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Oh yes, I'd better pass this along... [19 Aug 2008|11:06am] SELECTIONS FROM H.P. LOVECRAFT'S BRIEF TENURE AS A WHITMAN'S SAMPLER COPYWRITER. 2 comments|post comment

[17 Aug 2008|09:07pm] Ha ha ha, we were there yesterday. Rebecca sat on the rock the gentleman in the photograph is on and sipped from a flask, I sat on one barely visible to the right of the one in the front of the photograph and ate a couple of strawberries and cherry tomatoes. Noah and Darryl (sp?) clambered about on the farthest rock out and then wandered out of the frame and back up the other side. Only minor scrapes were sustained. Wolf Rock was substantially more epic, and had deep and scary crevices. And we watched the sun go down over the Blue Ridge mountains, all peaceful on a large flat rock in the woods at night. Then we changed clothes in the parking lot and drove out to Donna's book release party, where I had an accident with some Jack Daniels involving rather more ending up in my glass than I intended. Ahem. Now I have a plastic tiara and am not quite sure why, and a photograph exists of me with an alien toy poking erectionlike out from under my skirt. Not to say that these things wouldn't have happened even had I been stone cold sober, but I might have a slightly better idea as to the provenance of the tiara. Life is full of mysteries. I think of posting at various times. I believe I am going to try to do a bit more of it, because difficult as the prospect may seem, it's probably best if I try to live in the world a little bit more. So, hello, all. I went hiking on Saturday. This follows last Saturday's less epic excursion, in which I fell into the Patapsco river, which was amusing and provided some still-admirable bruises. Could have blogged. Didn't. Guess I have now. How are you? 3 comments|post comment

... [15 Aug 2008|05:00pm] [ mood | Amused again ] [ music | *eyeroll* ] This is a special day in Hampden. I just witnessed a man not quite getting arrested for indecent exposure in my alley. Well, the arrest was in my alley. The exposure proper (if such a term can be applied) was a couple of blocks away. I was out weeding the, um, garden, I suppose when someone walked down the alley. And someone else walked down the alley after him, shouting. That Someone Else was a police officer. So I kept weeding. The guy was obviously intoxicated, which he did not trouble to deny. Apparently he still had to go to court for shooting fireworks at a homeless person (?), and he had gotten out of jail the week before. It was unbelievably farcical-- the police (there were three, I think, at the end) kept asking him the same questions, over and over, with the result that I now know that the dude, whose first name is Stanley, lives at 800 Wellington, though the arrest papers in his pocket said he lived in Essex. He lives with his parents. He was born over on Chestnut Street, or else the exposure is said to have occurred there. Eventually I was giggling too hard to parse everything. Naturally, in the middle of all this Ruthie wandered out and started lecturing me about the rats. And speculating that one had to pinch the heads off black-eyed susans to get them to come back next year. The police told us to call them if the guy came back. He won't. At least not just yet. And when he does it will more likely be to buy more beer from Royal Farms than to flash us. Just guessing. (I don't care if he pees in the alley, personally. And I will commend him if he pees in Ruthie's yard.) Do recall that this is John Waters's old neighborhood. Yeah. 1 comment|post comment

Wait... WHAT? [15 Aug 2008|01:06pm] [ mood | amused ] [ music | ??? ] Hampden is a strange place. Noah and I have a neighbor. We haven't really had any idea what to make of him since we moved in. During our first conversation he gave us quite a detailed history of his mental disorders, the hospitals he'd been in before and the doctors he went to now, and the drugs he was on. He did all this with very little encouragement on our parts, as we were just standing frozen in the torrent of his slightly autistic babble. He finished his resume and went on to Royal Farms, where he informed us that he buys his bread. Every time he walks by he says hello to us, and we say hello back, and he seems perfectly nice, but the particular way in which he experiences the world is a bit of a mystery to me. Just now I was sitting on my back step smoking a cigarette. He walked up the alley, said, as usual, "Hi, Vivian." I, as usual, smiled and said "hello." This is the extent of most of our interactions. But this time he paused. Weird Neighbor: Did you dye your hair purple? Vivian: Oh, it's been that way. I did recently re-dye it, though. WN: Is that European? Is it a European style? V: I don't think so. WN: Is that pop music? V: I don't know, I've been dyeing my hair for more than ten years. WN: Is that nouveau-riche? Is it yuppie? Are you a yuppie? V: (laughs) No. I'm not a professional. I can't be a yuppie. WN: Okay. I like that style! And off he went to Royal Farms. Like I said, seems like a nice enough guy, but his experience of the world and mine are clearly very, very different. YUPPIE? ... ??? (Is it excessive that when he said "nouveau-riche" I briefly assumed he'd heard of La Riche, which used to be associated with Manic Panic and worked marginally better?) Hmmmmmmmmmmmmm. I feel kind of bad for the "professional" remark, because it must have struck him as a total non-sequitur. Pretty sure he didn't know what yuppie actually meant. Okay, gonna go try to retrieve my brain from the puddle of wtf it is currently lying in. 7 comments|post comment

