My hindrances

Every so often I spend aimless hours looking at my hindrances. You might call these part of my "identity" but I tend to call them hindrances and disadvantages because sadly that's all they are for me. Most of the time. You'll hear me list just a few out every now and then.

I'm black, lesbian, female, atheist, chubby *cough*, short, flat footed (don't laugh, buying shoes sucks for me), kinky haired, and probably a switch (I likes to hit and be hit), probably bipolar (runs in the family, I've not been officially diagnosed though so the jury's out).

A couple of those not too bad, a couple of them probably don't even matter in the scheme of things (don't laugh at my flat feet dude). Why are they hindrances? Because most of them eventually cancel each other out and make it quite hard to get along in life.

Let's take the first three. I'm a girl, putting me at a slight disadvantage in society compared to my male counterparts. I'm a black woman putting me even FURTHER down the ladder and effectively dismissing any issues I may have as either. I'm a black lesbian which gives me a small support group, then I'm an atheist which just sort of strips that support group.

Chubby, well, I'm constantly being told to put the fork down. Short & chubby = morbidly obese despite the fact that I'm pretty healthy according to my doctors, it also means I have to use chairs to get shit out my pantry and that makes me feel inadequate. Having flat feet makes buying shoes a pain. Natural hair makes me ugly to both whites and blacks alike. My sexuality makes me a freak, my potential bipolarness makes me either a faker or a crazy bitch. Or a slut, I forget now.

Stereotypes, they follow me around. I can't do much to shed any of these hindrances no matter how much I wish it some days. I've yet been able to live with most of them and don't know if I will, because whenever I think me and my hindrances are going to settle down together something just stirs up old wounds. I take things to heart and I must call them out to make peace with myself, do you understand?

Except I can't make peace with myself, so what's the point? Do I float in the subspace between my so called identity and what I'm supposed to be? Do I suffer endlessly, painlessly, internally? Or do I do nothing at all? That's the next step after finding out who you are, no matter how many "whos" there are, sadly a lot of the time there are no answers and even more often no one to fully guide you.

I've yet to find my doppleganger (although I've been told I would die if I did), someone like me I can relate to and call upon when I'm stranded with the she-wolves and the lionesses. But maybe someday if I keep trying, if I ever manage to pull myselves together.

What makes a Xands?

I was having one of those shower thoughts a while back and reflecting on the pen name I've been going under for a while now--that'd be me, Xands. I've gone under a number of things which is why I'm so elusive on the net, but for some reason any variation of Xands/Xanthe (which is greek for yellow, I just like it, no deep meaning there) seems to stick.

So you probably haven't troubled yourself to read, I believe, my very post on this blog (and I wouldn't) in which I explain my name because I get asked about it a good deal. What, exactly, is a Xands, besides a me?

Well, let me tell you and this will probably make it easier to spot me hatin' on youtube or your blog or something. I realized why this particular name has stuck so well is because every word of it has a real, sort of personal meaning to me.

Get ready, it's going to get dizzying.

TR Xands - the TR is really just to separate me from those other Xandses, I know you've met like 10

T- Tiziano-> Titian, as in the painter whom I've admired-> Titus, a latin praenomen, a title of honor

R- Renatus, meaning rebirth

Xands (it's actually khsands, I know you've been saying it wrong) - Alexandros -> Alexander, defending men

Got all that?

So, what's the significance of any of that? Well, to take it from the top, I really admired Titian's bold, dramatic, colorful works when I was going through my Renaissance Art Is The Shit 4eva phase really badly, so when I started crafting this Latin-ish name for myself, I started with that. Titian isn't Latin, it's the English translation of his real name, Tiziano, which so happens to be the Italian form of Titus. Excellent!

Following the Roman naming convention, I chose a second name. Renatus seemed to work out well, again, Renaissance influence and it's meaning.

Alexandros (I hardly ever go by AlexandER) was a little tricky and I'm not totally sure why I chose it. In this case, "defending men" is just that, but I take it as more "defending MAN" as in mankind. It's a little unfortunate now but it still works.

