I’m writing again.

I know, that’s a weird thing for a blogger to say, but I mean that after 5 1/2 years, I’m working on my book again.  Someday, eventually, it will be finished.  I don’t know if it will ever find an audience, but I don’t really care.  I’m writing this for me.

Anyway, here’s the first “page”.  Let me know what you think.  And just because I have to say it: the following is my intellectual property and may not be used without my express permission.  No permission is currently given or implied.

 

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I am walking in the desert.  The desert that was my home for twenty years, dry and harsh, unforgiving and beautiful.  I see a girl of sixteen years before me with wild eyes and angry lips.  “Child,” I say, startled by her calloused and storm wracked soul, “Child, what wrong has the world done you? What offense has life given you, to make you so sad and render you so broken?”

“You!” she cries, green eyes sharp with accusation, “You have forgotten me, buried me and forsaken me.”

“Forsaken? Forgotten?  I see you in my own green eyes every single day.  I forget nothing and I love you with everything I am.”

“Love?” she spits “Love?  You dare speak to me of love?  Remember, it was through my death came your birth.  You never mourned me but rejoiced you had found life again.”

My heart breaking, tears running from my eyes I turn.  There is a second girl walking through the desert.  For a moment I think she a mirage but as she draws closer, I see the substantiality of her.  Her pink hair blows in a breeze that feels more an oven than a relief.  She draws near and takes me in her arms.  She kisses me; her lips taste of hope and longing.

“Sister, you have forgotten us.  I would have you remember.”

“Woman!” A gruff man’s voice interrupts. “Woman, you have forsaken all of us. Banished us to forgotten past and denied our existence.  Denied us a place in your heart.  I would have that place returned.”  He’s tall, a full foot above myself.  He wears blue in his hair and silver in his nose.

“Brother, brother I-“  I can’t finish.  The three of them surround me and an overwhelming weight falls on my heart.

Crying, I fall to my knees and beg forgiveness.  They press in on me, hands raking my flesh and rending it from my bones.

 

Darkness.

 

Darkness.  The sounds of three lives breathing in the darkness around me.  The man asleep at my side.  The girl asleep at my feet and her brother asleep on my chest.  I stretch lazily and my sweet girl passes a lazy paw at my toes as they move beneath the blanket.  My darling boy purrs sleepily as I scratch between his ears.  Turning over and upsetting him from his bed, he moves to my feet with his sister.  I’m soaked with sweat and tears, crying silently as the last of the dream fades away.  They’ve been coming more often, the nightmares.  I struggle with their meaning, defiant of the charges laid against me.  Knowing sleep has left me for the time, I climb out of bed and retreat to shower away the angst of my nightmares.  Cleansed of salt, sweat and anxiety, I stare into the mirror.  She’s there, in my eyes, I can see her.  Staring back at me, curious of the woman I have become.  Wondering if there is any room left in my heart for her.   What she doesn’t understand is that I am still her servant.  Still her, always.  Nothing will ever erase her presence from my life, the scars from my body, the longing from my heart.

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The Reason for Radio Silence

Sorry kids, I’ve been traveling.  And quite frankly, I was having too much fun to worry about much of anything.

Sister came to town on the 9th with her boyfriend.  We spent the 10th in Austin, the 11th in Copperas Cove visiting our Older Sister and her husband/kids, the 12th and 13th in Corpus Christi at the beach.  On the 14th, we drove back to Phoenix and I spent St Patrick’s Day weekend with the Brother (D), his Girlfriend (D2), and a friend from high school, G.  Also, G’s dog, Zack.  Zack is kind of on my shitlist right now: On Monday morning, when I was leaving, he made a run out the front door of G’s house and it took me a good 20 minutes to chase him down and drag him back inside.  But I’m getting ahead of myself.

Aside from some family drama that I promised Mom I wouldn’t air on the internet, I had a great time with Sister while she was visiting.  Phoenix was a fucking trip, however.  It’s always weird when I go home and while I had a blast, this trip was no exception.  Arrived late on Wednesday and immediately crashed.  Thursday morning, I went to the AZ Motor Vehicle Division (yeah, it’s not a DMV in Arizona, it’s the MVD.  Whatever, AZ, whatever.)  and got my Arizona Driver’s License back (I don’t want to accidentally establish residency in Texas, we’re only here until August when the Army moves us again), picked up concert tickets for Saturday and printed out the tickets to the Spring Training Game we were going to on Sunday.  Thursday afternoon was spent chain smoking, reading and arguing (only a little) with Sister.  Thursday evening, I spent the majority of the night chain smoking and reading at a Starbucks while waiting for Brother to get off work.

