Saturday, October 16, 2010

Well I'm not sure if I'm coming back to the blogger world for awhile. I've been using livejournal like a fiend over the last couple of months...upgrading from the usual bitching that came on this blog to posting about one of my! If you'd like to move your little tushes over to my new "blog" feel free!

Wednesday, September 10, 2008 I have this song stuck in my head HARDCORE! Just thought I'd share.

Fall For You
By: Secondhand Serenade

The best thing about tonight's that we're not fighting
Could it be that we have been this way before
I know you don't think that I am trying
I know you're wearing thin down to the core

But hold your breathe
Because tonight will be the night
That I will fall for you
Over again
Don't make me change my mind
Or I won't live to see another day
I swear it's true
Because a girl like you is impossible to find
You're impossible to find

This is not what I intended
I always swore to you I'd never fall apart
You always thought that I was stronger
I may have failed but I have loved you from the start

Oh, But hold your breathe
Because tonight will be the night
That I will fall for you
Over again
Don't make me change my mind
Or I won't live to see another day
I swear it's true
Because a girl like you is impossible to find
It's impossible
So breathe in so deep
Breathe me in
I'm yours to keep
And hold on to your words
Cause talk is cheap
And remember me tonight
When you're asleep

Because tonight will be the night
That I will fall for you
Over again
Don't make me change my mind
Or I won't live to see another day
I swear it's true
Because a girl like you is impossible to find

Tonight will be the night
That I will fall for you
Over again
Don't make me change my mind
Or I won't live to see another day
I swear it's true
Because a girl like you is impossible to find
You're impossible to find

Friday, August 15, 2008

Conversations through e-mail with an old work buddy from BDD, Chris. Lol.

On Tue, Aug 5, 2008 at 11:48 AM, Linnenbach, Christopher wrote:

How was your 1st day? Did you report any punks for rules violations? Catch any stoners smoking in their room? Join them? Did you wish Mike luck on his interview today? How's your new crib? Are your coworkers as cool as I am? (hint: NO!) Can you believe this Olympics thing is actually kind of fun in a corny way? Do you suffer fools? What's your favorite kind of ice cream? Dogs or ferrets? Well that's all I have for now....or is it?!? (it is)

Warmest regards,
Chris Linnenbach, Disability Claims Adjudicator
Bureau of Disability Determination
Department of Labor & Industry
PO Box 8229
Harrisburg, PA 17104
Phone: 717-783-3620 ext323 Fax:866-880-8537

From: Nichole Baer []
Sent: Saturday, August 09, 2008 12:31 AM
To: Linnenbach, Christopher
Subject: Re: So many questions

So far everything has been a little insane. I'm just now getting pretty much my only "me" time, and I'm about ready to fall asleep in my chair! I don't get my residents until the 19th, but I'm getting trained on how to handle...275 freshman. They had to put me in a freshman building! My staff (of did I get to be a supervisor again?) will be arriving this Wednesday, God help them.

My co-workers couldn't possibly be as cool as you...(hint: yeah right. :P) My room is a bit small, but it works for me. Then again, it's free, so it really does work for me!

Ice Cream - Mint Chocolate Chip or Cookies and Cream, possibly both mixed together.


No fool suffering here!

Olympics! No! Fun? How did Bobaloo do?

On Fri, Aug 15, 2008 at 11:33 AM, Linnenbach, Christopher wrote:

As a devout Pastafarian, I will certainly pray to the Flying Spaghetti Monster for you. I was in Lancaster last weekend and was a little disappointed in the bars we went to. We ate dinner at Jacks and the owner cut us off after we ordered 5 Pabst pitchers in 30 min (there were 8 of us there, 7 of us obese). After that fiasco we went to quips. That was pretty chill until my friend got cut off. Now he did puke on the bar, but it was only because he couldn't stomach his car bomb (probably wasn't mixing well with the 2lbs of cheese fries). Thankfully the bartender disobeyed the boss and started serving him again.

I think you need to focus on the positives of freshmen. You get to sculpt (corrupt) their minds. Freshmen girls. Okay maybe that one doesn't appeal to you haha.

Mint Chocolate Chip = dog poop

Bobaloo Bobalost.....I won bronze in musical chairs!

And you were chosen as a supervisor due to your intelligence, responsible nature and good work ethic. (I have a new goal to offer a compliment during each conversation I have....pretty gay right?)

Not that gay...

Lol. And funny enough I will most likely be going to Jacks tonight. It's located near my campus. Corrupting minds is always a favorite of mine. Although Freshmen men...not so hot. Kind of eww...actually.

Mint Chocolate Chip is the bomb. So PS - You Suck.

And on a fun note: I had to go to a Alcohol symposium today with all of the RAs and GAs and PMs (not to be confused with a womanly cycle). We did nothing for 8 hours, ate some okay food, and rode in school buses. School buses = not fun. I don't remember them being so rough. I feel like I left my spine along the road.

And you would win Bronze in musical chairs. You probably elbowed everyone else out of the way, you evil elbower you!

You were chosen to be a Adjudicator because you are a hard ass, play lots of online games, and sing while you shower. See I can do compliments too. (So the last one wasn't a compliment per say, more like a judgment upon BDD employees.)


Tuesday, August 05, 2008

Alright, so I am almost moved in to my new apartment and boy am I TIRED! It's been a long couple of days packing, unpacking, and finding places for all my stuff. I ended up with the smallest staff apartment on campus...maybe 600 sq feet, 1 bdr, 1 bath, combination kitchen/dinning room/living room. I thought I'd be upset, but everything turned out okay. I like how bright and airy the place is! (Although storage for my stuff is a bit of an issue!)

My fellow staff members so far seem nice, and there hasn't been any drama so far. I'm hoping that will continue.

Thursday, July 31, 2008

Week 7 Prompt - "Goodbyes"

This week I did not go the creative route, but more of the thinking/reflection/journal route. My thoughts on leaving one job (BDD - Bureau of Disability Determination in Harrisburg, PA) for another (Graduate Assistant at Millersville University).

In the brief time that I have been away from BDD, discovering and hopefully completing my dreams I have to realize how amazing the individuals I worked with are. For the small amount of time I had the privilege to grace their presence they have enveloped me in their quirky and passionate ways, included me in their conquest, and made me feel apart of something...unique. I feel as if I have been both a student and a spectator to some of the most interesting and intelligent people that could ever be encountered.

It was never about being the same or having similar tastes. They say we are all different; that we all bring something special to the table. That can bot be any truer than at BDD. But it never seemed to matter who did what, knew who, or went where. Sure there were some rough patches where office gossip managed to run roughshod over everything else. Gossip is, however, superficial and fleeting, where personalties are not.

With each person I was free to express a small portion of my personality that when combined somehow created something larger than the whole. Each person left a mark, a bit of themselves that I will carry with me long past the time where my youth (as it is such) is but an ephemeral memory.

I tried my best at BDD not just because that is what I do, but for the people whom I worked with and around. I want to be the best for them. I tried to be the best version of myself for them. I am deeply touched by their kindness and generosity. I will not forget.

P.S. - Mike it is not foolish or weird. I consider you a friend. Please keep in touch.

Next Week's Prompt (Week 8):

You are stuck somewhere. Situation: Sticky air, dry gum, paper clips, and an explosion. MacGyver your way out of this situation.
"we do it for
the stars over the Bronx
that they may look on earth
and not be ashamed."

- Diane Di Prima
"April Fools Poem for my Grandpa"
Sir Winston quotes of the day

Never give in-never, never, never, never, in nothing great or small, large or petty, never give in except to convictions of honour and good sense. Never yield to force; never yield to the overwhelming might of the enemy.

Personally I'm always ready to learn, although I do not always like to be taught.

-Sir Winston Churchill

My Review of Karissa Total Bed Set™ - Raspberry

Originally submitted at Brylane Home

It's all here - a comforter, bedskirt, sheets and sham(s) - for one low price. Polyester/cotton; sheets are cotton/polyester. Machine wash/dry. Imported.

Karissa: Big, bountiful summertime blossoms make your room burst into bloom.

Total Bed Set™: includes polyfilled comforte...

It's better than it looks -

By spitfyre from Lancaster, PA on 7/31/2008


3out of 5

Pros: Attractive Design

Cons: Poor Fabric Quality, Difficult to Clean

Best Uses: Everyday Bedding

Describe Yourself: Practical

Okay, so I bought this set in blue and was going to use it in my guest room (wasn't exactly fond of it, but it was cheap and worked), but I ended up liking the design better than I thought. It's reversable and the other side is MUCH better than the one shown. Unfortuently because it was such a cheap set the stuffing in the comforter clumped like the other set I bought from here. It squished back down, but I most likely will not purchase again from this shop. P.S. - Sheets are very decorative.