"Xands, you hate people...?" Well thanks for reminding me spoilsport, but I think, what I want to do most in life, and what I can do, in any way, is to help. I do not necessarily want my name all over the history books but let's say I don't want to die with a bitter cry or a whimper. If I should get hit by a car tomorrow trying to cross the street, as I'm often nearly wont to do, I would like to leave some tiny impact that isn't wholly negative. I want to help other people, maybe indirectly maybe directly, because I feel like it helps me. I want to be that defense.

...I mean, I do want gold and glory and shit, but the above will do okay too, especially considering the whole hit by a car scenario. See, am I the only one that ponders that like regularly?

In any case, there you go, now I've taken away the mystique yet again! I go by Xands or TR, mostly now, because it's usually more gender neutral and it's really short. No shit, for the longest time I went by Renatus Alexandros entirely because it was awesome, but you don't have to worry about that babehs.

I wanna go, blog pimpin!

If you're tired of laughing at Amazon Fail-o-rama 09 already and/or you're anxiously waiting on your favorite blogger to get their shit together, why don't you go read Danno's adventures in co--er, New Orleans?



Here and, ah, here.

Now, I'm off to fail at school in the morning.

Listen, Jesus, to the warning I give!

Okay, yeah, so...you know, being godless and everything, I'll be damned if some of my favorite movies aren't religious movies. Ben-Hur, The Ten Commandments, King of Kings, the Greatest Story Ever Told, the Last Temptation...well, it's probably just because I like the classics in general--this includes literature--it's not like I'm so repulsed by religion I can't watch a damn movie.

One of my favorite movies to watch around Easter is Jesus Christ Superstar. Let us sing and dance together in fringe.

I don't care who you are or what you are, this movie is just my SHIT. It's got fantastic songs and it's actually a different retelling of the story all together--it actually kind of strays in to the Christian Gnostic tradition a little, the story isn't entirely from Jesus's point of view and Judas is actually made as a sympathetic character. Jesus, likewise, is interesting in that he's more of an angsty figure rather than the strong, brave, wise Jesus you'd expect. He's more human, I think, in that he's not all that accepting of the fact that he has to die for this to work. Will people remember him after his death? Who's to say this will actually work? Why does he have to die anyway?

The other point is, I think, the portrayal of Pontius Pilate, again, sort of like Judas, not really wanting to do anything with this shit. But the mob wants blood and the Galileans want blood and everyone wants blood so what can he do besides say "Auugh damnit".

So naturally since we can't be singing the Bible and shit, this was and is still deemed blasphemous. Well we actually sort of like blasphemy here, so if you've managed not to see this movie or the original play, I'd highly recommend it. Watch it with me, too, I'll sing all the songs to you really loud in your ear. Although, if you're not a fan of musicals you may not be swayed either way.

So here's some of the important songs.


"Heaven on Their Minds"


"Blood Money/Damned for All Time"


Myyy temple should beeee a house of praaayerrrr~


"Gethsemane"


The Trial


"Superstar"

HARROWING REGISTRATION TALES

A little diversion for you all while I try to make smarty posts. This is how my day went.

Note: I use "bitch" a lot, more in reference to people that annoy me, not just women. Oh and copious blood.


So I hate undergarments when I sleep, usually, and the night before I chose to sleep in shorts and a purple t-shirt. That bit of info will become important later.

Friday, 10 AM. I wake up to the sound of someone typing on a keyboard, only to realize that I'm the only one in my room and it's actually just raining outside. Yay.

Figuring I wouldn't get to sleep anymore today, I wake up...and realize something important: I have to register for class at noon. Oh shit! Get on Gold Link and pull them classes up. I already had a fair idea of what I needed to take to get me credits & hours so I waste no time--

...except even as noon o'clock comes I still can't register. See, this has been happening for two days and no one has been able to tell me why. So I call the registrar again and they tell me that because I only have 18 earned hours (WTF?!) I have to go down to the advisement resource center and get cleared because of my developmental class. Keep in mind, I'd gotten cleared for those classes, oh, last month.

So wasting no time, at this point it's sunny outside but I grabbed my umbrella, put on some flip flops and left, angrily calling my mother & texting all the while. My period has started and I'm feeling squishy already, my back hurts and the last thing I want to do is walk up some damn stairs and shit.

