So it would appear that Fresno is putting on a live show, albeit a little tweaked, and somewhat updated from its retro ancestor, of the much-beloved "Rocky Horror Picture Show". That's right, there's going to be a theater show, done at the Artists' Repertory Theatre here in Fresno.
I think it might be interesting, to see a live show, which they admit is geared strictly for the adult audience, and to see how they've 'updated' Rocky Horror.
Friday, October 31, 2008
What I want
More than anything? Is to have enough money to get a plane ticket, to fly to Montana next October, from the 8th until the 11th. Camp Make-A-Dream 14th Annual Women's Cancer Retreat (October 8-11, 2009)
The Women's Cancer Retreat is offered to women who have been diagnosed with any form of cancer and is not diagnosis specific. We can accommodate up to 65 women at each retreat on a first come, first serve basis.
Registration fee for the four-day retreat is $150.00.
* Women who are currently undergoing cancer treatment are welcome
* Medical staff available during the retreat.
To get on the mailing list for this retreat, please contact Jennifer Benton at : jennifer@campdream.org or call (406)549-5987. Registration forms will be available in the spring and posted to this website as well.
Transportation to Montana for these retreats is not included in the registration fee; however, if you are flying into Missoula, Montana, we will pick you up at the Missoula airport and transport you to and from the camp facility in Gold Creek (which is approximately 65 miles east of Missoula).
That's what I want. I want to be able to go, and for four days, spend my time on 85 acres in Montana, with a place full of women like me. Who would understand what it's like to be me, every single day. Survivors, who went through things like I went through, and are still here. I want to be able to afford to fly into Missoula, Montana, and stay at a ranch for four days, and then come back to my life.
Maybe it's stupid, and petty, and pathetic. Making dumb little art projects, and talking with people I don't know, and doing little junior high campfires, or whatever it is you do. But people have been asking me what I want, or why I'm sad, or what's going on. Well, that's what I want. I want to go to a place, where everyone will understand what's going on inside of me. Where I don't need to try and explain it, or put on some sort of happy face for them. Because they'll just *know*.
And I probably won't be able to manage it. But, hey, maybe in a couple of years I'll be able to manage it, and then I'll go. The camp isn't going anyplace. Perhaps I'll see if they need a volunteer for the junior camp, as a counselor or something, and be able to go that way, over the summer. Who knows.
I'm going to bed now. It's raining, and I can sleep, listening to the rain.
The Women's Cancer Retreat is offered to women who have been diagnosed with any form of cancer and is not diagnosis specific. We can accommodate up to 65 women at each retreat on a first come, first serve basis.
Registration fee for the four-day retreat is $150.00.
* Women who are currently undergoing cancer treatment are welcome
* Medical staff available during the retreat.
To get on the mailing list for this retreat, please contact Jennifer Benton at : jennifer@campdream.org or call (406)549-5987. Registration forms will be available in the spring and posted to this website as well.
Transportation to Montana for these retreats is not included in the registration fee; however, if you are flying into Missoula, Montana, we will pick you up at the Missoula airport and transport you to and from the camp facility in Gold Creek (which is approximately 65 miles east of Missoula).
That's what I want. I want to be able to go, and for four days, spend my time on 85 acres in Montana, with a place full of women like me. Who would understand what it's like to be me, every single day. Survivors, who went through things like I went through, and are still here. I want to be able to afford to fly into Missoula, Montana, and stay at a ranch for four days, and then come back to my life.
Maybe it's stupid, and petty, and pathetic. Making dumb little art projects, and talking with people I don't know, and doing little junior high campfires, or whatever it is you do. But people have been asking me what I want, or why I'm sad, or what's going on. Well, that's what I want. I want to go to a place, where everyone will understand what's going on inside of me. Where I don't need to try and explain it, or put on some sort of happy face for them. Because they'll just *know*.
And I probably won't be able to manage it. But, hey, maybe in a couple of years I'll be able to manage it, and then I'll go. The camp isn't going anyplace. Perhaps I'll see if they need a volunteer for the junior camp, as a counselor or something, and be able to go that way, over the summer. Who knows.
I'm going to bed now. It's raining, and I can sleep, listening to the rain.
Thursday, October 30, 2008
When it isn't okay?
What do you do then? And it's a slippery slope, right? When do you decide between taking the pills because you have to take them in order to function, and feel like a human being, or are you taking them to block out the reality that's become your life?