It was also EPIC LICENSE PLATE day in Phoenix, evidentially… Saw this one on the way to Starbucks:

Yeah, I don't know about you, but when I think "Dragonborn", I CERTAINLY don't think "Ford Fiesta"... But whatever, I guess. Everyone's entitled to their chosen mount...

And I saw this one in the parking lot at Starbucks:

This one made my little Whovian heart melt. <3<3

For those of you not in the “know”:  Dragonborn and Whovian.

Once Brother got off work, I drank a couple of beers with him (that’s a big deal, I don’t hardly ever drink) and his lovely ladyfriend and bullshitted until about 1 AM.  Brother and ladyfriend went to bed about the same time that their housemate, G got home from work.  Stayed up bullshitting with G until about 330 before finally crashing.  Lounged around most of Friday before going to see the progress on the house that Brother and Ladyfriend are having built.

Now, I should explain something about my Brother and his Ladyfriend.  First, D is not blood, but he’s been one of my best friends since I was about 10 years old.  I love him like family and truly consider him to be my brother.  Even though we went to high school with his Ladyfriend and D knew her, I didn’t actually meet her until New Years when I was visiting in Phoenix.  But I kind of love her too.  I’ve never seen D so happy, calm or contented as he is with D2.

So, we’re checking out the house they’re having built and they decide to take me over to the model so I can see what it will look like when there’s more than just support beams up.  The model is really cute, it’s a 3 bedroom, 2 1/2 bath.  We’re doing the walkthrough and when we left the master bedroom to go look at the other two bedrooms, Ladyfriend immediately says “And this is where you’ll stay when you come visit, I mean, if you want to stay with us, you’ll always have a place here.”  My heart melted.  It’s official, she has my stamp of approval.  I love this girl and I want Brother to marry her for so many reasons, but it means a TON to me that she’s not threatened by me or my relationship with D.  He’s had some girlfriends in the past that didn’t get it.  They somehow thought that I was hanging around with him to try to steal him away.  All I could think was “Oh, No, honey, If I wanted that, I would have had it a long time ago before you were ever in the picture.”

Saturday morning, I picked up an army buddy (from Germany) who’s now living in Phoenix, E, and a girlfriend from high school (who I’m kind of crazy about), L, and we went to see the Flogging Molly show.  It was INSANE.  Now, FM plays Phoenix every year on St Patrick’s Day.  I know, that’s a little weird, but bear with me.  Basically, they’ve always had a really loyal and supportive fan base in Phoenix even before they were wildly popular and they had a tremendous amount of support from the now defunct Edge 103.9 alternative rock station in Phoenix.  So as a thank you, they play every year on St Paddy’s Day.  I’ve never been to the show on the weekend before, every year that I’ve been in Phoenix and able to go, the show has been during the week and there will be two or three opening bands.  On a Saturday, however, there were 9 “opening” bands (starting around 1330), followed by ROGER CLYNE AND THE PEACEMAKERS before Flogging Molly hit the stage at about 2200.  First, I fucking LOVE Roger Clyne and the Peacemakers.  They’re amazing.  And I didn’t realize they were on the bill until I picked up my tickets from will call 3 months after I bought them. Second, the show was exhausting but absolutely wonderful.  I genuinely enjoyed all of the local talent and the “opening” bands were very good.  I wish I had known before the show started that it was going to be 10 hour event, but it was still amazing.  I left the show sunburnt, sore, exhausted and utterly happy.  I’ll make a more detailed post about the shit-show that was Tempe later…

Slept in on Sunday morning and then went to an AZ Diamondbacks Spring Training game with D.  Playing the A’s, we got our asses handed to us.  Not to mention the 20 minute “rain” delay for the HAIL STORM that hit the field at the end of the 3rd inning.  Yeah, Freaky Damn Weather to say the least.  Spend Sunday night relaxing and packing up before the 14 hour, 997 mile drive I had on Monday.

And let me tell you about that.

