in wisconsin
05/28/2003 02:42 p.m.
drove a while, sister took over after about the first third. which was just as well, she (kind of) knew where we were going. did alot of back tracking and such as we tried finding the way. fun tho. haven't laughed this hard in a while.

pretty area. at the library in the town where the scholarship presentation will be. need to find a place to set up camp and a place to dress for this eve. also need to figure out what i want to say. hm.

haven't heard from mel, so hopefully she got my message.

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website
05/26/2003 02:58 p.m.
...is moving along nicely. finally have the splash finished. of course, that was the fairly easy part. image on it is fairly large, will take a while to load via dialup, if i get the site reviewed when i finish i'm bound to hear about that. but i don't care as long as it works for me, which is why i'd make a poor professional website designer.

suppose part of the reason is because it IS my PERSONAL site and i'm extremely ambivalent about letting random people in to see it anyways. i am careful about letting people i don't know see that much about me until i know them. random surfers don't bother me, they don't know me and chances are better than average they never will. random acquaintances are different, lol. they know enough to draw conclusions and make judgments.

had words with mel on sf last night. told her i was tired of having it shoved down my throat. i'm glad she's enthusiastic about it, but hopefully she'll back off a little now. there's more to my life than web sites...even if they're taking up a large chunk of time at the moment.

fear in me so deep
it gets the best of me
in the fear i fall
here it comes face to face with me
here i stand
hold back so no one can see
i feel these wounds

step down
..........step down
....................step DOWN

am i breaking down?
can i break away?
---downfall, trust company
I am currently Reflective
I am listening to downfall - trust company on endless repeat

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something to write about...
05/18/2003 05:54 a.m.
went to the movies with mother and sister. amazing study on how people change.

sister was p.o'd when i was talking to her over msn because ma wouldn't let her go to the movies with friends to see matrix 2. so i think this partly a peace offering on ma's part...but anyways, she hired a sitter to watch the adoptees so she could go with us.

kind of out of character for ma. or at least the ma i grew up with. of course, back then we had no money to do anything anyways. i can count on three fingers the number of times i remember being watched by a hired sitter. when i got old enough, i WAS the (unpaid) sitter.

then there was the movie, x-men 2. she loved it. considering that she was always complaining when we watched the cartoon version of x-men, that just made me shake my head. back then we had to sneak around and hope she didn't realize what we were watching.

heh, i loved the movie too. but then, i've been a fan of it since the cartoon first came out. gah, it never ceases to amaze me that parents will let their kids watch loony tunes, which is nothing but a string of mindless violent acts strung together, and then object to them watching a show that actually makes sense, has an intelligent plotline, and genuine character development.

obviously i have a grudge of long standing against cartoon programs that treat viewers like morons. it is of very long standing, the first cartoon i ever loved showed around 1980. i don't remember a whole lot about except that it too had an actual plotline. something about the after effects of an asteriod hitting the earth or a nuclear winter...can't remember which. anyways, i used to drag my sorry carcass out of bed at 7am saturday mornings even tho i wasn't a morning person to watch it, a rather difficult undertaking for a five year old.

not all kids are as stupid as tv programmers seem to think they are. it would be nice if more realized it. thankfully, there were books. lol.

in other news, i am at ma's tonight. i am also at 99 comments on my work here at path. who will lucky number 100 be? ............... updated: thank you to rommel cruz, lucky number 100.

emode test results from this afternoon:

The Brainteaser Test
You answered 25 out of 30 questions correctly!

Congratulations! Your score is in the 96th percentile. When we analyzed your test, we also discovered that when it comes to visual-spatial ability, you measure in the 100th percentile. This score indicates you have unusually strong abilities when it comes to spotting patterns in the world around you. You're easily able to envision things spatially in different positions, and this allows you to determine what spatial patterns are present. Compared with you, most others lack the creative ability and/or skill to imagine the movement of objects or patterns in time and space.

.....no big surprise there, patterns are much easier for me to see than working out mathematical equations. altho making statements based on 30 questions seems a bit unreliable.
I am currently Bemused
I am listening to puter hum, dryer running

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i need a frigging keeper
05/16/2003 05:02 a.m.
yes, i am ticked off. locked myself out of the trailer. keys and i SO do not get along. i don't even know how i did it. don't even REMEMBER locking the freaking door...usually i only do when i'm home or going somewhere for a long time cuz i do stupid things like that. somebody save me from myself.

i'm pmsing, screwed up my back and feel like something the cat dragged in. on top of that, i have to replace the screen to the back door where i shredded it trying to get in. which didn't work. ended up calling parents, half hour drive for them at 10:30pm, to come pry the door open. and dad has to be up at 2am to leave for work. all because i put off getting a stupid inexpensive key because i haven't had money enough to spare lately for anything that wasn't a bill or food. which was my own fault for agreeing to chaperone sister's field trip...but i don't really regret that all that much. gah, i just wish i could get a brain transplant. i'm tired of forgetting.