I get to the Culp center and I ask the ladies at the ARC what the fuck I gotta do. They send me to the back. The girls in the back tell me to come back in an hour while one grabs my file--or so I think. Smoldering, I leave the office and go get me a paltry lunch and wait for these bitches to get it together. I walk to the 3rd floor to eat, then back down a ramp and decide I could sit in the library. It's a nice sunny, breezy day out but I'm having none of it as I'm desperately trying to keep blood from running down my legs and into my shoes. I don't really care, it's just that I have to pee every five minutes and that's a little annoying.

Exhausted, I wait in the coolness of the library, reclining in a soft chair and reading the Annotated Alice in Wonderland (need to check that out perhaps). It's easter so not a lot of people around for me to cuss out. About 1:30 I head back to the Culp and wait in the lobby a while longer, bleed on some seats, then bust back into the ARC center and head straight for the section I was at before, "undeclared" despite having a major.

Now here's where it gets fucked up. The lady I saw before--not one of the student workers--recognizes me and asks why I'm back, I say I still need to get advised. She's like "..." at me and goes to look for my file--I don't have one. Why? I'm developmental math only, so I need to go to my department (english) and see the folks there. Thing is, it's fucking 1:40 and I was supposed to have registered an hour and 40 minutes ago, I don't know who my adviser is this semester and with my aching lower back and cramping stomach THE LAST GODDAMN THING I WANT TO DO IS WALK 20 MINUTES TO BURLESON HALL WHEN YOU BITCHES JUST TOLD ME I COULD DO A WALK IN ADVISEMENT.

I didn't yell but I got testy as fuck, and eventually I met with an intern there who so happened to be in the English department as well, and she got me straightened out while I sat there in her nice comfy seat, probably bleeding on it all the while. Once all that drama was over, I texted and called in celebration and squishy-squished my bloody way back to my dorm room for a nap.

This is why I hate authority.

My major's not getting me laid any time soon

Although, it seems I stand a better chance than biologists, ironically enough.

Check this out from Sociological Images.



Link or click image for full size chart.

Well isn't that fascinating...for that particular college. You'd think undeclared'ers would be out getting laid more since they're undeclared¹ but I guess no one loves a flip-flopper. Other than that it looks...horribly cliche and stereotypical. Free spirited art types are having plenty while the poor geeks are at the ends of the earth. It also leaves a bunch of questions like why would French majors get laid less or why art types would get laid more. Attitudes? Is one major more liberal than the other? More work and less free time? Wouldn't having a jobby-job and shit factor into how much you bite the headboard?

Ehhh. Like I said, interesting for that particular school. Just thought it'd be fun to show since I'm having a post-drain.



_{Note¹: I keed I keed.}

Boys keep swinging, boys always work it out!

Oh fuck you David Bowie, for making being a boy sound totally awesome *sigh* and...let's not act like it isn't in some respects.

At the same time, I just love how cynical this is.

I don't feel much like doing anything today other than sleeping, showering, and watching Bowie gender-bend, and it smells like the building is on fire yet again. It's an awfully nice day to die though.

Boys. BOYS.

Heaven loves ya
The clouds part for ya
Nothing stands in your way
When you're a boy

Clothes always fit ya
Life is a pop of the cherry
When you're a boy

When you're a boy
You can wear a uniform
When you're a boy
Other boys check you out
You get a girl
These are your favourite things
When you're a boy

Boys
Boys
Boys keep swinging
Boys always work it out

Uncage the colours
Unfurl the flag
Luck just kissed you hello
When you're a boy

They'll never clone ya
You're always first on the line
When you're a boy

When you're a boy
You can buy a home of your own
When you're a boy
Learn to drive and everything
You'll get your share
When you're a boy

Boys
Boys
Boys keep swinging
Boys always work it out

Ah, gay history erasure: Black Edition

So, for what's probably going to amount to be a pretty short post, I've thought about this a lot. What to say?

