.

The characters in the show all have varying obstacles to overcome in their respective lives, but each is faced with a variation of the same problem: What makes a hero? Peter Patrelli, the all good, self-sacrificing savior type struggles with family ties and corruption within the walls of his own house. Claire Bennett, the actual healer in the show, deals with similar problems as Peter with her dangerous Daddy, but also faces the issue of constantly being the damsel in distress, needing a hero to save her... (Save the Cheerleader.) And by far my favorite character, Hiro Nakamura, raises the question outright of what makes a hero and what he would do to save the world as he constantly battles with time and space, a very dangerous power in evil hands.

Hiro's case is very interesting as he is the official "nerd" in the show, constantly referring to superheroes in comics and sci-fi characters such as Spock. It is interesting to me as I believe any geek who actually stumbled upon an ability would react the same way, doing whatever was necessary to live up to the responsibility laid before him in acquiring such power, and having quite a bit of fun at the same time. Hiro's case is quite compelling as most anyone graced with the ability to bend time and space would seek to further their own personal needs in life. Hiro thinks beyond this and immediately takes on the task of saving the world. Why? Because he feels it is his duty. Unselfish, kind-hearted, and just the right amount of innocent equals the optimum hero in today's age. Hiro acquired enough experience in his journeys to make the right choices and put the task of preventing disaster before the needs of anything else. Although, he does struggle a bit when he falls in love and his choices are compromised somewhat, he learns from his mistakes and constantly strives to better himself and become a better Hero. All this drive in his character is based upon what stories he read and adored as a child. My question is this... Do the stories we read and absorb as children really help us in shaping our future personalities and communal drive to better our society?
My answer: Definitely.

We read about heroes saving the princess as children, and watch cartoons about kids saving the world and we dream about being like them: strong, quirky, good. What, then, goes wrong with the kids who grow up to be murderers, rapists, and criminals? Were their dreams crushed as a child? Did they even have a childhood? Most people would psychoanalyze the source of the problem to childhood issues, and I feel that they would be correct. Teaching a child the rights and wrongs of the world is no easy or simple task... But a necessary one to preserve our future as an intelligent and progressive race. It breaks my heart to know that there are children out there without a hero to look up to. Everyone, even adults, need a role model. We socialize to identify ourselves. We adapt and change to become more pleasing, more desirable, to our fellow Homo sapiens. Everyone needs a hero to look up to and strive to be more like. Whether fictional with telepathic abilities, the ability to fly, or even your normal, non-mutated Mom or Dad, everyone needs some sort of Hero, someone to light the way and give us hope.

Find your Hero. Do not be ashamed to show you have one.
Mine is Hiro Nakamura... "Yatta!"

Too Many Syllables

Those that know me on a personal basis are aware of the fact that...

I JUST GOT MARRIED!!! YAY ME!! *He's mine now evil laugh*

It should be noted that my delectable husband and I were engaged for quite a lengthy period of time before saying the vows; about a year and a half. During this time, while I was ECSTATIC to finally be on the happy road to matrimony, I absolutely had the most problem addressing my betrothed as my 'fiance.' Why you ask? Because the word has too many syllables, dammit!

It should also be taken under consideration that my now husband and I courted for a period of just over ten years before finally tying the knot. Yes, we dated for over a damn decade. That's 10 years, or roughly, 120 months, 520 weeks, 3650 days, 87600 hours, 5256000 minutes, and 315360000 seconds of calling him my 'boyfriend.' See? Two syllables. Boy Friend. Easy Peasy!!
That is, until we got engaged, and everyone kept correcting me that he was no longer my easy and comfortable, two syllable, 'boyfriend' any longer, but some frenchy, uptight sounding, way too snazzy for my tastes, three syllable 'fiance.'

W.T.F.

How does one go from being the easy to say and not hoity-toity "Oh, he's my boyfriend, like, you know?" to the utterly stuck up and painful to say, "Daaahling, he's my Fianceeee..." I mean, there's even supposed to be a damn accent on the word! (Thank you, Blogger, for not picking that up!)

My frustration knew no bounds for pretty much our entire engagement as I struggled to conform to societal norms and remember to say this confounded word. At first, it was pure dumb luck that I forgot to say it. It was easy to get away with the 'boyfriend' slip in the beginning months because we had just got engaged, and old habits die hard, ya know? However, as the months passed, I found it harder and harder to use that excuse as people expected me to be familiar and comfortable with my new arrangement, at least enough to change his status while talking about him. Jeez people! It's a long and annoying word! ...So, I tried it a few times, and even pretended to swoon to convince people that I was excited about the dribble language coming out of my mouth. (Mind you, I was indeed SO FUCKING EXCITED TO FINALLY BE GETTING MARRIED!!! Make no mistake about that! It's just the wording that got in the way...)

I find myself thinking of that riveting season-ending episode of "Supernatural" when Castiele is about to smite Michael before the apocalypse takes over the world, and what phrase does he use to get the Archangel's attention??  "Hey! Ass-Butt!"

Yeah, that's about how I felt every time I tried to warm up to the word 'fiance...'
Ass-Butt.

Here's a little etymology information on my most loathed word, as I am frustrated with it so, I must know where the confounded thing comes from...
Basically, 'fiance' is a French word for 'betrothed.' 'Fiance' being the male equivalent and 'fiancee' being the female. You can even doll it up and put an accent on the 'e' to make it look purty.
'Betrothed.'
I would have MUCH rather have said that word. At least it doesn't sound like you slapped someone while they were saying something: "Fians.. *slap* HEY!"

By and by, I finally gave up on trying to conform to society's norms and kept referring to the man as my boyfriend, and when people got in a huff about it, I simply said, "It's too many dang syllables."
It's odd how quick that shut most people up.
Smile and nod.

Now I am sitting extremely smug in content land as I no longer have to banter with horrible words to refer to my HUSBAND. God, I love that word. Simple, direct, to the point. Husband. So much love in that one word.
Say it with me, 'Husband.' ...Doesn't that just make you smile?
See? Easy Peasy.
It's all in the syllables.

