Essay question: What did I do on my birthday?
Mood:  special
Topic: It's all about me
Chatted on IRC. Told everyone in the #bearcave that it was my birthday. Received a generally mild response.

Looked at porn, but was not particularly moved by it.

Did a little work on a gaming project that should be occupying my time for a month or so. But it gave me a headache so I decided to be lazy and put it off til later. Printed up a bunch of the stuff for it so it would be easier to work with than a pdf.

Played with our mass of kitties until sunrise, then booted the 4 big ones outside.

Said good morning/goodbye to the hubby on his way out to work.

Put drops in my ear. Fell asleep with the little bottle in my hand. Woke up later and looked for it, but couldn't find it so I went back to sleep. Woke up a little bit later because I was laying on it, so I put drops in the other ear and waited for about 20 minutes before letting the stuff drip out so I could go back to sleep.

Woke up sometime around 3 and had breakfast. Went out to feed the 2 penned up calves because I had forgot to the day before. Discovered that the sickly one had died in the barn, which we knew was going to happen anyway. Fed the other one.

Continued my daily routine - moved the water to the next tree and got the mail. Waved hello to our neighbor as he drove by.

Fed the little caged kitties in the house and petted Rocky, trying to get that little bastard to bond.

Basically bummed around the house watching TV because it was too hot and sticky to even want to think about doing anything. When the hubby got home I was introduced to yet another new kitty rescue. Named this one Jet - it's still pretty wary of me.

Since the hubby brought me ice cream (Caramel Turtle Fudge - Blue Bell, of course) the day improved quite a bit. Put it in the freezer to get solid again. Also got a 6-pack of peanut butter cups and some gum - promptly ate one pack of the cups.

Got a call from the hubby's office girlfriend. She had managed to catch the 4th of the litter that she'd been sending over and wanted to know if she could bring it by. I said yes, and now we have 9 kitties total.

Finally remembered to tell the hubby that the calf died, so he had to go out and put a chain on its legs to drag it out of the barn. I was busy feeding the latest kitty (as yet unnamed) from the bottle to get it perked up a bit. When I was done with that I went out to help and saw our neighbor lending a hand. Helped them get the calf dragged out, then got to getting the pens situated while the hubby dragged the calf out in the field to let nature take its course. It got stormy and rained a bit.

Got out the sprayer and sprayed some weeds that were getting out of control.

Decided that I didn't have to be health conscious on my birthday and had a big bowl of cheese dip with tortilla chips for dinner. Followed this up with a bowl of ice cream. MMMmmmmm...

Hubby and I played with the kitties for a while, but he had to take over when the phone calls came in. Talked to the fam and did the birthday thing with them.

Put the hubby to bed. 'Nuff said.

Put the big 4 kitties back outside so they can acclimate to living outside at night. Petted on the tiny 4 a little bit, but the 3 new ones are still leery of me.

Got online and cleared out the spam box before going on IRC again.

Now is that exciting of what?

Bake a fucking cake
Mood:  d'oh
Topic: It's all about me
I'm 32 now. There is no ice cream or cake in the house. Something is dreadfully wrong.

Hey! You! Make with the singing!

retrointrospection
Mood:  not sure
Topic: It's all about me
I'm getting weary of the lame caricature that my memory likes to make of me in those wee hours when my brain doesn't want to cooperate and let me sleep. I see little encapsulated moments from my past played out again and again - stupid resentments that I know I should let go of, and I do tell myself to, but I wake up the next morning and trip over that baggage again. They don't just go away because I know they're in the past.

And it's silly. Sillier, in fact, that I don't want to get into specifics here. I mean really, isn't my personal blog the best place to air this sort of shit and get it out of my system so I can pat myself on the back for being a good participant in this little therapy moment? And it's not like I should worry about broadcasting personal issues out into the world. Yes, putting it up on the blog is technically a global broadcast, but it's not like more than a handful of people will ever wander close enough to catch it. Maybe that's what keeps me from going to that particular place, the fact that only people I feel close to are likely to read it - a bit too close for comfort.

Big surprise, I've digressed. There is a point to this post somewhere. There are these annoying little quirks I have, these moody little moments that tear me in many directions when I least expect it, and I know where so many of them come from. It makes me angry that when I was younger I would have to deal with people going out of their way to frustrate me, and when I acted on that frustration it was always "You're so oversensitive" or "You're such a little sissy" or some other bullshit. So now I've been conditioned to keep that frustration bottled up until it's uncontainable, and when it explodes out I do and say regrettable things. And history repeats itself - it looks like stupid and trivial things set me off in the moment.

