Not an Addict -- K's Choice

No, I'm not an ice cream addict. I did not have two pints in the past 24 hours. I am not out.


Ok, I am. To all of the above. Sue me.

---

Today my self-esteem, when I woke up, was at about breast-height. This is normal. Now it's hiding in Satan's closet, quivering. He's about to call a fumigator. I've been crying, but I don't feel better. At all. Reasons:

• English.
• English professor.
• I'm a lazy slut. And I can't seem to stop being a lazy slut.
• Rinoa is a whore, because she got petrified when I wanted Squall to be petrified and then I didn't run into another Chimera, so I'm just letting the Iguions rip her to shreds right now.
• I got two letters from the NFAA today. The NFAA is the National Foundation for the Arts....I don't know what the other A stands for....and I applied to their scholarship in two different disciplines. If I'd won, I'd have $10,000 USD, which would have funded my degree. Guess what the two letters were? (That's right, Rejections, capital R.)
• I'm out of ice cream and out of money.
• I'm out of money, and that sucks.
• The bulb in my bedside lamp burned out.
• I have no place to put my shot glasses (not really a reason to be depressed, but it's just one more thing on the camel's poor broken back).
• I have an assignment due--the final assignment due--in Anthro on the 8th, and she's not accepting late papers. I haven't even finished the book. And here I am blogging. Can we say "LAZY SLUT"?
• I'm listening to depressing music to make me feel more depressed, because that's what I do to cheer up. *watches the eyebrows raise*

That's pretty much it, but let me elaborate on #2.

MY ENGLISH PROFESSOR IS AN ASS.

Yes, that is my elaboration. He asks me for opinion essays. So I write them. Then he's like, "YOUR OPINION SUCKS AND YOU LOSE." (Saying I can't think objectively.....bastard. I can think objectively. I'm thinking of several objects that I'd like to insert in him right now, actually. Like a garden gnome.) And then he goes on to say that Ginsberg is the Whitman of our time (which makes me hate the ass more, and I'm referring to the Ginsberg and Whitman collective!ass, not the EngProf!ass), before saying that they're like Eminem, who he really likes for his anti-social attitude and lyrics. At which point I gouged my eyes out and ate them. (If you're wondering how I'm typing all this, I'm an excellent typist. Yes, I am. I just usually don't care.) I'm sorry, but Eminem is an ass too. What am I saying? I'm not sorry at all. EMINEM IS AN ASS. A huge ass. He, Whitman, and Ginsberg can be a collective!ass. EngProf!ass is a rat, and I need a RAT BLUDGEON. Like a shovel. SMACKSMACKSMACK.

I know that, from your perspective, it probably doesn't seem so bad, but you haven't had to suffer 2 semesters with this motherfucker. Ask Ashen. She had him this summer too. She'll let you know what he's like, and may even show you her photoshopaltered!picture of him.

---

In other news, Happy Sinterklaas Day, which was yesterday in Nederland and today in Deutschland. Can anyone show me these countries on a map? (Hint: their languages are similar, and one of them was ruled by a dictator in the 30s/40s who tried to take over the world, starting with Poland, and then moving on to the rest of Europe and, at some point, the other country I'm referring to, before the Allies whooped his Nazi!ass with the help of Canadians, Americans, and Pagans in Britain (and this part is true, folks).) Sinterklaas Day is the Dutch Christmas, pretty much (oh, there, I gave it away), when little Dutch children put out their little Dutch clogs at the fireplace (sound familiar?) and then Sinterklaas and his helper Black Pete come and put treats in the shoes, usually chocolate letters (I got J), as well as licorices, etc, because Dutch candies are fucking awesome, and Dutch kids only get them on holidays like Sinterklaas Day and the Queen's Birthday. My family celebrated it when I was younger, because my Mom and her Mom and Dad (my Oma and Opa) are from Nederland, and interestingly enough, my Opa (who I never knew, because he died a year before I was born) served in the Underground Resistance against the Nazis and spent 4 years in a Nazi prison while my Oma, his fiancee, waited for him. One more thing to be proud of my Dutch family for.

---

Ear candy: Roxanne Tango, sung by the Unconscious Argentinian and Ewan McGregor.

//you're free to leave me but just don't deceive me//and please believe me when I say I love you//

---

Well, I'm going to sign off and read slash to feel better, and maybe update my other site.

Adiosa

--The Weeping Universe

Wanted

I don't even know what to write. I'm so blah right now.

Speaking of, Ashen and I did this today. Well, I did. As soon as we stop being lazyasses we'll post to it.

The thing is, there's the Dumpster, and it lists the badfics. But not many places give reviews of goodfics. So we have taken up the....something. Torch. Yeah, that's it---we've taken up the torch. Ashen and I will both review stuff, and occasionally, when I snap and go postal, I will burn stuff. Bad stuff. Badfics. We'll also post the fics we write that Pit of Voles won't post or has kicked off. That is, as soon as we get an account at said pit.

---

Spent my first night at the house last night. Apparently, the 43 roosters we have don't go off at 4 am. They go off at 3. *twitch* Ah, well. I slept well anyway and was awake enough to go to a work meeting at Starbucks (which I boycott, but that's where my boss wanted to meet, so, hey). Saw disc 3 of season 2 of Friends last night, and ate a pint of ice cream. I've been good today, though. Had yoghurt and soy-milk for breakfast, and then a coffee (NOT from Starbucks), and since then...nothing else. Damn, I'm hungry.

---

Convinced my dad to needlessly spend money on me today. Not really. Kind of. Just to fix my computer. (My computer, which was raped by spyware repeatedly and left for dead off the I-90.) Speaking of my dad, I had a dream about him last night (which I told him about): I dreamt we were talking like two best friends do after years of knowing each other, and I said, "So, is it heartbreakin' time?"

"Yup," he replies.

"Who?"

"Margit this time." [this is his current real-life girlfriend]

"Ah," I respond, not surprised. "What's her name?"

"Actually," he says, "it's a he."

end:dream.

There you have it. I dreamt my dad was/is gay. ... When he's a homophobe (but only with lesbians). O.o

---

My mac is being a whore. It learned from my laptop. I can't burn my movie to disc, so I have to go and fix it up and shit. I don't have the patience nor the time right now. So fuck it. I'll show my movie in January.

---

On the subject of my ex-roomie.... we have made peace and are friends again. This doesn't mean I've forgotten, only forgiven. And I'll never be able to live with her again. But now we can hang out, and I enjoy her company, so...all's well, eh?

---

And now I have to go home and eat pizza.

Love and all that,

--Your Universe
First of the Best
Rest of the Last

Confessing wonders Untold...

Roll With It

She says my ass hurts when I sit down
She says my feet hurt when I'm standing around
I think my body is as restless as my mind

And I don't know if I can roll with it this time

She packed his uniforms and drove him to the base
She was crying the whole way
The world looked her in the face
And said roll with it baby, and make it your career
Keep the home fires burning
Till America is in the clear

But the mainstream is so polluted with lies

Once you are wet it's so hard to get dry
We are all taught how to justify hissstory
As it passes by

And yes it's your world that comes crashing down

When the big boys wanna throw their weight around

But just roll with it baby, and make it your career
Keep the home fires burning
Till America is in the clear

But what if the enemy isn't in a distant land?
What if the enemy lies behind the voice of command?

The sound of war is a child's cry
Behind tinted windows they just drive by

And all I know is that those who are going to be killed
Aren't those that reside on capitol hill
I told him don't fill the frontlines of their war
Those assholes aren't worth dying for

And he said roll with it baby, and make it your career
Keep the home fires burning
Till America is in the clear

Just roll with it baby, and make it your career
Keep the home fires burning
Till America is in the clear

Just roll with it baby, and make it your career
Keep the home fires burning
Till America is in the clear

But she says my ass hurts when I sit down
She says my feet hurt when I'm standing around
I think my body is as restless as my mind
But I'm not going to roll with it this time.

No, I'm not going to roll with it this time
No, I'm not going to roll with it this time
No, I'm not going to roll with it this time.

---

Song by Ani DiFranco. Ani DiFranco is a goddess of song.

---

My Mary Sue

(because I was bored)

Name: Kimberlee de la Fleur
Eye Color: Starry Azure
Hair Color: Tousled Raven
Signature Scent: Lacy Night-Blossom
Paranormal Power: Sees the Future
Specialized Skill: Computer Hacker
Distinguishing Mark: Nipple Ring
Newly revealed relationship to a major canon character: Professor Dumbledore's Niece

(Courtesy the Mary Sue Generator at MaggieFic).

---

And I've finally accomplished it! The Side Section is now officially longer than the blog! Yay me!
Exclamation marks!

---

I've calmed down since my last entry. I did my homework. I moved the stuff I got into the house. And I slept here at the office last night, so I am sans clean clothes. I got AIM. Would you believe that the sn SailorUterus is taken? Sigh. I had to go with HolyMagicFinder. I love the generators @ 7th Sanctum.

And now I must go, because I'm blogging and iming, and while the computer can handle it, my brain can't.

--Your Universe

Grey

Like my heart.