The Squirrely Day that Only Comes Around Every 4 Years!

Yup, you guessed it! Today is February 29th! Happy Leap Year Day!!!

As some of you may already know, I have a minor obsession with holidays, weird holidays, and general histories and fun fact about abnormal days that occur in our human existence. I never got these stories growing up, but now thanks to the wonderful powers of the almighty interwebs, HUZZAH! Information widely, and worldly available!

Most everyone does know the reason behind leap year. But, jut in case you live under a rock, but happen to have internet access and are reading my blog, According to my trusty wiki:

"In the Gregorian calendar, the current standard calendar in most of the world, most years that are evenly divisible by 4 are leap years. In each leap year, the month of February has 29 days instead of 28. Adding an extra day to the calendar every four years compensates for the fact that a period of 365 days is shorter than a solar year by almost 6 hours."

Yes, indeed, most everyone in the US of A knows this little bit of info as to the why of the extra day in the month of Feb. But, has anyone ever wondered if there were some crazy traditions that surround this day? Why, yes, I sure do!!! Here's some interesting tidbits to amuse you for the day. You can only do this once every four years, ladies!

"In Britain and Ireland, it is a tradition that women may propose marriage only on leap years. While it has been claimed that the tradition was initiated by Saint Patrick or Brigid of Kildare in 5th century Ireland, this is dubious, as the tradition has not been attested before the 19th century. Supposedly, a 1288 law by Queen Margaret of Scotland (then age five and living in Norway), required that fines be levied if a marriage proposal was refused by the man; compensation ranged from a kiss to £1 to a silk gown, in order to soften the blow. In some places the tradition was tightened to restricting female proposals to the modern leap year day, February 29, or to the medieval (bissextile) leap year day, February 24.

According to Felten: "A play from the turn of the 17th century, 'The Maydes Metamorphosis,' has it that 'this is leape year/women wear breeches.' A few hundred years later, breeches wouldn't do at all: Women looking to take advantage of their opportunity to pitch woo were expected to wear a scarlet petticoat—fair warning, if you will."

In Denmark, the tradition is that women may propose on the bissextile leap year day, February 29, and that refusal must be compensated with 12 pairs of gloves.

In Finland, the tradition is that if a man refuses a woman's proposal on leap year day, he should buy her the fabrics for a skirt.

In Greece, marriage in a leap year is considered unlucky. One in five engaged couples in Greece will plan to avoid getting married in a leap year."


Also some info about people with birthdays on Feb. 29th:



"A person born on February 29 may be called a "leapling" or a "leaper". In common years they usually celebrate their birthdays on February 28 or March 1. In some situations, March 1 is used as the birthday in a non-leap year since it is the day following February 28.

Technically, a leapling will have fewer birthday anniversaries than their age in years. This phenomenon is exploited when a person claims to be only a quarter of their actual age, by counting their leap-year birthday anniversaries only. In Gilbert and Sullivan's 1879 comic opera The Pirates of Penzance, Frederic the pirate apprentice discovers that he is bound to serve the pirates until his 21st birthday rather than until his 21st year."


So, if you have been waiting on that oh, so special guy to pop the big question and are getting restless, today is your day to give it a shot! Hey, the worst that can happen is you'll either end up with a kiss, some money, or spanky new threads if he refuses you. Not too shabby!!

And, if you happen to be a Leapling, HAPPY BIRTHDAY!! Be glad you aren't a Pirate sworn to servitude, especially on my ship...  

~Capt.
m>^.^<m

Fun Fact Info taken from wikipedia: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Leap_year#Folk_traditions

Change

Yes, change. Everything changes in life: clothes, hair, weight, cars, kids, the planet. But, the change we most seem to recognize is change in other people; mostly the people in our lives that surround us from the day to day. There may be that  acquaintance at work that you never really got to know that got another job and moved on. Your brother got married and moved away so you see very little of him. Friends from high school that were the absolute best of your friends at the time that you can't remember the last time you spoke to ten years later. People are constantly coming in and out of our lives. Why is this?

The answer may be as simple as we are ever changing creatures ourselves. We may not notice it as much because, you know, well, we are looking at ourselves and tend not to notice the little changes that creep in. Your mood may have changed or you adopted a new life attitude and didn't realize it. You started hanging out at a different bar than the regular spot for some fresh feel. You may have picked up a new hobby. Or, even the more subtle, you didn't really change at all except for a tiny fraction of yourself and someone just fazed themselves out of your life. Things don't always happen intentionally, but we do grow apart and evolve. We are the pinnacle of evolution on our planet, so is it really so surprising that the best friend or sister you had last year is suddenly seeming to be on a different play field? Maybe they have something going on in their own lives that is changing them and they must alter their perspective in order to cope. Also, there is the case of the person you were such good friends with ten years ago, lost contact with for the most part for whatever reason, and suddenly because of a nasty divorce, they are your best hang out buddy again. People seem to move in an out of our field of vision, but they are never really gone. It's just the path that everyone must walk often times takes us in different and unexpected places.

It is hard to see the reason behind such changes in our lives, especially the bad changes. Someone may have broken your heart and your trust. It is hard to let them back inside the castle. Hell, maybe you don't even want to, ever, because the hurt was so bad. That is okay too. I like to think so anyway. Not everyone on the planet is good for your karma. People can be deceptive and have intentions that you cannot even dream of because they are so close to you. It is hard to see the bad in such a seemingly good person. People also transition from awesome to dangerous during the course of a relationship. The best friend or soul mate you once knew and fell in love with may not be that same person today. What do you do? The answer is difficult and never the same since we are all different and so diverse in our personal mentalities. The struggle may be hard, but the end result may be that the obstacle was necessary to elevate you both at the same time to a higher state of trust. Other times, you just may have to let go...