...............
okay, day after. slightly improved. but, umm..yeah. whatever.

g=e*P made it to most creative top ten list a while back. that really did surprise me. was just a matter of good timing i guess, because really, it wasn't that good of a piece. sorta made me wince to see it there representing me when i knew it needed so much more work. the flow into the personality section is nonexistant. need to iron that out, think i have a more efficient way of looking at that aspect of it, but i need to incubate the idea a bit longer before it'll be workable.

reading rhodora fitzgerald this morning. she has a knack for calm, soothing, concise writings with easy to understand image/comparisons. i liked most of what i read, but not a lot to comment on them.

other things i liked, cymbre dolphay's aphrodite. definately pegged that particular goddess, i agreed with her entirely on her view expressed. also liked rommel cruz' the princess' knight, a lovely satire there. laughed so hard when i read the lines on the frogs...

there was one somebody titled run that i really identified with. but i lost the journal entry i wrote on it before i posted it. grrrrrrrrrrrrrr. third or fourth time that happened lately, need to do something about puter. plus i lost a poem written about jake's accident because i didn't save it before my puter froze up. that's not going to be rewritten any time soon...it was hard enough to do it once.

am working on a new layout for my website, scribblings of insanity. using one of the pix from then and lyrics from linkin park. i don't usually go for human type pics beings as i have issues with technology. love my puter, but too oft supposed 'progress' comes at the expense of natural resources better left as is. usually prefer nature themed pix.

but anyways...this new layout is a bit morbid. there are some realities people kind of rather don't want to look at.
I am currently Angry
I am listening to puter making weird noises

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sometimes it would be nice not to remember
05/11/2003 05:29 p.m.
[disclaimer: i am no longer suicidal. this happened a long time ago. yes, i get depressed sometimes. i deal with it. the following content might be considered adult by some people, altho it is NOT sexual in nature and there is no foul language involved. capitalization also varies. read on at own risk.]















there are some things, once broken, that never mend.

it has been almost a decade and half, but i remember. too well.

ninth grade, flunking algebra. i never told them, of course. just a little more time and i'd catch back up, i lied to myself. meantime falling farther and farther behind but not really caring. thoughts of suicide keeping constant company with worthlessness and fear. truthfully, i would rather have died than show them that report card but i kept procrastinating because i was too cowardly to take the final step.

the choice was taken out of my hands by my snooping little brother.

ironicly, i was sitting in twilight gray on the third basement step contemplating whether or not to show them that day and what the consequences would be when i heard him come running down the hall, yelling, "Mom! Mom! Look what I found!" i knew. his voice was filled with the glee siblings become infected with when they've found something incriminating and they know the guilty sib is in BIG trouble. the conversation i eavesdropped on through the paper thin walls confirmed my premonition.

oddly enough, my first reaction was one of light-headed relief. at least the hiding was over with. that feeling did not last very long, although it did give me the needed strength to answer their furious summoning. It gave out under the first barrage of questions.

Not that I recall any of them now. What I do remember is the stress and terror blurring my eyesight until the splotches on the carpeting ran together. Part of me detached from myself and studied the intriguing effect while a second part gibbered unintelligibly in back corner of my mind. The remainder focused on trying to field their questions in a manner that might lesson their rage, with little success.

Dad was a side issue. I already knew what he'd do. Talk and talk and talk without getting to the real problem and then beat me. I expected that. I deserved it. Having compounded laziness with lying, there was no expectation of escaping just punishment.

Mom was the one who broke me.

Part of it was the cold. If she had lost her temper and attacked me, I would have born it better. That was not frequent, but nothing new. But her anger was cold and sharp, full of needles and angles. I was standing as far away as possible without being in another room. She commanded me closer to where she was stretched out on the couch. I stepped a few steps closer, but that wasn't enough for what she had in mind.

My survival instincts were fairly well-developed, I would rather have run than go any closer than I was when her face was all tight lines, but i knew it would make things worse. So I went.