First off, I'm having a blog memory fail because I wanted to show you all a particular & interesting article I saw a few days ago that made me think of this...but now I can't find it *sad* goddamnit Xands.

AHAHAHAHAHA I FOUND IT. It's was Kai Wright's essay called "Queering Hansberry" here. The full essay is included with that link. Thank you very much Google.

That may turn out to be okay though because what I'm about to say isn't exactly new *shrug* as you may tell by the title. By damn I might just have to switch my major to history 'fore too long. It is a great interest of mine, by the way, even if I wouldn't call myself a buff. Is it so wrong to want to see all the facets of history represented equally?

History just focuses on the winners, no, and we are not the winners, that's for sure. If I had that blog entry on hand I wanted to show *sigh* this would make sense, but for the past couple of days I've been wondering about the black community and it's erasure of LGBT history. Specifically the black community because in this case, I mean we're doing it to ourselves.

When my history class last semester snuck (yeah I said snuck, do something about it) homosexuality into our lessons I was amazed and excited. Holy shit he just acknowledged the history of gays in the military. No shit! Too bad that professor gave such drama and is now gone. Then, as you know, I'm in African American history class now...

Part of our grade in that class is our ability to do oral¹ and we all more or less chose a topic in the beginning of the year--a person to give a report on. We ran a little late even for being a small class but I think everyone that needed to has performed, we've gone from Reconstruction to the Harlem Renaissance so we're about in the 50s now.

Now...the reports don't have to be terribly thorough, just THOROUGH ENOUGH for about 5 minutes. Fine. One person gave a report on Langston Hughes and I was...disturbed at a lot of info that was missing (again, thorough enough). But while I was taking notes I mused on the first time I heard that Langston is/might have been (jury's still out of course) a closeted gay. As well as his potential Communist ties, for some reason we just like to glide over that. Then another person gave a report on Claude McKay who was bisexual--again I wondered, "Huh." Then someone neglected to mention that Paul Robeson was blacklisted for alleged communist ties. WTF, pick up people.

The reports were thorough enough. I wondered after the class, a little before my migraine from hell, SHOULD the reports have mentioned Langston & Claude's respective homosexuality & bisexuality? Was it trivia or an important facet of both of their lives? Hmm.

Those are only two examples though...the blog entry I'm still looking for references Lorraine Hansberry, writer of Raisin in the Sun. Did you know she had LGBT community ties as well? If you did you knew better than I did...it seems that aspect of her life is just washed over.

It's pretty irritating and disturbing how easy it is to just wash over the gay & lesbian history of blacks. We're already marginalized for our skin color, just Cthulhu help you if you've got something else going on over there. People of color, it seems, are in general at more risk of coming out that closet than our white counterparts *shrug* it's not a great situation...with blacks especially it seems our strong community ties to the Church seem to be at the unfortunate root of it. Many of us take that "love the sinner hate the sin" garbage a little too far and people suffer.

It's a curious thing. I wonder if my African American History class will be open enough--by open I mean timewise--to include just a little LGBT history in our curriculum. As we get closer to the 60s & 70s it won't be as easy to deny it I don't think, it's got to come up in there somewhere. I hope it does.


_{Note¹: I'm actually worried about how often I can get away with saying that.}

Spurious Hair Purchase: Black Earth Products

Part of my semi-transition to natural hair, which, if you remember from waaay back in August (I do not), pretty much involved me just cutting off my damaged hair and carrying on--

Part of that was, I said to myself, "Self", I says, "we're not going to use all those stupid 'black hair care' products Target tries to pan off to us for 20 dollars. No more olive oil organic no lye super blow out kits!"

And so far I've been pretty good about using less stupid stuff and keeping it real simple. I haven't really switched over to totally organic & natural products, but I've kept me afro up pretty well. And as a reward (kinda) it's grown thicker and longer wilder *swish swish* I also desperately need a haircut like WHOA.

So...basically because I don't trust many people to know what the fuck to do with my fro, it's imperative I figure out how to take care of it, and I think I'm going to slowly make the change more drastically (yes that's what I said) over to natural products that will make it less Brillo Pad-tastic.