Why am I saying all of this? It is because I am starting to sense a trend in my own personal relationships with the various people close to me in my own life. I have lost friends and gained new ones almost at the same time. Friends that I never thought would betray me or hurt me have caused the most pain I have ever felt on an emotional level. Other people have come into my life and have been that much needed ray of sunshine and given me so much perspective and they didn't even realize it. You have to pay attention to the people around you. They can help you understand yourself if you are ever feeling lost. That person you met yesterday or the co-worker you have known for a year may seemingly to all of a sudden become your new best friend. It's funny how things happen. It's called life, and it is so extremely difficult to see the path or higher purpose. We tend to be linear beings by nature, only seeing what is in front of us. We must learn to look all around us, up in the sky, down at the ground, behind us, as well as forward, for the answers do indeed dance all around us in various forms.

This month has been very important to me, not only on a personal level, but on a spiritual level as this month marks the Sabbat of Imbolc, or basically, Rebirth. The sun is rising and blanketing the earth more and more everyday clearing away the winter snow to show the new growth in the land and the coming of Spring. This is very much a metaphor for life during this time when I am seeing so much change all around me. Sometimes you just have to let go of some people in order to make room for the philosophies of others. It is not a bad thing, but a natural progression, one that we all must take part in if we are to grow as individuals.

So, when that best friend or sister lets you down, the brother moves away, the new guy at work starts paying attention to you, or the shy girl suddenly warms up to your glow, remember that the universe has a purpose. Pay attention to it, even if you may not understand it. You will be amazed at what you may discover just by listening.

HAY YOU!

So... It's been awhile, huh?

Yeah, the Capt. has been pretty busy with school and things (schoolschoolschool) so I have been neglecting you readers, and for that I am dearly sorry. But, alas, I am sure you understand, as everyone has been in school at one point in their lives, be it graduate or grade.

BUT I HAVE A TREAT!

More of my (attemptive) creative yammerings are to follow this little bit of nonsense intro as most of you may know that I am indeed a REAL CAPTAIN! Yes, I have my own crew of Pillagey Pirates and we love to have fun and things (involving rum). So, I have come up with a creation story of my Bewb Crew as  a favor to the Boson of my mate and fellow Capt., Jack Hammer (Joshua Parmer a.k.a. "Cheese"). She cornered me a couple days ago and told me of her most romantic and quite adorably cute V-Day plans for her man and asked for my help. She wished for me to compose a story of how we created our most illustrious Bewb Crew, and I most humbly obliged. Following is that story, as it actually happened. I swear it on my oath as  Pirate...

The Bewb Crew

(A Creation Story)

Once Upon a Time in the distant and fantastical world of TRF, there lived two scurvy mates who wandered the high seas looking for adventure. Each mate held his own contingency plundering and pillaging to his heart’s desire, drinking rum and enjoying the fruits of the most pleasurable company until one day, these two mates both happened upon the same island.

Twas a tall island, full of trees bearing strange fruit, Rum Fruit!! “Huzzah!” said each mate as they sailed their sloops up onto shore, one upon the North shore, and the other ran aground upon the South. The mates, respectively, ran into the fruitful trees and began to shimmy up the trunks in pursuit of the Rum Fruit, casting many a fruit upon the ground for each mate held a healthy appetite for the Rum! They ate and ate until their woes of the world disappeared and their heads began to swim of everything most fine and Piratey. Well on into the night, each mate had the most enjoyable of solo parties, each on their respective sides of the island. When night had completely consumed the day, the mate on the North shore began to make a fire, the most amazing fire you have ever seen! ‘Twould warm many a partier, tis for sure! She had plenty of driftwood and tossed some Rum Fruit upon the flame to enhance the size and aw of the bonfire, and make no mistake on its size, for it got the attention of the South mate as he saw the tip of the flame from amongst the top of the trees. “Oh no!! Not the Rum Fruit!” said he, for he believed his precious Rum Trees to be on fire. Running frantically through the forest grabbing as many fruits as he could (waste not, want not, ye know) he happened upon the strangest of scenes when he broke through the tree line on the other side. Dancing wildly around the most monstrous of fires and singly as loudly as she could, “It’s a Pirate’s Life for MEEEEE!” was this strange little pirate, drunk off her arse, having the best of pirate times all by her lonesome. The other mate was so astonished, and hammered, that he decided to join in the fun and began dancing and singing around the fire as well. For hours and hours, until the break of the dawn, did these two fools drink and sing and stumble in the sand having the most wonderful time, until finally they could dance no more and passed out on the sand with Rum Fruit spewed all around them.

When they awoke the following dusk, a most peculiar converastion ensued…
“Ahoy there!” said South. “Ye sure know how to have a right Piratey time, mate!”

“Yer not so bad yerself there, bub! We sure did have us a blast! I LOVE RUM!!” replied North.

“INDEED!! The name is Hammer.” said South, “Jack Hammer.”

“Pop.” replied North, “Pop of the Lollies of Lob. Pleasure meetin’ ya!”

“HAY!” said Hammer, “ye know what is just as good as rum?? BEWBS! HAHAHA!”

“Ye know,” Pop grinned, “ye be damn RIGHT! BEWBS ARRR AWESOME!!”

            They both laughed their most heartiest of laughs and became immediate friends.

“Ye know what?” said Hammer, “we should make our OWN Pirate Crew! We can sail the seas and party like Pirates all the year round if we had ourselves a proper crew!”

“Ye be durn right!” replied Pop. “We shall makes us a Crew so AWESOME the land has never seen it’s equal! And we shall be the BEWBIE PIRATES! Cuz we loves us some boobs!” she shouted as she jiggled hers for enjoyment and enthusiasm.

“HOORAY FOR BEWBIES!!!” They both exclaimed and began drinking more of the Rum Fruit and toasting each other for thinking of such an Awesome idea.

