Wednesday, February 28, 2007

Stay away from my mom!

So, look. I did the whole resume thing. It was overly traumatic and probably turned out horribly. But. Regardless of whether I get hired at this job or not (cross your fingers), it's good to know that there are people who have faith in me when I don't have faith in myself, which is often. So, yea. Thanks to Joe, Michal, Matt, Crish, Carlos and Bobby...Nick, James...Ed... anyway. It means a lot to me to have friends like you guys. And I just want to say that my stint at Gamestop, whether it comes to an end soon or not, has been worthwhile and enjoyable only because of my coworkers. You guys are fantastic, and I truly love our team, and I'll miss you all when you leave. Mass exodus starts with Matt in a little over a week...we'll see how it progresses.

As weird as it is, since the very idea of going into the unknown terrifies me, it also thrills me to no end. I'm leaving this job, this year, no question. Maybe I'll end up somewhere obvious, maybe I won't. But 3, almost 4, years is WAY too long for me to be in one place in life. It has to change!

So, all in all, I call this chapter of life that is drawing to a close...I call it a win. I met some great people, held a steady job, and made some friends who genuinely care. Teh winnar is meh.

Quickie

Real fast before I go to bed:

Dream from last night:
I'm in the middle east, sort of, which I know nothing about, so this dream was totally misplaced. But anyway, i'm part of an underground plan to take over a neighboring country that is presently being ruled by an evil dictator. But, my home base is in Armenia (dunno where that is, but the dream had it near Turkey). More importantly, it's in the Armenian version of a Chik-fil-a. And the locals dunno it's the base for my awesome plan, so they keep trying to get actual food from me, which is making me angry. And I'm gathering soldiers there and keeping them in the basement or something. But the How of me gathering soldiers, is that I apparently can open a time-space continuum teleportation rip in the universe Thing, between the Armenian base and my hometown. But I can only do it if I'm in the throes of some emotion; really angry, really sad, really aroused... And at one point this guy is like "well that kinda sucks. what if you're not upset or something?" And I just laughed at him and told him that if anyone was qualified for this power, it was definitely me. And there we go.

Sunday, February 25, 2007

Insomnia

I've been asked to write a resume and submit it to a company. It's an exercise in futility, since they wouldn't hire me anyway. I have exactly 0 things to offer anyone. Still, the very idea is keeping me awake at night. All I can think of is how worthless I am, and how anything I put down would be a lie. Knowing me, this will continue until it's too late, and I will have sabotaged any possibility I had at escaping my current position. This is just fundamentally something I cannot do. I can't praise myself. It's not built in. I can't reccommend myself. There's always that part of me that's saying "look, I'll be honest. There's thousands of people better qualified than me." Logically, I'm sure there's something I'm good at. But all I can see is that I suck at everything. This just circles around in my mind until I want to gouge my eyes out, or something. Welcome to the real world, Sarah. welcome to something you can't handle.

Friday, February 23, 2007

Eyes

So, the poem I posted earlier got a semi-positive response. This has spurred me into posting some of my personal favorites from lifetimes ago. (To all would-be-thiefs: steal one of my poems, and I'll send Vladamir Lorch and his electric whip of doom after you. so just don't bother. you don't wanna see Vlad in action).


.........................................................................

When the sun shines through me now
(with dazzling spears of gold)
There's nothing I can't see,
And on the stream of memory
(of the not-yet and the o-so-old)
My ship sails to the seas.

When the sun shines through me now
(with dazzling spears of gold)
There's nothing that you see,
Where I was is empty now
(an omnipresent hole)
And nothing becomes me.

.............

O when the moon glows in the black
(and turns her face to sea)
I see a path of light,
And when I steer my ship that way
(my vessel and me)
We find only silky night.

When the moon glows in the black
(and turns her face to sea)
You see a path of light,
Where only dreams and waves sail
(for you cannot see me)
Into the darkest night.


If it sounds weird, just read it without the ( ) parts.

Thursday, February 22, 2007

Badassitude, rediscovered

"Badassitude" is the word of the week. If you can't figure out what it means, it obviously doesn't apply to you.

I'm going to try something new. Adding a little extra to my posts, a dream section. We'll see how long it lasts.

Dream: Last night, I dreamed about a rampaging axe murderer. I was running away from him, trying to stop him while not being killed. I failed, and he was coming at me with his axe, and i knew in that dream way that I was going to die. I steeled myself to die...and all of a sudden, previously unplanned and unbeknownst to me, I lunge at him, disarm him, slam the axe into his groin, spin and yank it out, then slam it into his throat. Then I'm left standing in a pool of blood with his axe, totally shocked. Then I wake up.