I started using Talia Waajid's healing hair oil because my scalp had been itchier than usual and me thinks I'd bout scratched it up something fierce, so that's been helping. Only, I think it's actually more useful as a hot oil treatment and since I do not/can not heat dry my hair it's not AS effective as it could be, except in not making my scalp so damn irate.

So, since I'm still pretty happy with the product, me thinks I'm going to go for the rest of the shampoo & conditioner line. It looks pretty nice. I'm not totally feeling the herbal cleanser since I don't like putting in that much damn effort, but I think I'll come out better buying the whole set then just getting the shampoo & conditioner separately.

I've also decided that since my hair is so porous, I need to stop dying it with semi/demi permanent dye. It's still freaking PURPLE on the top. I want a new color already! In the meantime I'm trying to convince my buddy to dye hers blue.

Visas, ready!

Tutoring woes

I start back tutoring next week and I'm not sure how I feel about that. I don't know if I'm really ready to get back to it or not. I'm beginning to wonder if maybe I could request a new school.

I don't want to leave the one I'm at but honestly I don't feel like I've been doing much good there. I don't feel like I can. My site liaison's getting on my last nerve by treating me like I can't handle the student I'm working with, who does really good when she's with me until the teacher decides to come over and basically meddle. Seriously, fuck off, I've had it going since last semester and here she come *sigh* if I can't work something out, I don't know...I don't want my kid to suffer because of some external "technical" difficulties.

I guess the good thing is, that's really the only part of the job that's annoying the hell out of me, the bad part being that it's a fairly sizable part. Sigh. Next week I'm going to try extra hard to work things out...I haven't actually spoken to her about her supposed "meddling" because I'm not sure how. I mean, am I really doing badly? If so she needs to just come out and tell me. I don't think I'm doing that badly, my kid's been making great progress while I've been there, I can tell. I'm not totally serious but I don't crack around the whole time either. It's so damn frustrating, bleh!

This, folks, is why I could never teach. Sigh. I'm annoyed.

Vintage Rush

I had a bunch to talk about, but I ceased feeling like it about 5 minutes ago. I hate school.

Instead, here's Geddy Lee shutting DOWN your ear drums with "Anthem", live in 76. He does not sing that shit in concert ANY.MORE.



Dig Alex's hair. That is one fly biatch. He looks like he just escaped a Spinal Tap reunion.

Auuugh the haute coutre outfits are killing what's left of my soul. I love some 70s Rush.

I see you don't quite get shit: Anthropology Edition

You know what, I'm bout to pop people in the face.

If you're unfortunate enough to follow my Twittering Train you may have heard that yesterday I'd gotten zero hours of sleep and proceeded to class hopped up on sugar and caffeine. Needless to say that day ended in a 10 hour marathon nap.

I tell you that to explain that I've officially been up 13 hours today about about 3 o'clock because thanks to that long kiss goodnight, I've been up since 2 this morning. Hopped up on even MORE sugar¹, AND it's sunny outside. So I'm rather hyper today :D I'm typing this blog post from upside a wall.

AHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

So proceed to my cultural anthropology class were we're a-talking about gender. I usually love my anthro class since we're such a talkative bunch and today was no different. For extra fun, our regular prof had hear graduate assistant, a sociologist, teaching instead! YEYUH!

Now...uh...here's where the title of my post comes in. I sometimes feel--while I don't like to toot my superior intelligence²--that self-identifying or belonging to not one but a few minority groups (black. female. unstraight. *shatner*) sometimes it feels like I just get shit more. I read a lot. I blog. I'm in Bloggity Blogland where I learn. And let's just say that when I hear women make way less than men for doing the same job, I don't question the validity of that shit, I can tell you it's true and I can tell you a few other things that are true.

Being "outside the box" as in neither white nor male nor straight, it seems that I can grasp the conflicty things that perhaps gender, being a social construct, isn't static. It's dynamic, it changes from culture to culture. If you tell me that some Native American tribes believed there were 3 or even 4 genders I'm past the stage where I'll boggle at you like "NUH UH THAT CAN'T BE POSSIBLE COZ THERE'S ONLY MALE AND FEMALE", I will say, "Oh really? Do tell." I think they call that open minded.

