we thought it was the best come back of the evening and i announced it was god's will i make an icon of it and my sister demanded credit, so there it is for you.

last night was our annual holiday party. i love our holiday party. we invite every human we know on the planet: family, friends, coworkers and everyone comes and has a lovely time. we make lots of food- last night we had, oh quite a feast, my mother mad her cheesecakes, my dad made a ham, we had shrimp dip, baguettes, cheese, crackers, mints, pound cake, fresh tomatoes... all out upon the table in the most sparkling fashion- turn on the music and light the lights and wait for guests.
this part is the one time of year i wear my diamond earrings my grandmother gave me a few years back and break out my pretty velvet shirt which does not breathe AT ALL.
i also go on supreme door watch while all my friends are mingle with each other.
i also like tending to the little kids. i just love kids.

this is me with jack the three year old.

me: what do you have there?
jack holds up his hand.
me: bouncy balls! do you want to bounce them?
jack: ok that sounds all right.
me: you can just choose anywhere you like.

later.

jack walks by with chocolate.
concerned citizen: should he be having that?
me: oh, i think he's ok.

mothers everywhere LOVE ME.

for a good portion of the evening i was giving a 7 year old and two three year olds (jack included) a tour of my house.

me: and this is my sister's room which is a mess.
eaden (3 yr old girl): this is very messy!
me: i know! you guys can all go tell her she's a mess later if you want.

i think i did something very bad a freudian to the young children though- we were all upstairs watching "mickey's christmas carol" (me: you know the story of 'a christmas carol?' it's about the greediest old man named scrooge...) when jack suddenly said, "i have to potty!"

me: oh- ok, do you need your mom?
jack: potty!
(we run to the bathroom)
me: do you need your mom?
jack: no.
me: ok...

jack runs into the bathroom.

30 seconds later comes back, pants around his ankles.

me: everything good?
jack pulls up pants.
jack: yep.
me: did you wash your hands?
jack: no that's ok.
me: oh we better wash your hands to get rid of the germies!
eaden appears.
eaden: i have to potty!
eaden runs to bathroom.
jack: i have to wash my hands!
jack runs to bathroom.
i run to the bathroom.
me: ok, eaden, do you need your mom?
eaden puts her hands into the air.
eaden: hold up my dress!
jack: i have to wash my hands.
me: jack, i think eaden needs some privacy.
eaden: HOLD UP MY DRESS!
me: ok!
i hold up eaden's dress.
me: do you need help pulling down your tights?
eaden: yes!
i pull down her tights.
me: do you need help with your panties?
eaden: yes!
me: do you need help getting on the toilet?
eaden: YES!
i then helped her to the toilet, but i soon realized if i let her go, she would fall in, so i held her there.
me: just tell me when your done.
eaden concentrates.
jack comes over then, very curious and pokes eaden's underwear.
me: yes those are her panties!
me in head: oh my god, i've screwed him up psychologically! he's going to be dealing with this when he's 19!
eaden: done!
me: ok, wipe yourself.
(DID not give her the option of me helping out there)
me: ok, let's pull up your tights.
jack: hey, i'm different!
me in head: oh dear god.
me: now let's all wash our hands!

i love kids.

after the kids and everyone else left, i was basically hammered. i crawled into my jammies to watch rotk.

i love that movie.

my thoughts, in sum.

faramir and pippin's scene. not in my wildest fangirl dreams could it have been better. best. added. scene. ever. not only was it with pippin and faramir, the best characters of the entire trilogy, but it harkened to the dialogue pippin shared with the young boys and bergil in the novel, which was my favourite in the books!
SCREAM.

merry talking about pippin. now all the pippin analysts can rest. merry said what we've been talking about for the past 4 years right out loud. loved it.

faramir and éowyn's lurve needed to be 10 hours longer for me to be appeased.

sam breaks my heart.

yawn. and on that note, i think i'm off to update the pippin site.

suddenly i was @ 03:02 pm
(no feathers)

suddenly i was @ 03:58 am
(no feathers)

thursday, december 16, 2004

I have my "Baba O'Riley" cranked nice and loud and I am raring to go for something. When I get off work I like to spend the first two hours of my evening freedom running, jumping and (standing still- get that beatles reference and you get a cookie) yelling loudly.

I begin this journal with a little meme, which I hardly ever do, from a few weeks ago for a few reasons.
A. It makes me squee.
B. I would like to talk about something related to my own early 1900’s tale.