First of all, when ANYONE thinks Arizona in March, they think 80 degrees, sunshine, spring training.  They don’t think HAIL AND SNOW.  Certainly not down south.  It was cold when I left Phoenix, down the I-10 and when I got to Tucson it was hailing and snowing.  It is UTTERLY FUCKING BIZARRE to see snow on cacti.  Snowed and hailed off and on until Las Cruces, NM.  Dried up in time for me to cross into Texas at El Paso.  I had nice, dry, warm weather from El Paso until about Junction, TX.  Junction is about 100 miles outside of San Antonio.  From Junction to Boerne (pronounced “burn-y”), which is about 1o miles north of San Antonio, I had crazy heavy wind and rain.  Hydroplaned on the highway several times but always managed to regain control of my truck.  Once I got to Boerne, it was 75* and dry as a bone.  Humid as all hell, but the roads were dry like it hadn’t even considered raining.  When I got home Husband informed me that “yeah, you drove right through a MAJOR storm system, we’ve had tornado warning’s all day.”  Tuesday, Mom called me with “DID YOU HEAR, THERE WAS A TORNADO WEST OF SAN ANTONIO LAST NIGHT!”  Yeah, mom, that doesn’t surprise me.  I’m just glad I didn’t drive into a fucking tornado last night.

Needless to say, I firmly believe that the weather gods were fucking with me on this trip.


My Mother is an Alien.

Not really, but she doesn’t speak english.  At least, not as most Americans do.  Don’t get me wrong, I’m not trying to dog on her, she’s awesome and I love her so much it’s ridiculous.  But she has a really big problem with word recall and it makes for some hilarious conversations.  Take this one, from a couple of weeks ago:

Mom: Hey, you know that thing you have on your phone?  How do I get that on my phone? I like Bedazzled but I want the other thing too.

Me: Mom, you like Bejeweled, not Bedazzled.  And the game you’re thinking of?  It’s called Chuzzle.

Mom: Yeah, that’s it.  Thanks!

No one else could have had that conversation with her and had any idea what she was talking about.  I’ve had my dad call me and say things like “Your mother was asking me about ‘What was that thing you were talking to Kalypso about? That one thing? You know, right?’  And I have no fucking idea what she means, do you?” “Um. No, not really.”

Anyway, moving on.

Yet another reason I love having cats and not kids:  My cats are 4 and 4 1/2 years old.  Now, if I had a pair of 4 1/2 year old twins instead of cats, my life would be a hell of a lot more difficult. I got very, very sick today.  My temporary crown is almost two weeks old and is starting to loosen around the stump of my tooth.  I’m getting the permanent crown on this weekend but it’s starting to hurt when I brush my teeth or drink something cold.  It hurts a LOT.  So this morning, after brushing my teeth and spending three hours in a considerable amount of pain, I broke down and took a vicodin.  Now, I get prescribed narcotics a couple of times a year, mostly because I’m clumsy and have a habit of falling and dislocating and/or breaking things.  I almost never take them.  The last time I was given prescription for vicodin was just before Christmas and I fell and dislocated my shoulder.  I didn’t take a single pill for that.  So for me to break down and actually take narcotics is kind of a big deal and means I’m hurting pretty damn bad.  Unfortunately, because I never take narcotics, I sometimes get really sick when I take them.  Today was one of those days.  I spent about three hours alternating between vomiting and laying on the tile floor of my bathroom because the cold tile was the only thing that made me feel a little better.

If I had kids the same age as my cats, it would have either freaked them out or they wouldn’t have even noticed.  But I don’t have kids.  I have kittens.  And they both did their best to try to make me feel better.  They sat in the doorway while I was vomiting and when I wasn’t, they both came into the bathroom and purred their little heads off, cuddled with me.

I don’t get sick very often, maybe once a year, but I do get migraines.  And whenever I’m bedridden, hiding in a dark room with a pillow over my head because I can’t bear any noise, light, or movement without pain, they’re there.  They purr.  They cuddle.  They sleep with me and make sure I know I’m not alone.

I do realize that there’s a fair amount of anthropomorphization going on here, but I like to think it’s because they know I don’t feel good and they’re worried about me.  They’re trying to make me feel better.  And for that, if nothing else, I love them.


The Pterodactyl Story.

… Yeah, this one’s gotta be a video. It just won’t work in typeface.  So, ladies and gentlemen, I present The Pterodactyl Story (Or, my first trip to the South)

Again, feedback is welcome on the video, but trolls will not be tolerated and troll comments will be deleted.