To be somewhat more pleasant, or to just not deal with anything? And yes, you don't actually need to take them. Can go weeks at a time without so much as taking the lid off the bottles. In fact, months in between. But deep down, everything is just so much better when you take them by the handful, all day long. And there's a nice, pleasant haze over everything.
Nothing hurts, then. Physically, some things still hurt. It takes the edge off, and the drugs do what they're designed to do. And hey, you can still function, work, talk, interact with everyone and everything around you. But emotionally? You feel none of the dark despair that coats every aspect of your life, and that's a damn good change of pace.
And when do you decide which way is wrong? After all, they're yours. Nice and sweet and legal. No funny business, nothing wrong here. Even taking less than the recommended doses! Not taking things from other sources, not taking anything off-label. Absolutely nothing strange going on.
But, oh, the wonderful glazed feeling, where nothing can touch you. A haze, where nothing matters, and it doesn't matter what will happen tomorrow, or next week, or hell, even five minutes from now, or two minutes ago. What happened last year, or six months ago? Gone, in a lovely batch of pills that are all yours. And the supply won't run out, because they're meant for you, and no one else.
You don't have to worry about where you'll get more from, and you don't need to think about the things those "other" people who are "addicts" need to think about. It's such a fine line, right? You don't smoke, and you don't drink. And you only take doctor prescribed medications, and you don't do any of the bad things. You're a good person. You don't break laws, and you aren't hurting anyone.
Except maybe yourself. But even that you're not sure about anymore. How can it be bad if it finally makes everything stop hurting for a while? If it makes sleep come, and the nightmares stop? Six months is a long time to go without being able to sleep without nightmares. To try and function like a normal person, without shattering into pieces, with no one to hold onto, and no way to get through.
So who draws the line, between right and wrong, when the only person you have to make decisions for is yourself?
To be somewhat more pleasant, or to just not deal with anything? And yes, you don't actually need to take them. Can go weeks at a time without so much as taking the lid off the bottles. In fact, months in between. But deep down, everything is just so much better when you take them by the handful, all day long. And there's a nice, pleasant haze over everything.
Nothing hurts, then. Physically, some things still hurt. It takes the edge off, and the drugs do what they're designed to do. And hey, you can still function, work, talk, interact with everyone and everything around you. But emotionally? You feel none of the dark despair that coats every aspect of your life, and that's a damn good change of pace.
And when do you decide which way is wrong? After all, they're yours. Nice and sweet and legal. No funny business, nothing wrong here. Even taking less than the recommended doses! Not taking things from other sources, not taking anything off-label. Absolutely nothing strange going on.
But, oh, the wonderful glazed feeling, where nothing can touch you. A haze, where nothing matters, and it doesn't matter what will happen tomorrow, or next week, or hell, even five minutes from now, or two minutes ago. What happened last year, or six months ago? Gone, in a lovely batch of pills that are all yours. And the supply won't run out, because they're meant for you, and no one else.
You don't have to worry about where you'll get more from, and you don't need to think about the things those "other" people who are "addicts" need to think about. It's such a fine line, right? You don't smoke, and you don't drink. And you only take doctor prescribed medications, and you don't do any of the bad things. You're a good person. You don't break laws, and you aren't hurting anyone.
Except maybe yourself. But even that you're not sure about anymore. How can it be bad if it finally makes everything stop hurting for a while? If it makes sleep come, and the nightmares stop? Six months is a long time to go without being able to sleep without nightmares. To try and function like a normal person, without shattering into pieces, with no one to hold onto, and no way to get through.
So who draws the line, between right and wrong, when the only person you have to make decisions for is yourself?
Oh, the Antec 900. Feel the black steel
Yeah, okay. I've gone to the dark side. They had cookies. And better computers. Here are the specs:
Antec 900 Black Steel ATX Mid Tower computer Case
Asus P5Q Pro LGA 775 Intel P45 ATX Intel Motherboard
Intel Core 2 Duo E8500 Wolfdale 3.6 GHz LGA 775 65W Dual-Core Processor
Asus EN9800GTX+ DK/HTDI/512m GeForce 9800 GTX+ 512MB 256-bit GDDR3 PCI Express 2.0 x16 HDCP Ready SLI Supported Video Card
Antec Signature SG650 650W ATX12V/EPS12V SLI Certified CrossFire Ready 80 PLUS Certified Modular Active PFC Power Supply
OCZ Fatal1ty Edition 8 GB (4 X 2GB) 240-Pin DDR SDRAM DDR2 1066 (PS2 8500)
Arctic Cooling Freezer 7 Pro 92mm CPU cooler
Western Digital Caviar SE16 640GB 7200 RPM SATA 3.0Gb/s HD
MS Windows Vista Home Premium SP1 64-bit English for System Builders
And there's a Phillips DVD burner going into the new rig, and my regular keyboard, and a new trackball mouse, the new headset that Sis & Shawn got me for my birthday to use for Vent.