Wednesday, February 21, 2007

Vladamir Lorch and the Scorpion Prince

The day is dying. A faded sun sinks slowly below the horizon, bathing the wasted land with meager rays of rusty light. It is that silent time after the day walkers have crawled into their homes, and before the night creatures have begun to prowl. A subdued wind blows half-heartedly from the west, pushing tumbleweeds idly across the parched earth. A more persistent gust tosses a tangle of weeds up against the only building visible for miles, a long and squat mongrel of plaster, wood, and aluminum siding. A slightly crooked wooden door hangs on ancient hinges, slightly off-center and topped by a fading hand painted sign. The once-jaunty letters spell out "Hellion's Haven" underneath the patina of dust and age. Yellow light squeezes through the cracks in the wooden door, gasping in relief in the more natural light (or lack thereof) of twilight.

The tavern, if such an uncivilized and ill-conceived business could be named such, is unnaturally quiet for it's ilk. There's a pall on the place, as if all the unhappiness and troubled times from the surrounding lands have converged there; pulled up stools like weary travellers, too tired to be troubled to do more than eat and drink in heavy silence. There are no windows, only a crooked chimney and some holes beneath the eaves to let the smoke out and the air in. Suddenly, somewhere, a clock chimes the hour. The sun finally slips below the horizon with an almost audible sigh of relief. The light of day flees in fear before the coming dark.

The door flies open, banging against the wall with a muted thud, pouring sickly light into the night in a thick beam. The flood of light dims, and a figure is silhouetted in the crooked frame. A moment, and the man (for it is a man) steps into the night, letting the door creak closed. A small and lonely lightbulb flickers on above the sign. Every few seconds it sputters off and on again. In the weak light, the man gains definition.

He is tall and thin, with wide bony shoulders, and powerful long legs. His face is shadowed by a well-worn cowboy hat, but a pointed black goatee and a generous nose of hawk-like profile can be made out beneath its brim. The man shrugs into a threadbare trenchcoat, shoving his callused hands into deep pockets to check the contents. He pulls each item into the dim light for a second, and then replaces it; a wilted leather purse, a vial of glowing liquid, a wicked looking dart gun, a packet of dried meat. He touches his belt for reassurance as well, removing everything once and putting it back into its straps and holsters; two full canteens, a gigantic pistol, 6 clips of ammo, an electric whip, a long-bladed hunting knife. Satisfied, he steps forward into the chill desert night. Something rattles with every stride; look closer, and a double-stranded necklace is observed, made of the spoils of battle. Great serrated teeth, thin bones of various length, what looks suspiciously like human ears, and at the bottom, the greatest prize of all: a scorpion stinger the length of a big man's finger. For this is no ordinary bounty hunter; this is Vladamir Lorch, who wears around his neck the last legacy of the great tyrant, the Scorpion Prince. Vladamir Lorch, who defeated the legions of Scorpion minions with only his pistol, his whip, and his incredible store of badassitude.

Vladamir Lorch strides fearlessly into the darkness. The idle breeze whispers in the scrub, spreading tales of his prowess far across the barren lands.

Tuesday, February 20, 2007

20 lives to save 200....

Those are odds I can live with!

Anyway...

I'm bored with the way my life is. This is no secret, because I complain about it often. But I don't know how to change it. It's like the very ability is outside the realm of my understanding. But, regardless of how much my life bores me, I've got this time, so I figure I should do something with it. Which brings me to today's post. Stuff isn't falling in my lap anymore, so, I'm going to start doing everything I've always wanted to do before I die, just to fill the empty time. So I'm going to make a list, and post it here, because I damn well want to.

Things I want to do before I die:

-Write, and get published, at least one book.

-Tour the cathedrals in Europe. Any cathedrals will do. So long as I get to see Gaudi's stuff in Spain.

-Go to New York; visit the art museums, see some broadway plays, and go into Macy's.

-There's some city in New England that has a festival where they light the river on fire. So, go experience that. First, find out what city that is.

-Go to Montanna and drive the "Going to the Sun" road in Glacier National Park.

-Fill a vial with glacial run-off in Canada's Glacier Provincial Park. Keep the vial in my room.

-Make a prayer out of trees, flowers, or bushes, and watch it grow.

-Get married in Las Vegas.

