Well, I suppose my birthday this year was a lot better than I am accustomed to, thanks in part to all the birthday wishes I received from you guys! Of particular note is Minerva, who got me possibly the greatest gift I have ever received in my entire life!
Come to think of it, she is the only person who actually got me a gift; my family gave up trying to shop for me years ago, so I'm a 26 y/o who still gets birthday cards with cash. However, this cash went towards a present that I purchased on my own: a new Sirius satellite radio unit for my car. I'm not usually one for flashy new gadgets, but I do a lot of driving and the clarion call of freedom from heavily rotated shit bands, increasing commercial blocks, growing FCC censorship and the ongoing existance of Clear Channel Communications was too much to resist in this case. The road trips I have planned in the next couple months will go by a helluva lot smoother with this baby keeping me company.
In addition, it seems that the usual birthday blues and crises decided to pass me by this year, possibly as a new chapter is unfolding in my life, the bad luck this place holds for me may finally be slipping away as I make my first real steps towards liberation and civilization. But then again, maybe the malignant interference of the gods are just saving it up for Christmas; I won't know until I get there.
Raven was not well-behaved this weekend, as she previously promised as my birthday present. It's my own fault really; everytime I let her watch more than a couple hours of cartoons a day, my sweet little angel turns into a completely rebellious snot. I could almost understand if the cartoons were passing along a bad message, but I monitor what she watches and its fairly wholesome stuff without an ulterior marketing motive. I don't use the television as a nanny, but when it rains like it has been, and there's nothing I can take her to at the cinema and there's nothing daddy-daughter oriented going on around town, there really isn't for her to do that'll keep her away from the television. Some weekends are quite merciful, as she'll get bored with her reruns after an hour and has a tea party with her dolls or practices her spelling with the books I bought her. But other times are like this weekend, where the remote has to be literally pried from her defiant, screaming person, and I have to draw on every ounce of wit I can spare just to coax her into something more benign until the demons exit her body. We did manage to make some more breakthroughs on her math skills, and she's picking up on the spelling of words at an impressive rate. We also had our bonding time, which usually involves her challenging me to hand-to-hand combat, and then getting to her listen to her rationalization of why she was the winner.
I also wish she would try to bond to other members of my side of the family other than myself and my parents; while she can remember everything about her cousins, she seems quite disinterested in her aunts and uncles most of the time. Granted, she doesn't see them nearly as much as her mom's side of the family, but it just seems weird hearing my brother referred to as "your brother who is Madelyne's dad." My sister Mona, in constrast, is quite proud to be known by Raven as "The Golden Hair Girl"...not many other grandmothers can boast of that.
Speaking of Mona, it seems that I am the new temporary owner of her Shih Tzu, Ping. He's quite easily one of the friendliest and most good-natured dogs I have ever met, despite being a genetic freak of nature that should not exist. Seriously, if we could bust China on only one crime against humanity, I would vote for creating these sad mockeries of life. If you're not familiar with the breed, then imagine if an Ewok successfully mated with a dust mop, and the resulting offspring was born with autism and a deviated septum, and the doctor had to run a battery of tests before he knew which end to slap. Anyway, my sister bought him while living in Hawaii, and has grown very attached to him through the years. She moved back here after divorcing her husband, bringing her most cherished pet with her. There were long periods in both Hawaii and Florida in which Ping was her only companionship, and her bond to little dog is adamant. Unfortunately, the love interest she is currently living with has despised the freak dog from the beginning, with his loathing only growing as time passed. Today my sister came to me crying, explaining that her boyfriend is not only demanding that she get rid of the dog, but also that he actually left the dog near the street for over an hour unsupervised and without a leash while she was gone. One of my other sisters, Lori, is currently trying to find him a new home, but Mona needs me to look after him until Lori can do just that. I've watched him before, so this is not a problem, but never before has the possibility of permanent ownership entered into the deal. Although he has creeped me out to the point of distraction in the past, I really don't mind the prospect of having more animals in the house, as I prefer a greater animal to human ratio in any living arrangement. He's currently sleeping at Raven's feet, making inexpicable nasal sounds in peaceful contentment (I think). After all, he is a great dog (despite the creepiness), and I'm sure we'll find a great home for him soon.
I wasn't really expecting to write this much tonight, but I suppose it's balance for the meager offerings I've been putting for instead of meaningful context as of late. Online journals aren't exactly Jane Austen to begin with, but I have been phoning these in a lot more lately than I used to resort to doing. I am almost loathe to update, as I think the previous entry was the first time I ever got three pages of posts, and it is hard to imagine when that will ever happen again. Still, goofy pictures of Johnny Damon are only funny for so long, as all things must change or risk stagnation.
Speaking of change, I need to find a new pic for my profile. I like to change them out after a certain period, if only for the sake of variation. Someone told me that they wanted to use my previous pic for themselves if I had ever discarded it, and I wish I could remember who it was so I could inform them it's all theirs now (I believe it was the photoshopped Zim pic, if anyone is keeping score). Shopping around for a new face will be another thing to keep me occupied in the wee hours.
I should really end here before I can think of anything else to say; the ideas have been flooding my mind the past few nights befween 3-8 am, but I've been fighting the urge until I can find enough space where I can afford to lose the sleep necessary to submit to the demiurge. Hopefully I can do some literary bleeding to relieve the pressure over Thanksgiving break if my skull doesn't burst beforehand. At any rate, my editor's email box will be an imcomprehensible mess by the time I'm done.
P.S. Has anyone noticed anything weird about the site since it got back online after the hack? Some of the pages seem to freeze up about halfway through loading, and this only seems to be happening on this site. Any word on this?