---

I moved in my furniture at the house today, and as R had to work and couldn't make it, I just chose the bigger half of the room. Now, technically, 'bigger half' is an oxy-moron, but it's true that the room, when split down the middle, does have one side that's just a few squares of tile bigger. I have a lot of crap. So I took that side. And he will just have to deal with it, because I'm a Princess. And a spoiled one at that.

---

After moving in my stuff, my darling mom was kind enough to take me shopping. First we went to Wal-Mart, The Lair of Evils Beyond Imagining That Will Undoubtedly Make Your Soul Shrivel and Curdle and Scream in Agony, where the Christmas rush has begun in earnest. I wanted to scream. First, there's the flourescent lights, which make your eyes and your brain ache. Second, the place is full of Americans--Gaea's bad seed (excepting, of course, all the intelligent liberals who live in the blue states--and some from the red (hi, Em)). I mean, FULL of Americans. Everywhere. I couldn't walk one foot without having to stop for some fucking soccer mom to back up her fucking cart full of fucking plastic shit that neither she nor her screaming children need while she talks on her newest DeathPocket, ie cell phone, about how the zucchinis are coming in FINE, oh and is Jimmy coming over for Christmas, because last time he kind of shot the dog when he was aiming for that deer that was eating my roses, and while I'm glad he was about to kill one of God's creatures in the traditional American way of shoot first, ask questions later, don't do prayers at all because it was a HEATHEN, the kids really were fond of that dog, and she was a pain to replace, because we had to go through all the puppy stuff again, and it just made a huge mess of my Martha Stewart Every Fucking Day linens, because we had to do a bit of bloodletting for the Dark One (no, not Satan--Bush), and what I'm really saying that if Jimmy is coming over, fine, but just tell him to leave his gun at home and of course your homemade 40 proof egg nog is certainly welcome.

I fucking hate Wal-Mart and the whole "Christmas is about buying crap, not the traditional dying god myth nor the rebirth of light and the ending of the cycle at all, because Pagans don't have a right to be who they are or to believe what they believe in because they're not CHRISTIAN, DAMMIT, and ooh, that tree will go wonderfully with the other six", because that's not what the holiday season is about at fucking all, and if I see one more piece of fucking useless Christmas kistch, I'm going to fucking scream.

So, after I bought a shower curtain (plaid and blue) at Wal-Mart, we headed over to Ross to see if they had that over the door coat hanger thingy, because I thought it would be great for our room, except when I saw it a few days ago I didn't have any cash, so I thought I'd go back for it, and of course IT WAS GONE, and Ross was like "YOU LOSE", so I said fuck it and bought some pastries and Milano cookies and a coffee drink from Safeway before we headed over to K-Mart, which was not crowded at all, and was, aside from the 20 foot snowman in the entryway and the field of about 15 trees at the back of the store, relatively Christmas Free. It was a really nice experience, actually, because I didn't feel like a caged liberal who had to do her buying quickly and get out of there before they found her and gave her a lobotomy for thinking her own thoughts, like I did in Wal-Mart. I had a nice leisurely shop, and I found a twin foamie mattress for my room, and some Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles sheets + pillow that I told Mom to get me for Yule/Hanukkah, and she said ok, and then for myself I bought (aside from the mattress which was a steal at $60) a TMNT placemat--vinyl, no less--and something that I've wanted since I was a little girl, when they were still a left-over 80s fad: an 80s-style Caboodles plastic make-up carrier, in purple. Oh, I was happy with that.

Then we went and got a Jamba Juice, because STRONG UKRAINIAN WOMEN DRINK THE JAMBA, but it wasn't the Jamba at the mall so I didn't get to check out that cute girl behind the counter. I satisfied myself with scaring the crap out of the workers at the Jamba we did go to.

And then we went home and I've been here ever since.

---

Ok, so I've decided something today: FUCK CHRISTMAS. All the goddamn (yes, godddamn, because no one ever asked Jesus what he wanted for his flipping birthday, now did they?) holiday has ever been for me has been hell. Somehow, it's always been ruined, and usually by the token males in my life. Either it was my father yelling at me till I threw up my Christmas dinner when I was two or slamming the door in my face last year on Christmas Eve when I was trying to spend the day with him and sobbing, or that asshole Peter J. Russell, and I put his full name in here so that if you ever meet him (about six foot, curly blond hair, white), you can kill him, sending me a letter on Yule, which is what my Pagan life celebrates and is a few days before Christmas, which is what my non-Pagan life celebrates, telling me that it's all over between us when it never fucking began. Seems that 95% of the Christmases that I've had have been spent sobbing in a corner somewhere before drowning my sorrows in a funny Billy Bob Thorton movie and then going back to sobbing for the rest of the winter break.

So, yes, I hate Christmas, and frankly, I don't think anyone should be celebrating it at all when there is a war going on, or did no one think about the Iraqis dying miserable deaths in holy cities, their women and children slaughtered by American soldiers, and American soldiers slaughtered in Bush's Quest for Oil? Unlike Link's Quest for Ass, this quest is nothing to laugh at. And Americans have the gall to ignore the sufferings of other peoples and go on their merry way, because hey, the war isn't being fought on American soil!

The last war fought on American soil was the Civil War--over a hundred years ago. We've forgotten what real wartime is like. We've forgotten what it's like to suffer at the hands of an invading army. And in forgetting, we inflict that pain on others.

I'm not saying that I'm perfect---far from it. And I'm not saying that I'm going to live in depression because of what's happening in other parts of the world until the bad stuff stops, because if I did that I'd never be happy. What I'm saying is this: it seems that no one realizes the real issues at hand here, and they will go along blindly with whatever's decided because, in the immortal[ly stupid] words of Britney Spears, "We should trust the President with whatever he decides," until this country has none of its original values intact. Remember, America was founded on dissent and by people trying to break away from a tyrant. That's a far cry from what's happening now.

So, I boycott the traditional Christian Christmas and the BUYBUYBUY!!! of the season. I am getting one or two gifts for my closer friends and family, and not because the TV tells me to. I do it in honor of the gifts the Three Wise Men gave Baby Jesus on his [supposed] birthday, in honor of the spirit of giving that this season should be about--and in that giving, I will give my love and my prayers to the people dying in Iraq, when they should be having a peaceful holiday season (and that includes Ramadan).

---

And now, for your enjoyment, Felicity Artemis' take on Jesus Spinning in the Grave:

I've done some soulsearching and I thought that since Christmas is Jesus' birthday and everything, maybe we should just ask Jesus what he thinks of an economic boycott of Christmas, and so I meditated and prayed for his guidance. I asked him what he thought, and he spoke to me thus:
Quoth Jesus:

"I am of woman born. I came to this world through her glorious grace as she swelled and opened and brought me forth from the womb of her. I was bathed in the blood and the body of the Mother of Life as I came in. She is the first I will ever know and I am blessed to the heavens for this gift, this life. Red is the blood of Creation. All my blessed life I squirmed and walked and danced naked upon the fertile green wonder beneath my feet, this place, this home, this belly warm. Green is the blood of the plants that sustain all Life.

Quite honestly, I love the red and the green, but I don't like Christmas, even though I'm Jesus and it's my birthday and everything. I know you all mean well, but it really bothers me...

For one thing, no one ever asks me what I want for Christmas. Don't you even want to know what I want? Okay, I'm gonna tell you. Maybe if I do then finally I might get my Christmas wish. Here it is: I want people to stop dropping bombs on each other in my name. Do you hear me? I want the warmongering profiteers to stop pillaging and sucking the lifeblood out of earth-based, indigenous peoples, turning them into fodder for corporate machinery to continue to produce more and more things that are designed to be thrown away. I pray thee, not in my name! I never gave my blessings upon these acts. It makes me sad and sick.

Speaking of sadness and sickness, another thing I want for Christmas is: I want off this fucking cross, okay? Jesus! Isn't it enough already? Don't you want to move on? How can you affix your gaze upon the symbol of my ghastly torture and think you can just go off and have a nice day. Don't you see that you create from that upon which you focus? If you can get rid of this ghoulish necrophilic visual, you can finally free my immortal soul from this perpetual torture, and then maybe you can see my true nature and hear what it is I really came here to say. Hello! No seriously, if you love me, you will take me down off of this thing. It's what I want for
Christmas, for god's sake, it's the holidays, I feel like dancing, wanna drink some eggnog...

This Christmas I want the people of the Earth to celebrate Birth, the birth of life itself and of every being as all are the children of God. I am but one sacred son, with a big reputation for telling the truth. Then may it be known that all prayers lead me to you, for you are my reflection. Behold the Kingdom of God is within you. Haven't I said that already? What part of the kingdom of God is within you don't you understand?

Your power, today, my sistren and brethren, is in the almighty dollar. If you are politically and spiritually in opposition to the heinous killing spree conducted to advance the values of corporate capitalism, blood for oil, the spread of western monoculture, a McDonald's in every village, all must now buy seeds from Monsanto that are engineered so they cannot turn a second crop... If you are strong enough to hold yourselves accountable for your part upholding the system that is essentially a suicide pact, then this Christmas you will use the almighty dollar as a tool of conscious evolution.