Let’s talk Foxes.

Not real foxes. I mostly want an excuse to post pictures of David Tennant topless and swoon over Ryan Gosling.  But we’ll get to that later…

I should start at the beginning.  Yesterday, I watched the 2011 remake of Fright Night for the first time.  And I know they tried really, really hard to make a legit horror film, but it’s absolutely awful. It has David Tennant and Collin Farrell in it though, so it’s really great Lady Porn.  Honestly, the acting is all pretty good and the storyline isn’t that bad.  It’s got all the right elements to be a good horror film but it failed to ever scare me.  Mostly, it made me laugh. A lot.  I don’t know where it went wrong with the “horror” aspect, but somewhere along the way it did.  And maybe I’m wrong, maybe the studio meant for it to be funny instead of scary, but I really don’t think so.  Anton Yelchin (who is adorable but kind of makes me feel like a pedophile even though he’ll be 23 next week) and Toni Collette are both pretty awesome and as always, are superb actors.  Collin Farrell, while foxy as HELL just comes across bored instead of evil or scary.  Come to think of it, the only movie I’ve seen where Collin Farrell didn’t come across as either bored or campy as fuck was In Bruges.  Which you need to see.  NOW.  Seriously, if you haven’t seen this movie you’re missing out on one of the best black comedies I’ve ever seen.  It’s dark and sad and funny and just generally fantastic.  But I digress.

The number one reason to see Fright Night is David Tennant.  He plays a Las Vegas magician/vampire expert and he’s hilarious.  He starts out all dark and broody and sexy as hell and just turns ridiculous.

I’m not able to embed the clip I want, but seriously, you need to go watch this. It’s about a 3 minute clip of Tennant in Fright Night and it’s hilarious.

While it was a little unnerving to watch The Doctor drop F-Bombs left and right and talk about sex and wear leather pants, it was also incredibly … Hot.  Also, he’s topless for the majority of the scenes he has. Which I approve of.  Wholeheartedly.  In fact, I think that David Tennant should just never wear a shirt.  Ever.  Even if it’s 10 degrees below zero.  Don’t care.  Show me them abs, Scottish.  Ahem. Sorry, I may have gotten distracted there for a second.  Tennant also has the two best lines in the entire movie.  I’m not going to tell you their context, you should really just watch it, but here’s two of the three greatest things I’ve ever heard him say:

“I’m a great date! Get me drunk enough and I’ll try anything!”

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. That doesn’t narrow it down. That’s like, mini-golf and sushi. ”

(The third, in case you were wondering, was from an episode of Doctor Who.  A police officer tells the Doctor that he’s under arrest for aiding and abetting and the Doctor replies with “Right, I’ll just step into this police box and arrest myself then.”  And promptly steps into the TARDIS.)

Seriously, I’m telling you, David Tennant makes this movie worth watching.  Go track it down or Netflix it or whatever.

UPDATED!!1!11!!
Shit, when I posted this the first time I completely forgot to tell you about my new favorite thing. Over the ending credits of Fright Night, there’s an old-timey rock and roll version of “99 Problems”. Really, the only thing it has in common with Jay-Z’s song are the lines “If you’re having girl problems/I feel bad for you son/I got 99 problems/but a bitch ain’t one” It’s performed by Hugo and it’s fabulous! Listen to it. Love it. Download it. The entire album this came off of is really good and well worth the $8.00 in iTunes.

So, moving on to Ryan Gosling.  I think it’s pretty well established that Ryan Gosling, in addition to being one of the greatest actors in Hollywood today, is a sex GOD.  I don’t know a single heterosexual female (or homosexual male) that doesn’t think this man is sex on a stick. Shit, I know plenty of lesbians and straight men who think he’s gorgeous.

Last night, after watching Fright Night, I watched Drive. It was unsurprisingly lovely. Honestly, I’ve never seen a Ryan Gosling movie I haven’t liked. Except the Notebook. But I mostly hate that movie because it makes me cry and I don’t like to cry. Gosling’s character in Drive was a lot more complex then I thought he was going to be and it was incredibly well acted (as always). The whole movie is very well choreographed and the cinematography is phenomenal.
This is one of my favorite scenes from the movie, but be aware, there are titties and violence in it, so it may not be safe for work or children.

Check it out, it’s worth the 2 hours you’ll spend on it and then some.

(I just realized that with how much I talk about him, I may need a David Tennant tag… What do you think?)