            After another night of drinking and celebrating, the two mates began to make their preparations for departing their island and set out to find mates for the Bewb Crew, when upon reaching their respective sloops, found that the little ships had floated away in the nights and days out into the open sea. “Oh No!” the both exclaimed. “What are we gonna do?” For as happy the two mates would have been partying on the island for the rest of their days, they wanted to adventure upon the seas and find Bewbs who likes Boobs as much as they did and drink and enjoy rum together. Almost at the same time, the mates noticed a pair giant of sea turtles swimming lazily in the island’s bay. “Light bulb!” said the two mates as they eyed the unsuspecting turtles and came up with a plan of epic proportions. Hammer prepared a whip-rope from the vines of the Rum Trees and proceeded to jump one of the turtles from behind and lasso it into submission. After many minutes of thrashing about in the shallow bay, Hammer won his victory and the turtle submitted. “HA! Yer mine now turtle! Now float me outta here so’s I can go get me crew started!” The turtle nodded and Hammer became his master. “That be a lot of unnecessary thrashing,” said Pop who sat comfortably upon the other turtles back and scratched her head as she floated easily through the bay water. “How’d you do that? Catch yours so easily? Mine was right dreadful and hard to tame! No fair!” exclaimed Hammer in frustration. Pop shrugged, “Twas easy, she likes Bewbs too! I flashed her mine and she offered me a ride! I win!” Both laughing hysterically at the feat began to sail upon the backs of their turtles together and having the most merry a time finally back upon the sea. “Hay!” said Hammer, “What’s yer turtle’s name?” “Nipply!” replied Pop, “Since she favors them so! What’s yers?” “Vengence!” said Hammer with fervor, “Since he is a nasty brute who will stare down any who comes in his way! I like it!” And they sailed off into the sun laughing heartily, drinking rum, searching for Bewbs and adventure…

            Thus is the tale of how Cap’n Jack Hammer and Cap’n Lollie Pop created the Bewb Crew and sail upon the seas of Awesome on the Nipply Vengence! YARHAR YE BEWBS!

SURRENDER YE BEWBIES!

(or give us Rum)

Rain, Rain, Write Away!

Don't you just love rainy days? With nothing better to do than sit on the couch, peruse the internet, watch Netflix and order take out (make sure to tip the guy extra for driving in the rain.) No, work, no school, homework is done for the day... Now what?

Well, fellow fantasy fans, you are in for a treat since I have nothing really better to write about than more tidbits of my short story. I have been thinking over the last week or so as to what direction I could take this blog story in and have come up with a few neat ideas. Hope you enjoy!

(For previous part of the story, you will just have to look back through the index. Mwaha! You have to read more of my stammerings if you want more story!)

Chronicles of No One


The days and nights continue to bleed into one another and I am losing all sense of time itself. I have no sunlight in which to differentiate between morn and night. The meds come twice daily, but I have lost track of which is the day dose and which belongs to night. Both enhance my dreariness... And cause the wicked dreams.


I had another one the last time I slept. More blood. Everywhere. It covered my hands, clothes, face, the floor walls and ceiling too. I looked in horror about myself and began to shriek. As the scream crecsendoed and I began to shake, I awoke to find my entire body spasming. The nurses ran in to hold me down, then came a sharp pain in my neck which must have been a needle with some sort of tranquilizer as I slipped into unconsciousness, this time dreamless. 


If only they could put me out of my misery. 
Or at least keep me under with that miracle dreamless sleep drug.
I know not why I am here.


Empty walls. Empty floors. Empty ceiling. Everything empty.
Even the nurses have their faces completely covered so I can witness nothing but white clothed figures with masks and bonnets, all looking the same. 
Empty.


My soul is empty as well. If even I have one left. 
If only I could remember who I was. Something. Anything. Any clue to who I am or what I did to end up here...


Fool.
Pitiful Fool.

I think I am hearing voices now. Maybe it is the nurses mocking me behind my cell door. However, they have never spoken before...


Fool.
You did this.
You did this to me...
YOU DID THIS TO ME!!!

"What? Who's there?"

Oh God! I'm scared. What is this?


YOU DID THIS!!
IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT!
PITIFUL HUMAN FOOL!
(evil laughter follows the voice)


No One screams...

Pitiful Hooman. Yu belong to Me!

I would like to dedicate this Saturday to my most ferocious and feisty female of the feline fruition, Eiko!

Many of you know my wonderful cat and how awesome she indeed is. Yeah, she pretty much pwns as far as pets are concerned. She is loving, docile, inquisitive, insightful, playful, and loves to sleep. Rarely comes the time when she meets the air of discipline, as most of what she may do that is a 'no no' is so damn funny and cute that I could not imagine being mad at her.

Take today for example. She loves to drink water, especially when it is any other container other than her own water dish. Glasses left half full on the coffee table, the toilet if the seat is left up (in which I usually find her completely immersed since she fell in) and her personal favorite, the bath tub. She quite often spots the glass of water on the table, however, and immediately commences the consummation of the refreshing and nourishing liquid at her disposal as if to say, "Target acquired! Mine!" This is all well and fine in our household, since she is indeed Queen and Regent, but the predicament arises when the water level is not high enough for her to reach with her head and she proceeds to use her paw to tip the glass ever so slightly imagining that her efforts will allow her to access to the refreshment. Of course, being human that we are and most of us understanding some measure of the laws of physics and gravity, understand that once a glass is tipped does one of two things: tipped slightly and released the glass will fall back into it's normal resting position upon the surface it was previously rendered, or, tipped more than slightly and the glass will slow-mo topple onto it's side spilling in a glorious onrush the liquid it previously contained onto any and every surface in the immediate area including the table, carpet, book, and possible cell phone in the direct path of unfortunate destruction.

Eiko being Eiko, of course, thinks that the world responds to her rules and that tipping the glass with her foot will cause it to stay tilted so that she can drink the contents. As many times as she has done this and the rules in her mind have proven to be false, she never fails to continue to test the laws of the world in which she lives almost as if commanding said glass full of delicious water, "You will stay put..." like a Jedi. Alas, the Force is not as strong with her as she believes, hence the glass continues to fall over.

All the while, I sit idly by on the couch reading St. Augustine's Confessions (for homework, not interest I assure you) and am enthralled by her act, as let's face it, it is a hell of a lot more interesting and entertaining than anything I was doing for the previous hour.