For Christmas, I, the Lord Jesus Christ, wish to see an economic boycott of Christmas. I pray thee, stop shopping! Make my Christmas wish come true by not buying presents, withdraw your support of the economic system that is holding you and me and the whole world hostage. Don't use gas to drive around shopping, chill at home with your tribe. Don't travel far and wide to visit family, just this Christmas, don't fly, just stay put for the Love of God, and redefine the family unit as those with whom you share an affinity and proximity. So that we can demonstrate to ourselves our real power to vote. Then we can sit back and watch shit come to a screeching halt. Yes! (I love upheaval...it's so full of possibility)

And now, a holiday message for you and your family from the lord Jesus Christ:

Put Your Money where your Heart is...
Boycott Christmas,
Stop Shopping!

For the love of God, for one full week...On December 25th, celebrate Birth Day, the day the people of the earth remembered that they were all the divine children of God.
And then, on January 1st at 12:00 Midnight, Celebrate the New Year 2005 as the year Americans learned how to truly vote."

Well, there you have it. It may seem farfetched, but as some of my best friends say,

"It's a tall order, but we're taller...
So let's push things forward..."

Season's Greetings,
Felicity Artemis

---

So, starting December 18th, I'm not buying anything. From anywhere. I'll stock up on Soymilk Nog the week before and celebrate Yule in style--either with my family or my friends. And, it looks like, here, because I don't think I'm going to have enough money to get my ass to Canada and then India. I'm probably going to put off Canada till Jan 15th. Which works, because then I can probably make it to the orientations for classes in Jan.

There you have it: Christmas sucks. Celebrate Yule instead. Or Ramadan. Or Kwanza, or Hanukkah, or NOTHING. Celebrate the fact that you're alive on Goddess's green earth, that you have your health, and that you're not dying a miserable death in Fallujah, American or Iraqi. Isn't that enough, for Christ's sake?

--Your Entirely Bitter Universe

Opening Theme -- FFXI

I mended my jeans today using fabric from a shirt that was longsleeved and is not anymore. Now my jeans and my shirt match. (For those who don't know: my jeans had a huge rip in a strategic place that made it necessary for me to wear boxers. Now that rip is plaid.)

---

Talking to my brother right now, actually. I haven't talked to him in ages, so this is nice. He just started another RPG game which is listed in the Online Games section I just added to my Stuff section. I'm joining up. And the game can use some more players, so if you're into that, go for it.

---

The boys moved some more stuff into the house today, and on Friday R and I are going to go and decide on how to split up our room.

---

And now I have to go, b/c the crap computer I'm on can't handle me blogging and iming at the same time.


--The Universe

Trickle Down

Names and what they mean

From the Harry Potter universe:

Harry: Army Ruler
Ron: Advisor to the King
Hermione: Earthy
Lucius: Bringer of Light
Sirius: Sparkling, Scorching
Neville: New Town
Ginny: Pure, Virginal
Tom [Riddle]: A twin
George: Farmer
Fred: Peaceful Ruler
Draco: Dragon
Minvera: Goddess of Wisdom

From Friends:

Monica: Advisor
Chandler: Candle-maker
Ross: Peninsula
Rachel: Innocent Lamb
Joey: God Will Increase
Phoebe: Bright, Shining One

From Family Guy:

Peter: A Rock
Lois: Good
Meg: Pearl
Chris: Christ-bearer
Brian: Strong One
Stewie: Keeper of the Estate


Random:

Jag: The Universe
Susan: Lily
Jules: Youthful
Mari: Wished-for Child
Mary: Bitter
Jesus: God Will Help
Wolfgang: Path of the Wolf
Adolfo: Wolf
Ivan: God is Good
Pierce: A Rock
Kaylee: Who Is Like God
Alex: Protector of Mankind
Ryan: Young Royalty
Priscilla: Ancient
Augusta: Venerable
August: Revered, Exalted
Jacoba: Supplant
Rena: Joy
Charley: Manly, Farmer
Gerry: Spear-Warrior
Eva: Giver of Life
Kira: Dark Lady
Eric: Honorable Ruler
Alana: Peaceful, Serene

courtesy: http://www.birthdayalarm.com/name

Some of these are names of people I know in real life. Only those people will know that I'm talking about them, however, because I haven't mentioned their names on this site. Tricksy Universe, that's me!

--Jag.

Rock Paper Scissors

I promised myself I wouldn't bring it up anymore, but here it is: more psycho roomie bs. I can understand if you'd rather not read about it, so just skip if it sickens you.

Somehow, she found out that I'd posted about our fight on my blog, and so she asked Ashen for the address. Ashen wouldn't give it to her, because it's over, and she'd just be dredging up what's dead and gone to pick more fights about it, and Ashen didn't want that. "Look, she needed to vent, and she did, and it's over--she doesn't talk about it anymore. It's the past," said Ashen. So my psycho ex-roomie yells at Ashen because, apparently, Ashen was just doing 'what was convienent for her' or something. So. Any possibility there was, however small, of rebuilding our friendship, is now gone. And the dinner/mediation thing is not happening. What's the point? I'm living with the boys as of Dec 1st, and there's no conflict btwn me and Ashen or her roommate.


So, the boys moved in the couch today. I need to sew up the arm and they need to wash the pillows, and then it will be sit-able. We're getting an entertainment center, and I'm moving in my TV and VCR. As soon as R and I go to the place together, we'll decide which half of the room is his and which half is mine. There are about three ways to divide it.


I have to go home and bake a cake or two, so adieu.

wow, I rhyme.

--Jag

Last Battle -- Original Sin

Maybe I should put the artist as well as the song title.

***

Finished the Black Jewels Trilogy this morning. Cried a bit. Can't wait for Dreams Made Flesh to come out in Feb/05. It's so...wonderful....uh. *brain overloads from the wonderfulness*

***

The boys and I found a place today and signed for it. I owe R my share of the deposit, which will be in my bank account tomorrow. Begging is a full time job.

***

And now I need to go, because my brain just fizzed and stopped working.

--Jag

The Legend of Zelda by the Rabbit Joint

Doesn't the phrase "Rabbit Joint" conjure up wonderful mental pictures?

***

OK. I'm in love. With the Black Jewels Trilogy. Oh, Goddess, it's a wonderful series. *leg starts thumping ground* When Daemon and Lucivar have that rift but then they fix it and they hug and it's so SWEET! AUGH! Or this: Jaenelle: "I'm not sure what it is about the positions in variation twenty-seven that give the male the advantage, but I'm sure I'll figure it out." It makes me giggle. (If you don't know what I'm talking about, don't worry--it's not what you think.)

I have stopped reading at this point, however, because I know what happens in the next chapter and I'm delaying it for as long as possible. Part II of Queen of the Darkness. I've been reading about 300 pages a day. Easy with this series.

So. I am now actively trying to become the Sadist. I want to be suave like Daemon. Suave and flipping frightening. See, most readers want the Sadist. I want to be the Sadist. Slight distinction.

On a counter-note, if I were a character in this world, I would be a Gray-Jeweled Eryien Warlord Prince. Not a female. No. I would be an Eyrien warrior. A Warlord Prince.

***

Now that I'm done gushing, on to other things. I'm on chapter 21 of my novel, where Ghia blushes. (This doesn't happen often, folks. Ghia's not a blusher.) And I'm toying with the idea of making Jules a virgin. That would be fun. Ideas...floating in my brain...crashing into each other.

***

My computer has decided it doesn't like any kind of net connection, not just the one at school. Not wireless, not dial-up, nothing. I'm going to fix it with a hammer.

***

Did a spell last night. Mom got me the herbs. It worked out. Except for the billowing smoke that almost choked me to death and the fact that I stumbled on every word. Just a good thing I got the charcoal off the porch.

***

Next summer, I'm thinking about going back to Camp La Jolla. I need to get my body back into burn mode. 5 weeks of steady exercise + a 1700 cal a day diet will do it. Then I'm actually going to keep the weight off. Not like last time.

***

I need to go, because Mom's frothing.

--Jag

Real Emotion

Some days I feel like I'm the only one in the world who cries about the events that take place in Final Fantasy X. And I haven't even finished the game. I'm on Yunalesca, who is a bitch to beat. I beat her first two forms, got up to answer the phone, came back to the Game Over music. Which is way too upbeat. Despite not finishing the game yet (which will change when I move in with the guys, cause R has a PS2), I know what happens in the end and the sequel, because, as always, I have friends who really need to tell me. Not like I hadn't figured it out. It was the only sensible option, really, once the scene at the Al Bhed Home happened. I still would have liked to figure it out anyway. At any rate, just thinking about the love there makes me tear up...and not just at the whole Tidus/Yuna relationship, but at the other characters' personal angsts. When they're at the Farplane and Lulu says, "You always said I looked grumpy, but those were the happiest days of my life," I just lose it and bawl. Inside. And the music. The MUSIC. Oh, Goddess, the music makes my heart wrench. 1000 no kotoba, the Zanarkand theme, Real Emotion, the Hymn of the Fayth--augh! My poor heart. It can't take the strain.