[30 Jul 2008|06:04am] Vanished because trying to get silver things done. Deadline 1 was Monday, Deadline 2 is tomorrow. I do not promise I will reappear afterward, though. There will always be more deadlines... Sigh. 1 comment|post comment

[25 Jul 2008|01:21pm] [ mood | Guess ] GOD I HATE INVASIVE NEIGHBORS. Especially passive-aggressive, judgmental ones who cannot fathom basic logic, have a staggering sense of entitlement, and don't get that the same things which are important to them might just not be the biggest things on everyone's mind, and might not even make sense. I am very. VERY. Angry right now. And tired of not being able to go into my backyard without knowing that a rant about the rats or the price of gas awaits me. I'm considering getting a can of gasoline and going out there and just setting the whole yard on fire and then sowing it with salt so that I can no longer be lectured about weeds. Always the NEIGHBORS' weeds, of course, because oh no this isn't an attempt to impart Moral Lessons to ME, not at ALL. But everyone ELSE who, say, doesn't trim back their rosebushes (IT WAS LIKE THIS WHEN WE GOT HERE), they are certainly "livin' like pigs. I'm sorry, but it's true." I could spit. I could hiss. I could glare very fiercely. But it is best if I do none of these things. It really is. I do not want any neighbors. Neighbors are another of the many, many reasons I do not like cities. But I don't really have any control over where I get to live. And invasive or no, at least my neighbors are not the shooting kind. God I hate my species. I say the rats should just take over. At least they're fucking honest. And since they don't speak English, I wouldn't have to listen to THEM bitch about how there are going to be riots because They raised the price of milk. (Yes. Milk.) I'm considering going out and methodically cutting down allllllll the plants we have back there. But since I like the plants more than I hate the neighbor, I won't. There is too much rage to fit in this little text box, and she Spoke To Me something like two hours ago now. Heavens, I am REALLY pissed. 4 comments|post comment

[23 Jul 2008|07:11pm] [ mood | Awed ] [ music | The sound of delicious sugary WIN ] GUYS http://cakewrecks.blogspot.com/2008/06/ill-take-my-chances.html If anyone loves me enough to buy me a cake some day, take this as inspiration. YES. 4 comments|post comment

[17 Jul 2008|06:20pm] So I walk over to Royal Farms, our local convenience store, to feed my debilitating diet soda addiction. While I'm there, I decide to pick up a Snickers bar, to feed my chocolate addiction. Walking up to the counter with my inspiring selections, I see something new. Apparently it is now necessary for the world to contain energy candy bars. That's right, Snickers bars with b-vitamins, caffeine, and taurine. And the radio starts playing "Ain't That America." And I look at the Energy Snickers display in front of me, and I look at my purchases, and I begin to giggle. Yes. Yes it is. If you're all very unlucky I will post something more substantial later. I am in what I hope are the end stages of battling some low-grade plague into submission, and I have The Stupids. But for now, ( picture post. ) And now I reveal to the world something I myself have not even seen full-size yet. We were in the cemetery, and some dude took photos of the inside of a vault for us. It was broken open, and he stood on some rocks and pushed our cameras in. So here it is, the inside of a vault in the oldest cemetery in New Orleans. Wonder if anything spooooooooky is gonna show up? Huh. I hadn't realized they whitewashed the insides, too. That's all ya get. Thanks to fucking photobucket, it already took me a damned hour. Having recovered from that first night by now, I think I may need a beer. So I leave you with this: it is a very strange thing to go through one's days knowing that some time down the road, one is going to have something to do with Morocco. Not because one has any particular desire to do so, or any real opinion of Morocco whatsoever. It's just something I know. Same kind of foreshadowing as moving to Maryland. I still don't really believe it, because what am I to Morocco or it to me, but I do know it. We shall see. I told you I had The Stupids. 13 comments|post comment