-Get married a second time (to the same person, optimally) on a cliff in the caribbean, and have the reception on the beach. Wear a bikini under my wedding dress so I'm ready for swimming. Also, make all the drinks into holy versions of their former selves.

-Visit Ayer's Rock in Australia.

-Go shopping in a typical Asian city. Buy the most bizarre clothing and crap I can find, and wear it frequently in the US.

-Translate my poems into another language, while keeping the cadence the same.

-Start a food fight in a crowded restaraunt. Get tossed out, but not arrested.

-See the aztec (or mayan?) temples in south america

-Visit stonehenge.

-Tell my brother that I love him, no matter how much of a delinquent he was or is.

-Ambush my coworkers with waterguns.

-Have a baby. Or two.

-Raise aforementioned child(ren). Love them with all my heart. Teach them to give daps.

-Do a Zoo Tour of America. Make a definitive decision as to which zoo kicks more ass.

-Learn to take compliments!

-Bake a wedding cake.

-Make a wedding dress.

-Stick it to "The Man"

-Die with as little regrets as possible

-Be proposed to. Seriously. By someone who isn't a total douche. And wants to get married.

-Drive through Death Valley

-Explore Utah and New Mexico via car.

-Kayak in the Everglades.

-Dance on a table

-Have sex on a beach

-Have a water balloon fight in the street


That's all I can think of for now. But that's a lot. Enough to keep me busy for a while, at least. Anyone who wants to join me is always welcome.

Thursday, February 15, 2007

Thursdays

Thursday, when the earth was frozen
And the ground crunched 'neath my feet,
Wind berated me for walking
Down this cold and barren street.

'Tis these mornings, bright and arctic,
When the shadows reach towards west,
That I truly feel your absence,
And I learn to love you best.

Thursday, when the sun was shining
In deceptive winter skies,
My blood ached for truer weather
Not this season full of lies.

'Tis these mornings, bright and empty,
That find me sad and lonely,
When I truly feel your absence,
And I yearn to love you only.

Wednesday, February 14, 2007

Bionic Holiday

So, consensus says...Valentine's Day is a stupid holiday. So I've taken my superior qualifications in holiday-revamping, and made it better! faster! stronger!

I give you...International Chocolate Day!

Pure genius, eh? A celebration of chocolate and how freakin' sweet it is. No need for phony cutesy imitation-hallmark cards, or even a significant other! Just a chocolate feast, and a day to devour it in. I think everyone will agree that this is the best holiday they've ever heard of. Chocolate = Awesome.

In observance, I've spent the morning concocting a chocolate recipe to end all chocolate recipes. It's amazing, and I could spend all day licking chocolate out of pans and off my fingers.

Now, for the summer, I'm thinking we should change the 4th of July to National Jello Wrestling Day.

Friday, February 9, 2007

The Apex

My bedroom sits at the apex of Destiny and Music from 2002.

This is a powerful claim, but lo! Behold my evidence! Every Friday morning, at 8:15 AM, my bedroom is inexplicably filled with the sound of the Gorillaz, Cake, and other bands I listened to in highschool. Where does it come from? Not from my computer, phone, Zune, or any other music device in my house. I have no neighbors that border my bedroom. The only answer: it comes from the very AIR around my bed. And before you swear I've finally gone insane, Ed hears it too! What mysteries lie within my bedroom? What ancient truths is destiny trying to convey to me, through music??? And why, why of all the bedrooms, why was MINE chosen?

Tune in for more Music from 2002, same bat time, same bat channel.

Thursday, February 8, 2007

Flying Solo

I worked with Shaun today. At one point, he's walking around the store with his arms held out at his sides, making a low-pitched "vrooming" noise.

Me: Shaun, what are you doing?
Shaun: Flying.
Me: Can I fly with you?
Shaun: No way.
Me: Why not? Come on, it'd be fun.
Shaun: I fly solo. I'm my own copilot.

And there you have it.

Wednesday, February 7, 2007

I've had worse weeks, but not by much.