Come to think of it, she is the only person who actually got me a gift; my family gave up trying to shop for me years ago, so I'm a 26 y/o who still gets birthday cards with cash. However, this cash went towards a present that I purchased on my own: a new Sirius satellite radio unit for my car. I'm not usually one for flashy new gadgets, but I do a lot of driving and the clarion call of freedom from heavily rotated shit bands, increasing commercial blocks, growing FCC censorship and the ongoing existance of Clear Channel Communications was too much to resist in this case. The road trips I have planned in the next couple months will go by a helluva lot smoother with this baby keeping me company.
In addition, it seems that the usual birthday blues and crises decided to pass me by this year, possibly as a new chapter is unfolding in my life, the bad luck this place holds for me may finally be slipping away as I make my first real steps towards liberation and civilization. But then again, maybe the malignant interference of the gods are just saving it up for Christmas; I won't know until I get there.
Raven was not well-behaved this weekend, as she previously promised as my birthday present. It's my own fault really; everytime I let her watch more than a couple hours of cartoons a day, my sweet little angel turns into a completely rebellious snot. I could almost understand if the cartoons were passing along a bad message, but I monitor what she watches and its fairly wholesome stuff without an ulterior marketing motive. I don't use the television as a nanny, but when it rains like it has been, and there's nothing I can take her to at the cinema and there's nothing daddy-daughter oriented going on around town, there really isn't for her to do that'll keep her away from the television. Some weekends are quite merciful, as she'll get bored with her reruns after an hour and has a tea party with her dolls or practices her spelling with the books I bought her. But other times are like this weekend, where the remote has to be literally pried from her defiant, screaming person, and I have to draw on every ounce of wit I can spare just to coax her into something more benign until the demons exit her body. We did manage to make some more breakthroughs on her math skills, and she's picking up on the spelling of words at an impressive rate. We also had our bonding time, which usually involves her challenging me to hand-to-hand combat, and then getting to her listen to her rationalization of why she was the winner.
I also wish she would try to bond to other members of my side of the family other than myself and my parents; while she can remember everything about her cousins, she seems quite disinterested in her aunts and uncles most of the time. Granted, she doesn't see them nearly as much as her mom's side of the family, but it just seems weird hearing my brother referred to as "your brother who is Madelyne's dad." My sister Mona, in constrast, is quite proud to be known by Raven as "The Golden Hair Girl"...not many other grandmothers can boast of that.
Speaking of Mona, it seems that I am the new temporary owner of her Shih Tzu, Ping. He's quite easily one of the friendliest and most good-natured dogs I have ever met, despite being a genetic freak of nature that should not exist. Seriously, if we could bust China on only one crime against humanity, I would vote for creating these sad mockeries of life. If you're not familiar with the breed, then imagine if an Ewok successfully mated with a dust mop, and the resulting offspring was born with autism and a deviated septum, and the doctor had to run a battery of tests before he knew which end to slap. Anyway, my sister bought him while living in Hawaii, and has grown very attached to him through the years. She moved back here after divorcing her husband, bringing her most cherished pet with her. There were long periods in both Hawaii and Florida in which Ping was her only companionship, and her bond to little dog is adamant. Unfortunately, the love interest she is currently living with has despised the freak dog from the beginning, with his loathing only growing as time passed. Today my sister came to me crying, explaining that her boyfriend is not only demanding that she get rid of the dog, but also that he actually left the dog near the street for over an hour unsupervised and without a leash while she was gone. One of my other sisters, Lori, is currently trying to find him a new home, but Mona needs me to look after him until Lori can do just that. I've watched him before, so this is not a problem, but never before has the possibility of permanent ownership entered into the deal. Although he has creeped me out to the point of distraction in the past, I really don't mind the prospect of having more animals in the house, as I prefer a greater animal to human ratio in any living arrangement. He's currently sleeping at Raven's feet, making inexpicable nasal sounds in peaceful contentment (I think). After all, he is a great dog (despite the creepiness), and I'm sure we'll find a great home for him soon.
I wasn't really expecting to write this much tonight, but I suppose it's balance for the meager offerings I've been putting for instead of meaningful context as of late. Online journals aren't exactly Jane Austen to begin with, but I have been phoning these in a lot more lately than I used to resort to doing. I am almost loathe to update, as I think the previous entry was the first time I ever got three pages of posts, and it is hard to imagine when that will ever happen again. Still, goofy pictures of Johnny Damon are only funny for so long, as all things must change or risk stagnation.
Speaking of change, I need to find a new pic for my profile. I like to change them out after a certain period, if only for the sake of variation. Someone told me that they wanted to use my previous pic for themselves if I had ever discarded it, and I wish I could remember who it was so I could inform them it's all theirs now (I believe it was the photoshopped Zim pic, if anyone is keeping score). Shopping around for a new face will be another thing to keep me occupied in the wee hours.
I should really end here before I can think of anything else to say; the ideas have been flooding my mind the past few nights befween 3-8 am, but I've been fighting the urge until I can find enough space where I can afford to lose the sleep necessary to submit to the demiurge. Hopefully I can do some literary bleeding to relieve the pressure over Thanksgiving break if my skull doesn't burst beforehand. At any rate, my editor's email box will be an imcomprehensible mess by the time I'm done.
P.S. Has anyone noticed anything weird about the site since it got back online after the hack? Some of the pages seem to freeze up about halfway through loading, and this only seems to be happening on this site. Any word on this?
VIEW 5 of 5 COMMENTS
you = so cute!
oh and you're welcome