The old system? Being converted into a Linux box, and I'm signing onto the Fresno Linux group, as I'll be needing to learn it, and that's the fastest way I can think of. Guess it's time to embrace my inner geek, and accept that I truly do want to be educated about some things in a more technical fashion.
But that computer's gonna be sweet. Will post pics once I have it up and running. Rest of the parts will be here Monday. Only the case is here so far.
Antec 900 Black Steel ATX Mid Tower computer Case
Asus P5Q Pro LGA 775 Intel P45 ATX Intel Motherboard
Intel Core 2 Duo E8500 Wolfdale 3.6 GHz LGA 775 65W Dual-Core Processor
Asus EN9800GTX+ DK/HTDI/512m GeForce 9800 GTX+ 512MB 256-bit GDDR3 PCI Express 2.0 x16 HDCP Ready SLI Supported Video Card
Antec Signature SG650 650W ATX12V/EPS12V SLI Certified CrossFire Ready 80 PLUS Certified Modular Active PFC Power Supply
OCZ Fatal1ty Edition 8 GB (4 X 2GB) 240-Pin DDR SDRAM DDR2 1066 (PS2 8500)
Arctic Cooling Freezer 7 Pro 92mm CPU cooler
Western Digital Caviar SE16 640GB 7200 RPM SATA 3.0Gb/s HD
MS Windows Vista Home Premium SP1 64-bit English for System Builders
And there's a Phillips DVD burner going into the new rig, and my regular keyboard, and a new trackball mouse, the new headset that Sis & Shawn got me for my birthday to use for Vent.
The old system? Being converted into a Linux box, and I'm signing onto the Fresno Linux group, as I'll be needing to learn it, and that's the fastest way I can think of. Guess it's time to embrace my inner geek, and accept that I truly do want to be educated about some things in a more technical fashion.
But that computer's gonna be sweet. Will post pics once I have it up and running. Rest of the parts will be here Monday. Only the case is here so far.
Monday, October 27, 2008
He came back last night, and nothing ever hurt me so much. Standing on the darkened doorstep, the sound of the doorchime echoing through the silent apartment, startling me out of my normal evening routine. I wasn't even particularly thinking of him anymore, when I opened it. And there he was.
And the memories and feelings hit me like a freight train, crushing me under the weight of what I'd lost. What I discovered in that instant I wasn't sure I even wanted again. And still, more fool I, I let him in.
"Are you...?", my words just fell into silence, as I found I had nothing to say, nothing I wanted to ask. Did I want to know why he was there? No, as it turned out. I knew what he was there for. The real question is whether or not I wanted to be that person again.
I waited, to see what he'd say, to see if he'd even bother with an apology. He moved toward me, to hold me, to try and return to the way things had been. And I moved away. It wasn't going to be easy. Things changed, I changed.
Sometimes, things can circle around, and go back and rings within rings can make connections. And sometimes, things just change. And sometimes things can break so many times, that at a certain point, no amount of glue can repair the damage anymore, and cracks show through, and the precious glass shatters into myriad pieces, to never be repaired again.
And sometimes, if the glass is placed under intense fire, it will melt into something new, and sometimes the new art won't look the same. It will meld, and it will change, and it will morph into something entirely different. But different doesn't mean it can't be beautiful and unique. It simply means it is no longer what it was. And the process of tempering it, will make it stronger, because the cracks that were there, have been removed, and the piece is whole once more.
And I looked at him, standing there. With his beautiful eyes, and the body I loved so well, and asked finally, "Why are you here? There isn't really anyone here that you want, is there?", and watched as he stared at me in confusion.
The idea that I'd finally reached the place where I didn't desperately want or need him, or throw myself into his open arms, was beyond comprehension. The concept that I wouldn't just sit, and wait until it was convenient for him to come back and dust me off, and use me again, that didn't make any sense. I could see it in his eyes.
Women didn't get over him, he got over them. He chose when and where and how it ended. And I did the unfathomable, and simply didn't care anymore. I looked at a man I would have willingly walked through fire for, and felt...nothing. Less than nothing, when I realized I couldn't quite work up enough concern to even ask how he was doing, or any of the common courtesy questions that one asks an acquaintance.