Now, that doesn't make you dumb for not understanding that gender all over the world isn't what you think it is. That doesn't mean you aren't open minded either. In all reality it probably just means you didn't know that little fact, and that's fine. I just found it hilarious watching a handful of people struggle (I guess they were struggling) with the concepts of gender vs sex and how you really have to SEPARATE THE TWO.

BUT

I'm an antagonistic bastard so I passed around some sarcastic hand claps whenever I felt someone had either grasped a concept or failed to utterly. It didn't matter to me! I had lots of fun.

The best one was, while talking about the two spirits concept, which is something I'm admittedly not that familiar with, we talked about what WE, as, uh, Americans, would call "homosexual" marriage. The thing about the two spirits concept is that, there were in some tribes males born with female characteristics, and females born with male characteristics. I mentioned in class that this might tie in to what we would call intersex but I don't know if I explained myself adequately. What happened was, though, a few folks seemed to have trouble with grasping the fact that the two spirit males & females could get married to OTHER males and females respectively and it wasn't considered homosexual because the two spirit people displayed the opposite characteristics.

Got it? Good. Because that had shit to do with anything, it wasn't a "straight" marriage or a "gay" marriage, it was a socially accepted union, or a MARRIAGE. One guy seemed to have the most problems with accepting that there was something outside the heteronomitive and our regular teacher told him that he was equating sex with gender even though we had established that you need to separate the two. He eventually seemed to get it. I clapped.

What got my blood boiling towards the end of class--and I discussed this with another girl later because it was really funny--was the GA talking about possible solutions to the fact that women DO make less money than men for doing the same work even with the same education or better, for various reasons (and I will just sum it up with my favorite buzzword PATRIARCHYYYY). What can we do about the gender discrepancies in our country? Is this a problem?

One guy in the class answered with basically (I'm paraphrasing but you can trust me here): it's not really a problem, it's been this way for years and it's going to be hard to break old attitudes.

Class: *chirp*

I clapped. And lol'd. And BANK'd my first amendment rights to call someone's opinion foolish, but I didn't actually voice this with words because GA answered too fast.

Regular teacher gave a much better and not stupid answer, and thus class ended not too long afterwards. We're going to be on this subject for a few more weeks. Goodness I cannot wait until Thursday.



_{Note¹: Sugar doesn't actually make you hyper. Fun fact!
Note²: Momma says I'm smart. Cite!}

Dear Depression

I'm afraid this isn't working.

I know, the last time we got back together I vowed it would be forever. Teenage promises rarely extend into adulthood, childhood relationships held on by such slender threads.

I can't be with you anymore.

You're a bleak cloud over my life...which...uh I guess is the point. For years you've dominated first my nights, then my weekends, then my weeks, until you consumed entire months of my life. And while you brought out the creative side in me you rather suppressed the other aspects of me, like...everything else. Then you just swallowed up the creative side as well so that's moot.

Well, after our little bout last night, no more. I'm asking you to leave politely.

Also, I want my music collection back ASAP. I forget when we swapped but I want all my LPs back and they better not be damaged or so help me. Frankly when you're not around I don't even enjoy your music that much. I'm not even sure what YOU see in it. I don't want to know. Just give me my records.

Sincerely,

xands.

PS: I actually really want your Bauhaus CDs. I'll trade you vintage Madonna?

Watching Sita Sings the Blues, take 1

You may have heard of this going around el blogosphere, a short animated movie called Sita Sings the Blues. This is the movie here and the page about the movie here.

So I know ABOUT it and I have a general idea of what it's about, and I'll tell you. It is the story of Nina Paley, who, using the story of the Ramayana and jazz singer Anne Hanshaw, relates the story of her divorce.

Now, I started writing this post a while ago because I wanted to give the movie a fair shake. It's not even that long, bout an hour and thirty. I took off my special Gender & Race goggles and watched it like any ol' thing. I should have put them on.