Long story short, she can't reach the water in my cup, proceeds to stick her foot in it, knocks it over, and I laugh uncontrollably. *squeeegiggle*

Yeah, my cat is adoringly awesome. It's almost as if she perceives my plight on some type of cat/human boredom wavelength and attempts to make a funny to cheer me up by being mischievous. To prove my hypothesis, it can be stated that as I am now writing this blog post and quite immensely enjoying myself, she is sleeping soundly on the other end of the couch with a smug satisfactory thought of, "My work here is done. You are no longer bored. You're welcome hooman of mine."

I've said it before and shall say it again, it's the little things. :)

New Title!

As some of you (all of you rather) may have noticed that I have changed the title and URL of my blog. The more I get into blogging, the more things will change and improve. I felt that the original title of "365 Days..." would get too monotonous after a while since the main focus of the title was to record something different I do everyday in my life. While my life is diverse and interestingly awesome, I have come to realize that such is not so much the case when I start school again. It becomes much of the same routine: Wake-up, Yoga, eat, nap, school (or work), eat again, homework, sleep. Trying to find 366 different things concerning my daily actions would have become quite boring I find. So!! Instead of driving away readers with the same old same old, I will spice things up with a twisted tale of fantasy in addition to awesome daily activities and findings that I come across. I am after all, striving to be a creative writer, so I will give you some insights as to how my brain works. Hence, the Lilliputians.

Many of you may be familiar with Jonathan Swift's epic tale Gulliver's Travels in which a man gets shipwrecked several times and goes on all kinds of crazy adventures with the most astounding people. Gulliver's first journey involves my favorite little people, the Lilliputians!

You ever hear of the people who are not so mentally sound that they hear "voices" in their heads? Well, I like to refer to mine as Lilliputians. That is not to say that I am not mentally sound myself, I just like to be a little fantastical with my everyday as otherwise it would seem quite boring and dull. We all need a little fantasy in our lives, otherwise the world would just plain suck. Everyone hears voices, whether or not we admit to it is a different story. At least mine are awesome, is all I can say. In an effort to commemorate these tiny voices that are responsible for my wild tales that are the inspiration for my work, this blog shall now be dedicated to them!

Here is an excerpt from a short story I am working on starting... Now!

 I think I am going out of my mind. I can't seem to focus on anything but the sharp pains that flog my temples and cause me to writhe on the floor uncontrollably. I have no idea how or when this started. All I know is the pain. 
I get flashes of memories from when I was a child, but no more. I cannot even remember my own name. It is as if the pain has taken bits and pieces of my life away from me, and there is nothing I can do to stop it. 
The meds help. Help me sleep rather. Otherwise I would surely die of exhaustion as the pain leads into insomnia. The sleep is not dreamless, however. Oh, if only it was. I get flashes of the most horrible things. Blood. 
Everywhere.
It is all I see and all I can touch and smell when I am in my comatose dreams. I do not know if being awake is any better because then comes the pain. I try to write to calm my mind, but I find it difficult to write about anything other than my misfortune. 
Help me.
Someone.
Anyone...
I fear the pain will consume what is left of me and I have no idea how I even ended up like this. Did something happen to me? Did I hurt someone to deserve this? Do I deserve this? I must since no one comes to visit me in this place. I have no friends or family that I can remember. My childhood flashes are more like glimpses of the world and what it must look like outside of this place. Rocks, trees, grass. I have no such luxuries any longer. I am caged, both inside and out. If only I could see the sun... maybe it would give me comfort to know that I am still alive and can be saved, for I fear that I am in hell and am suffering for something I did in my life, something horrible.
Pain.
Blood.
No memory.

School Days (and some weekend catch-up)

Ok, this post will serve as a catch-up for the last couple days in which I was unable to immerse myself into the computer world for time enough to keep you all up to date on my world. Don't worry, the Lilliputians are all fine and dandy. Here's what they have been up to...

Sunday: Extreme hangover from extensive pillaging at the local bar with my personal Pirate Crew of Bewbs. We had a fantabulous time, I assure you! (Some of us even got lucky!) The first offical invasion of Molly's Pub was a great success ending with the Capt. apparently so intoxicated she could neither stand in her 4.5 in heels any longer or remember if she paid her tab (which she asked the lovely Kristen 6 times if she did and even text her the next morning.) She claimed I was "The cutest hot mess drunk she has ever seen!" I like to call that a win my friends!!
The remainder of the day was spent lounging on the couch with my own personal cabin servant, Roger, watching our favorite show, Supernatural, and mayhaps a little rumaging around in the proverbial "sack" to make sure we get our daily exercise in. *teehee* The day, all in all, was very much appreciated for its laziness.

Monday: Not much to say about this day except other than my normal routine of sleeping and eating and enjoying the little things in life, I also worked my first Monday night shift of the semester and it did prove to be quite profitable! I really do have the best job in the world right now. Much love to the Molly's crew!
Also, this was the birthday of one of the greatest men in history, Martin Luther King Jr. While I did not do anything special to commemorate this wonderful man, I did take some time to reflect on all he has done to make an influence on how our world works today. Some things he would be proud of, others, not so much. There is still a long road ahead down the path of ridding ignorance and hate from our minds. Of getting rid of the notion that "different" means "wrong." Every generation, every action, every thought, brings us either closer or farther away from the truth and how things should really be.
Here are a couple blog posts from some friends of mine regarding this holiday. Something to think about:

http://writerzblockblog.wordpress.com/2012/01/16/i-really-need-better-approval-over-these-things-pt-1/

http://writerzblockblog.wordpress.com/2012/01/17/i-really-need-better-approval-over-these-things-pt-2/

Thanks Bre and Brownlee!