And he talked, because he never lacked for his poetic words, beautiful words that meant nothing, and when he ran out of those words, I let him leave. Because it doesn't matter anymore, and then it was over. There was nothing left to try and save. The feelings were all on my side, and all his pretty words were lies. Certainly, he would have preferred it if he'd been able to get laid again. For I was good at that, and there were side benefits to it. But we weren't even friends, it was nothing more than a convenient outlet for him, which I suspect was truly why he was here.
He isn't capable of being honest with himself enough to admit that. He never will be able to be honest enough to see a lot of things about himself. He will continue to go on his way, and manipulate and use the women who fall prey to his charm, and the beautiful words he can speak and write, and then be left behind when he grows bored, and moves on to the next one that he falls in love with.
And that's fine, as long as the victims aren't me. Let someone else pick up the pieces of the poor, shattered man that he portrays. Let someone else comfort him in the middle of the night, and try to take care of him. He took everything I had to give, and gave me absolutely nothing in return, and it took me a very long time to see any of it. I made excuse after excuse for his pathetic behaviour, and made myself into a fool, and made myself available to be emotionally destroyed.
Epic fail on my part. No more.
And the memories and feelings hit me like a freight train, crushing me under the weight of what I'd lost. What I discovered in that instant I wasn't sure I even wanted again. And still, more fool I, I let him in.
"Are you...?", my words just fell into silence, as I found I had nothing to say, nothing I wanted to ask. Did I want to know why he was there? No, as it turned out. I knew what he was there for. The real question is whether or not I wanted to be that person again.
I waited, to see what he'd say, to see if he'd even bother with an apology. He moved toward me, to hold me, to try and return to the way things had been. And I moved away. It wasn't going to be easy. Things changed, I changed.
Sometimes, things can circle around, and go back and rings within rings can make connections. And sometimes, things just change. And sometimes things can break so many times, that at a certain point, no amount of glue can repair the damage anymore, and cracks show through, and the precious glass shatters into myriad pieces, to never be repaired again.
And sometimes, if the glass is placed under intense fire, it will melt into something new, and sometimes the new art won't look the same. It will meld, and it will change, and it will morph into something entirely different. But different doesn't mean it can't be beautiful and unique. It simply means it is no longer what it was. And the process of tempering it, will make it stronger, because the cracks that were there, have been removed, and the piece is whole once more.
And I looked at him, standing there. With his beautiful eyes, and the body I loved so well, and asked finally, "Why are you here? There isn't really anyone here that you want, is there?", and watched as he stared at me in confusion.
The idea that I'd finally reached the place where I didn't desperately want or need him, or throw myself into his open arms, was beyond comprehension. The concept that I wouldn't just sit, and wait until it was convenient for him to come back and dust me off, and use me again, that didn't make any sense. I could see it in his eyes.
Women didn't get over him, he got over them. He chose when and where and how it ended. And I did the unfathomable, and simply didn't care anymore. I looked at a man I would have willingly walked through fire for, and felt...nothing. Less than nothing, when I realized I couldn't quite work up enough concern to even ask how he was doing, or any of the common courtesy questions that one asks an acquaintance.
And he talked, because he never lacked for his poetic words, beautiful words that meant nothing, and when he ran out of those words, I let him leave. Because it doesn't matter anymore, and then it was over. There was nothing left to try and save. The feelings were all on my side, and all his pretty words were lies. Certainly, he would have preferred it if he'd been able to get laid again. For I was good at that, and there were side benefits to it. But we weren't even friends, it was nothing more than a convenient outlet for him, which I suspect was truly why he was here.
He isn't capable of being honest with himself enough to admit that. He never will be able to be honest enough to see a lot of things about himself. He will continue to go on his way, and manipulate and use the women who fall prey to his charm, and the beautiful words he can speak and write, and then be left behind when he grows bored, and moves on to the next one that he falls in love with.
And that's fine, as long as the victims aren't me. Let someone else pick up the pieces of the poor, shattered man that he portrays. Let someone else comfort him in the middle of the night, and try to take care of him. He took everything I had to give, and gave me absolutely nothing in return, and it took me a very long time to see any of it. I made excuse after excuse for his pathetic behaviour, and made myself into a fool, and made myself available to be emotionally destroyed.
Epic fail on my part. No more.