When I was in Chicago Loews Cinema began celebrating its 100th anniversary. i was watching a documentary on film history on the History Channel and it started by saying the official birthday of cinema is considered to be December 26 1895 which was when the first commercial exhibition of a projected motion picture to a paying public took place.
At the time i was thought to myself, "1895, that was year my character Kip was supposed to be born."

gasp.

i then gasped.

I jotted the date down on a piece of paper, so I might read up on the day at a later time.

Here are some notes about the day December the 26th. Tell me, those of you in the know, if you think they appropriately describe the character of Kip.

Those who are born on December 26 are not to be beaten down. It is not unusual for them to adopt a rebellious stance, particularly in their youth and as they tend to live on the fringe or at very least, oppose the prevailing standards of the day, they are often considered troublemakers. Over the years, however, their outlook usually becomes more conservative (though if they remain unfulfilled in life, this is not always the case).
December 26 people are challengers by nature. The truth or falsehood of a given situation is something to be scrutinized, not avoided. These people are courageous and readily confront issues others shy away from. Within groups they are known as the outspoken critics of ignorance and have little patience for flattery or deception. Most of their interests are with the here and now; rather than metaphysical or spiritual pursuits.
The danger exists for December 26 people for becoming too hard. They might lose sensitivity to the point of becoming unfeeling, both personally and in an empathic sense.
To safeguard against this, December 26 people must learn to consciously allow their for their human nature to come through- make an effort to admit their mistakes, see opposing points of view and even occasionally admit defeat.
December 26 people are in no particular hurry to get things done. They have an impressive ability to focus all of their energies into one area, which makes them devastating opponents.
December 26 people can also be difficult in relationships as they generally must play the dominant role.

General Strengths: Careful, Persevering, Methodical
General Weaknesses: Inflexible, Dominating, Authoritarian
Sign: Capricorn (ruled by Saturn)
Number: 8 (also ruled by the planet Saturn)

Other notes of Interest:

The Tarot card of the Major Arcana associated with this day is Strength (sometimes called Courage) and stands for moral and physical strength in overcoming rebellious energies. This card's positive attributes include charisma and the determination to succeed.

General Mao was born on December 26. Scary.

I think it's pretty on the money. I was amazed. There was a reason that date struck me in such a manner i was propelled to write it down. You can just tell when something is special. So Kip's birthday is coming up. He shares it with cinema. Are we going to have a party?

I was born on the day of Capital Investment. My strengths are: shrewdness, patience and success orientation. My weaknesses are the inability to be self-satisfied and I am indecisive.

I also think that's fairly accurate.

Bob Dylan and Queen Victoria share a birthday.

If anyone would like to know anything about their special day, let me know or if you would like to haphazard a guess at a good day for a birthday for my other character, Felix, please be my guest.

suddenly i was @ 08:49 pm
(no feathers)

saturday, december 11, 2004

i used to write poetry- who knew?

who wants to read?

"candle stick" written at age 11

Candle stick, oh candle stick
with fire set upon your wick
Wisping silently in the night
but shining bright till dawn
While baby rests upon the floor
wind raps on the door
The moon fades away
welcoming the sun for another day
The old woman wakes
and with a gentle blow
you go
to wait for another night
when the moon is full
and shining bright

from my romanticism notebook called, "romanticism: ah, it is fair."

"the boy's song of innocence" written at age 14

A small boy sits amidst the snowy lace
though cold and hungry, he dons a merry face
This face of his is ashen white
but his soul has kept his eyes alight
Spinning looking to the sky
he lets his soulful song go fly
Down the cobble road he skips along
trilling this merry, soulful song
Snowflakes kiss his cheeks and lashes
his face beams beneath the ashes
Like a single star at night
he's a shining beacon in this blight
Off the city walls his voice does ring
Let us listen- let him sing
Every note high and sweet
his every step a sprightly feat
His angelic laughter fills the air
to release this joy he has to share
This child so fresh and new
who sings of virtue, clear and true
Though no one ever sheltered him from strife
he still leads an angel's life
Singing of love into the snow
Spinning in the moment as his voice does grow
Laughing, laughing as if he knows no pain
with his voice he shuns his bane
Even with the wind biting at his soul
His song still grows- ne'er to null
Then he sits against a wall
watching the snow flakes as they fall
He lays down his head, so soft and fair
to listen- as his song dances with the lace upon the air

forgive my use of the word "null" there. i think i can be forgiven a few malaprops as i was 14.

p.s. i was very much into gavroche of victor hugo's "les misérables" and oliver from "oliver twist" when i wrote this and i was inspired by vivaldi's "nulla pas sincera." for those in the known, i think this one describes proto-felix.