She made me kneel down next to her and take my glasses off. Then she punched me in the face. I knelt there while she looked at me like I was some disgusting piece of trash the wind had blown in, red dripping all over my hands as I tried to stop the blood. Several long moments later, she dismissed me to clean up.

Of course I had to go back, endure the lecturing, then the beating. That was nothing. I was already broken, numb, in shock.

What made that incident so different? It's not like she had never been in a cold rage before. Nor was it that uncommon for me and/or my brothers to be physically damaged in the name of punishment. I had been hit, slapped, beaten, kicked, picked up and slammed against the wall by my throat all before this, by either her or dad. While the worst of it was not particularly common, it had happened. It was not new.

I think it was the slow deliberation she showed. She was in full control of her actions, it was not just rage. Nor was it just punishment, I could see/feel her need to hurt me with her own hands. It was also the first and only time I had been intentionally punched in the face, which no doubt had its own shock value. Mostly I believe it was the unintended confirmation of her feelings toward me.

The good child, the smart one...that was my place. I had failed in both, I had disgraced the family name. There was nothing to recommend me now as a member of the family. There were always money problems, we were often reminded of how expensive six kids were to raise. The more depressed I became, the more I pondered on how my non-existance would benefit my siblings in the long run. I was tired of being afraid all the time anyways.

I knew parents were supposed to love their children. I knew children were supposed to love their parents. I had doubts about whether they loved me before that day, I couldn't even tell if I loved them. I knew I feared them. Whether she meant them to or not, Mom's actions that night served to confirm to me that my doubts were correct and justified.

The next morning, before school, I tried to kill myself. Slitting wrists was out, blood doesn't bother me but i have issues with inside wrists. Besides, I wasn't about to take the chance I might be found alive enough to be saved. There was nothing in the closet stronger than tylenol and I didn't know if a person could o.d. on tylenol. I was supposed to face the school officials that day, was getting desperate. And if I missed the bus I'd've had to deal with Mom which I didn't want at all. Mixed household chemicals and drank.

Obviously, I picked the wrong ones. Aside from an upset stomach which could have been attributed to nerves, I survived the day. And the week. And the month. Never told anyone until six or seven years later I had even tried. Was too ashamed of failing. Just as well I did fail though.

epilogue:
some might read this and think it was nothing and/or it was less than i deserved. some may read it and be horrified. it doesn't matter. i write this not for pity or sympathy, i write it because it is part of what had made me who i am...and because i must unlearn some of what it taught me.
I am currently Calm
I am listening to return to innocence-enigma

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things to make me go hmmmmmm
05/10/2003 06:01 a.m.
Well, in the course of our growing we have stopped SENSING. We tend to always use language even where its not needed. Besides, your problem is the fear of fear. There are definite ways of getting rid of this. We shall talk about this soon. To start with you ought to intend paradoxically.

somebody pegged me rather too well. i am very curious about what he meant by intending paradoxically.


was back in rommel cruz' library again today. one of his writings inspired me. whether that's for good or ill...time will tell. now that i wrote it and posted it, i begin to wonder if i came off sounding like a know-it-all. or worse, someone who doesn't know what they're talking about at all. sometimes i stretch my mind around topics and think they make sense, because they do to me but later find fatal flaws in my reasoning. this could be one of those times. if i did, i'm sure somebody will say so. urgh.

on a side note, ivz listened to my soundfile of split perspectives. she thinks i could be a folksinger. don't think my voice is that good. *wryly* actually, i hate the way i sound. but i like to sing anyways. only do it around work, mostly in the rooms with demented people. calms them down sometimes when they're ticked and wanting to try ripping my face off.

hubris gets in the way. i won't sing in public because i don't want to know if i suck, lol. cuz then i'd be judging myself instead of enjoying being able to do it. or i'd pick my performances to pieces critically. don't think i want it badly enough to go through the hassles involved. or maybe i'm lazy.
I am currently Jumbled
I am listening to nothing

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writing history II
05/03/2003 06:54 a.m.
*read writing history I before continuing here.

first writing after getting puter was based on an occurance in an online chat room. a medieval fantasy realm, it was love at first type. within the first few days i visited a bard showed up performing loreena mckennit lyrics. i talked to him, was looking for an occupation that would make me at least minimally useful in the land. ended up his apprentice.

one night not long later, he fell asleep at the keyboard. those of us there did some things trying to wake him up, which was rather amusing since all we had were words. i wrote it into an epic poem...which i unfortunately haven't finished yet but which impressed him with its humor despite that.

around the same time, i had started work on a more personal poem. i showed it to one of the people there i had adopted as a sibling, she asked me to do one for her virtual wedding. she was marrying the bard i had apprenticed to. i took their online names, the first verse or two of that personal poem and turned it into my first performance. they both loved it. or at least they said they did, LOL.

so i started writing poems. occasionally visited the poetry cafe there and performed, although i wasn't a regular. i met one person at the cafe who i got to be close friends with and another through a mutual friend, both wrote poetry and we shared with each other. one of them is the reason i'm at pathetic now.