Now, on to today, Tuesday: Today marked the first day of a brand new semester. Do you smell it? Smells like learning!! I love that smell! But then again, I am one of the biggest dorks I know, so of course I like school! However, as much as I enjoy it, I am ready to be done for a while. This semester marks the last year of my undergraduate career. Yes, in December of this year, I will have a Bachelors Degree in Arts specializing in Literature. Aren't I just made of win? What am I going to do with this degree? Teach? BAH! Kids get on my everlasting nerves, little snarky shits. No, I am hoping to write, and I guess it wouldn't hurt to actually be successful at it, yeah? Do I need a degree to walk down this path? No, not necessarily. I want it for my own benefit and personal accomplishment. So I can look at that pretty piece of paper on that wall and think to myself, "Yeah, I totally pwned that." Thinking in uber gamer terms, INT +500. Yeah, that awesome, I know.

In addition to my schooling, I am also working on my first novel. Unfortunately, major focus will not be given to it until I graduate because, well yeah, time and all. Have you ever tried to write a book? It's friggin hard and stuff. But, I anxiously welcome the challenge! Several notes, chapters, and character descriptions are already down on paper in several notebooks, in the Notes app on my phone, in my sketchbook, and of course, stored in my ever-working and imaginative brain. The next big step will be tying it all together. I figure locking myself in a hotel room for a couple months should do the trick. Achievement awaiting to be unlocked! Also, one of my writing exercises is writing, more often, everyday. Hence, the main purpose of this blog, to get me back in the habit of writing in my own writing style. Yes, I do write a LOT for school, but much of it is what the professor is looking for, i.e. Analytic Writing, which can get quite monotonous and boring after, say, three years of college. Ugh. So, I am trying to exercise my skills in my own voice; see how far I can take myself. How awesome can I make myself sound? How many different voices can I portray?Writing is much like any other skill. To reach perfection it must be worked and honed. Going for too long without doing it and my words will get fat and lazy. We can't have that now can we? No fluffy writing, kthxbai.

So, there is a nice little summary of the last couple days as well as some insight to my long term goals. What do you plan on doing for the rest of your life? If you haven't figured it out yet, no worries! It took me years and several major flip-flops to finally decide on my personal path. Get out there, experience things. If you have decided on your life path and in fact are living it, good for you, mate! But, don't forget stop and smell the roses. Life is full of, well, Life.
The answer to your own destiny may surprise you.

Wtf Allergies??

"Today I don't feel like doing anything..."

Yeah, that just about sums up my Saturday. The last Saturday I have off before school starts back up again on Tuesday, and what do I do all day? Sleep. Yup, slept all damn day on the couch. So productive, right?

I assure that as lazy as we all know I am, it was not completely my fault that I didn't in fact "Get out of Bed." One word: Allergies.

Yes, the ever present and extensively annoying allergy attack. Where do they come from?  This is such b.s. that I have allergies now at 27 when I never had them growing up. They studiously came upon me several years ago and because I was unfamiliar with the symptoms, I of course felt like I was dying. My head very well had an ogre beating my brains out with a war-axe and tiny goblin minions were mining mucus like hunger driven work horses. I promise! I'm not lying!~ But, upon conversing with my fiance, he toppled me off my soap box and told me I was simply suffering from allergies and to take some meds. Allergies?? What? I have never had them in my life!! No way! "Yes, honey, people can develop them later in life. Welcome to my world."
Well, ain't that just peachy...

So, here I am, five years later and sitting indoors on a B.E.A.utiful Saturday sleeping it all away because the ogre came back with a viscous vengeance. I thought I was doing well too since I woke up at 9:30am which is waaaaay early for me since I have been on break from school. I thought to myself upon rising, "Hell yes! I'm going to get shit DONE today!" Then I sat up... and was attacked by evil minions from the dark side of the Force. Frak.

Thankfully, however, due to my sleeping much of the day, I do feel much better now and was able to rope in and harness the ogre and goblins for long enough to get my cardio in. Hey, I am getting married in two months, in Vegas, so I need to look damn good. And no matter how stubborn or adamant those damn  determined beasties can be, they will NOT get this lady down! Go Ninja Go!

Oh, did I mention I am also developing an increased allergy to the sun? But, more on Vampirism and it's effects on me later when it's gets closer to summer. I have proof, dammit.
Ugh.

The Ever Elusive Friday the 13th

"The fear of Friday the 13th is called friggatriskaidekaphobia (Frigga being the name of the Norse goddess for whom "Friday" is named and triskaidekaphobia meaning fear of the number thirteen)." [taken directly from Wikipedia].


That is the first thing that pops up when Googling this mischievous day. Why are we so scared of this Friday? In theory, it isn't a Holiday, nor does it have any conclusive value to our evolution or everyday lives. Yet, this day is shrouded in mystery. We are all on the brink; sitting on the edges of our chairs, biting our nails, looking out the window or around the corner every fifteen seconds or so in paranoia... waiting for the ball to drop. Two words: Bad. Luck.

I remember even as a child hearing my parents laughing talking of this "holiday" and expecting "something bad to happen." It could be anything in anticipation. The car won't start in the morning making one very late for work. Spilt coffee on a brand new pair of slacks. Running into the coffee table and breaking one's toe. All of these are happen stances balmed on this poor little innocent day. My big question is Why?

What makes Friday the 13th so scary? Any of the above mentioned could happen on any random day of the week, but if an unpleasant situation befalls this one day, it is no doubt entirely the fault of the day. No other reason could possibly explain the horrible happenstance and the freak occurance. Hmmm...

To try to solve this riddle, I once again call upon the powers of the Great Google to teach me a little history lesson on this illustrious day.

Also taken from Wikipedia:

Consequently, several theories have been proposed about the origin of the Friday the 13th superstition.

One theory states that it is a modern amalgamation of two older superstitions: that thirteen is an unlucky number and that Friday is an unlucky day

In numerology, the number twelve is considered the number of completeness, as reflected in the twelve months of the year, twelve hours of the clock, twelve gods of Olympus, twelve tribes of Israel, twelve Apostles of Jesus, the 12 Descendants of Muhammad Imams, etc., whereas the number thirteen was considered irregular, transgressing this completeness. There is also a superstition, thought by some to derive from the Last Supper or a Norse myth, that having thirteen people seated at a table will result in the death of one of the diners.