***

*Note* Do not read the following paragraph if you're tired of the whole 'psycho roommate from hell' situation. I need to vent some more, but I don't necessarily need to inflict it on you guys, my faithful readers.

I'm staying at the suite one more night. Mom doesn't want me here, for some strange reason. Might be the animal sacrifices, I don't know.... At any rate, I'm going to her place tomor...tonight, as it's 4 am. Again. Funny how that happens. Got a call from a neighbor at the dorms tonight, K. He says they miss me, and that it's not as fun without me. True or not, I'm like, tell that to my roommate. Speaking of the devil, she and I are giving each other the silent treatment. Not that I care. I know that when someone keeps on talking about something, it's usually a sign that s/he cares---but with me it's still just lingering anger. Not caring--anger. As far as I'm concerned, she is no longer my friend. She is my ex-friend. And that's too bad, because I did like her, and I did enjoy hanging out with her. But the fact is that she needs lessons in anger management and little things like tact, because even before this whole thing she hurt my feelings too many times to count. (Not just mine, actually, but that's not my area of expertise.) And somehow, in some weird way, she thinks it's healthier to not vent one's feelings verbally and to just bottle them up until one does something like, I don't know, flinging furniture. Sorry. I prefer the sane way of doing things.

I don't think I've ever been angrier at someone. Not even my dad.

***

Speaking of. Ok. I've changed my college plans once more, but I'm really hot on this plan, whereas on the other plans it was just sort of, 'better than nothing'. My new plan is to get an AA at MCC and then apply to the School of the Museum of Fine Arts, an arts school in Boston, MA. I can spend 4 years in their Diploma Program doing whatever classes I want because that degree has no academic requirements. Four years of freedom. Dad's been pressuring me to move to the mainland and to go to a 'real' university. I figure--he says he'll pay for it, so why not? So I call him. He doesn't like it because I haven't 'proven' myself. He suggests I do what my sister did: work instead of going to school. He fails to notice that my sister already had her MA in Art History when she did this, and is now traipsing around Africa looking at gorillas and the like. So, long and short, I'm going, I don't give a crap what my dad says, and even if he won't pay the 25,700 for it--I'll work for it. Waitressing/prostituting.

In other father news, I told him that I'll be living with 3 guys starting Dec 1. Strangely enough, no papping noises signalling cerebral breakdown came over the phone. He asked me all sorts of questions, which I answered and basically ended with, "I trust them, Dad, they're very trustworthy, very nice guys." To which he answered, "Well, I guess if you trust them, it's ok." And he even offered to fly out here to help us get situated.

Weird.

***

I'm rereading The Black Jewels Triolgy and falling in love with it all over again. I bought myself a copy of it in one volume--an early Yuletide gift to myself. Now if I can just get X-Files--all the seasons + the movie--and Neon Genesis Evangelion on DVD, I'll be happy as a clam in...chowder. Damn. Bad analogy. I digress. Again. I spent this week's food money on books and gifts for people. Stupid? Yes. Fun? Definitely. Hungry? Oh yeah. And now, of course, after spending all my money, I realize I need some herbs for a spell that I'm doing on Friday. Herbs I don't have. Herbs I need to buy. Herbs I don't have the money for until Saturday, when I get my weekly beggar's check. (Technically, Friday, but I won't be able to access it in time and get the herbs.) So it looks like I'll be borrowing some cash from someone. I'll hit up Rs. See what he says.

***

On the subject of Friends (we weren't, but now we are), I totally think that Joey and Chandler should hook up. That's my hankering for yaoi speaking: I just watched one episode where they kissed on New Year's, and one where they made a committment by buying a table. They're perfect. ...:sigh:

***

And now, it's 4:20am, so I have to go do amazing things.

Namaste,
Jag

Dead Rain

Funny how the names of the songs I'm listening to as I write my entries kinda seem to fit with whatever's going on in my life or the weather.

Well, I haven't moved out of the dorms, basically because there's really no place for me to live until Dec. 1, when R and I move into the place and wait for Rs and I to join us. Rs, I, and I (whee, that's confusing, but I don't want to put my friends' full names in my blogs because that wouldn't be respecting their privacy) went looking for places to live today. We found two great 2br/1ba apartments. The one that's more expensive doesn't have a great view, but it does have a washer and dryer and dishwasher. The cheaper one has a wonderful view and a huge porch. Trade-offs, trade-offs. I digress. While I haven't moved out of the dorms per say, I'm not staying there right now. My things are, but I'm not. I'm staying in the suite next to my mom's office just up the street. There's a bed, a kitchen, a bathroom, and a computer and place to do my work. So I won't even consider staying at the dorms until the mtg I have on Friday with my dormmates, when we talk out this little fiasco. Even then, it's iffy. I don't feel safe there at all, and it's kinda crucial for a domestic violence survivor to feel safe. And no, I'm not doing the 'victim' thing. It's a fact. Besides...I think they'll miss me when I move all the stuff I got for the suite out of the suite--like the garbage can, the decor, the lamps, the lampshades, the shower curtain (on second thought, I think I'll leave that...it's moldy), among other things. She wanted her vengance, so I get mine: no more fringes for you, roomie!

Yes, I am decidedly evil. The thing is that I don't really feel appreciated for all I've done for our room, so I'd like to see how much she appreciates me now that my stuff is leaving. I do kind of feel bad for the innocents--my sister and her roomie--but I'm sure they'll survive, and I'm sure they understand it's not against them. If they didn't, they do now.

Well, as I'm starving and behind in classwork, I'm off to eat and study, and then maybe watch Friends.

--Jag

simple and clean

Apparently my roommate didn't study Freud too closely in psych class: "Catharsis is not an effective way to get rid of aggression/anger." This was all too clear when I waked up at about 1 pm on Saturday to find all the living room furniture overturned. I asked why she did it. "Oh, well, it felt good for me to be the one making the mess for once." Ok. I am messy. I admit it. So is my sister. We're both messy slobs. But it's not because we're mean-spirited, or because we can't recognize a mess when we see it--it's because we're absent-minded flakes. Which is okay, because it's something we're working on. We don't make messes because we don't like her, or because we're participating in a violent act of revenge. We do it because we are stupid despite our intelligence in other matters.

Now, I don't care what anyone else says, but to overturn furniture because there was some food in the sink that hadn't gone down the garbuerator yet and a bit of food on the floor that we honestly didn't notice is an act of domestic violence. I know. I grew up in a domestic violence situation, and that is exactly the same kind of shit my dad would pull: throwing furniture over one little thing. Because I grew up in a domestic violence home, I have violent tendencies--which I have been working on quite a deal. Therapy helps, and so does my own all-consuming need to not be like my father. I've learned certain skills to help me to deal with these situations. One of them is to leave. Every warrior instinct in my blood cries out for a fight to the death, but that's not really helpful or productive. I've found that a cooling off period is helpful and productive. So, I cleaned up the mess she made before heading to the mall to cool off. (I had to go somewhere, and the mall is the shortest bike ride away.) I hadn't really said anything--I'd just cleaned in silence. After I was finished waiting to use the bathroom to shower, however, she decided to pick a fight.

"There, that wasn't so hard, was it?"

"I don't know, you tell me."

"Well, I wasn't the one who cleaned."

"Yeah. I know."

"It certainly didn't take as long to clean up as one of your messes. I was going to get to it eventually. You know--like you do."

"Vengenance doesn't suit you. I'm glad I'm moving out." *slams bathroom door with enough force to rattle teeth*

My slamming of the bathroom door was the only violent act I committed in response to her bullshit. When I got out of the shower, there was a note on the door (which she'd taken the care to type out for me) that said (I'm paraphrasing because it was over 12 hrs ago and I can't remember exactly) "We all have aspects of the Goddess inside us, so don't be surprised if someone lashes out with vengance when she has been the one showing the Goddess's compassion." Basically, "It's ok because the god within me said it was!" The same juvenile bullshit the Fundies come up with. I didn't say anything. I went to the mall with my sister until sunset. I was still livid four or five hours later. I still am, and it's 4am. When we got home, my roommate acted like nothing happened.

Because I was still angry, I used my anger to start cleaning. When she talked to me, I said, "I'm still angry." Which started the knock-down drag-em-out non-physical fight that lasted until my mom arrived to pick me up (my net connection is down at home so I had to come here to do my schoolwork) and past that point. I don't remember exactly all of what was said, but I know she said it in that same snippy bitchy voice that she uses to sound superior. My voice was sarcastic and steadily rising. At one point she said, "Sarcasm doesn't suit you." I replied with, "Yeah, well, being a bitch doesn't suit you, so I guess we all make mistakes." I decided I'm moving out. I'm going to store my stuff there until the end of the semester and go and find a place to live now. I was planning on moving out next semester anyway; I'll just do it sooner. And the good thing about that is that I'll be living with 3 mentally stable people.

I'm not saying I'm all right in this whole fracas. I'm just as wrong as she is. But I did not lose my temper. I yelled, but that's not me losing my temper. Me losing my temper ends with other people losing their limbs or one of their five senses. And that's not a threat--it's the sad truth, and I wish it weren't. I try like hell to be a pacifist, but I am a naturally violent person, and it is hard to change one's inclinations. I'd like to think that I am in more control of my emotions than other people my age. I'm certainly more in control than she is.