My Review of Brick Striped Total Bed Set™ - Zone

Originally submitted at Brylane Home

Totally modern and totally affordable. Casually cool graduated printed stripes have the crisp, bold look of yarn dye. Front-tab window treatents add the finishing touch. Polyester/cotton. Machine wash; spot clean pillow. Imported.

Total Bed Set™: includes a polyfilled comforter, bedski...

Ugh...not the best in the wash

By spitfyre from Lancaster, PA on 7/31/2008


2out of 5

Pros: Attractive Design

Cons: Difficult to Clean, Poor Fabric Quality, Thin Threading

Best Uses: Everyday Bedding

Describe Yourself: Practical

I bought a cheap set to quickly furnish my new apartment, and I got exactly what I payed for. I washed the comforter and sheets right away to get that terrible plastic bag smell out, and the stuffing in the comforter clumped right up even with the gentle wash cycle. I squished it back down, but definetly am dreading the next time I have to wash it!


Thursday, July 24, 2008

Week 6 Prompt - Me

If I hear one more “you are the wind beneath my wings” I’m going to vomit. Literally. All over the floor and hopefully on Miss Suzie’s shoes. She’s a curmudgeon of a woman. 4.’11″, 80, and nosey as hell. I’m hope it has chunks. My vomit. Slouching in my chair I eyeball the happy couple. My best friend and my ex-fiancée together for ever. And their wedding song.

You Had Me From Hello.

Said hello came when I finally arranged for my life long best friend to meet my fiancée.

I hope they choke on the wedding cake. Or possibly get a tin can stuck in the wedding car’s exhaust pipe. Karma happens.

But apparently not for some time for me. In my peripherals I see Wes sidling closer to me avoiding Miss Suzie's pink taffeta monstrosity of a dress - no small feat. I try to edge away in the opposite direction only to trip on a bowling pin left over from some poor attempt of a dance ice breaker. I watch in a disinterested sort of way as the ballroom floor rushes up to catch me. In mid flight I feel a jerk and with a numb terror realize Wes had attempted to catch me by yanking on the purely decorative swash of fabric draped over one hip. A rip...and I was on the floor, dress less.

Honestly. Hasn't life screwed me over enough lately? Was it not enough that I had two parking tickets jammed in my glove compartment (one of which for parking in front of my own driveway) and had managed somehow last Friday to dump bleach into my jean load instead of detergent? Were male dogs always going to try and pee on my leg? Would it rain just as I leave the hairdressers?

Alright more to come later with this post. I'm feeling quite sick tonight having already spent a lovely few minutes contemplating life using the toliet bowl as my scrying mirror. More to come tomorrow!

Sunday, July 20, 2008

"In the depths of winter, I finally learned that within me lay an invincible summer."
-Albert Camus
Well in the loveliness that is my life I received a wonderful gift of a citation for 108 dollars. I wanted to scream. But I can't do anything half way. The cop pulled me over on Rhorestown Road on the way to a "board game" day in Harrisburg. I had yet to leave Lancaster, and was running a little behind although not drastically. I could not figure out why the heck I was stopped. I was going 10 beneath the speed limit following a van that, I assume, lost track of their gas pedal. And I, of course, was in mid McDonald's Breakfast sandwich bite, blaring my Linkin Park maybe a little too loud. I wasn't sure if I maybe broke a noise ordinance (although it was at 9.20 in the morning and I had thought those only lasted during the night), so I hastily turned my music down a bit.

The cop (who may I say was very nice looking and smelled great...damn hormones) cheerfully asked for license and registration and proof of insurance. I, of course, couldn't find any of it. My car is currently in quite a mess due to me cleaning it out and scrubbing it down this weekend.

And my insurance was out of date, my registration was out of date, and my license was almost dropped to the ground outside. When did these thing expire? Shouldn't I have gotten mail about it? Until I realized that my mail spread from here to York and back with me having no idea where half of the stuff is. Did I mention I hated the fact that I do not have a permanent address per say?

I think what topped the experience (aside for my entirely inappropriate manner of checking out the cop that cited me) was the fact that while waiting for him to decide to write me up I was like...hell, might as well make up for this shitty experience by pulling out my current paperback from my purse. And reading it. I think he thought I was insane when he finally managed to return my license and gift me with a 108 dollar present. Argh.

Saturday, July 19, 2008

Okay, so I'm sitting here watching a movie while I fold the last of my laundry (I often do this to prevent boredom in my task) when one of my favorite scenes of this movie occurs. I completely forgot about it as I have not seen this movie in several months when it was out in theaters. I just had to post it. This scene is from Elizabeth: The Golden Age.


Dr Dee watches as Elizabeth prowls his cluttered rooms,
releasing the tension that has swelled to bursting point
within her.

The fall of an empire, you told
me. Did you mean the English
empire? Because by God, England
will not fall while I am Queen!
If that's your prophecy, sir,
prophesy again!

You want me to tell your majesty
only what your majesty chooses to


May 1 Blue Draft -p.94

I will not be a toy of the fates!
Have I not faced an assassin's
bullet and lived?

She turns to Dr Dee and sees his quizzical gaze on her, and
she lets her rage pass.
Just tell me there's no
certainty. The shadows of ghosts,
you said. Any outcome is
possible. Give me hope.

The forces that shape the world
are greater than all of us,
majesty. How can I promise you
that they'll conspire in your
favour, even though you are the
Queen? But this much I know. When
the storm breaks, each man acts
in accordance with his own
nature. Some are dumb with
terror. Some flee. Some hide. And
some spread their wings like
eagles and soar on the wind.

Elizabeth understands. She draws herself up, finding now
the self-belief she needs for the battle to come.

You're a wise man, Dr Dee.

And you, madam, are a very great

My favorite part is when Dee talks about the nature of men. I go *SQEEE* when I hear this!
This week's post due Thursday is provided by Me! I have no idea where to go with it, but I figured I might as well start with something by simply posting the Prompt. As always, feel free to contribuate. I'll either post it on my blog (if you do not have one) or link your work back to your website/blog/etc! Enjoy

Week 6 Prompt

If I hear one more “you are the wind beneath my wings” I’m going to vomit. Literally. All over the floor and hopefully on Miss Suzie’s shoes. She’s a curmudgeon of a woman. 4.’11″, 80, and nosey as hell. I’m hope it has chunks. My vomit. Slouching in my chair I eyeball the happy couple. My best friend and my ex-fiancée together for ever. And their wedding song.

You Had Me From Hello.

Said hello came when I finally arranged for my life long best friend to meet my fiancée.

I hope they choke on the wedding cake. Or possibly get a tin can stuck in the wedding car’s exhaust pipe. Karma happens.
Week 5 Prompt provided by Mike

Use a character (or characters) from a preexisting work of fiction.

Mike's Response

You’re A Good Man, Lando Calrissian

You’re young, handsome and debonair. You have an innate fashion sense. I like you. I really do. You show so much promise. That’s why I called you into my office today.

You’re throwing your life away, Lando Calrissian. You hang out with the bad crowds. You know the types. The ones who think they’re so strapping in their beat-up white shirts and black vests. Space pirates. The dregs of society. You always wanted something more out of life. You wanted to be a lawyer. You wanted to go into politics. Those dreams will disappear in a flurry of Sabbacc and blaster fire.

Do you really want to be a card player? Gambler? Scoundrel?

I believe in you. You could do great things. You could become a governor! A senator! Baron administrator of any city you desire! Instead, you’re going to end up a corpse in the depths of Coruscant. A lifeless corpse. I should know. I’m a guidance counselor.

All you have to do is take the fist step. Better your situation. Get into the Imperial Academy. Then, after that’s taken care of, worry about going to grad school; taking your LSATS. You have the knowledge and charisma to win at whatever you do, but if all you want to do is spice and death sticks…I’m sorry for getting choked up, but it’s just so disappointing to see great promise go to waste.

Don’t even worry so much about the LSATS at this point. Baby steps, Mr. Calrissian. I can tell you’ve been losing sleep, and frankly I have too. Go on the straight and narrow. You’ll be able to stop worrying so much. You still have a chance. You will still have a future, unless your planet is destroyed by global warming or a Death Star.

To get to sleep, my grandmother used to go through the senate supreme chancellors in her head. Took her mind off other things, activated the memory instead of the active brain, etc. She could do it chronologically, reverse-chronologically, alphabetically, and reverse-alphabetically. If that didn’t work, she moved on to the grand moffs (who presumably bored her to sleep).

I guess what I’m saying is, if your mind is racing, get it racing to something inconsequential and boring. That’s why counting banthas works, at any rate.

Also, what I’m saying is that Darth Vader will blow up your planet and eat your children.

My Response

I also went the movie route like Mike above. Try to guess the “character” she utilized. I have to admit this is complete and utter crap written in five minutes for the goal of completing this week's prompt. Ugh. A character from Indiana Jones. Let me know if you can tell who. Did I mention that this was crap? Trash it, right away!