"the boy's song of experience" written at age 14

Amongst the sweepings of the street
skips our urchin singing sweet
Our urchin child, lost and cold
his loveless stories still untold
His child hands clasp in prayer
praying to one he's not sure is there
Praying for a happy 'morrow
that will end his eternal sorrow
Then he smiles- but this in vain
for till death there's no end to pain
Within his smile is the laughter of his years
though inside his heart, he's drown by tears
Some golden hair falls to his face
this angel lost in a despot place
HIs face is still soft, though dirty and worn
His soul is still gallant, but tattered and torn
For him, ever is the blackness and ever is the bleak
For he is always hungry and he is always weak
Yet he is Heaven's mirth
bound here in Hell upon the Earth
But he still sings his song forlorn
His song of love to be reborn
In the darkness and on his own
he sings of love he hasn't known
For no one cradles him when he sleeps
And no one comforts him when he weeps
No mercy has he been spared
No love has he been shared
Yet his soulful eyes shine with tear
as his small limbs dance with death so near
But his song- don't they hear?
Don't they see his fragile frame so dear?
The answer no- they pass on by
leaving this angel alone to die.

did i just reference God, Heaven and Hell?

Oh my god, there's a sonnet.

"A Sonnet" written at age 14

She passed him in but one single second
This as brief as a fleeting day in Spring
Her azure eyes looked and to him beckoned
with that, to his world a light she did bring
And in that burst of light, his life did start
but like the petals on the wind she flew
then in her absence, longing broke his heart
longing for this angel he hardly knew
Though no words conversed he heard Heaven sing
Their souls joined in this one quick glance
and in his mind her imagery did ring
he, perhaps in love with one met by chance
But he let his love pass him by in the rain
And this has bound him in eternal pain

i wonder what else is in my closet!

suddenly i was @ 09:38 pm
(no feathers)

suddenly i was @ 01:56 am
(no feathers)

friday, december 10, 2004

He was a tall boy, though not more than twelve and very striking with dark features and a confident stance. He wore a sailor’s shirt with a broad neck, which opened down to the middle of his chest. His tousled hair and fresh face gave the distinct impression of having been slapped with a great burst of sea wind and the salt in the air brought a flush rose to his tawny cheek. His eyes, though partially hidden by heavy, sly lids sparkled with intelligence and wit. He stared considerably for a moment then inhaled deeply to indicate he was ready to impart some opinion on the matter. He licked his teeth, something he always did before speaking and with a half-smile and in a breathless manner, for he was also always breathless, said brightly, “Well, I hope you’re feeling at least some what mediocre. I’ve never seen anyone half so dry in all my whole life.”

the person who guesses correctly who i am talking about, totally gets a cookie.

suddenly i was @ 08:56 pm

thursday, december 9, 2004

me: now one in the manner of a disney princess!

(sings faux-opera style)

me: and when i dream today i know what i'd say...

(speaking)

me: come on poodles, mabel, everyone! and when i dream today-

no wonder i don't have a social life.

suddenly i was @ 07:20 pm

currently i have reacquainted myself with an old friend of mine, bob dylan.

2000 was the last big year for dylan and i. some of you may recall the hit of the first year art show at SAIC, bob or more recently, bob is wet. 2001 wasn't bad either. that's when i saw the man in concert.
who am i kidding? there was some farting around in the dylanverse back two years ago when i storyboarded "tangled up in blue."

but i ramble.

anyhow. for whatever reason, two days ago i decided i simply had to listen to "blood on the tracks" (brilliance) at least 10,000 times before this week was up and i have been listening to it constantly ever since.

me at work: BOB!

"blood on the tracks" is a beautiful, amazing masterpiece. it always reminds me of my first year at school, animating all night while "blood on the tracks played on in the background.
the album has so much emotion i almost can't take it. "simple twist of fate" makes my stomach a lonesome sort of queasy, "big girl now" gets me tingly, "idiot wind" is the angriest song known to man and "if you see her, say hello..."

oh! that last song. it is one of my most favourite songs of all time.

have you heard it?

all this listening however brought back a memory from the deep recesses of my mind. a memory i had suppressed, deep, deep... deep. into my subconscious.
6 months ago, almost to the day now! - i wrote an email which referenced this song.
and well, because it's december and i like obsessing, i'm obsessed with this.

i can't help but wonder, what was in my kool-aid the day i decided to reference the song?

i mean, what would you think if you caught a reference to this song in an email addressed to you?

(lyrics)

i am so lame. this is also old news and i need to go to bed. the song thing just makes me laugh.

i have to get to bed. tomorrow i drive to work. i also have to go hit record on television. mo is on larry king (who secretly fancies him) and i must tape it for the friends back in chicago.