Because here's the thing: she thinks that everything she did is right, and everything I did is wrong. She can't admit to her wrongs at all. I can. I know I'm wrong. I also know that she's wrong. And I can admit that--like an adult.

But then again, maybe I shouldn't have expected adult behavior from one who believes in the pipe dream of Anarchy and people being governed by their morals. Sure. It's a nice thought. It's not going to happen, as one can see by the example above. She certainly isn't governed by her morals.

Just a good thing I followed my morals and sense of justice today, otherwise she'd be dead and I'd be writing this from prison.

__________________________________________________________________

I'm not allowing comments on this. It's something I needed to say. I feel a bit better. I'm still angry. And as it's almost dawn, I'm going to bed.

--Jag.

ojos de brujo

Hope you all voted.

Not that it bloody matters.

Hrmmm...random updates from the world of ME.



--a friend is lending me final fantasy eight so i can finish the damn thing
--i just spent the past 20 hours or so cleaning....and i'm still not done. it's pathetic: i have to begin spring cleaning in november in order to finish by the end of may.
--i'm angry about something or other, but i don't recall what it is....
--i got my work in on time. for once.

and now i have to go, because my computer's internet connection stopped working permanently and i'm using my neighbor's computer.

namaste
jagged

the hopelessness of the youth today

VOTE OR DIE!

Seriously. Get out and VOTE. You may think that one vote won't make a difference. If you think that, you're dead wrong. One vote does, and will, make a difference. Know why? Because if a lot of people (try 50 million) think that 'one vote doesn't make a diff', then those 50 mil don't vote, and then there's 50 mil votes that are not there. And 50 mil votes make a fuck of a difference. In my estimation, if you can vote and you don't, you're a schmuck. No exceptions. I have friends who aren't voting, either because they're lazy or they forgot to register or they 'don't believe in the system.' They're all schmucks.

I don't see why the youth doesn't seem to care. We're going to inherit this planet after the adults have raped it enough. So go out and do something! Take charge! Care, for once. And don't you dare dismiss the fight that the youth of yesteryear put up for our rights. A woman's right to vote is a hard-won right. If you're female and you don't vote, you're disrespecting the work of our foremothers. No ifs, ands, or buts about it. They worked for our rights. We need to acknoweldge it and respect it. So go out and VOTE. It wasn't always this way, and if Shrub 'wins', it won't be for very long.

Oprah SLAPS BUSH

As Oprah Slaps Bush With 30 states poised to smack down women's rights again, the one true savior emerges...

By Mark Morford SF Gate Columnist Wednesday, October 13, 2004

So there she was, the nation's most powerful and popular public female, kicking butt on a recent installment of her insanely beloved TV show
with the help of celeb guests (Drew Barrymore, Cameron Diaz, P. Diddy, Christina Aguilera) and galvanizing stunned women across the nation to
participate in this election, or else.

There was Oprah, doing what she does so freakishly well, cheerleading and extolling and impressing upon, getting women up and getting them angry and demanding that they exercise their hard-won right to vote and demanding that they quit dissing their feminist ancestors, the ones who worked so damn hard for suffrage and for freedom of choice and for the right to tell powerful sexist Republican men where they can shove their repressive sexist antichoice bigotry.

This was her fabulous, much-needed message: Take your rights for granted at your peril, ladies. Move, or else. Choose how you want the laws to
treat and respect you and your body -- or someone else, someone who hasn't touched a vagina for 30 years and who thinks sex is only tolerable in the dark, fully clothed and with a respectable prostitute, will choose for you.

Sound like a cliché? Same ol' quasi-feminist rally message? Not exactly. Not this time. Just imagine this: Imagine Bush filches another election in November. Nations mourn, black clouds gather, children cry, colons spasm, the remaining shreds of the American experiment wither and die.

And within a very short time, as many as 30 U.S. states have recriminalized abortion and made repressing women and hating sex fun again, as young American females everywhere who thought their right to choose was pretty much incontrovertible and indisputable and unfailing and who therefore didn't bother to vote in '00 or '04 suddenly go, oh holy freaking hell.

Hello, 1950s. Hello, coat-hanger surgery. Hello, millions of despondent daughters of uptight parents. Hello, dead or mutilated teenage girls who
suffer botched procedures. Hello, a fresh national nightmare, revisited, regurgitated, reborn. And hello again to smug right-wing males who've wanted to put women back in their place for the past 50 years. Check that: 200 years. Check that: forever.

Just a silly nightmare? Utterly impossible? A ridiculous liberal daydream? Not even close, sweetheart.

It's all about the Supreme Court, of course. Fact is, our next president will almost surely get to appoint a number of new high-court justices to
replace those who will likely retire after enduring Bush's toxic first term. They hung in there, these few -- especially stalwarts Sandra Day O'Connor and moderate, pro-choice John Paul Stevens -- hoping to
disallow the nation's highest judiciary from becoming overly stacked with homophobic self-righteous right-wing neocon wingnuts (hi, Justice
Scalia!) who would have us revert -- morally, sexually, spiritually, misogynistically -- to 1953. Check that: 1853. Check that: 1353.

With the exception of nearly useless neoconservative sycophant Clarence Thomas, not a single justice now serving on the court is under 65. Many insiders say Stevens, O'Connor and bitter old man William Rehnquist (almost 80) are all likely to retire before 2008. BushCo's chosen
replacements could easily tip the scales of the court the other direction, from its very precarious 5-4 progressive tilt to a very sneering 6-3 conservative one, a court that would then very easily overturn parts or even all of Roe v. Wade. Talk about a malicious legacy.

It gets worse. It gets nastier, more widespread. Because should Shrub swipe another term, he will also be on his way to naming more federal trial and appeals judges -- hundreds, by most counts -- than either Clinton or Reagan, the last two-term presidents. Bush could, in short and for all intents and purposes, stack the nation's courts with enough neoconservative, antichoice, antiwomen crusaders to make Strom Thurmond giggle in his grave.

Which brings us straight back to Oprah. Say what you will about the often weirdly effusive and overtly gushy and often slightly smarmy woman who just gave away 276 Pontiacs to her entire studio audience (hard to tell if that was an act of astounding generosity and beneficence, or some sort of weird punishment -- I mean, they were Pontiacs), but the woman can electrify and inspire and educate her millions of devoted viewers like nobody's business.

And if there's one famously disenfranchised and alienated and apathetic voting bloc that needs to get off its collective yoga butt and stand up and make itself known this election lest it lose an even larger chunk of its basic human rights than it even realizes, it's youngish women.

This is, after all, what so many women don't seem to know. That the Bush administration has already, in just a few short years, managed to roll back a truly astounding number of their basic rights, making it more difficult, for example, for doctors to perform abortions, or making it illegal for schools to discuss contraception or for hospitals to discuss pregnancy-termination options.

From demeaning and ineffectual abstinence-only programs to biased counseling to cutting all funding for international women's health organizations that provide care to poor women in third-world nations (hell, Bush hacked that one away in his first month in office), Dubya has done more than any president in the last 100 years to smack women upside their sexually empowered heads.

Oh and by the way, that suggestion currently being floated by some in Congress that the Iraq war has become so nasty and desperate that we might very well need to reinstate the military draft? That draft includes young women. And oh yes, Bush has already upheld the ban on abortions for servicewomen stationed overseas, even if they were raped, even if they pay for it themselves. Feeling patriotic yet?

This has been the GOP's message to women since, well, forever: Be like Laura Bush -- submissive, matronly, heavily shellacked and ever flashing
a disquieting mannequin grin, off in the corner reading stories to the kids and cutting lots of pretty ceremonial ribbons and keeping quiet
about the Important Stuff and never having sex and always be standing just out of the spotlight, secondary and inferior and in the background.
You know, right where you belong.

Truly and sadly, few indeed are the powerful and articulate public female voices in our major media to counter this ideological poison. Who, Barbara Walters? Not exactly hotly connected to youth and issues of the day. Katie Couric? About as female empowering as a terrier. Martha Stewart? Busy designing barbell cozies for the prison gym. The wholly queasy pseudo-feminists on the wholly awful "The View"? Please.

And while plethoric are the powerful women working behind the media scenes, execs and pundits and writers, senators and world leaders and even forthright, independent wives, and while there are plenty of strong-willed, outspoken female celebs making their voices known, in terms of visibility and raw power and sheer reach, nobody can touch
Oprah. Which is exactly why her message was so wonderful. Here's the bottom line: 50 million eligible women didn't vote in 2000, and 22 million of them were single and nearly every one of them probably thought their vote doesn't matter and it isn't really worth it and who cares anyway because no matter who wins, everything's still pretty much
run by rich powerful men anyway. Which is, you know, sort of true. But not quite.

Because as Oprah knows, there are powerful men who get it and who love women and who understand their issues and who have cool articulate daughters and opinionated self-defined multilingual firebrand wives (Hi, Teresa), and there are aww-shucks antichoice Texans with lifeless token wives who think your body is government property and you should just pipe down and keep your damn legs closed and go pray to an angry Republican God to forgive your plentiful vagina-induced sins.