I don't want to point fingers. That's a lie - I do indeed want to point fingers, sometimes one finger in specific. I want people to blame my own faults on. Who can be to blame here so that it won't be me? This is turning into a pity party, and I think somehow whatever reason I had for posting this has evaporated. I can look back on this in a few months or years and wish I never posted, or I can save myself the trouble and just not. Pretty much the same either way.

Don't read this
Mood:  surprised
Topic: It's all about me
This is the list of what I want for my birthday, in no specific order. Yes, I know this is way early. No, I don't actually expect any of this.

• A tattoo of a fairy ring around my left leg, in the vicinity of the ankle
• Can't Stop, a discontinued dice game that is quite zippy
• The house remodeled
• A computer so psychotically powerful I have to struggle with it at least once every couple months for fear that it'll take over the house and most of the country - and a nice fat broadband connection to go with it
• All the episodes of Cowboy Bebop on DVD
• A trip to someplace interesting that I've never been to before
• A Rubik's Magic Puzzle - probably a couple of them because I played with the last one so much that it fell apart
• To be really really really high with a bunch of my friends at a loud party that lasts all weekend - hot strippers optional, glow sticks required
• The Great and Secret Show and Everville
• Ice cream dammit!
• Freakazoid! and 2 Stupid Dogs back on the air when there's nothing else but crap on TV in the middle of the night
• To be able to banish anyone foolish enough to annoy me on my fucking birthday out to the cornfield

Randy
Mood:  not sure
Topic: It's all about me
My testicles are going to explode by the time I get home. There will be no visit from the hubby this year, on account of injury. Now I am glad that he's going to keep off his foot and keep it up while it heals. Gods know I don't want him any more broken than he already is. But now I've got a month left, surrounded every weekend by man candy, and little relief in sight. Oy...

I might have to get me a dart gun and find some helpless victim at Faire to aim it at. I mean, it's not like I can bring a bottle of Wild Turkey on site with me. Anybody know a good hypnotist?

You would think the fucking plane crashed...
Mood:  celebratory
Topic: It's all about me
I've been in California since Sunday afternoon and you'd think I would have at least put a single letter in this little text boxy thing. Oh but no - I forgot all about you. All 2 of you that actually hang in front of your monitor, your eyes glazed and red, salivating for want of an update. You want it... you know you want it. You crave it like a good piece of cheese.

Doing fine basically. Losing track of time once in a while, you know, but having a nice visit. I've made almost all the rounds by now. I just need to be whisked away by the Tornado and eventually set foot on Faire site. It's all chaos around here friends and neighbors. That quiet sneaky kind of chaos that hangs around the house in its underwear, scratching itself and mumbling about some kind of cheese. But it's the good cheese and you can't get it anymore.

So I suppose when I really know what's going on, or when something remarkable occurs I'll peep in and leave a message. Or you know, maybe we find the cheese. Whatever.

Isn't that a John Denver song?
Mood:  chillin'
Topic: It's all about me
I'm about halfway packed for my trip out to cali. I still have to narrow down which books I'm going to need, so I don't end up bringing my entire library like I keep trying to do every year. We're going to do last minute necessities shopping tomorrow. Then I pack everything up, including this computer, and use the remaining time to comfort the hubby on his 2 month hiatus from my amazing and and sunny persona.

Yes, there was sarcasm in there.

Get thee behind me!
Mood:  caffeinated
Topic: It's all about me
We're not going to discuss the psychotic insomniac flip that has me posting at 9 am. We'll just take that in stride.

I am not going to turn the fucking TV on. Yes, I am in a mildy bored state, but there will be no television today, dammit! As soon as my eyes fix on that lit up panorama of evil I know the brain will go to autopilot and nothing will get done. Normally this wouldn't be such a bad thing, but amazingly something has happened that I didn't expect:

My book is trying once again to get out of my head.

Sit down, don't get excited. This isn't that big a deal. I'm still stuck behind the same damn block that has had me stymied for months now - only I just managed to budge it. A little. Really, just some dust settling. But now that I've set my shoulder against the block I don't want to let up the little bit of momentum that I've managed.

Okay yes, I'm fucking around on the internet, chatting on IRC, downloading completely unnecessary Sims crap, and posting this nonsense on my blog. But I'm not watching TV.

Again
Mood:  not sure
Topic: It's all about me
I'm getting that feeling again - the vague urge to write something down. I don't like it. This particular urge is annoying because it never seems to have any actual material backing it up. Before when this would happen it would drive me apeshit because I had no outlet, but things are different now. I am currently involved in 3 active games (and 1 inactive one, but we're not going to get into that again...) which make for excellent writing exercise.