But in a week I have not been able to get past 30 minutes into this movie. Uh when I do I'll let you know, but first let me explain why:

Animation

This has been irritating me to death. The posters I saw showed a pretty cute, simplistic, geometric style & it was colorful, I thought, "Mkay I can work with that". But it's not like that throughout the movie...and I'd be okay with that if it weren't for the fact that while we're looking at Nina's real life it's this weird sketchy style that reminds me of a child's drawings. Fine. Then it switches up again with the shadow puppets and their narration to a sort of cut out style. THEN the cutsey geo look. I was fine with this for most of my time watching but due to the structure the animation changed up so much that I just found myself getting irate.

But that wasn't as bothersome as the

Structure

Okay so I said I only watched 30 minutes of it so I can't say too much other than...damn this irritated me. It didn't flow. After about 10 minutes I ceased completely to feel the shadow puppet Greek Chorus. The way they explained the Ramayana--already in a dumbed down form anyway--just didn't work with what was happening. Holding up the story every now and then to have amusing banter and commentary quickly became unnecessary. And switching back and forth between the Ramayana story and Nina's story...I just thought it could have gone better. At some points if it weren't for the music I'd have been lost on what Nina was trying to get across exactly and I don't think that would have happened if the stories had just been able to intertwine without the excessive use of our little shadowy greek chorus.

Then there's the

Story

Ehh. Again I didn't watch the whole film so I can't go all up into this, but I felt a little weird seeing the Ramayana being related to this divorce. That's on a really basic level and I see where she's going with this, and I think it's a pretty interesting idea, it's just the execution that's making me want to cut someone's face up. With a razor.

So in all...I want to try to get through the rest of this over the weekend and hopefully my feelings will change, because I WANT to like it. Plus, apparently I'm grounded now so I'll need something to do *blink*

Yes, you heard me. Grounded. GROUNDED.

You'll miss out on the night life

My new reasoning for staying up. Despite the fact that I'm clearly not out enjoying the "night life" *gets out a map, side eyes Johnson City*

I think it's worth it, for you to stay awake.

Early to bed and early to rise
Makes a man or woman miss out on the night life
Early to bed and early to rise
Makes a man or woman miss out on the night life

One drink call it a early night
Soon you're curled up 'neath the reading light
Or you bathe in the TV's blue tint
On your pillow an after-dinner mint

Early to bed and early to rise
Makes a man or woman miss out on the night life
Early to bed and early to rise
Makes a man or woman miss out on the night life

Early to bed so you can wait
For three buses, a trolley, and a train
I think it's worth it for you to stay awake
Maybe tomorrow you'll be a little late
But early to bed and early to rise
Makes a man or woman miss out on the night life
Early to bed and early to rise
Makes a man or woman miss out on the night life
You'll miss out on the night life

You'll miss out on the night life

Too random for twitter

-I need to do something about the edges of my hair. And my chops. I'm starting to look like the singer from Mungo Jerry.

Anyway, I guess because Spring is coming (I guess spring is coming?!) my hair is starting to be...drier especially around the edges and it's just making me mad all around.

-Danz went hardcore on me and got a tattoo in Russian (pravda or "truth") down in At-lanna. I think I actually mentioned this passive aggressively. I think he's looking for valediction because I never specified whether I liked the tat or not. It must be driving him nuts.

My opinion is I want to know why getting a tattoo is some sort of rite *blink* I swear everyone I know as soon as they hit 18 went off and got a tattoo (except me of course so now I'm the unique one). The mystique is just GONE now. Like so many things in life I do not care.

-I wish it wouldn't be 70 one day and 50 the next

-I really need to go get some food. Bojangle's is about to become my best friend I think.

-I have an overdue library book. One day! I need to turn it in...but I need it...and it'll be raining tomorrow! *sniffle* what do I do...

-I think I actually have TWO over due books. Um, shit, I hope they just take that off my ID/debit card and not my main account.

-This week went better than I thought. I only caught severe cabin fever once, but I settled for wandering around the 3rd floor rather than stalking the campus grounds. Mission accomplished.

400 posts, 400 posts!

You're looking at my 400th official post. Yep, this is it. Plain ain't it?

It's rather hot and humid outside, as I realized when I found myself making the longest trek ever to RiteAid, only to be sidetracked by Bojangle's. I don't even like chicken, I just wanted some damn tea.