Hand-made from a small tannery in Louisiana. The best. Never faltering, always crackling. With energy.

The sound. *CRAAACCK* My one small pleasure.

This what I am. I was created to snap sharply, splitting air. To herd. To encourage submission of all wild beasts. Especially horses.

But this man. This odd, peculiar, chameleon is different. Asking not to submit great beasts (as small as I might be I am excellent at this), but to warn away those who would destroy the powerless. A Sidewinder, a rattler.

We threaten, guide, and then escape, evading short puffs of iron. A death defying waltz. Tap. Tap.

When I was created I expected my destiny to encourage great post carriages carrying vast treasures across the once great plains.

Instead, I sat unused, unacknowledged for years. Until one boy brought my destiny.

One boy that changed it all.

I have been to the end and back of this flat world. Pyramids. God. Aliens. Great treasures to tempt the saintly and knowledge to corrupt the incorruptible. He is neither. A scholar. And I have no desire to turn on him (as all eventually do). A weapon that is not…admiring a man dying from the disease of humanity. Then what will I be? What is left of old wrapped leather? A threat. A warning. Fading away in this world of machines.

Forgetting once that I was crafted by hand to become a conqueror. And yet I guide instead.
Week 4 Prompt provided by me!

An amnesiac man wakes up naked standing in the middle of Times Square at rush hour. He doesn’t know how he got there, and his only clue is an iPod strapped to his arm in a runners band. It contains the audiobook of Dante’s Inferno, a jingle for Wrigley’s, every work done by Beethoven, and the sound of a door shutting on an infinite loop.

Mike's response

My goal with this piece was to take the clearly “zany” prompt (chosen by my friend Nichole) and turn it into something poignant or at least serious.

Because symphonies are involved in the prompt, I decided to write in symphony form. I lost my interest in following symphonic form somewhere along the way, mainly because this is supposed to be a fun freewrite. I don’t believe I’ll be expanding upon this entry, but I’ll definitely keep the “symphony” form in mind for future writing–especially poetry.

Here is my entry.

Unfinished Symphony

First Movement (Allegro)

Overture. Open eyes. Pavement. Flesh. Strings swell.

Confusion. I look down and see my protrusion. Praying that it’s all an illusion; no obvious conclusion.

Motion. Locomotion. No emotion. Nothing but an ocean of commotion. Hustle; bustle; rush; no hush. I look down and blush. A nude, lewd dude waiting to be booed by some prude. Screwed.

Second Movement

So this must be amnesia. I know that much. In fact, for somebody who has forgotten everything, I seem to know quite a bit. I know that ball of feathers over there is a pigeon. I know that lump under the blankets is a homeless person (and I know that if I had money to give them, they would just spend it on alcohol). Nobody is reacting to my hideous nakedness, so I know that I am in New York. I can read the letters on the side of every building. “Toys ‘R’ Us” on my right; “TKTS” in the middle of the road. How can I know all of this, but I don’t remember my name?

How does the brain know what to forget?

Do I need some sort of visual stimulus to remind me? If my father is still alive and I see him walking down the street, will I recognize him? Does my brain file things in a “vault”-a sort of elementary school permanent record, locked away and never to be seen again? In amnesia, does my brain automatically forget personal information? Does it not want to remember?

You only “remember” the stuff you think about anyway. You don’t walk down the street and “remember” a duck, or even “remember” the fact that ducks exist. When you see a duck, you know. That’s when you truly believe. That’s when you truly believe in a duck. So maybe my brain is normal. There’s no vault. There’s no forgetting. There’s just me. I don’t want to think about my past, and so I do not remember my past. I don’t believe in my past, and I don’t believe in myself.

There is no Cornelius Weatherberry (which, for all I know, is my given name). There is only Naked Man, resplendent in his opalescent, paste-white glory.

What happened to my clothes? Don’t know, don’t care, don’t want to think about it. Why do I have this MP3 player strapped to my arm? Don’t know, don’t care, don’t want to think about it. I shuffle through the music like a coroner picking through the wallet of a body at a grisly crime scene. Every piece of available information can be used to identify the corpse. In my case: slim pickings. The abridged Inferno by Dante, divided into nine tracks to represent the nine circles of hell; the sound of a door shutting; the complete works of Ludwig Von Beethoven; the complete collection of Wrigley’s gum commercial jingles.

The eclectic mix of words, music, and sounds? Don’t know, care, et cetera. It’s the statement of a great mint. It’s Doublemint gum.

I chose Party Shuffle, because I bet I liked to party in my previous life.

Track one.

For such defects, and not for other guilt,
Lost are we and are only so far punished,
That without hope we live on in desire.”

Great grief seized on my heart when this I heard,
Because some people of much worthiness
I knew, who in that Limbo were suspended.

“Tell me, my Master, tell me, thou my Lord,”
Began I, with desire of being certain
Of that Faith which o’ercometh every error,

“Came any one by his own merit hence,
Or by another’s, who was blessed thereafter?”

Boring. SKIPPED.

Track two.

A door closes.

Track three.

Four notes. Over and over again. Beethoven’s fifth symphony. Boring. There are other notes, you see, than those four. Dum dum dum DUM! Dumb dumb dumb dumb; SKIPPED.

Track four.

A door closes.

Track five.

A door closes.

Track six.

When the exasperated soul abandons
The body whence it rent itself away,
Minos consigns it to the seventh abyss.

It falls into the forest, and no part
Is chosen for it; but where Fortune hurls it,
There like a grain of spelt it germinates.

It springs a sapling, and a forest tree;
The Harpies, feeding then upon its leaves,
Do pain create, and for the pain an outlet.

Like others for our spoils shall we return;
But not that any one may them revest,
For ’tis not just to have what one casts off.

Track seven.

Freedent Gum won’t stick to most dental work.

Track eight.

Of a new pain behoves me to make verses
And give material to the twentieth canto
Of the first song, which is of the submerged.

Boring. You are boring me.

Track nine.

So kiss a little longer
Hug a little longer
Stay close a little longer
Longer with Big Red.

I remember. A door closes.

Third Movement (Minuet and Trio)

Eyes. Blue-grey. Hair. Dark-brown. Kiss. Too-wet. Laughs. Too-dry. Smile. Wide-gapped.

Gone for-good.

Drink too-much. Strip to-none. Climb too-high. Jump too-far. Land on-head.

Fourth Movement (Rondo)

So laugh a little longer
Make it last a little longer
Give your breath long lasting freshness-
With Big Red!

My Entry

Okay, I wasn’t intentionally trying to direct this piece, but for some reason it decided at last minute it wanted to be a part of last weeks challenge. Oh well. And for those of you who aren’t familiar with Norse mythology, here’s a little bit on the ones I mentioned.

Loki is the god of mischief. He is often portrayed as an evil god or at the very least, one that has a screwed up moral compass. He is often the nemeses of Thor and Odin.

Odin is the Norse equivalent of Zeus. He’s the head of the pantheon and father to Thor among others. Odin is the god of War, Death, Poetry and Wisdom.

Muninn is one of the two ravens that belong to Odin. Muninn is memory and the other, Huginn, is thought. These two travel the world everyday and return to Odin every night to sit on his shoulder and tell him what they saw and heard.

Thor is the god of Thunder and while that does not sound particularly powerful, Thor is one of the most powerful gods in the Norse pantheon. He is also a well liked god because unlike Odin he does not require human sacrifice. Thor is known as a protector from evil for both human and gods.

And now to the response…

I found out that hard way that shutting your eyes is not an effective way to hide. But it was my only defense. It worked for five year olds, it could work for me…right? My head ached in tune with my heart. Thump, thump, thump. Wait a minute. What the.

The wind picks up a bit shivering around my dangly bits, and slaps a small cord against my arm. A small cord that leads to a iPod strapped high up on, if I may say so myself, a well muscled bicep. My headache intensified as I concentrated on the thumping which strangely enough was not that of my heart as I first assumed, but that of what sounded like a door. A door that was stuck in a permanent loop of slamming shut and then open and then shut again.

Flashing light caught my attention and I looked up to watch two patrol cars screeching to a painful, jolting halt. Three cops pushed through a Japanese couple who were tacking frantic pictures in my direction and a teenager with an obscenely color blinding combination of clothing chomping on a rather large wad of gum. I watched them stomp closer calmly. Why was I calm? Why shouldn’t I be? It’s not like I could successfully run away and hide. I was naked. Completely and utterly bare. And I had no reason to feel guilty. I didn’t even know where the hell I was, not to mention all the other minor things in life. Such as a name, a history, I.D., etc.