NOTE

i lost all my email addresses today. my address book was eaten. i think i recovered everyone, but if you think i might have missed you, post your email address in a comment, yo.

suddenly i was @ 02:17 am

wednesday, december 8, 2004

have your answer?

theirs was hands.

hands?

hands?

the one feature which isn't even a blip on my radar. not even close to being a blip, but apparently this "hand" thing is quite normal- and ubiquitous. i asked around.

who knew?

would you like to know my choices? prospective soulmates, please read.

1. humor.
it's not exactly a physical feature, but i really could care less about looks. if a person is smartly funny, if they make me laugh, everything else by comparison is mute. as my coworker would say, "humor KILLS." a good sense of humor will make someone attractive to me.

2. eyes.
they're not called the windows to the soul for nothing you know.

3. voice.
again, not exactly a feature-feature, but, oi. a good voice? a few of you out there KNOW what it can do to me.

somewhere along the lines of choosing my favourite "features," when thinking and mulling over all possible aspects of a person's body, i had an epiphany.

i actually have a fetish.

i thought only silly girls and characters from ally mcbeal had fetishes. i never knew, lurking in the dark corridors of my secret desires, i too had a skulking monster. maybe everyone has a fetish.
i cal my "thing" a fetish because it is so incredibly random, but when this particular part of the body is "just so," i can safely say, it can jettison the specimen in possession of it to the position of, "supreme hotness" in my esteems.

my fetish.

i don’t know what it’s called. the chin. the place where a double chin wants to be. a preemptive goiter. whatever it is, it’s hot. like a fox. melts me like buttah and I want to eat it.

i realize this some what esoteric definition of mine, leaves something to be desired. it is lacking and is in desperate want of visual aid to help the yearning public.
and who am i to deny the yearning public?

so...

let us start with exhibit a.

exhibit a

to utter words to try and explain what is so clearly obvious here would be blasphemy to the specimen and an insult to your intelligence. surely, no higher functioning lifeform could miss what we see before us. so instead of lecturing, i would like you to simply observe the fine curvature of this exhibit and keep it in mind as one of the most flawless in the world. it is rare to find such a specimen in today's chiseled world. next slide, please.

exhibit b

ah (look at all the lonely people), lennon. before he was jaded, before he entered his "fat elvis" phase (see "HELP!"), never was lennon so deliciously fetishistic as he was in the 1964 run away film classic, "a hard day's night." heroine did NOTHING for him in his later years. compleatly destroyed what we see and admire in this exhibit.

exhibit c

here we have lennon again. this is a particularly exciting shot as the fetish point is caught in mid-action as lennon's head bows over his tea.

just breathtaking.

revered silence.

next slide please.

exhibit d

we shall end with the roccaian specimen because it is just so amazing. never before have i seen such wonder in the wild. the only other specimen i have seen of this caliber (perhaps even greater) was in a very elusive figure when i was on safari in animation II, but i digress. this, for all your intents and purposes, is absolute perfection.

and that concludes our exhibition. it should be known this particular fetish of mine applies only to males. in females, an entirely different set of rules apply and i find myself favoring the neck and collar bone, but as this is quite an average interest, i choose to not elaborate and rather only highlight this more amusing fetish.

to finish: i beg you now to all sit back and consider what you have just seen. then ask yourselves, "what turns me on like a toaster oven?" and reply here, because inquiring minds (read: i) wou- need to know.

so now you know what i think is "like totally hot." i figured i have discussed my underwear here, might as well. did i tell you guys my lj is still turning up on google? i really hope no one finds this.

oh, one last item. in searching my fetish files, i discovered something. something which could SHAKE the foundation of pop culture as we know it.

john lennon had another son.

did i just drop to another level in fandom hell? i'm not sure. december brings out the photoshop moron in me, what can i say?

suddenly i was @ 01:17 am

sunday, december 5, 2004

go on. ask me.

this entry was brought to you by the letter mo.

suddenly i was @ 12:09 am

friday, december 3, 2004

so one of my last days in chicago, i was walking along when i got the sudden urge to replace my brassiere. it was my manifest destiny, channeled from god's mind to my own. god wanted me to have a new garment. my others were old and as thin as rice paper- it was time.
i ducked into the nearest personals store to make my purchase.

clerk: may i help you?
me: out of my way you hindrance!

and i got this new garment.

oh.

my.

god.

this thing is amazing. i suddenly have cleavage. this is an entirely new experience for me. i thought nothing could out do the strapless bra in wonder, but i was wrong. now when i walk i have bounce.

me in the hallway at work: oh my god, there's buoyancy!

even my mom noticed and said, "holy jesus!" when i walked by. apparently these undergarment contraptions are supposed to provide support! who knew?

if only my tuesday had been different. i TOTALLY would have worn it for seven shots of jager (that comment is solely for the enjoyment of casey and sayyes).