Friday has been considered an unlucky day at least since the 14th century's The Canterbury Tales, and many other professions have regarded Friday as an unlucky day to undertake journeys or begin new projects. Black Friday has been associated with stock market crashes and other disasters since the 1800s. It has also been suggested that Friday has been considered an unlucky day because, according to Christian scripture and tradition, Jesus was crucified on a Friday.

One author, noting that references are all but nonexistent before 1907 but frequently seen thereafter, has argued that its popularity derives from the publication that year ofThomas W. Lawson's popular novel Friday, the Thirteenth, in which an unscrupulous broker takes advantage of the superstition to create a Wall Street panic on a Friday the 13th. Records of the superstition are rarely found before the 20th century, when it became extremely common.

The connection between the Friday the 13th superstition and the Knights Templar was popularized in the 2003 novel The Da Vinci Code. However, experts agree that this is a relatively recent correlation, and most likely a modern-day invention. Although according to many Freemasons, this date corresponds with the slaughtering of the Knights Templar by the Church.



So... after a quick read on Wiki, one can deduce that there is absolutely no conclusive evidence of Friday the 13th being the harbringer of Bad Luck, but simply a ton of random bad luck things taking place on this day in the past. There are many theories and further down the Wiki page there is a list of references as to bad occurrences that just happened to have taken place on this day, but still, no coherent proof. Not so much as even a Lore existing as to why this day is feared by most people around the globe that dates back to even close to ancient times. I mean, the Pagans had beliefs about everything, right? Nothing on this myth, however, can be found among the multi-god worshipers of the old world. But, alas, the fear exists, even if the fear is not horrendously horrifying, but rather a humble hamper of humorous heggles. (I Alliterated again.. squee.)


After doing a little research and a minute amount of thinking, I have come to the conclusion that Friday the 13th is nothing more than a "fun" holiday. I like to think of it as more a Nature's version of April 1st, if in fact there are cosmic forces in the works to enact mischief upon us all. Hey, the gods need to have some fun too, yeah? I'll bet they are all sitting upon their clouds drinking ambrosia and laughing their butts off at all us silly humans with our squabbles and misfortunes saying, "Ha! Gotcha! Happy Unlucky Day! Pitiful Humans!"

As for me, nothing has happened yet to cause misfortune. In fact, it was Crazy Hat Friday the 13th at work. Then I had a beer. All is right in the world of Lollie.

But, the night is still young. There may still be a game afoot!!

The Frivolous, Fallacious Fellowship of Females

Don't you just LOVE alliterations?? I do! I enjoy them so much so that I have a smile on my face even though I am about to rant a little bit.

The Female Gender.

Why do girls love drama so much? I have tried to solve this dilemma since my first female "bestie" bested me out of a puppy love interest in middle school. Did the little slut like him? Not really. She just got close to me to get to him (he happened to be a good male friend to me at the time.)

All my life, I have had girls come into my life only to stab me in the back and start dramatic trends that would take years of therapy to get past if I didn't possess such a strong will.

Bullshit is bullshit my sisters. Just Cut It.

Today's post is a bit of a rant followed by some sound advice that I have acquired by experience first hand in the matters of drama dealing. If you have no mind to read my personal vendettas, then skip to the end. I will not be offended, trust me. :)

Here is a list of females of the adult variety that have been really close to me that have screwed me over whilst masked in the name of friendship: (I shall leave out names for reasons of decency, but you know who you are...)

Female roomate A: Moved in with me into my first apartment shortly after my guy roomie (who was AWESOME) moved out. Mind you, she had a destructive relationship with an abusive boyfriend and the way she was on the mend in her own life was that the bastard was thankfully in jail... until months later I find out from fucking female's Mom that "He's in the room with her! Omg he's back! Aren't you excited??) Hell. No. I'm furious. She hid him from me in OUR apt. for three days and neglected to inform me of said assholes return to the land of the free. Not acceptable. After I found out, I drove in a furious frenzy over to my bf's house to cool off (otherwise I would have capped the bitch for lying to me) for a day or so then upon returning to my compromised abode informed said female she had 24 hours to vacate the premises. (More like yelled some profanities along the lines of 'Get the F*** out of my house you ****ing ****!') Yeah, I paid over $1300 in cancellation fees for breaking my lease. Oh, did I mention she also tried to have sex with my possible boyfriend interest on my bed two months before that?

Female roomate B: Long story short. Also abusive relationship with her bf. Instead of hitting her though, he liked to punch holes in walls, in OUR apt. that I was also paying rent on. Thankfully, I was in really good with my own boyfriend at the time and stayed the majority of the time at his house. This "bestie" I found out months after breaking another lease on an apt with yet another destructive female, had only become my friend after she did in fact sleep with my boyfriend of the time at a house party when I went out of town for a weekend. I find this out a year later of course from her ex (the wall puncher). Aren't women grand?

The kicker~Most recent Ex-Best-Friend: I won't go into too much detail on this one, again for reasons of keeping some measure of decency on my part while slamming another person on the internet,and also since this wound is so new. Another long story short, this gal was on my bestie wagon for about 4-5 years. She definitely won the award for female companionship, and I thought I had finally found someone I could let down the walls for and trust. WRONG, again. After years of me helping said female with self-esteem issues and continuous problems in the male department (she had several, believe you me, like a ton) and what seemed like eons of being the Knight in Shinning Armor Best Friend, swooping in and saving her from sticky situations... Again I am faced with none other than the dramatic behind-the-back-talk and *whispers* from my favorite female come to mine ears to revel her true nature. After years of thinking someone was truly my friend, I find out that her true opinions of me where absolute bs, from several sources mind you (don't shit where you sleep, fyi), all the while she has been taking advantage of my good nature in trying to help her better her own situations. She also lied to me about several things, the big one got me when she implored me to keep secrets about her affairs of the sexual nature to two different men (both of which were friends of mine, ugh) all the while I find out she is lying to me about sleeping with a third male. Furious much? Here I am tearing my hair out at trying to keep girl code and all the while having a conscience full of demons for lying to two good guy friends of mine about the actions of my so called best friend, and she lies to me. Tit for Tat I guess. And of course, more ****-talk on her part comes to light before I decide to block her number and write her out of my life because I honestly have no desire to hear her spin more lies and excuses trying to explain herself. Instead of listening to said sob stories, which I put up with for years every time we got into a spat-I always forgave her, I rather imparted a little debauchery of my own and go to all said males and inform them that they may want to wash their privates more efficiently because she likes to play house calls in the same day. A little bitchy on my part, yes I know, but I think I deserved a little crack of my own after that whopper. Years of lying and deceit, no more thank you. I think I am done. Now, thankfully, she is out of sight, out of mind, and the world of me is much more sane and pleasant. Did I mention it took her weeks after we "broke up" to move her car from my apt. complex? Still trying to take advantage. Poison, I tell you. Toxic female.