(Skip rest of scene - to police station - finish later)

The station on 43rd was as cold and barren as one would expect. It was also raucous which completely eclipsed the slightly guilty feeling creeping up in my throat. Did I do anything bad recently? Not anything I knew about, but hell, feeling guilty must be what normal people felt when they entered a police station and I wasn’t going to be any different than anyone else. (At least I thought normal people felt such emotion upon entering a station, but as things stood I really had no idea.)

Officer McAllister, a petite woman with flint grey eyes gave me a look that made my testicles pull up underneath my scratchy emergency blanket. I am pathetic. I stood up straighter towering over her quite unintentionally. And then stepped back as her look became every scarier. This woman probably ate alligators live…for breakfast. Breakfast of champions.

The remaining two officers (out of the three sent to arrest me), including the alligator lady, directed me towards a room on the far end of the station. We had to step over two fallen chairs (victims in a war involving a man waving a stapler in a most threatening fashion) and detour around a lady that had managed to stick an entire wad of dripping toilet paper to her forehead. It slid slowly towards her right temple. I don’t think a naked man is the police’s biggest concern at the moment. And to be fair. I’m no longer naked. I have a toga…made out of a scratchy wool blanket, but still a toga.

Two men in cheap black suits swung from suspended fluorescent lights. I craned my head around Officer Nielsen (a hulking example of broad muscles and blonde hair) to watch a complicated release maneuver that failed and landed the man directly into a small trash can, butt first. My fascination with the stuck man faded though when I was shoved directly into the small room and shut the door.


“You’ve got to be kidding me.” A tired voice second my unspoken thought of ‘what the hell.’

A man giggled. “Nope.”

I gave a brief look to the nondescript man in a colorful tie standing in the corner. He was giving me an unsettling grin so wide that I could see all four of his canines. Just a bit creepy. I quickly shifted attention to the other man in the room. Tired brown eyes watched me before switching to the creep.

“He’s going to help me stop Ragnarök?”

Hold up…what? What does that mean?

The creepy dude cackled and the hair on my arms stood up and did the hula. No I’m serious. They did.

“Loki.” The man at the desk was angry. I was confused. And concerned. And a tiny bit cold. Hey! I’m half naked here.

The iPod sudden switched to a monotone voice. “There is no greater sorrow/Than to be mindful of the happy time/In misery.”

“What the hell?” I scrabbled at my makeshift toga unintentionally flashing the creepy man in my haste to reach the long forgotten iPod (that had still been opening and shutting a door continuously). I twisted my arm about and looked the display safe in it’s clear plastic case. It read.

Dante’s Inferno. Longfellow Translation. Inferno (V, 121).

I glanced at Loki who had suddenly become solemn. He directed his next phrase to the tired man. “He’s one of Odin’s, Muninn.”

The other man sighed. “An amnesiac man. Ironic.”
Week 3 Prompt Provided by Mike

My attempts at reason and quiet diplomacy fell on deaf ears as they began to wrap themselves in toilet paper from head to foot and chant “We want women.” I retreated to the relative quiet of my room and read the writing of a monk who lived alone on a mountaintop for thirty-seven years in search of a deeper understanding of the world. His main conclusion, when he came down, was that you can see very far on top of a mountain unless it is cloudy. Imprisoned for his radical ideas, he died several years later in jail. The only writing from this time period that survived is the line: “There are no clouds in a prison.”

-From The Autobiography of F.B.I. Special Agent Dale Cooper: My Life, My Tapes (as heard by Scott Frost)

Mike's Response

Inspiration is a funny thing. This week it was my turn to pick a theme, and I thought this one was pretty neat. I sat here and stewed over the prompt, and then I began writing. I guess what I’m saying is, don’t judge me for coming up with a piece that is all about poop jokes, and which has no tangible ties to the actual prompt. The piece did spring from the prompt (in some twisted way), but that’s about where it stops.

This is a dialogue, which I may use in the future and may not. Either way, it’s plain to see that I need to work on the unnatural nature of my dialogue.

Untitled Dialogue


A: How’s summer camp?

B: Stephanie just came into my cabin to talk to me, except I was in the bathroom pooping. It was…

A: Bizarre.

B: …bizarre. It was bizarre. It was bizarre.

A: I know just what you mean. The other day my boss pissed at the urinal next to mine. Started talking about American Idol.

B: Weird.

A: I know. I don’t even watch American Idol, but I had to play along. He’s my boss.

B: Uh huh.

A: Plus, things would have gotten weird if I’d stopped him.

B: He was talking to you while you were urinating.

A: Oh.

B: Weird, right?

A: Yeah. Time and a place, man. Time and a place.

B: Uh huh.

A: What did Stephanie talk to you about?

B: I told her there were alligators in the shower house.

A: That doesn’t make sense.

B: It does not. There were not alligators in the shower house. Just a plumbing problem.

A: Yep.

B: In case you were wondering, alligators do not live at this camp.

A: Yeah, no. I am aware of the alligator situation in central Pennsylvania and it is quite dire.

B: Really.

A: Did it strike you at all to make as many loud farts as possible? You know. End the conversation in one foul swoop.

B: I think you mean ‘fell swoop.

A: No, it would most decidedly be foul.

B: Well I didn’t. I felt self-conscious and stopped.

A: Oh. I would poop extra hard.


My Response

My attempts at reason and quiet diplomacy fell on deaf ears as they began to wrap themselves in toilet paper from head to foot and chant “We want women.” I retreated to the relative quiet of my room and read the writing of a monk who lived alone on a mountaintop for thirty-seven years in search of a deeper understanding of the world. His main conclusion, when he came down, was that you can see very far on top of a mountain unless it is cloudy. Imprisoned for his radical ideas, he died several years later in jail. The only writing from this time period that survived is the line: “There are no clouds in a prison.”

The relative quiet became real quiet as a sudden hush made the skin beneath my fingernails crawl. I looked up from my dog eared college textbook to see a pudgy face pressed against my glass door, lips bloated obscenely against the glass. And was that a wiggling tongue? Well it at least explained my co-workers behavior in the lunch room, and the evidence room, and the records room. Contrary to popular belief FBI agents did not spend their work day hanging from fluorescent lights or chanting about their desire for women. Especially, Alice Cooper. She was six months pregnant with her second child by the same man. Somehow I doubted she wanted women.

The grotesque face pulled away from the glass to show a fairly nondescript man. Shit brown hair, coal eyes, and a green polka dot tie decorated the man, who wasn’t really a man. Okay, so not as nondescript as I first thought, but to be fair his clothing choice was the only thing making him stand out at all. I looked wearily at the textbook before closing it with a loud WHACK. I waved him in and avoided watching him move. He looked human, but didn’t move like one. It always made me a little queasy watching muscles and bones move where there shouldn’t have been either.

One gum covered sole rubbed goo onto my desk and I gave it and it’s owner a look. A chuckle that echoed with hundreds of voices was all I got for my effort. The shoe remained.

“What do you want? And my co-workers?”

Loki shrugged. “They’re enjoying themselves. And we want the usual my nephew.” He smiled widely showing dagger like teeth. “We want you to stop Ragnarök.”

Well it wasn’t every day the god of Mischief asked you to save his life. This definitely topped my captain growing donkey ears during a meeting with NSA.
Past Prompts and Responses...

Week 1 Prompt and responses.

Prompt Peering through Venetian blinds I got my first look at the fuchsia demons. They perched innocently upon my Kentucky Blue in numbers approaching a hundred. Pink Flamencos. Evil in plastic form.

In Florida there is a boy scout fund raising gimmick where they stick a lot of plastic flamencos into some persons yard. They helpfully provide a sign stating “You have been Flocked by Troop#___” And then you are asked to “donate” to the troop in return for having the flamencos removed from your lawn.

My Response

At a later date will be added.

Mike's Response

Tar and Feathers

I pull down a slat in my Venetian blinds. Behind the blinds: nothing but a sea of blazing pink swimming with vacant, black eyes. Maybe a tree here or a rock there. Some grass–Kentucky Blue. But mostly just plastic pink flamingos standing ever-motionless with legs crossed in figure-fours. Fuschia demons basking in both the brightness of stagnant Frankfurt sunlight and the joy of blinding me.

The neighbors must be going batshit insane. The neon birds clash with the peeling, pale-blue paint of my ranch house like some terrible cotton candy concoction. Nothing I can do about it now.

There was a time when I could have stopped it. I would look through the blinds every morning to see houses and fields and sky and eventually, in some far-off place I’d never venture–mountains.

Then it was there.

Just a stupid lawn ornament. Some idiot kid probably stole it off the three-square-foot lawn in front of some ramshackle trailer from that community outside of town that’s filled with so many telephone poles it’s practically canopied with wires. It wasn’t worth the time and mental anguish to leave my house and remove the eyesore. Over the ensuing days, the collection grew and grew and grew and grew and all I could do was stare through the slats. Now there’s nothing else. Only pink.