2. guildenstern.

guildenstern was my pet frog. he was about a year old and was my dearest little friend while i was in school. he survived a 2 day car trip back and a tornado and i loved him very much. apparently on sunday my dad, who was watching him while i was gone these past few weeks, accidentally treated his water with the wrong chemical and it made him sick.
when my dad called with the news, i literally fell over and cried for 30 minutes. i felt very bad afterward, because my father already felt terrible about harming guildenstern, then i had to go and cry and cry asking, "how could you do that?"
i miss my frog very much.

3. last chicago days.

monday i went the opera with rachel. it was in the lyric opera house, which is where i graduated. it was an interesting experience to be back there. think, "hey- that's where i got my diploma."
before the opera started we were served wine and champagne.
now, i never drink, ever. no reason, just don't, but this was a special occasion; we were all dressed up (i had on my new garment), rachel had her "opera purse" so i had a glass.
oh my god, went straight to my head. i also had had nothing to eat all day. when the opera started my face was on fire.
me: i'm burning alive!
the opera was decent. the costumes were lovely, the set amazing, the music so-so and the story awful. i know operas are not known for their brilliant plots, but this one didn't even make sense. it was a czech opera called, "the cunning little vixen."
two thirds of the opera follows a vixen, who is sharp-witted and well, cunning. the forester (an aging man) is her nemesis and chases her throughout the proceedings. - then, suddenly, the vixen is killed and the story becomes about the forester and male menopause.
strange.
also, rachel burped during the the third act and that really, REALLY amused me.

perhaps it was the champagne.

tuesday i took myself to the field museum. everyone in the world was busy and i had been wanting to go, so i spent a quiet rainy afternoon looking at everything: the mummies, the gem room, the jade room, the bug collection, the dead animals, sue the t-rex; only the dinosaur collection was closed for remodeling, which made me sad. that's my favourite part!
for the evening i got together again with rachel and tammy. we had a wonderfully girly evening which consisted of a dinner of salad (we were supposed to have quiche but their oven died), marshmellies, ice cream, potato chips and champagne (again? i'm becoming a lush). this fine feast was to be accompanied with "pride and prejudice," aka the mister darcy show, which every lass ought to see but tammy didn't get out of work until late, so rachel and i first watched, "the wizard of oz." tammy came home in the middle of it and began asking questions.
tammy has no memory for movies. let me share with you.

t: i can't remember what happens in this movie.
me: are you serious?
t: what's the plot?
r: they follow the yellow brick road.
t: where's the yellow brick road go?
r&i: riotous laughter.
t: what? home?
me: to the wizard, tammy, the wizard of oz.

this, however, is my favourite quote of the night.

t: mmm. champagne and potato chips.

we're just gross, do you know?

tammy had to go to bed early, so she couldn't finish "pride and prejudice" when we finally did start it, but rachel and i watched the entire 6 hours of it. i spent the night there as it was a. blizzarding, b. 3 am and c. way too scary to walk outside alone.
the next morning, i said goodbye, got my suitcase which weighed more than god and nabbed cab for the airport which turned out to be the most harrowing ride of my life.

signs i have learned which will help you to decide whether or not your cabbie may be "off"

1. asks you three times to repeat "o'hare airport"
2. does not signal or look before violently changing lanes, kamikaze-style WHILE another car is in the expectant lane
3. varies between speeds 50 and 100 miles per hour on freeway with no apparent method or reason for doing so

the flight home was one of the more uncomfortable i've had in a long while: a child with consumption was in front of me, i was in back of a man bent on seeing how far he could lean back his chair, thus pushing his tray-table into my chest while mister man in back of me shoved his amazingly oversized carry-on into my ankles. i also was not in a window seat as planned but the the aisle chair- ANGST.
nothing like adventures in coach-class.

and now i am back. i haven't been fired yet, so am working again. today was fun. we had an impromptu photoshoot with kittens, but i am SO tired right now i cannot bear to go into it, so instead i leave you with this deep thought from an email of mine:

"i also keep thinking, 'the watched pot never boils.' i didn't watch 'the pot,' aka my email, for a week and wee! a reply. i watch it for one day (being home now) nothing. i just have to revert to not caring again, which i have done, but i am not certain- can you backtrack like that? what if i was watching the pot and thinking about it and now i am not, does the pot know it was being watched?"

what do you think?

suddenly i was @ 11:45 pm