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writing history I
05/03/2003 06:50 a.m.
prompted by a thread in the general forum.

first writing, non-poetry, 3rd grade, short story, got some sort paper award that's still floating around here somewhere.

fifth grade, placed sixth and fourth at young author's contest with an abc book of professions co-authored with a friend and a fractured fairytale - blue hair.

sixth grade, wrote first poems i remember. mostly remember them because i still have them. they suck. make me wince to read. altho the limerick about newts and boots is a little humorous...all things considered. didn't get them done in time to enter young author's contest.

seventh grade, placed first with an amusing story about a raccoon. wrote quite a few haiku that mostly sucked. instead of english class, the teacher ran a writer's workshop. definately my favorite class, lol. still have everything i wrote then, most of which make me shudder but were slightly improved over what came before.

ninth grade, wrote a humorous poem summarizing the odyssey for english. homer would've not been amused, heh.

summarized the little prince in haiku in tenth grade.

eleventh, parents saw page in local paper showcasing student writings. out of amusement dad made each of us write something to see how it would compare. mine was a slightly dr. seuss-ish piece on annoying parents. had they less of a sense of humor, that could've turned out bad.

senior year, wrote an anonymous piece for the school newspaper grumping about half-days starting at ten am. would've much rather preferred going in at 7am and getting out at ten rather than going through the rigamarole that went on at our house which usually ended in us missing the bus. the story was funny and it got printed, LOL. unfortunately, it was the last issue before graduation so i never got a chance to see if they'd take anything else.

that year i took grammar and had to do a writing for each chapter. the teacher was lenient, if you did the writing and passed the test, you didn't have to do the work for that chapter. i did quite well, although i've since debauched the grammarian living within my skull.

did not write anything real until a good five years after graduating. lived at home, paid rent. had five younger siblings. up to then i had the wisdom to know that anything put on paper would've gotten me in trouble. then they got a puter. 'rents were comp illiterate enough that i didn't have to worry about them finding my stuff. wrote alot. fell in with people who wrote poetry. would share our work and offer suggestions. wrote alot more. found out how useful it was for releasing pent up emotions. needed that.

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adam...
05/03/2003 05:37 a.m.
...was my first bf. met over the internet. lived across the country from each other. been talking to him for five years, met irl for about a week and a half in summer of 2000. broke up not long after, still my best friend.

offered him a place to stay. needs to escape the place where he's living and get out on his own two feet, isn't going to happen where he's at. i have faith that if he moves out here it'll happen fairly quickly. if he don't get a job neither of us will eat.

he has talent and brains, writes the funniest stories i've ever read, and just needs a place to start. me, i need somebody to remind there's a life off the puter and that food is a good thing. this could be a positive experience.

but of course, there are complications. i have a boyfriend, jon. dunno that he'd be overly enthused about adam sharing my place. can't say that i'd blame him either. any way the cookie crumbled it would look bad. nevermind that adam and i both know from previous experience that it wouldn't work.

so why offer him my place? *shrugs* i'm too nice for my own good. i adopt people into my clan and then do what i can to help them. adam isn't the first, nor is he the last person i've offered a hand to. i'm a firm believer in what goes around comes around. *grin* and besides, when he's a famous author i can say i helped him get where he is.

he may not end up out here, he may find a place nearer to where he lives now. who knows? we'll see how it goes. if he does come out here to stay, i think i'll put him though an adoption ritual of sorts. i have four brother irl, but i wouldn't mind having another one. that would clear my conscience somewhat.
I am currently Bemused
I am listening to clock ticking faintly

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on this day, April 8, 2003, noon...
04/08/2003 04:02 p.m.
dear lord, i really don't know how i manage it, but manage it i do. courtesy of my need to see what 'this' button does, i now have two journal icons.

i'd delete one of them as it makes things rather redundant, unfortunately it won't allow me to delete either of them. go me.

i swear, i have a positive knack for finding out what not to do - the hard way.

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