Hey, it's your choice. But not for long.

/Mark Morford's Notes & Errata column appears every Wednesday and Friday on SF Gate, unless it appears on Tuesdays and Thursdays, which it never does. Subscribe to this column at sfgate.com/newsletters. /
/ /
/URL: http://sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?file=/g/a/2004/10/13/
notes101304.DTL ©2004 SF Gate /

"This conjunction of an immense military establishment and a large arms industry is new in the American experience. The total influence, economic, political, even spiritual, is felt in every city, every state house, every office of the Federal government."

--President Dwight D. Eisenhower's Farewell Address to the Nation

Flowers Become Screens

Another sleepless night. Life has become an utter hell. I haven't had a decent night's sleep in
weeks. And when I sleep during the day I wake up with a mild-to-serious heat stroke and a fever.
My head and the inside of the freezer have become very good friends. Mind you, we've had nothing but
90-degree days for the past three or four months here, so it's very hot. And my bedroom faces east.
East with a great big field that just clears the way for Mr. I'm-going-to-burn-your-eyeballs-out-Sun. I just hope
my sleep schedule gets back to normal sometime soon. It does this.... Bastard.

Oh, here comes the sun now. *skin sizzles* Sigh. Can't win.

Go here: http://boymeetsboy.keenspace.com


["My mother was Satan. My father was a lawyer. I'm EVIL INCARNATE." --Tabitha, at BMB.]


Tasteful and romantic yaoi. *sighs wistfully*

Gotta fly!

Tabitha...I mean Jagged

the fact that i adore you is but one of my truths

Funny how the depression hits right when my life is going *great*.

Taught our Japanese dormmate a new English word today: 'fucktard'. To demonstrate, I said that "T" was a 'fucktard.' That was great.

If you want to know how i'm feeling right now, go here: http://www.geocities.com/pirategoddessjessamin/lyrics_schoolnight.html

I listen to the song much too much.

goddess i miss him.

till another hellish day,

jagged

Muchas Gracias

Thank you Phases, for the html advice. It's working now. (Strangely enough, I tried the HTML view thing before and it didn't work. Go figure.)

Yes, I am an angry person. Ask Ashen about it--she lives with me. She says it's one of my finer points. And, frankly, I'd worry about anyone who isn't at least a little angry with the state of affairs in the world today.

And I do support the soldiers--as much as I support them coming home. It's a pointless war, with pointless deaths, and the outcome does not justify them. I have friends who are soldiers. I say good on them, because I know that they do it because of their passionate belief that they're doing something right. I can't say that I share that belief, but I do support them as a friend. However....the amount of emails saying 'pray for the soldiers' that goes out is ridiculous. You never see emails that say 'pray for the Iraqis' just as you would have never seen any 'pray for the Germans who don't agree with Hitler' paraphanalia during WW2. My point is that America is self-centered.


I am not apologizing for anything. I am explaining. And saying thank you for your help.

--Jag

How sexy is your name?

According to studies, the first letter of your first name reveals your sexual identity.

A – You are not particularly romantic, but you are interested in action. You mean business. With you, what you see is what you get. You have no patience for flirting and can't be bothered with someone who is trying to be coy, cute, demure, and subtly enticing. You are an up front person. When it comes to sex, it's action that counts not obscure hints. Your mate's physical attractiveness is important to you. You find the chase and challenge of the "hunt" invigorating. You are passionate and sexual as well as being much more adventurous than you appear; however, you do not go around advertising these qualities. Your physical needs are your primary concern.

B – You give off vibes of lazy sensuality. You enjoy being romanced, wined, and dined. You are very happy to receive gifts as an expression of the affection of your lover. You want to be pampered and know how to pamper your mate. You are private in your expression of endearments and particularly when it comes to lovemaking. You will hold off until everything meets with your approval. You can control your appetite and abstain from sex if need be. You require new sensations and experiences. You are willing to experiment.

C – You are a very social individual, and it is important to you to have a relationship. You require closeness and togetherness. You must be able to talk to your sex partner before, during, and after. You want the object of your affection to be socially acceptable and good looking. You see your lover as a friend and companion. You are very sexual and sensual, needing someone to appreciate and almost worship you. When this cannot be achieved, you have the ability to go for long periods without sexual activity. You are an expert at controlling your desires and doing without.

D – Once you get it into your head that you want someone, you move full steam ahead in pursuit. You do not give up your quest easily. You are nurturing and caring. If someone has a problem, this turns you on. You are highly sexual, passionate, loyal, and intense in your involvement, sometimes possessive and jealous. Sex to you is a pleasure to be enjoyed. You are stimulated by the eccentric and unusual, having a free and open.

E – Your greatest need is to talk. If your date is not a good listener, you have trouble relating. A person must be intellectually stimulating or you are not interested sexually. You need a friend for a lover and a companion for a bedmate. You hate disharmony and disruption, but you do enjoy a good argument once in a while it seems to stir things up. You flirt a lot, for the challenge is more important than the sexual act for you, but once you give your heart away, you are uncompromisingly loyal. When you don't have a good lover to fall asleep with, you will fall asleep with a good book. Sometimes, in fact, you prefer a good book.

F – You are idealistic and romantic, putting your lover on a pedestal. You look for the very best mate you can find. You are a flirt, yet once committed, you are very loyal. You are sensuous, sexual, and privately passionate. Publicly, you can be showy, extravagant, and gallant. You are born romantic. Dramatic love scenes are your favorite fantasy pastime. You can be a very generous lover.

G – You are fastidious, seeking perfection within yourself and your lover. You respond to a lover who is your intellectual equal or superior, and one who can enhance your status. You are sensuous and know how to reach the peak of erotic stimulation, because you work at it meticulously. You can be extremely active sexually that is, when you find the time. Your duties and responsibilities take precedence over everything else. You may have difficulty getting emotionally close to a lover, but no trouble getting close sexually.

H – You seek a mate who can enhance your reputation and earning ability. You will be very generous to your lover once you have attained a commitment. Your gifts are actually an investment in your partner. Before the commitment, though, you tend to be frugal in your spending and dating habits and equally cautious in your sexual involvement. You are a sensual and patient lover.

I – You have a great need to be loved, appreciated... even worshipped. You enjoy luxury, sensuality, and pleasures of the flesh. You look for lovers who know what they are doing. You are not interested in an amateur, unless that amateur wants a tutor. You are fussy and exacting about having your desires satisfied. You are willing to experiment and try new modes of sexual expression. You bore easily and thus require sexual adventure and change. You are more sensual than sexual, but you are sometimes downright lustful.

J – You are totally fucking marvelous!

K – You can be very romantic, attached to the glamour of love. Having a partner is of paramount importance to you. You are free in your expression of love and are willing to take chances, try new sexual experiences and partners, provided it's all in good taste. Brains turn you on. You must feel that your partner is intellectually stimulating, otherwise you will find it difficult to sustain the relationship. You require loving, cuddling, wining, and dining to know that you're being appreciated.

L – You are very romantic, idealistic, and somehow you believe that to love means to suffer. You wind up serving your mate or attracting people who have unusual troubles. You see yourself as your lover's savior. You are sincere, passionate, lustful, and dreamy. You can't help falling in love. You really enjoy stimulating yourself, though you are fairly new to it. You fantasize and get turned on by movies and magazines. You do not tell others of this secret life, nor of your sexual fantasies.

M – You are emotional and intense. When involved in a relationship, you throw your entire being into it. Nothing stops you; there are no holds barred. You are all consuming and crave someone who is equally passionate and intense. You believe in total sexual freedom. You are willing to try anything and everything. Your supply of sexual energy is inexhaustible. You also enjoy mothering your mate.

N – You are crap in bed. Much practice and learning is needed.

O – You are very interested in sexual activities yet secretive and shy about your desires. You can re-channel much of your sexual energy into making money and/or seeking power. You can easily have extended periods of celibacy. You are a passionate, compassionate, sexual lover, requiring the same qualities from your mate. Sex is serious business; thus you demand intensity and diversity, and are willing to try anything or anyone. Sometimes your passions turn to possessiveness, which must be kept in check.

P – You are very conscious of social proprieties. You wouldn't think of doing anything that might harm your image or reputation. Appearances count, therefore, you require a good-looking partner. You also require an intelligent partner. Oddly enough, you may view your partner as your enemy; A good fight stimulates those sex vibes. You are relatively free of sexual hang-ups. You are willing to experiment and try new ways of doing things. You are very social and sensual; you enjoy flirting and need a good deal of physical gratification.

Q – You require constant activity and stimulation. You have tremendous physical energy. It is not easy for a partner to keep up with you, sexually or otherwise. You are an enthusiastic lover and tend to be attracted to people of other ethnic groups. You need romance, hearts and flowers, and lots of conversation to turn you on and keep you going.

R – You are a no-nonsense, action-oriented individual. You need someone who can keep pace with you and who is your intellectual equal the smarter the better. You are turned on more quickly by a great mind than by a great body. However, physical attractiveness is very important to you. You have to be proud of your partner. You are privately very sexy, but you do not brag, you are willing to serve as teacher. Sex is important; you can be a very demanding playmate.