There’s an old folktale about the creation of the earth. My mom used to read it to me at bedtime. Some ancient deity created the world in seven days. He started with the land, followed shortly thereafter by the sea and the sky. Threw some plants into the mix–palm trees and potatoes and those stupid spiky things that get stuck to your clothes. Then he created the animals, starting with the dumber amoebas and working his way through bark beetles, buzzing bumblebees, teeny-weeny mice, redheaded woodpeckers, bushy-tailed squirrels, raccoons with masks, until finally he ended with humans. Then he created Richard the Lionhearted, Napoleon Bonaparte, Winston Churchill, John F. Kennedy, Colonel Sanders, and your grandma. On the seventh day, he was exhausted so he took a vacation. On the eighth day, he realized that the teenagers had nobody to make fun of, so he created me.

No matter where I go, the hooligans always find me. The teens tire pretty quickly of the dumb old favorites–ding-dong-ditch, poo-in-a-flaming-bag, what-have-you–and come up with some dumb new favorites to take their place. They place fresh fish under the windshield wipers of my beat-up old Plymouth Breeze, so that when I eventually exit my house the fish are baked onto the window, covered with flies, and filled with maggots. No matter where I go. I seem to be made to suffer. It’s my lot in life.

I look back out the window. Can it be that there’s even more pink than previously? It’s hard to tell now. There are so many birds. Where are these things coming from? Kids must be calling all K-Marts across the country looking for damned lawn ornaments.

My pops used to tell me tales of amazing rains. Once, he told me, the world was actually covered entirely in water. Some vengeful god was tired of the sex and the drugs and the rock and roll, so he pissed all over the earth until everybody drowned. Then, one guy and his wife repopulated the whole of humanity. He saved us from drowning in water, but doomed us to an eternity drowning in overpopulation–an ocean full of incest-bred siblings.

My pops used to tell me lots of tales. Used to drink a lot of whiskey, too.

My refrigerator hums to me. I hum back. Passes the time. I used to sing, but I forgot the words. I’ve been speaking later and later in the day. Sometimes I don’t talk ’til maybe eight o’clock at night. Later. Never. Doesn’t matter. Not much that can’t be said with a well-placed grunt. Or a hum.

A rustle. Brief. Then longer. Louder. Longer. Louder. This is not a normal sound. It is not the humidifier; the furnace; the mice; the humming. This is papers shuffling–an ever-nearing taxtime accountant. The rustling gets louder and louder until my windows shake. Until my teeth shake.

Just as creation myths are made for every belief system, destruction myths are par for the course. I’m a little bit muddier on them, just because everyone in my family died before they could finish reading that book. Or maybe they just got bored around the part where everybody begat everybody else. I think the end of the world will have something to do with a team of horses, and a big fire.

The noise is coming at me now. There’s not much left of the windows, and not much left of my teeth. Feathers are everywhere, pink and glorious and beautiful and horrifying. And those eyes–those eyes, black as coal, judging me and my every thought. My face is bloodied and oozing from wounds I didn’t know I’d gotten. Maybe they’d always been there. When was the last time I looked in a mirror, anyway? Must have been years ago, shortly after I’d seen that first bird. The Alpha Bird. I close my eyes. I open them. I close my eyes. I open them again. The noise is still here. Nothing has changed. Nothing ever changes.

I close my eyes and open them one last time. I spy the door. I make my way through the noise and through the feathers, and I step outside.
I've missed writing in a blog so I return to the scene. Alas I have nothing new to report. Okay, that's a lie. Let's see...since my last blog

1) my mother has remarried to a man named Mike
2) they moved to Hellam, PA, near York with my two sisters and my dog (I am most sorry about the absence of my dog)
3) I gained two step-sisters who will henceforth be called my sisters due to my utter hatred of the word "step". Their names are Courtney and Erin, with Erin being the oldest at 18 and Courtney the younger at, I believe, 16 (but I could be wrong about that one.)
4) Erin is pregnant and due in November. A girl. I'm knitting a blanket. Very slowly mind since I'm terrible at handicrafts. Maybe I should request Emily's help. She can weave.
5) Cassidy (middle sister -18) graduated from Hempfield High School, works for Lancaster General Hospital as a Unit Clerk in the ER, and is faithfully dating Brandon who is a member of the PA Army National Guard. He may, or may not, be deploying with his unit in January to Iraq.
6) Olivia is starting at a new school (North Hills I believe) in August. She'll be in 6th grade.
7) Sarah (best friend #1) finished with basic and is also a member of PA National Guard. She's a Rad Tech and currently away for summer training. She'll be back on the 27th of this month. She will be deploying with her unit to Iraq.
8) I am living with my Aunt and Uncle (Candace and Ken) for two months (June and July) until I start my new job.
9) Currently I am working for the Bureau of Disability Determination (a branch of SSA) as a Clerk Typist. The job is in Harrisburg and is mediocre, but it sometimes pays the bills.
10) I'm starting a new job with Millersville University on August 1st. I get a two bedroom apartment, free tuition, and a paycheck. Whoot!
11) I have 10 months left in my MA degree in History.
12) I will be attending law school in 1 undetermined.

If I think of anything else that has changed I'll mention in future posts. As of now my eyes are crossing with boredom.

Let's see what else to update? Oh, well a friend from work, Mike (no relation to my mom's husband) and I have started writing in response to weekly prompts. Due every Thursday. I like. I'll be posting the prompt, my response, and Mike's for the time being on my blog for the foreseeable future. Mike's blog Ugly Food for an Ugly Dude will have links to anyone else who would like to post. As always, people are more than welcome to comment and/or participate. On to the posts.

Thursday, March 16, 2006

Well, I've pretty much decided to head back to Florida for grad school. Nothing set in stone yet, but I just can't get my mind of the idea of returning. I know it's not home anymore, but it's not like I'm too attached to Lancaster, anyway. I never fit into the lifestyle here. I'm too..."free-spirited."

What school will I attend? Ah...I'm thinking UF...go gators. Yes, Penn State fans I like the gators on top of Penn State. Let's face it. They've got a better record, at least, most of the time.

The only problem with moving to Florida? That is besides leaving behind all my friends for the 4th time (in addition this time to my family)? I'd live closer to my dad, and we don't exactly get along most of the time. Something to do with me thinking that he's an asshole. But hey, everyone's got their problems right?

Sleep tight everybody. Good luck Sarah! Whoop some ass in basics.

Sunday, March 05, 2006

My current frustration, or better put, my ongoing frustration, is what I will do a year from now. That's when I graduate with a degree from Penn State. I feel no more prepared now than three years ago to go into the "real world" as it's often referred to. My greatest problem is not a lack of motivation as would be ascribed to me from an uninformed passerby. The problem is that I want to do too much. When I look at future job postings, master and Ph.D. programs at different schools, I can see myself in equal measures involved with all of them. I find it difficult to pin hole myself into just one career when I see life as one continuous movement and adjustments. I don't want to spend my entire life doing the same thing in the same place. Boring.

The easiest way to breakdown what I am going to do is to list the things I want to do with my life and see which "path" matches the best. Here we go.

1. Travel.
2. Learn foreign languages, preferrably in foreign countries. (Any country would do.)
3. Involved in creating policies, not just living by them.
4. Follow my personal beliefs and not have to suppress them because of policies of organizations I'm involved with.
5. Be proud of the organization I'm involved in.

6.(And most important) Be Happy. Everything else is exchangable...except for compromising who I am...which is a part of being happy.

For now, I'm resigned to look at several scores of academic programs and a much smaller handful of job outlooks. I think for now I'm heading for a Master's, but in what and where is still up in the air. Till next time. Adios.

Wednesday, March 01, 2006

My mother is a nursing student in her final semester of clinicals. Last weekend she did a round in the Psyche ward, where she encountered an interesting individual that was just begging to be described in this journal. (Names, places, etc. have been left out to be kind to the patient and hospital involved.)

Patient was in her late 50s, early 60s. She was suffering from schizophrenic episodes. Insisted that she had been born a boy and had been forced to become a girl. She states that she has a 2 and 1/2 foot penis, and that it is 3 and 1/2 foot long when erect. Asks frequently if she is pregenant. States to my mother that the daytime nursing students were trying to poision her. They knew that she was a recovering alcoholic and that they doused her food in alcohol. Also thinks daytime nursing students are FBI agents out to get her.
It came to my mind todady that even though I profess to be a liberal democrat, I also share similar values to that of moderates and conservatives. This is in no way insinuating that I am not a liberal, quite the contray, I have more liberal views than ever. I just thought it would be interesting to list what I support in each "category" of U.S. political thought.