It's true. This week categorically sucks. Per the usual, I've got nobody to talk to about it, so like a fool I'm gonna write about it on my blog, of all damn places. Suffice it to say, I could do with my Prince/ss Charming arriving any minute, and whisking me away into a life that isn't nearly so shitty. I feel like I've given a lot, and received very little. And I guess I'm just a selfish bitch, but dammit, something in exchange would be nice. When I was younger, I'd wash the dishes, and Mom would come home and yell at me for not vacuuming the floor. I'd say "but i washed the dishes!" and she'd say "and what, you expect a medal for it or something?" Well no, but I at least expected not to get yelled at about the fact that I didn't do something else. I do a lot for people. I really do, or I try to. But then I get yelled at for not doing something else! Like everything I did earlier was pointless, or worse, not good enough. Why should I bother then, why do anything at all? And because I'm a glutton for punishment, it always comes back to this: I feel like it's the right thing to do, and I like doing stuff for people! I like caring. I just wish it was reciprocal.
Good things happen to good people. That's fantastic. The world should always work that way, and since it doesn't, it's even more fantastic when it happens. But hell, maybe this makes me a bad person, but sometimes I have to tell myself not to be bitter. I don't begrudge the good people their good things. But I'd like good things too, sometimes. Of course, since I'm a bad person for feeling bitter, I guess I don't deserve good things. Vicious cycle.
I asked a friend if he would make different decisions if he started life over again. He said he would. I don't know if I would or not. There's a few things I can think of, but, overall it all played out how it was meant to play out. Even starting over, I'd still be me. The person I am makes bad decisions.
How can I want things I've never had? Maybe I read too much. Plus, I was raised on Disney movies. That's probably a huge cause there. Although, I really like the Disney movies, and maybe that's a problem too. I am quite fond of the idea of "true love", and happy endings, and inner beauty. That seems like a good way for things to be. I'm a hopeless, incorrigible, something. I don't know what, but something. Whiny, stupid bitch, maybe.
Ed thinks because I'm depressed it means I begrudge other people what they have. That's not true. I'm glad that Shaun and his wife love each other so much, and that they're having a second kid. I'm also sad I don't have the same thing. I'm not saying I want to take it from them, I just wish I could be in that sort of life too. What the hell is wrong with me that I can't be happy with what I have.
I think the problem with no longer being suicidal is that I don't have a way out anymore. Yes, I could die, but am I going to? No. And because of that, I'm trapped here, no matter how bad it gets. And chances are, if it does get good, I'll die then, because fate has it out for me. Sometimes I think I should have just done it earlier, then I wouldn't be here now feeling like shit.
Maybe it's time for me to turn into a zombie again and start taking antidepressants, again. I hate those fucking things, but maybe it would be a nice break.
"Life is pain, Highness. Anyone who says otherwise is selling something."

Sunday, February 4, 2007

Sotto Voce

That's my new Term of the Week. It's one of those modern phrases that derives from a foreign language, directly, so makes you sound super smart when you use it. Bonus! (Italian, meaning "under the voice") The english definition is "in a low, soft voice so as not to be overheard". This is a useful term, peoples!

I don't really have much of import to say. My mom's birthday is tomorrow, and so I get to make a cake. Yey. This past week Matthew, aka the Devil, introduced me to a game called Viva Pinata, which has consumed my soul. I seriously can do nothing but play and obsess over Pinatas. It's a disease, and there is NO CURE, except to get the next pinata on the list and make it reproduce. Excelllllent.

Any game where I can play Creator and produce monstrosities such as Four-headed snakes = totally awesome.

So I, along with others of the Group, saw Pan's Labyrinth tonight. Yup, it's super bowl sunday, and I don't give a shit, and gladly neither do most of my friends. Praise everything that I'm not forced to watch *shudder* sports. Anyway, I saw Pan's Labyrinth on my vacation, so this was the second viewing for me. It really is a fantastic movie, but just in case you don't know what it's like, there are two warnings: 1) It's in spanish with subtitles, and 2) It's very gory and violent at times, NOT a children's movie. But, it's really excellent. I'm a lover of stories, and always have been. Stories are like chocolate for me; delicious and sustaining. There are good stories, and bad stories, and there are also, rarely, True Stories. Pan's Labyrinth is a True Story. Not as in it really happened, but in the fact that it represents life as it really truly is, and not how it should be or how Disney fairy tales represent it. Good people die, and bad people live on, and the little ripples that each person makes in life expand and expand, and can wreak great havoc. It's a beautiful story, and a true one, which makes it all the more beautiful.

This somehow reminded me of one of modern fiction's most excellent books, Wicked by Gregory Maguire. It takes a well-known villain, the Wicked Witch from the wizard of oz, and gives her a life story. It begs the questions "what is wicked? what is evil?" In the end, we're all people. I think sometimes we lose sight of that, that there's a common thread of humanity that runs within us all.

I'm getting all crazy introspective again. It's starting to seem like I'm always this way. I think it's the cold weather...soon as it gets warm again, I'll be too busy absorbing the sun and the heat to think about anything else. How I long for summer...