Air, Earth, Fire, Water - Elemental - Spirit
Air is not for me, it's not mine. I have almost no affinity for the common themes of Air when associated with my path, with the things I choose to follow. New beginnings, childhood and fresh starts. Brightness, light. The things that surround and lift, and represent through air, those things aren't me. It's actually fairly apt that it's not my sign, or the symbol to fit me. There are two, both water and fire are mine. Water, as my Zodiac Cancer, and Fire for my Chinese Snake, both are mine. Peculiar, as I once would have thought they might have canceled each other out, but they don't.
They balance me, now. I love the rain. I love the sound of it, the smell of it, and as I've written before, the first good storm of a season soothes me in a way nothing else can. The ocean has the same effect, and I'll most likely head for it soon, to escape all the turmoil that's been going on here for the last few weeks if I can manage it. I might not be able to, and if I can't, I'll head for the nearest large body of water, because it calms me down.
And Fire. Fire still seems apt to fit me, even now. I'm more calm than I used to be. But under the calm exterior I've learned to present, if someone managed to take a reading showing what went on under that surface, it would flame bright and high, and clean. And it would most likely be vicious, and of the third-degree variety. And yet, I can sit cold as ice, under most circumstances now.
More so, over the last couple of months. I've been refining, and meditating, and it's becoming more evident in my control. And I've had fairly good control, and it's better now. I've been practicing more than I have in years, now that I'm in school, I've simply chosen to increase my practice of Wicca as well. And I'm glad that I did.
And then there's earth. I choose to embrace that, as it interests me, more than because it chooses me. Nature interests me. Not in the "oh, let's go camping" kind of interest, but in the aspect that I can feel the things around me, and that makes me feel complete. And I enjoy that, and I see no reason to not embrace that.
And last, but not least, I'll throw out there for good measure, to anyone who is interested, spirit. The last element, as it were. Because there are five, total, that make up who and what I am, and what makes me, me. And makes me whole.
Some of them are broken right now, and I'm working on repairing that. It's been a long month, and I'm filled with nothing but gratitude that I have the next little while that I can focus solely on pulling myself out of the slump, and that Samhain approaches quickly now, and as such, can pass on by, and be done with it. It's time now, to move on, and to let the veil stop being quite so thin.
I'm going to need to re-read this tomorrow, as it's very late, and I'm not certain of the coherency of this post. I'm exhausted, again. Brody, if it doesn't make sense, tell me tomorrow.
They balance me, now. I love the rain. I love the sound of it, the smell of it, and as I've written before, the first good storm of a season soothes me in a way nothing else can. The ocean has the same effect, and I'll most likely head for it soon, to escape all the turmoil that's been going on here for the last few weeks if I can manage it. I might not be able to, and if I can't, I'll head for the nearest large body of water, because it calms me down.
And Fire. Fire still seems apt to fit me, even now. I'm more calm than I used to be. But under the calm exterior I've learned to present, if someone managed to take a reading showing what went on under that surface, it would flame bright and high, and clean. And it would most likely be vicious, and of the third-degree variety. And yet, I can sit cold as ice, under most circumstances now.
More so, over the last couple of months. I've been refining, and meditating, and it's becoming more evident in my control. And I've had fairly good control, and it's better now. I've been practicing more than I have in years, now that I'm in school, I've simply chosen to increase my practice of Wicca as well. And I'm glad that I did.
And then there's earth. I choose to embrace that, as it interests me, more than because it chooses me. Nature interests me. Not in the "oh, let's go camping" kind of interest, but in the aspect that I can feel the things around me, and that makes me feel complete. And I enjoy that, and I see no reason to not embrace that.
And last, but not least, I'll throw out there for good measure, to anyone who is interested, spirit. The last element, as it were. Because there are five, total, that make up who and what I am, and what makes me, me. And makes me whole.
Some of them are broken right now, and I'm working on repairing that. It's been a long month, and I'm filled with nothing but gratitude that I have the next little while that I can focus solely on pulling myself out of the slump, and that Samhain approaches quickly now, and as such, can pass on by, and be done with it. It's time now, to move on, and to let the veil stop being quite so thin.
I'm going to need to re-read this tomorrow, as it's very late, and I'm not certain of the coherency of this post. I'm exhausted, again. Brody, if it doesn't make sense, tell me tomorrow.
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
I joined the ranks.
Of project playlist. And I joined it, because I wanted to post more lyrics, to a song called "Shattered", but I got tired of posting lyrics. So I instead put on a playlist.
And now I'm going to bed. Because I'm sick, and I don't feel good, and nothing feels right. And I'm taking many drugs, and collapsing.
Bye.
And now I'm going to bed. Because I'm sick, and I don't feel good, and nothing feels right. And I'm taking many drugs, and collapsing.
Bye.
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