Liberal Views

diversifying energy resources. i.e.- ethanol 85 for cars, hydroelectric, solar power for homes, etc.

compulsorary education until the 12th grade

free higher education, or at least more government support

removal of U.S. troops from Iraq

dislike for the NRA

cheaper healthcare (ideally national healthcare, but I don't think that would work for this country, too big)

Moderate Views

amendment to constitution limiting President's ability to go to war. Congress is supposed to handle this.

Conservative Views

belief in gun ownership as a right. (Guns really don't kill people, people kill people. This is not to say I support the NRA, I actually can't stand them.)

No Child Left Behind (except this time with promised funding, this way state's don't have to remove aid from colleges)

Tuesday, January 31, 2006


We are a people who have a predetermined fate. We are expected to live by the mistakes of our forefathers, expanding Manfest Destiny to it's ultimate fate. We are a people who are lost in the grand scheme of things.

We have no united history and our future is flayed apart by the fathers that throw us haphardzardly into the fire of war.

We are a generation that is already paying a back tax on lives that we have not lived. We are a generation that rocks harder, parties longer, and dances long past closing time. We are a generation that wastes time because we are afraid of starting out like our fathers and grandfathers. We are a generation that does not know what to do with the sparse penny handed to us; where did our inhertience run off to?

Monday, January 02, 2006

Your element is Fire: Strong, hot tempered,
powerful, and passionate. Well now lets see,
being fire you are quite strong and powerful be
it mentally, physically or both. People look up
to you greatly and often seek your protection.
You have the ability to gain many friends and
you are always one people can count on to do
what you say you will do. You are extremely
loyal, be it friends or family you'll stick up
for them and you are never willing to put them
in a position that could hurt them. You know
what roll you play in life, leader, and you
intend to let people know it. Not everyone is
capable of leadership but you certainly have
the willpower and flare to do it. You have
quite a temper if it shows itself, one that can
often lead you into trouble. Once your mind is
made up there is no changing it but no one said
that was a bad thing.

.:-|What is your true element?|-:. -With Anime Pictures and detailed answers-
brought to you by Quizilla

Wednesday, November 09, 2005

A bit of drabble...

Glass distorted by rain muted the colors of the store front displays. I crossed my eyes dispasionately rearranging the droplets into circus animals, or maybe a seasgull. I could see him cawing towards the pounding waves. A sigh rose unbidden from my chest as my eyes uncrossed. Is this all that there was? Would I be endlessly waiting for something to happen, something to bring meaning to my life of averageness? Depression raised it's ugly head snapping at the very few morsels of hope left. I was tired of my life, tired of ecking out a few pennies to pay the neverending bills. Tired of not living, but existing, only worrying about which bill to pay this month, electric or water.

Saturday, October 01, 2005

The Keys to Your Heart

You are attracted to those who are unbridled, untrammeled, and free.

In love, you feel the most alive when your lover is creative and never lets you feel bored.

You'd like to your lover to think you are optimistic and happy.

You would be forced to break up with someone who was ruthless, cold-blooded, and sarcastic.

Your ideal relationship is open. Both of you can talk about everything... no secrets.

Your risk of cheating is zero. You care about society and morality. You would never break a commitment.

You think of marriage something you've always wanted... though you haven't really thought about it.

In this moment, you think of love as commitment. Love only works when both people are totally devoted.

Friday, June 24, 2005

Destiny is what you are supposed to do in life. Fate is what kicks you in the ass to do it.

- Henry Miller

Monday, May 02, 2005

So I haven't updated in a while, so I thought I would leave part of the script from an episode of West Wing I watched tonight. It's from the 3rd season in the episode called...100,000 airplanes. I thought it was very amusing...especially at the end of this verbal sparring.

JOSH What are you doing?

DONNA I'm trying to figure out if you have to pay for the plane ticket to Phoenix.

JOSH It was official travel.

DONNA Yeah, well, that doesn't really seem to make a difference...

JOSH What does the rule say?D

onna sits back down, sighs, and reads from the big book.

DONNA An employee may not use contract airline/rail passenger service provided under the contract with the General Services Administration. See part 301-15 subpart B of this chapter.

JOSH What's the problem?

DONNA Well, let's set aside that there's no subpart B. The rest of it uses a sentence structure with which I'm not familiar.

JOSH [starts for his office] Just put it on my credit card.

DONNA No. See, I think this is what it's designed to do. I think it's designed to break a person's spirit.

JOSH And damn it, that's my job.

DONNA We're getting beat by the system.

JOSH We are the system.

DONNA We suck.

JOSH Yes. I need the welfare-to-work memo.

Josh reaches his office. Donna turns to the hallway and meets Toby, who has been walking very slowly, seeming very distracted.

DONNA How many words in the Gettysburg address?

TOBY 266.

DONNA And the Ten Commandments?

TOBY 173.

DONNA So you really wouldn't think you'd need 6000 to discover how a plane ticket gets reimbursed.



Donna walks off.

Saturday, April 09, 2005

Went home for the weekend, and I'm already more relaxed. Even not being on my own terms for the weekend doesn't have me all tense like usual. I'm not flinching at every sound in my dorm. I'm not there to worry about it. I'm not checking my voice mails to make sure I'm not going to be yelled at. Don't have to worry about duty or meeting committments. I'm just here. Doing homework, taking my sisters out, applying for a new job, and hanging out with some old friends at our old hang out. Just what the doctor ordered. It's sad when being away from school, my old sanctuary, is now a relief.

It is weird though, not having Shadow around. I open the door and expect her to be there to greet me and she's not. I go to bed at night and don't hear her sigh as she too settles in for the night. It's very disturbing. For the last 10 years of my life, almost every night spent at home was also spent with Shadow. I'd whistle for her before I would go to bed and wait at the door as she trotted up the steps. It was my, it's just a memory. Strange how life can change so fast. In a moment everything is different.

Jeff is having a hard time lately. With two more of his best friends gone, he's devestated and withdrawn. Jeanine and I worry about him almost nonstop. Why does the world not give this kid a break?

The other night I had a horrible dream that I couldn't wait to wake up from. Tangled in my sheets and panting with exertion, I only barely managed to rip myself away from the horrifing scenes. Three of my friends died in various ways. One I can't remember who it was, the others were Pete (from Sweetwood) and Jeff. Jeff, I can actually remember how he died. I can remember how devestated I was. Crashed into a pole and flipped his car in a Target parking lot. What a way to go.

As I talked to him Friday afternoon, that scene kept repeating in my mind. I didn't want to say anything for fear that he would laugh at my concern, but I had to say something. I resorted to turning back to him when I almost left and told him to be careful. Somehow that just didn't cover what I wanted to say. There is nothing I can do about it now.

So, I leave with a simple message.

Take care to live in the moment. You don't know how fleeting it will be.

Thursday, April 07, 2005

Favorite Scene from Boondock Saints.

The Courtroom

Conner MacManus: Now you will receive us.

Murphy MacManus: We do not ask for your poor or your hungry.

Conner MacManus: We do not want your tired and sick.

Murphy MacManus: It is your corrupt we claim.

Conner MacManus: It is your evil that will be saught by us.

Murphy MacManus: With every breath we shall hunt them down.

Conner MacManus: Each day we will spill their blood ‘til it rains down from the skies.

Murphy MacManus: Do not kill, do not rape, to not steal. These are principles, which every man of every faith
can embrace.

Conner MacManus: These are not polite suggestions, these are codes of behavior and those of you that ignore them will pay the dearest cost.

Murphy MacManus: There are varying degrees of evil. We urge you lesser forms of filth not to push the bounds and cross over into true corruption, into our domain.

Conner MacManus: But if you do you, one day you will look behind you and you will see we three, and on that day, you will reap it.

Murphy MacManus: And we will send you to whatever god you wish.

All three: And shepherds we shall be, for thee my Lord for thee, power hath descended forthfrom thy hand, that our feet may swiftly carry out thy command. We shall flow a river forth to thee, and teeming with souls shall it ever be.

Il Duce: In nomine patrie,

Conner MacManus: Et fili

Murphy MacManus: Spiritus sancti

Saturday, April 02, 2005

Old quotes from my buddy info.

"A real friend is one who walks in when the rest of the world walks out." -Walter Winchell

"Although prepared for martyrdom, I preferred that it be postponed." -Winston Churchill, Sir

"In time of war the first casualty is truth." -Boake Carter

"A man may die, nations may rise and fall, but an idea lives on." -John F. Kennedy

"I wanted you to see what real courage is, instead of getting the idea that courage is a man with a gun in his hand. It's when you know you're licked before you begin but you begin anyway and you see it through no matter what." -Harper Lee

Tuesday, March 29, 2005

Current Away Message:

I miss the one who could make me smile through anything. I miss my best friend who was there through it all. I miss the playful nudges that brought me out of my funks. I miss the howling and woofing in excitment...just to go outside. I miss the friend who chased lizards. I miss the friend who attacked water sprinklers. I miss the the friend who had more courage than I could ever dream of. I miss my faithful Shadow who was put asleep yesterday afternoon.