S – You are secretive, self-contained, and shy. You are very sexy, sensual, and passionate, but you do not let on to this. Only in intimate privacy will this part of your nature reveal itself. When it gets down to the nitty-gritty, you are an expert. You know all the little tricks of the trade, can play any role or any game, and take your love life very seriously. You don't fool around. You have the patience to wait for the right person to come along.

T - You are very sensitive, private, and sexually passive; you like a partner who takes the lead. Music, soft lights and romantic thoughts turn you on. You fantasize, but do not tend to fall in and out of love easily. When in love, you are romantic, idealistic, mushy, and extremely intense. You enjoy having your senses and your feelings stimulated, titillated, and teased. You are a great flirt. You can make your relationships fit your dreams, oftentimes all in your own head.

U – You are enthusiastic and idealistic when in love. When not in love, you are in love with love, always looking for someone to adore. You see romance as a challenge. You are a roamer and need adventure, excitement, and freedom. You deal in potential relationships. You enjoy giving gifts and enjoy seeing your mate looking good. Your sex drive is strong and you desire instant ratification. You are willing to put your partner's pleasures above your own.

V – You are individualistic, and you need freedom, space, and excitement. You wait until you know someone well before committing yourself. Knowing someone means psycho-ing him out. You feel a need to get into his head to see what makes him tick. You are attracted to eccentric types. Often there is an age difference between you and your lover. You respond to danger, thrills, and suspense. The gay scene turns you on, even though you yourself may not be a participant.

W – You are very proud, determined, and you refuse to take no for an answer when pursuing love. Your ego is at stake. You are romantic, idealistic, and often in love with love itself, not seeing your partner as he or she really is. You feel deeply and throw all of yourself into your relationships. Nothing is too good for your lover. You enjoy playing love games.

X – You need constant stimulation because you bore quickly. You can handle more than one relationship at a time with ease. You can't shut off your mind. You talk while you make love. You can have the greatest love affairs, all by yourself, in your own head.

Y – You are sexual, sensual, and very independent. If you can't have it your way, you will forgo the whole thing. You want to control your relationships, which doesn't always work out too well. You respond to physical stimulation, enjoy necking and spending hours just touching, feeling and exploring. However, if you can spend your time making money, you will give up the pleasures of the flesh for the moment. You need to prove to yourself and your partner what great lover you are. You want feedback on your performance. You are an open, stimulating, romantic bedmate.

Z – For you, it is business before pleasure. If you are in any way bothered by career, business, or money concerns, you find it very hard to relax and get into the mood. You can be romantically idealistic to a fault and are capable of much sensuality. But you never lose control of your emotions. You are very careful and cautious before you give your heart away and your body, for that matter. Once you make the commitment, though, you stick like glue.

**********************************************************************************

Well, my initials are J.J. Guess I'm fucking marvelous. Now I wonder why I can't get a date? Not that it matters, as I've taken a vow of celibacy. (Of course, one might wonder why I took that vow...hurts less than being undesirable, I suppose?)

Anyway. I got this off Ask Hagatha. Thought it'd be fun to post.

Love and mouseheads
Jagged

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


"Time heals all wounds. So does ale."


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


"Love helps time pass; time helps love pass."


-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Mike Hardware was the kind of private eye who didn't know the
meaning of the word 'fear'; a man who could laugh in the face of danger
and spit in the eye of death -- in short, a moron with suicidal
tendencies."

(I don't know who wrote this and I don't take credit for it.)

No one mourns the wicked

Had a weird dream last night:

My old high school wanted to put on The Wiz again with the original cast of characters. I was slim in the dream, and I wanted Evillene's costume to be black tights, a leopard print leotard, and my black mesh shirt. Ms. L. was mad, though, because I was singing No Good Deed instead of No Bad News.


Yeah. Weird.

**********************

I'm eating breakfast right now at 3 in the afternoon, which is a sordid affair involving a spoon and a pint of Ben and Jerry's. Aah, college life.

**********************

I hate hypocrisy. Like when people tell you to pick up after yourself yet their laundry is strewn all over the place. Just as a random example.

**********************

Had a mild panic this morning at 4 am. I found a lump in my armpit. I immediately thought this little monologue, or something like it: A lump! Oh my goddess, cancer! Oh, I'm going to die! I'm 18, I'm too young to die! What about my career as a broadway star? Oh, will this screw up the trip to Guatemala? What about my classes? Will I need chemo? Will I lose a breast and look like an Amazon, which would improve my archery skills but kill my sex life dead like a lightning bolt hits a frog?

Mind you, I hadn't slept, so I was a bit paranoid. So I got it checked out and it's a surface lump. Slap some hydrocortisone cream on it and I'll be good as new. Or good as I was before, which was slightly used.

**********************

Well, I just finished the pint, meaning I'm out of ice cream, meaning I need to go shopping with the 15-odd dollars I have to last me till Tuesday. Fun.

**********************

"My road of good intentions led where such roads always lead..." --Elphaba, Wicked, No Good Deed.


**********************


Adiosa all
Jagged

Ethnocentrism and the functions of terrible things

I just got an email from someone I know who wrote to someone in Korea, basically saying that because of the abuse suffered by dogs and cats in that country, the entire country was at fault and should be nuked out of existence.

Isn't this the same kind of stuff that our Great World Leaders® are saying?

Look: I do not, under any circumstances, condone the abuse of animals, human or non-human. I do not condone eating the meat of endangered or non-endangered species. I think we have to be strict with ourselves to restore the Balance. But just because I do not condone these practices does not mean I condone the outright hate bordering on racism towards the countries that practice them. I do not hate Japan or Japanese people because the Wal-Marts there sell whale meat, and neither do I hate Korea because they torture dogs and cats for the sake of their mens' libidos.

I do also recognize that at one point there was probably a function for these practices, and while recognizing that I must point out to anyone who does condone the torture of non-/human animals for these reasons that there is no more function for these practices and they should stop.

This person I know (who shall not be named) is right in her thinking that torture of any species is wrong. She is wrong to insult all of Korea, and to say that it's all the mens' fault as well. We have no one to blame but ourselves, as humans, as men, as women. Blaming everything on one gender or one culture is as wrong as torturing other species. We must have Balance.



Ok, rant's over. It just pisses me off that well-educated people (try about 5 degrees) can be so narrow-minded.

************************

And as for my last post.....


let me explain.


I am a straight-A student, mostly. I'm not bragging, it's just fact. I've bullshitted my way through the past 4 years of High School, and I apparently and wrongly thought I could do the same in college. I'm carrying 20 credits this semester and I just had a nervous breakdown, wherein one of my A's most definitely turned into a C if not a D. This, combined with the fact that I don't know where my next meal is coming from let alone whether or not I'm ever going to get to Guatemala, and my excruiciating ear infection, sparked my dormant suicidal-tendencies. Now, I wouldn't really kill myself, as my dormmates would stop me, but I was, at one point, very very depressed for a period of 9 years. I fought it and won but didn't realize how easy it was to slip and fall again. I'm regaining unsteady footing, but it's better than nothing. I should be fine if we sell our house soon, so I can have some money.


Thank you for all your concern and warm wishes. I promise not to kill myself. I'm much better now, and the ear infection is almost totally gone.



**************************

In other, less serious news, I cut my hair short because I didn't feel like combing out the dreadlocks that had appeared in about 5 days of not brushing. It's much better now, and one of our dorm-buddies from across the hall brushed it and cut it for me, so it looks pretty cool for a kitchen-scissor-hair-cut.


**************************

I've decided: I'll shave when I'm slim. For those of you living with me, you know what I'm talking about. Anyone else probably does not want to know.

**************************


I finished half a Latin lesson, part of my way-overdue World Civ work, and I should be....ok....maybe....for my courses. Not fine, not good, but ok...maybe. Cross your fingers that I don't go postal.

*****************************

Ok.

I need to go and sleep, wash my hair, among other things, but not in that order.

Nos da, cariad!
(Welsh for "Good night, sweetheart!")

Jagged.....slowly smoothing over time.

slits wrists

I'm going to kill myself. In an interesting fashion. Over a period of time.




STRUMPET! OUT, STRUMPET! TART! AS;DKLFHVB'ADS.KJBJVA;SDKNVKLASDJFL;KSADJF;LKSADL;KFAS;LKDFJ;SADLFKJSA;LDFJ;LSAJKFSDL;KFJSALD.



Ok, now that that's over with.



adios
jag

Re: all those fecking emails

You know those emails that say "PRAY FOR THE SOLDIERS!" and ask you to forward them on to ten gazillion people? I fecking HATE them. So here's my response:

Let me just say:

a: I don't need to send on a chain letter for someone to say "I love you" to me, so that's not why I'm sending it.

b: How about offering a prayer for all the innocent Iraqi civilians that died in the Great Fictitious War? How about a prayer for all the people we killed when we bombed the crap out of Kosovo on April 20th, 1999 (ironically the same day as the Columbine incident)? How about a prayer for all the Chileans murdered in the U.S. coup on September 11th, 1973? There are others out there in need of our prayers. Don't narrow your views to think that only America matters. We are one race--the human race. We are brothers and sisters. We are one family on this dying earth. If we lose touch with our roots, we are forever lost.