Is this going to make a difference? I don't know yet, but so far it still feels the same. I don't like the restless insomnia attacks that strike me; I don't care for the frustrating moments when my fingers rest on the keys motionless and waiting. I don't like how I feel when I look at old files growing cold, or at new ideas scribbled down writhing in their birth agonies.

I'm getting a headache now.

"Lights please..."
Mood:  special
Topic: It's all about me
This is where I step out on the stage (little blue blanket optional), the spot comes on, and I tell a little Christmas tale about the joy of giving, peace on Earth, and other warm fuzzies. Only in this case it has nothing to do with the true meaning of Christmas, and like basically everything on this little chunk of webby goodness I plan to make it all about me. Get your cocoa.

In a way, this is sort of a continuation of the bit about birthday gifts. I have weird issues about gifts - I don't know if it's an inherent genetical deal, a strange warped bit of childhood nurturing that has matured into a quiet neurosis, or some sort of Leonine deal I have yet to figure out. The 1st thing is that though I love gifts I am a bit uncomfortable receiving them. Not that you'd notice - the majority of the things I own are gifts in some way or another. If someone tells me they're going to give me something, the answer is almost inevitably 'no, don't do that.' I know a part of it has to do with my pack-rat mentality; I find it very hard to get rid of things, and something being a gift from someone makes it twice as hard. Then there is the usual unworthiness blah angsty crap that we won't get into here.

However, there are times when gifts become expected (sometimes mandatory). During those times those gifts come with a very specific indicator of the time: gift wrap. Now I know gift wrap is cute and fun, and it eventually becomes trash (usually...), but it also serves a very specific purpose, one that speaks directly to my 2nd issue with gifts - surprise. Why would you go to the trouble to make a gift difficult to identify on first sight if you expected the recipient to know what it was in the first place? I mean, if all you wanted was decoration, you could just put a big fuckin' bow on it and save a tree or two, right? Well that's the trouble here. I love surprises. (The good kind anyway, and no I don't cotton to the idea of a surprise party, so you can quit hiding behind the couch and set fire to that stupid horn thing, thankyouverymuch.) I am also very hard to surprise (especially in the good way). It doesn't help that almost everyone I know inclined to give me a gift seems to love making it as difficult as possible for me to be surprised, but I don't mind that so much. The real trouble here is - I'm really fucking picky! It's not that I turn my nose up at whatever I'm given - I love the gift no matter what, because the old saying is quite true: It's the thought that counts. The thing of it is, I like very specific things and asking me what those things are pretty much ruins the surprise factor. And I think it is the height of stupidity to take me shopping, have me pick out my gift, and then wrap the damn thing in paper and make me wait until the appropriate time to tear the paper off and thank you for it. Yes, thank you for the gift, I love ya. Save a tree.

So here we are in Christmas land, surrounded by sappy music (which has been thankfully minimal for me - I try to stick to snappy seasonal swing) and psychotic shoppers all on the quest for the perfect gift for that special someone, and a tasteful (cheap) something they can bag up for the name they drew at the office. The hubby and I were fantastically lucky to have gotten our gift gathering done just before the madness set in. Before we left the mall with the last prize in hand the inevitable question came up: "So what do you want, sweetie?" Here is issue number 3 about gifts. I love Christmas, I grew up with it and you would have to be a horribly twisted gothic child of pure damnation and sticky evil to hate a holiday where you are allowed to eat all the sugary badness you want and then you get a ton of toys you don't need (and maybe even don't deserve, you rotten little bastard). I still love that - really, please spoil me more. But despite my refusal to grow up and be all adult about it, I have a more mature attitude about the giftage nowadays. I don't get into the holy aspects of Christmas - it's not my bag. To me the joy now is decorating the house (and bitching about it), picking out a couple things just perfect for someone, visiting with family and friends, and enjoying the pure bliss of Christmas and memories of Christmas past shining in my heart. If I'm going to have to pick out my own gift I may as well wait until the after Christmas sales and get more bang for my buck - I don't want to pollute the pleasure I get out of the holiday with practical matters.

So there you go - my holiday issues all wrapped up and tied with a bow that's a little abrasive but it certainly gets the job done. The hubby is probably going to drive himself crazy trying to figure out what to get me, thinking that our love demands the perfect overpriced thing that he thinks is great and beautiful, despite my telling him that all I want is for him to be at peace and know I love him. And yes, there's one of them under the tree right now, wrapped up and pretty, with his name on it - from me.

So sue me - I'm a sappy little shit myself sometimes. May your holiday be blessed and beautiful, may your gifts touch the hearts of those you love, and maybe - just maybe one day - there will indeed be peace and love enough for us all.