Monday, March 28, 2005

Shadow was put to sleep tonight.

Cassidy: nichole?

My away message: Class time...

Cassidy: they put her to sleep...

Cassidy: shes gone

Thursday, March 24, 2005

Birthdays, I think, are the most depressive days of the year. Not so much for what other people may say like, "I feel so alone." No, its not like that. I don't feel alone on my birthday, I feel unimportant. You wake up thinking that this is going to be the best day of your year, and yet it rarely happens that way.

Most times the day passes by without many seeing that yes it is your birthday, at least not without a reminder. I hate my birthday generally. You look around on this "special day" and see that everything is the same and everything will stay the same.

You don't turn a year older one day. You spend the whole year turning a year older and are just too busy to realize it. That is why I think birthdays are the most depressive day of the year.

Wednesday, March 23, 2005

Alright, Ms. Comment Stalker. Since you won't come forward and tell me who you are and what your problem is, I'm going to do it the hard way. The way that I am extremely good at. So I'll tell you a little what I know about you now. You attend or know someone who attends Geneva College in Beaver Falls, PA. You used their internet service to go online to leave a comment. The actual location of the computer that you used is in Ellwood City, PA. I hope you have a nice day.

Tuesday, March 22, 2005

It's really hard to understand ignorance. Even harder to understand what the hell people are talking about when they are vague. It's even more annoying when they don't state their name so I can at least figure out what's going on.

A couple of entries ago someone left a comment that states: "dude..way to take someone elses man..That is so wrong..especially when he meant the world to someone else... Think before you do...And remember what goes around comes around!!!!"

I would love to know what's going on since I'm not seeing anyone at all, for last couple years I haven't dated steady with anyone. So excuse me if I'm a little confused by this message. Whoever left it, please message again so I know what the hell you are talking about.

I would love to "think before I do," but unfortuently have no idea whats going on, so I couldn't possibly "think" about it.

"And what goes around comes around?" Please, we are not in elementry school and I don't appreciate being threatened in such a childish way. If you are going to threaten least be creative. Is that too much to ask?
I finally got to watch an episode of West Wing last night (and paid dearly with having to stay up late again). I love that show, but I particularly like this episode. Episode three of the second season entitled "Midterms." So I am going to put in my favorite quote from this episode. Enjoy.

He sighs, and addresses Jenna Jacobs again.

BARTLET Forgive me, Dr. Jacobs. Are you an M.D.?




BARTLET In Psychology?


BARTLET Theology?


BARTLET Social work?

JENNA JACOBS I have a Ph.D. in English Literature.

BARTLET I'm asking, 'cause on your show, people call in for advice and you go by the name of Dr. Jacobs on your show. And I didn't know if maybe your listeners were confused by that, and assumed you had advanced training in Psychology, Theology, or health care.

JENNA JACOBS I don't believe they are confused, no sir.

BARTLET Good. I like your show. I like how you call homosexuality an abomination.

JENNA JACOBS I don't say homosexuality is an abomination, Mr. President. The Bible does.

BARTLET Yes, it does. Leviticus.


BARTLET Chapter and verse. I wanted to ask you a couple of questions while I had you here. I'm interested in selling my youngest daughter into slavery as sanctioned in Exodus 21:7. (small chuckles from the guests) She's a Georgetown sophomore, speaks fluent Italian, and always clears the table when it was her turn. What would a good price for her be?

While thinking about that, can I ask another? My Chief of Staff, LeoO McGarry, insists on working on the Sabbath, Exodus 35:2, clearly says he should be put to death. Am I morally obligated to kill him myself or is it okay to call the police?

Here's one that's really important, 'cause we've got a lot of sports fans in this town. Touching the skin of a dead pig makes us unclean, Leviticus 11:7. If they promise to wear gloves, can the Washington Redskins still play football? Can Notre Dame? Can West Point?

Does the whole town really have to be together to stone my brother, John, for planting different crops side by side? Can I burn my mother in a small family gathering for wearing garments made from two different threads?

Jenna Jacobs fidgets uncomfortably.

BARTLET Think about those questions, would you? One last thing, while you may be mistaking this for your monthly meeting of the Ignorant Tightass Club, in this building, when the President stands, nobody sits.

Jenna Jacobs squirms in her seat but doesn't rise.

Bartlet glares meaningfully at her.

She finally rises out of her seat.


TOBY Yes, Mr. President.

BARTLET That's how I beat him.

Friday, March 18, 2005

I really don't like when people look down upon me.

I also really don't like when people tell me when or when I can't leave a room.

Monday, March 14, 2005

Subject: Let's see if you send it back. We all know or knew someone like this!!

One day, when I was a freshman in high school, I saw a kid from my class was walking home from school. His name was Kyle. It looked like he was carrying all of his books. I thought to myself, "Why would anyone bring home all his books on a Friday? He must really be a nerd."

I had quite a weekend planned (parties and a football game with my friends>tomorrow afternoon), so I shrugged my shoulders and went on. As I was walking, I saw a bunch of kids running toward him. They ran at him, knocking all his books out of his arms and tripping him so he landed in the dirt. His glasses went flying, and I saw them land in the grass about ten feet from him. He looked up and I saw this terrible sadness in his eyes. My heart went out to him. So, I jogged over to him and as he crawled around looking for his glasses, and I saw a tear in his eye. As I handed him his glasses, I said, "Those guys are jerks. They really>should get lives."

He looked at me and said, "Hey thanks!" There was a big smile on his face. It was one of those smiles that showed real gratitude. I helped him pick up his books, and asked him where he lived. As it turned out, he lived near me, so I asked him why I had never seen him before. He said he had gone to private school before now. I would have never hung out with a private school kid before.

We talked all the way home, and I carried some of his books. He turned out to be a pretty cool kid. I asked him if he wanted to play a little football with my friends. He said yes. We hung out all weekend and the more I got to know Kyle, the more I liked him, and my friends thought the same of him. Monday morning came, and there was Kyle with the huge stack of books again. I stopped him and said, "Boy, you are gonna really build some serious muscles with this pile of books everyday!" He just laughed and handed me half the books.

Over the next four years, Kyle and I became best friends. When we were seniors, we began to think about college. Kyle decided on Georgetown, and I was going to Duke. I knew that we would always be friends, that the miles would never be a problem. He was going to be a doctor, and I was going for business on a football scholarship. Kyle was valedictorian of our class. I teased him all the time about being a nerd. He had to prepare a speech for graduation. I was so glad it wasn't me having to get up there and speak. Graduation day, I saw Kyle. He looked great. He was one of those guys that really found himself during high school. He filled out and actually looked good in glasses. He had more dates than I had and all the girls loved him. Boy, sometimes I was jealous. Today was one of those days.

I could see that he was nervous about his speech, so, I smacked him on the>back and said, "Hey, big guy, you'll be great!" He looked at me with one of those looks (the really grateful one) and smiled. "Thanks," he said. As he started his speech, he cleared his throat, and began.

"Graduation is a time to thank those who helped you make it through those tough years. Your parents, your teachers, your siblings, maybe a coach...but mostly your friends...I am here to tell all of you that being a friend to someone is the best gift you can give them. I am going to tell you a story." I just looked at my friend with disbelief as he told the story of the first day we met. He had planned to kill himself over the weekend. He talked of how he had cleaned out his locker so his Mom wouldn't have to do it later and was carrying his stuff home. He looked hard at me and gave me a little smile.

"Thankfully, I was saved. My friend saved me from doing the unspeakable." I heard the gasp go through the crowd as this handsome, popular boy told us all about his weakest moment. I saw his Mom and dad looking at me and smiling that same grateful smile. Not until that moment did I realize it's depth. Never underestimate the power of your actions. With one small gesture you can change a person's life. For better or for worse. God puts us all in each other's lives to impact one another in some way. Look for God in others. You now have two choices, you can:

1) Pass this on to your friends or

2) Delete it and act like it didn't touch your heart.

As you can see, I took choice number 1.

"Friends are angels who lift us to our! feet when our wings have trouble remembering how to fly." There is no beginning or end.. Yesterday is history. Tomorrow is mystery. Today is a gift. It's National Friendship Week. Show your friends how much you care. Send this to everyone you consider a FRIEND. If it comes back to you, then you'll know you have a circle of friends.

Sunday, March 13, 2005

Here are some quick pictures of Switzerland while I'm getting my travel journal up and running...

Wednesday, March 02, 2005

The details of my life lately have been crazy from dealing with my boss to dealing with guys to a SHIT load of work. (As if that's any surprise). While I would love to write out everything that has been going on, I'm afraid I just don't have time. I really miss the days of just writing until I drop, but unfortuently it has been exchanged for doing homework and duty until I drop. Oh well.