[12 Jul 2008|10:16pm] Home. 10 comments|post comment

[11 Jul 2008|12:23pm] 1) Stoli is the Jack Daniels of Vodka. I had to ask several people to obtain this information, but this is the consensus we reached. Upon testing, I believe I agree. 2) What the hell is this, we're leaving already??! V out. Noah is in no shape to help with the packing on this fine Friday morning in the Vieux Carre. 2 comments|post comment

[09 Jul 2008|05:55am] HEY LOOK AT ME IM ON THE INTERNETS I spent all the cash I had on me on dinner. Then I waded into the Mississippi River and got yelled at by a man in a golf cart about poisonous snakes. Then I drank blue absinthe and gave away a necklace I REALLY DID NOT WANT TO GET RID OF that I made in about 1999. Then Noah and I went swimming, me in all my clothes and him, well, not in any of his. Now he looks for food. I. Really. Like. This town. Thank you that is all. Unless of course anyone has any idea how we can cumulatively make at least $70,000 here. I like this town. 3 comments|post comment

Made it [08 Jul 2008|01:12pm] [ mood | Until Later ] Here we are, in New Orleans. Now, if you'll excuse me, I am going to LAY DOWN. I am glad Donna seems to like driving... 6 comments|post comment

[07 Jul 2008|10:25am] [ mood | Vzzzzzzzzzzt ] [ music | We Shall See... ] ...And now we pack. Tee minus 3 1/2 hours. And I finally got THAT done. post comment

*eyeroll* [05 Jul 2008|04:59pm] [ mood | thirsty ] [ music | I would like some soda. ] It was Post-Apocalyptic Night, and as everyone knows fabric is scarce after the apocalypse. So no, I wasn't wearing all that much. And of course big stompy boots were a part of the ensemble, because THAT sort of thing is sufficiently necessary after the apocalypse that one has to go out of one's way to obtain it, despite the lack of covering garments. Still and all, I was not expecting my neighbor to ask me this morning if the club I told her I worked at on Friday nights was "a Special Club". Because while I may have a special place in my heart for it, THAT aspect of Orpheus was shut down some time ago thankyouverymuch, and no, Ruthie, it is very much a nice normal garden-variety goth club. Um. She did not seem either to disapprove or approve especially strongly of the idea of myself and young Mr. Hofmann-Smith going to a 'Special Club', though. Strange. Maybe it's the fake blood I still have on my cheek? Nah, who am I kidding, it was the lack of clothing. Which you are all used to, but nosy middle-aged Hampdenite neighbors, not so much. Leather and chains, yes, but srsly, it is all for aesthetics (at least outside the house). However, I did get a reminder that the young gentlemen seem to like it when I wear small amounts of clothing. Well, several reminders. Noah was not thrilled about the Mexican boy who tried to kiss me. At least I avoided the fate of Kele-De, who was assaulted by extremely inebriated and enthusiastic teenage girls while we were out smoking cigarettes. Though I was rather thrilled when a group of fellows walked by and one of them actually said to me, "Hey, kittycat!" Aaaaaaaaw. The 4th of July on the Baltimore streets is kinda fun, actually. New Orleans on Monday. Much to do before that. Clean the house, figure out who will take care of my cats oh dear god, pack... stuff. (And actually it's New Orleans on Tuesday, but we leave on Monday around noon.) Now that I can breathe, I begin to look forward to all this. Yes. 12 comments|post comment