Operators, Acts of Valor and Those Left Behind

Today has been a really weird day and I apologize for going all emo on you, but I’ve got some shit I need to talk about.

Again, just a disclaimer, if you HAVEN’T seen the movie: HERE THERE BE SPOILERS!

Oh fuck it.  Watch a video instead of reading for once.

 

I’m not going to say be nice about the video, because I’d prefer you’re truthful, but be forewarned that trolls will not be tolerated. ❤


The Fuck-Its

Hello Internet.  I know, I’ve been quite remiss in my promise to “update daily with funny shit”.  I’m gonna be perfectly honest, I’ve had a real bad case of the fuck-its for about a month.  I’m not really sure why, but I am sure that I need to get over it.

Let’s talk about school.  I found out that I bombed an assignment this week.  I am taking a “Critical Thinking” class right now and we had an assignment due last week about identifying different types of fallacies.  I got 59/100.  Dropped my grade in the class from a 100% to a 90.4%.  Now, for those of you who don’t know or don’t care, my goal is to finish my bachelor’s with a 4.0 GPA, so it’s kind of important for me to maintain my A in this class.  And I know, there’s probably a lot of you that are thinking that “C’s get Degrees!” but since I am going on to a master’s program, finishing my bachelor’s with a 4.0 will make it soooooooo much easier to get accepted into my master’s program of choice.  Admittedly, out of 1000 possible points for this class, we only have 430 graded, so it’s unlikely that I won’t be able to maintain my A, but still.  I’m really, really bumming out about it and kind of hating myself for fucking up so badly.  I know, retrospection is useless at this point and all I can do is knuckle down and make sure that it doesn’t happen again.  Except that my instructor lady (yes, it’s that instructor lady) didn’t give me any feedback about WHAT I got wrong.  So I don’t know what I need to review and study.  And without that information, there’s a very real chance that I’ll study all the wrong shit and fuck it up again the next time around.  I’m going to email her this afternoon and see if she’ll send me a graded copy of my assignment so I know which fallacies I identified correctly and which ones I didn’t.  I’m sure that there’s a really good chance that my email exchange with her will be just as frustrating as the last one.  If it is, I’ll be sure to post it here.

Let’s talk about pointy sharp things!  Archery practice is still going well.  Not a whole lot to report on that front, except that I haven’t hit my forearm with my bowstring a SINGLE FUCKING TIME since I invested in a $30 leather armguard.  I’m still wearing it, but I fixed the technique and form issues I was having and it’s been lovely.  The bruise on my forearm is almost gone, too!

More introspection! Huzzah!  So, I’ve been thinking a lot about The Power of Words lately.  I feel like there’s more that I can do to help LGBT teens other than talking about the issue and relating my own story.  The problem is, I’m pretty inconsequential (haha, get it?) in the big picture and I don’t know what I can do.  A whopping 50 people read my blog (and that might be optimistic) and I don’t know what else I can do to try to raise awareness and promote love and tolerance.  One thing I do want to plug is the Born This Way Foundation.  It’s a non profit started by Lady Gaga and her mom, aimed at increasing tolerance, acceptance and love in the world.  From their mission statement:

The Foundation is dedicated to creating a safe community that helps connect young people with the skills and opportunities they need to build a braver, kinder world.

We believe that everyone has the right to feel safe, to be empowered and to make a difference in the world. Together, we will move towards acceptance, bravery and love.

And that’s beautiful, I think.  So if you have a few minutes, go over and check them out.  Because He made you perfect, babe. ❤

And one more time, PLEASE support the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline.

UPDATE:

I sent the following email to Instructor Lady.

Not to be a nitpicker, but you graded my assignment wrong.  When checking the answers with the matrix you provided, I actually got 10/15 correct and not 9/15.  That would make my grade for the assignment 66.6, not 59.94.  Which would make my overall total grade a 91.96%, not 90.4%.  I know that this is something that I need to work on and something that I need to study more, but I also deserve the grade I actually earned.  I would appreciate it if you could correct this.  I have attached a copy of the assignment where I was copying down the correct answers next to the incorrect answers so I could study them, when I noticed that I got “poisoning the well” correct but was not awarded points for it.  I have also attached the grading matrix you provided for me and the my original submission.

Thank you,

Kalypso

Waiting for a reply.  I am really curious what she’s going to say…