The good news is that I am heading for Switzerland Friday morning. I will be keeping a Travelogue on it, and will post the link when I finish it when I return. I will also will be hopefully posting pictures when I return. Digital cameras do have an advantage in this manner of fast uploading. It should be a very interesting trip, one that I am looking forward to.

Other good news, since this blog seems to be focusing on good news completely, I have been hanging out with a really awesome guy lately. While there are some things that concern me about him, there are even more things that make me happy about him. He's nice, he's a democrat, he'll be here next year, and he lives farely close to Lancaster. Good stuff. He came with me today on my quest to find non-jean pants as I call them. Switzerland is unfortuently very "smart casual" which means no jeans on the days that we are going to more upscale places...argh. After we went shopping quickly in the mall, I got food at Tullys while me, Jason (that's his name) and his friend Steve talked. When dinner was over he came to my room and we hanged out and talked until my 9.30 meeting with staff. It was awesome just playing around and talking with him.

But now I have to run off to finish marketing homework and to study for my History midterm tomorrow. I also have to look over my notes for tomorrow's debate first thing in the morning. Hopefully I won't screw it up. Argh.

Tomorrow? After class I have to go to work until 8 like usually and then I'm going on a date with Jason. After that, I'm packing for Switzerland and going to bed a little earlier than usual (which means 1.30 instead of 3). We leave from Berks at 12 and our flight isn't until 6 pm. Ick. Not going to be a fun flight. Red eyes suck! Till later!
Falls on Me
By: Fuel

I've seen you hanging 'round
This darkness where I'm bound
And this black hole I've dug for me
And silently within with hands touching skin
The shock breaks my disease
And I can breathe
And all of your weight
And all you dream
Falls on me, it falls on me
And your beautiful sky
And the light you bring
Falls on me, it falls on me
Your faith like the pain
Draws me in again
She washes all my wounds for me
The darkness in my veins
I never could explain
And I wonder if you ever see
Will you still believe
And all of your weight
And all you dream
Falls on me, it falls on me
And your beautiful sky
And the light you bring
Falls on me, it falls on me
Am I that strong
To carry on
I might change your life
I might save my world
Could you save me?
And all of your weight
And all you dream
Falls on me, it falls on me
And your beautiful sky
And the light you bring
Falls on me, it falls on me

Saturday, February 26, 2005

Photo's from a trip to Florida awhile ago.

This one is my sister Cassidy...

This one is my sister Cassidy and my Dad...

This one is my sister Olivia and my Dad being funny...

And that's all for now... ;0

Friday, February 25, 2005

You know you are having a very odd day when you flood your sink with the cup your trying to rinse out. I just don't know anymore.

Damn he's hot!

Wednesday, February 23, 2005

I've been too frustrated to write lately. I will try to put in a good entry after I get some well deserved sleep.

Thursday, February 10, 2005

The Mayonnaise Jar and the 2 Cups of Coffee

When things in your life seem almost too much to handle, when 24 hours in a day are not enough, remember the mayonnaise jar and the 2 cups of coffee.

A professor stood before his philosophy class and had some items in front of him. When the class began, he wordlessly picked up a very large and empty mayonnaise jar and proceeded to fill it with golf balls.

He then asked the students if the jar was full. They agreed that it was. The professor then picked up a box of pebbles and poured them into the jar. He shook the jar lightly. The pebbles rolled into the open areas between the golf balls. He then asked the students again if the jar was full. They agreed that it was.

The professor next picked up a box of sand and poured it into the jar. Of course, the sand filled up everything else. He asked once more if the jar was full. The students responded with an unanimous "yes."

The professor then produced two cups of coffee from under the table and poured the entire contents into the jar effectively filling the empty space between the sand. The students laughed.

"Now," said the professor as the laughter subsided, "I want you to recognize that this jar represents your life. The golf balls are the important things-- your family, your children, your health, your friends and your favorite passions--and if everything else was lost and only they remained, your life would still be full.

The pebbles are the other things that matter like your job, your house and your car. The sand is everything else--the small stuff."

"If you put the sand into the jar first," he continued, "there is no room for the pebbles or the golf balls. The same goes for life. If you spend all your time and energy on the small stuff you will never have room for the things that are important to you.

"Pay attention to the things that are critical to your happiness. Play with your children. Take time to get medical checkups. Take your spouse out to dinner. Play another 18. There will always be time to clean the house and fix the disposal. Take care of the golf balls first--the things that really matter. Set your priorities. The rest is just sand."

One of the students raised her hand and inquired what the coffee represented. The professor smiled. "I'm glad you asked. Just goes to show you that no matter how full your life may seem, there's always room for a couple of cups of coffee with a friend."

Please share this with someone you care about. I JUST DID.

Wednesday, February 09, 2005

Current Away Message-

I feel like if I stop long enough to breath everything will collapse around me.
All I hear is the echo of laughter at my expression.

All I feel is anger at the condescending tone of a friend.

All I can think is "Why am I falling behind."

I feel like I'm going to lose all control if I just breathe one more time.

Saturday, February 05, 2005

I haven't really written in this blog for a long time, so I figure that it's due for an update. Current affairs...

I haven't had a chance to do anything more than schoolwork, work, and RA buisness since this semester has started. It seems that I have overextended myself once again and I am just longing for a break. I just want to have time to hang out with my friends, but the longer time goes by I have a feeling that when I have a moment to hang out, I won't have friend any longer. It's kind of scary, but I just can't afford to slow down right now. I have this feeling that if I do slow down, I'll get so far behind I'll never be able to finish anything. I can't drop out of college, I won't.

This also seems to be a semester of more disasters to my friends and family. I thought last semester was bad with the utter devestation that faced my friends, but this semester is already in competition for the worst time ever.

A very good friend of mine has recently experienced a life changing event. While I really need to vent what is going on with that situation, I can't because that would violate confidentiality and would hurt my friend. This friend has gone through enough and I would never put them through this. Instead I'll write briefly on how concerned I am about the situation. I will stand by this friend and offer all the help I can. It's all I can do.

This Thursday, a lot of shit went down.

During my 10.50 class, History 467, I experienced SEVERE chest pains. It started out as a gradual pressure that continued to increase and then shooting pains flared across the left part of my chest. This started near the end of a 50 minute debate part of the class was putting on, so I gritted my teeth and stayed for the rest of the class. The pain happened for about 20 minutes.

After class it still hurt, but more of a lingering pain. I was very concerned about it, so I called my mom before I headed to my next class. She told me to not even think about going to my class and to head straight for the nurse on campus. This made me even more concerned. When I went to the nurse, they didn't want to take me until 2.30, mind you it was 12.20 when I came in. They were heading to lunch break. I asked if there was anything sooner and that I was very concerned. They asked me what the problem was, and then they were concerned and rushed me in.

She hooked me up to all the monitors and did all the crazy questions (did I do drugs, was I sexually active, was I stressed.). She had originally thought I was having a heart attack, but was reassured that I wasn't according to the machine. She made me wait for the doctor for about an hour just in case. It turns out that I have this long ass name that starts with a C. Basically it means that I have an inflamation of the cartilidge in my left side of my rib cage. Argh... It won't go away for about a week, and I have to take regular dosages of anti-inflamitories.

That and I got a lecture about not getting diagnosed for heart palpations when it was obvious that I knew I had them. (Heart Palpitations - a feeling of skipped heart beats, fluttering or "flip-flops," or feeling that your heart is "running away"). I've always known I had it, my mom has it and I can feel it. But now I have to get testing done to control it. The worst thing...I have to severly reduce/eliminate my caffeine intake. For those of you who know me well, know how much that sucks for me. I pretty much breath the stuff.

What else happened on Thursday? Well I found out today that my sister, Cassidy, had to go to the ER in the middle of the night. My mother didn't want to tell me, 'cause it might worry me and make my chest worse. I about growled at her when she told me that. I can understand how she'd be stressed though, dealing with both of us, so I didn't say much more than never do that again.

Cassidy had to go to the ER because she was experiencing SEVERE pains too. Except it wasn't in her, no, no. It was in her stomach. They thought that she had turned out that she has cysts on her ovaries. SHE'S 15! How does she have them already! So besides being sick to her stomach all the time and in a lot of pain she's okay. They doctors are going to wait and see if they burst first, and if they don't, then they are going to go in and remove them. I hope she'll be okay. No, I KNOW she will be okay.

But I gotta run. I have an essay, a presentation, a project, and a couple of tests this week I have to prepare for. I already feel tired (another backlash from this stupid inflamation/palpiations), so I want to get as much done as possible. It feels good to get all of this off my chest (no pun intended), but I gotta get some normality back into my life. If doing homework will make be feel normal again...I'll do it. Never though I'd be willing to do homework. Shows you how fucked up life can get in such a short period of time.