Ghk [03 Jul 2008|02:47pm] [ mood | busy busy busy busy busy busy ] [ music | FUCKING FIREWATER in my head, AGAIN! ] Busy busy cat. Vending tomorrow at Ascension, and though nothing ever sells at clubs, I took it upon myself to increase stock Just In Case. Have to go set stones and bend tentacles now. Just wanted to say hello to Internets. I have been watching you, though I speak little. Know why I speak little? Because I am currently doing things like staying up until 4 AM working in the basement after working in the Fabric Lab in the morning/afternoon, and still getting up at 8 to cook Noah breakfast and make him lunch before he goes to work. (I do this because of how loved it used to make me feel when he would pack me a lunch or make me coffee and toast when I was back at the Cholera Mines. Today I took a nap after he left, though.) Scattered! So, must collect bits of self and drag them to the basement, where silver pieces await. I am again having the problem where everything I make looks like a third grader's clay mash from art class to me. I know it's all the same as usual, and I am sure it doesn't look like that. So I persevere. Because even if it is clay mash, it's clay mash made of precious materials, and everything is better with garnet! Tentacle Tiem. And coffee. Lots and lots of coffee. So everyone come to Ascension with money tomorrow. And yes, that includes those of you in the midwest and on the west coast. I've been missing you bastards anyway. You lot are exempt from buying things, but you still have to come. And everyone from Maryland has to buy things, to offset the price of gas or plane tickets. I Have Spoken. Damn, I CLEARLY need to leave the house and see some PEOPLE soon. I am degenerating into slippery madness. But well, hey, when The Stars Are Right... ETA: re: Staying up until 4 AM et cetera et cetera: AND I LOVE IT. I have not had an excuse to neglect my human and quasi-wifely duties and just burn hard on WORK for WAAAAAAAAAY too long, and I miss it like fire sometimes, exhausting though it is. But I admit that I am reeeeeally gonna be able to use the New Orleans Vacation next week... 4 comments|post comment

Public Service Announcement [24 Jun 2008|11:40am] [ music | Guess. ] Just in case anyone who was an SF-reading, socially awkward geek in late elementary, middle, and/or high school has managed to avoid this so far, I suggest strongly that you go and listen to "The Future Soon" by Jonathan Coulton RIGHT NOW. Right here. Now. Srsly. I was singing it to myself while cooking breakfast yesterday and reflecting on the various psychological truths of the lyrics as regards kids with poor social skills who spend most of their lives in a fantasy world dealing with their first significant crushes. But I have already expostulated on the subject to Noah, so I shan't do it here. Man, I love Jonathan Coulton. As you were. Well, as you were except that you are now listening to Jonathan Coulton. 2 comments|post comment

[18 Jun 2008|10:00am] [ music | The Sound of Eyes A-Rollin' ] ( Believe In Yourself. ) 7 comments|post comment

[16 Jun 2008|10:21am] I continue to exist. ( Here is photographic evidence to support this assertion. ) 9 comments|post comment

[15 Jun 2008|09:18pm] [ mood | Repulsed ] [ music | GOD I hope I'm from some other species and was accidentally switched at birth ] Am I the only person who has ever tried (and failed) to watch "Liquid Sky" who was EVEN REMOTELY DISTURBED BY ALL THE FUCKING RAPE??! I have spent all afternoon trying to recover from the feeling that The World Is A Bad Place And Good And Innocence Are Not Wanted Here And I Should Probably Kill Myself If I Ever Come Out From Under The Bed Again, and somehow this shit is "darkly funny and original"? I think I was right about the living under the bed part. FUCK my species. I secede. 7 comments|post comment

[15 Jun 2008|02:05pm] [ mood | WHAT the FUCK??! ] This is clearly the end of the world. Unless someone has a sense of humor extremely close to mine and has built a product specifically for this purpose or learned to perform very convincing bird-calls, that is. I suppose I oughtn't say that this is the end of the world precisely, but it's definitely a turn for the surreal. I just heard a bird, or what I assume was a bird, performing an alarmingly accurate rendition of That Car Alarm Which Changes All The Time. You know the one-- you all know it. I first memorized it in San Francisco in the summer of 1997, when someone's car sang it for a while every morning before being shut off. Alas, I have no appropriate notation for it, but. That one. A bird. A BIRD WAS SINGING THAT. I listened for some time to make sure. I mean, does it wish to mate with cars? What the fuck? No one burst into laughter, no one congratulated a friend on his convincing birdcalls. I am pretty sure that just actually happened. Are we, as a species, certain we wish to be responsible for this sort of thing? ???! 8 comments|post comment

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