...I wound up eating chicken because I was hungry like a mofo. Seriously, 20 minutes! I walked for 20 minutes in 70 degree heat. I'd forgotten what 70 degrees (Fahrenheit :D) felt like. How did we go from the lower double digits to this shit?! AUUUGH! The worst thing was ALL I WANTED WAS MILK *frowny face* this is sooo hard.

I figured out how I'm going to get paid for the next three weeks, finally. I'm going to get paid by attending educational events on campus and writing, hold on, reaction papers! Wow, I haven't had to do that...ever. Unless it's here, you know I'm perfectly fine doing that. I will give them a reaction alright. Damn, I wish I'd made it out to that Int'l Women's Day seminar Thursday *sigh*

Speaking of which, Sunday is officially International Women's Day two-thousand-nine and, awfully conveniently, it'll be raining that day *another sigh* so I'll get something together maybe...

Uh, I've been watching the Manchurian Candidate--the '62 version not that...04 version which...is about the same as margarine is related to an elephant--and we simply must do a reviewlette. I'm only 4 decades late, fuck em!

This is not for you, fuck you!

Oh Pearl Jam. Sometimes I wish I could choke Eddie Vedder and thump him in the eye. But the man does good work when he's not busy trying to be Neil Young's long lost son. SOMEONE took the "godfather of grunge" moniker too seriously, Eddie.

Where did they come from, stormed my room?

Restless soul, enjoy your youth
Like Muhammad hits the truth
Can't escape from the common rule
If you hate something, don't you do it too...too

Small my table, a-sits just two
Got so crowded, I can't make room
Oh, where did they come from? Stormed my room!
And you dare say it belongs to you, to you!

This is not for you
This is not for you
This is not for you
Oh, not for you, ah, you

(Scream, my friends...don't call me...
Friends, no they don't scream...
My friends don't call...my friends don't...)

All that's sacred comes from youth
Dedication, naive and true
With no power, nothing to do
I still remember, why don't you? Don't you?

This is not for you
This is not for you
This is not for you
Oh never was for you, fuck you!
This is not for you
Oh, this is not for you, yeah, you...
This is not for you
Oh, not for you
Oh, you

Rob Zombie & Lionel Ritchie

and a guest appearance by...I'm not sure who. Cats & dogs living together.

I...vaguely remember this in the same way I think Armageddon has come already.



Rob so obviously wants to break it down drop down low sweep the flo' with it but he just can't find the right time. Also, I thought it was a duet if both people were singing the song not "one guy sings the song other guy comes in on every other vowel".

I don't care it still made my tomorrow.

Jeepers peepers, where'd you get those creepers...

I've been on a bit of a writing drain (T_T) and Danz has me reading the Watchmen, so while I'm contemplating the mysteries of life I thought I'd do a shoe post.

Damnit, I told y'all I was a punk and I meant it. I prefer to be discreet but when I do dress up, for some reason I lean towards laid back rivethead. I guess it's just the music I listen to and my own personal nature that I'm able to combine bleak military fashion with...Capri pants. I'm DIFFERENT.

So last month I indulged myself in a pair of shoes and went completely broke on them *cough* I bought a nice pair of creepers! I'm just so ready for new shoes, damnit.



Yeah, I ordered them last month and they're JUST getting here ~_~ *grumble* but it's okay. They were worth it, I think. What a practical and comfortable shoe! Mine are solid black, both of them (ugh the white ones reminded me of Pee Wee Herman). I might have to break them in a while with no shoes maybe...that's kind of the problem with non-leather (as in fake leather), they take a while--for me at least since my feet are wide--to accommodate, if you will. But it feels like they'll be really comfortable when I do get around to walking in them enough :'D I was worried because they DID look a little narrow, but they're a size 10 so that should be more than enough room. Because I ain't sendin this shit back.

These soles are about 2 inches high I think. I like them already! I love Demonia brand so they'll hopefully last me a while, I know my poor long suffering boots are still here after, what, 3 years? Awesome.

See, it's not aesthetic folks, it's prac-ti-cal-i-ty!