I am sure that each and every one of you, whether male or female, has had some ridiculous female drama of your own, and can sympathize with my situations and my reasoning for having my defenses so high when it comes to members of my own gender. I have no patience for female drama. Take your sob stories somewhere else girls, because this is one fed up lady. If you ask me for advice, I will listen with an open heart and sincere ear, and proceed to give the best advice I can offer, but if you deny to take action on said advice, get hurt again, and come crying to me about it, Again, prepare to have a door slammed in your face. I'm not being mean, but grow the f*** up and handle your own problems like an adult. *rant* If you are unable to handle your own life, don't even think of bringing it to my door.

Stepping off my soap box and semi-indecent display of "Look at what these bitches did to me!" I shall revert back to the Purpose of this Post in the Present *Squee*:

1. Women, for the most part, are not as honest as you may think they are. Sorry, but it is the sad truth.

2. Everyone talks shit about everyone when the curtain is drawn. The difference comes when the shit talking is admitted and forgiveness is requested. Of course, said shit talking must stop in order to be effective.

3. Even after "knowing" someone for years and years, the drama will always ALWAYS destroy whatever connection you think you may have had. Solution: Cut the Drama. Easy Peasy.

I am a no-nonsense kind of girl, and this year is all about me and what I can do to better myself as a person. That includes taking out the trash in my life. Now, granted, there are some females in my life that I would do absolutely anything for, but they are a tiny band of trust-worthies, and I hate to say it, but I fear that the ball will still drop at some point in the future and the drama will catch up with us as well. I pray to the gods that does not come to pass... I don't think my back can handle another stab wound, the others are still pretty raw and fester from time to time.

My advice, make friends, but keep your guard up. You truly never know who is out there to do you harm. The worst hurts can come in the most beautiful packages.

P.S. I was thinking of what I was going to write for today's post last night after conversing with a female I was not on the best of terms with before the night began. Now that the air has been cleared between the two of us, it made me reflect on all the unnecessary wrongs I had incurred by members of the female variety. What sealed the deal on my scribblings was a wake up call this morning from ex-besties bank asking for reference information, no doubt to re-secure her unemployment because she messed up again and they are reviewing her case, Again.

Yeah, I deleted that voicemail.

The Little Things...

Today is about the little pleasures in life. Most of us are so busy in the hustle and bustle of our everyday lives that we forget what these little pleasures can afford us. We are a hurried nation; stressed to the point of breaking. Why is this? Well, our economy is in the shitter, unemployment is skyrocketing and now the government is taking away aid for a vast amount of people that are already out of work in our glorious U. S. of A., and the struggle to survive is becoming more and more intense for the average, middle class loser just trying to make it through the day without bill collectors hassling the phone lines.

How do we deal with all of this?

The answer is more simple than you may think, even if it doesn't solve all the bigger problems in life. The simple solution is to take a step back, center, and breathe in and out. Just remember that things could ALWAYS be a lot worse... (in fact it is for a lot of people in other parts of our quaint planet.)

Just Breathe.

Let go of all the problems for at least a little portion of the day. Save some time each day just for yourself. Do what ever makes you happy; think about whatever it is that makes you smile and hopeful. With the new year rolling in, a lot of people have New Years resolutions they are trying to fulfill, and may be struggling with even after only a couple weeks... *wink*

This little quiet time can be used to think of future goals you wish to accomplish for yourself. Lose that ten pounds of fluff, go for a walk, pick up a book you have always wanted to read but have not had the time. Taking just ten minutes a day to think for yourself, and only yourself, can mean all the difference in our sanity.

I like to spend my "Lollie" time in a variety of ways, but my favorite by far is tea time. Usually I start off my morning with Yoga or some cardio action outside (gotta get in shape for that wedding!) Afterwards, I soooo look forward to my little piece of heaven, an exquisitely refreshing cup of tea. Sometimes, especially in the case of my running excursion, my tea time is the motivator; a little reward to myself for a job well done in getting off my butt and doing something to better myself. My tea time is my meditation. It is a time of reflection and inspiration that affords me the strength to accomplish my goals, both tall and small.

So, my advice to you: stop what you are doing, take ten minutes, grab some Starbucks, and revel in the little things in life. And remember...

Just. Breathe.

Tuesday, Tuesday

What can I say that is interesting about Tuesdays... I guess I can start with my average Tuesday routine, which begins with Yoga. Yes, I know what you are thinking, "She's one of THOSE girls..." Yeah, you know the kind. Eats healthy, super flexible, listens to rain drop and ocean sounds on her iPod to meditate. Well, yeah actually, I am! And so what? As if it is cliche to workout and want to better myself as a person, both body and soul. What do YOU do in your free time? Watch TV? Go out drinking with your buddies? Eat wings like they are going extinct???

Big surprise! I do those things too!

The difference is that I do them in moderation and be sure to balance out the bad I am putting into my body with the good I can do for it by working it out. Life is about balance, and a delicate one at that. So, before you begin to turn your nose up at me, just remember, I can eat an entire pot of mashed taters and will probably not get fat because I decide to get off my lazy butt and exercise the next morning. Don't hate because I am into the weirdness, appreciate that I care enough about my body to make it appealing and strong. This is one gal who won't have saggy boobage when she gets old! :D