Fucking patriotism.

fucking motherfucking shit

blogdrive and the internet are both pissing me right the fuck off right now. my computer has been infected with spyware. which sucks. and blogdrive is being a WHORE. even more so than usual.

of course, now they'll probably kick me off their site for insulting them, but I wouldn't if some features worked, like the html or the picture insert. that would be nice.


TWITCHINGFUCKINGTWITCH.

J is my favorite Letter

No, really, it is. So many wonderful things begin with J:

Jagged
My real name, which shall not be mentioned here
The name of my soul-mate (and some stupid spyware on my computer has turned this into a link to one of those fucking matchmaking things, which just pisses me right the fuck off), which shall also not be mentioned here for different reasons
Jocular
Janus-faced
Jugular
The Roman Goddess Jana
Jiggly
Jiggy

Jewel
Jules, a character from one of my books
Jolly
.........

and i went to m-w.com to find a complete list of the letter J, but the bastards no longer do so. Twitch.



in other news, i'm in so much pain right now that I literally wish to die. my ears---both of 'em---are infected, and for the past twenty minutes so and for the undefinable future, they feel like they're going to explode. I want to die. it hurts so much i can't think---i can't cry out. on top of this, i'm having gastro-intestinal pain like you wouldn't believe, or would want to know about. tmi, i know.


aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaauuuuuuuuuuuuuugggggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

that was my cry of pain that i won't articulate out loud.

yes. and don't go to my other blog. i deleted it.



i have to go scream in agony.

cheers,
jag

Sex: it's what's for dinner.

Sigh. I was trying to put in quiz results, but the blog is a whore, so it didn't fucking work.


I am in canada right now. i fucking love this country. i just spent a few days with my dad, a few days
; which we will _NOT_ talk about, godfuckit. i'm going shopping tomorrow so i can get socks
for me and ashen and other crap for my other friends.

so i'm going to bed now, becuase it's two in the fucking morning here

lvoea nd outsfdasdfaflkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk
kkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk
kkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk
kkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk
kkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk
kkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk
kkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk
kkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk
kkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk
kkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk
kkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk
kkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk

whoops, fell asleep.

love all!


jaggeed.

I can smell your brains.

Goddess how i love that site....


go here: matazone.co.uk/theotherside.html

it's wonderful.

well---yay me. i just got my first assignment in for world lit--not only on time but EARLY! yeah, baby yeah! i also am way early on my art assignment, and as of tommorrow when i get my books i'm as good as done w/ history and anthropology. and tonight i'm staying up to start on the second and /unnecessary/ assignment for world lit, b/c if we do extra work and get an excess of 900 points then we don't have to take the final. and i don't want to take the final. who does?

so...what else...know i haven't posted in a while, and this once-a-week thing will prolly be normal for a while. i'm full-time college now and i do work and travel, etc. so i'm really busy.

updates in my life...

--play is almost over, so soon i'll be free again.
--life is really ironic and the gods of fate and karma hate me...as soon as i take a vow of celibacy, all these gorgeous and wonderful people who are attracted to me come into my life.... well, ok, there is one. but still. it's a first for me, ya know?
--my vcr started working again--randomly--so now i'm renting the X-Files like crazy and watching them like crazy. goddess how i missed that show. i want to own it all in dvd.
--watched blade runner night before last (monday). wtf, mate? there is supposedly some deep philosophical meaning behind it all, but i didn't get it. i'll have to watch it again...after i've let it fester for a while.
--what else...all proper english skills have left me b/c it's past 2 in the morning. i don't intend on sleeping tonight. so you'll just have to deal with the lack of capitalization.
--harrison ford was fucking sexy in his twenties--thirties. still is, actually. course, i haven't seen him in anything very recent, but he was /damn/ in Air force one.
--found some old home videos of my first and fourth birthdays, so i started watching them. and i started sobbing like a boy who's been kicked in the nuts. boys are such babies, i tell you. anyway. all the memories of my un/happiness came flooding back and i realized how fucking dysfunctional we were as a family. just sad.
--and that's it....

i'm going to go read antigone and do the dialectic on it....or do my latin homework, or sleep or something.


nighty-night
jag

P...A...R...T...Y? Because I've GOT TO!

Yes, today, the 14th, is my 18th birthday. Now I can vote that idiot out of office. Yay me.

I work today, ironically enough...and I don't really mind, because if all goes well I can get to the tattoo parlour after work and get the Eye of Horus on my right wrist. And at dawn this morning, meaning I'm getting 2 hrs. of sleep tops, I'm doing my Dedication to Witchcraft. I'm psyched. But since my sleep is all screwy right now, I can't get to sleep until the time I need to wake up. i'm going to go take 5 sleeping pills.

mom took me out to dinner last night....she said that b/c i had to work on my bday, we'd consider friday the 13th as my bday. fine with me. double-goddess power on that day.

it's a new moon in leo on the 15th, which means....(gets book)....

"Courage: Moon in Leo

When the Moon enters the sign of Leo, that brave lion, the vibe is about courage, showmanship, physical arts such as acting, fertility, and power over others. Do you need to increase your own courage? Ask the Moon for help when She is in Leo. She'll have plenty to spread around."

Taken directly from The Complete Idiot's Guide to Wicca and Witchcraft.

Sounds good...I'm definitely in need of some courage right now.

and in numerology, my personal day number for my birthday this year is 5, the number of change. the number of the day in general is...5, the number of change. and my personal month number is 9, the number of fulfillment. yee.


okies, kiddies. see you next week, if i have time.

love and blessings
Jagged

Much the Same

Happy Lughnassadh, world!

For those of you who don't know what Lugnasadh is, it's a Pagan holiday, and as I am Pagan, I'm wishing you a happy one. I have no idea what it's for---go look it up in a Pagan book somewhere. I'm not a flippin encyclopedia.

Been a while since I've updated.

News:

• I'm slowly turning anorexic. It's wonderful. I'm starting to hate food. I won't worry for another 100 lbs.
• My sleep schedule is totally whacked. I'm screwed, pretty much.
• Work sucks.
• School sucks. I may get a B for this class, which is fine. I just want out.
• PUC does not suck but is getting better, slowly slowly. And Ashen, as you are officially a member of the group, news esp for you: CAMPAIGN COMING UP. Check the site. Here: http://www.geocities.com/puc_hi/index.html . go and do it now. i'm posting to the group later on.
• I HATE THIS CLASS! did i say that already?
• coincidentally love LAT. 100.
• i need to go and do my class work, which is now 2 days late. however, he never posted a due date for this wk so i'm assuming there is none.

si vales, valeo

(lat. for "If you are well, I am well.")

JAGged

Nothing

Yeah, I'm not listening to anything. Except my mother's conversation w/ my boss.

No, I'm not at work. Well, I am, but it's not my shift, so...blah.

Cut myself with a breadknife when I got home last night. And then I dropped half of my bagel on the floor. *sigh*

Went to the capital on Friday for the awards ceremony, which was on Saturday. There's an article on it here: http://www.acluhawaii.org/pages/news/040623AwardWinners.html; here: http://the.honoluluadvertiser.com/article/2004/Jul/15/ln/ln18a.html; and here: http://www.mauinews.com/news/story/0718202004_new07BHS0718.asp. I like the last one best. And now assuredly anyone looking at this site will know my full name, my location, and where I graduated from and where I'm going to school now. Stalkers, welcome. Not really. I have pepper spray and fists of fury.

:D

So. Aside from all that shite, um....

Worked a lot on my novel this past wk. Wrote bout 3 chapters.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Really like that transition.

And let's see. Saw Hulk last night. I don't care what anyone says, it was a good fucking movie. Stupid critics. It had heart and the soundtrack was beautiful. Cinematography was to die for. I love Ang Lee's style. Only thing that was hard to deal with was all the lab scenarios w/ the animal testing...esp. when they accidentally blew up a frog. *shudder* Testing healing w/ radiation. Yuck.

Good movie, overall.


I'm going to go now. Tired.

Adiosa
Jagged

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Keep charging the enemy as long as there is life." ~~Random fortune cookie, Vietnamese resturant.

Eden

Just got my pics from vacation back. Hugh Jackman is sexier than I remember. *sigh*

Got to see Ashen today, totally by accident, which made me ecstatic. :D We're planning illicit meetings. Illicit b/c her mom hates my guts. And my mom's guts. She hates my mom more than she hates me. She should fear me. *evil grin*

Got interviewed by the news today about winning the ACLU scholarship. Tomorrow I have to go to the capital to attend the ceremony, etc.

Applying for more scholarships through fastweb, an online scholarship service. money. money money. And Ashen must too, because she's in greater need than I am.

Got this in my email today:

Things you have to believe to be a Republican today:

- Saddam was a good guy when Reagan armed him, a bad guy when Bush's daddy made war on him, a good guy when Cheney did business with him and a bad guy when Bush needed a "we can't find Bin Laden" diversion.

- Trade with Cuba is wrong because the country is communist, but trade with China and Vietnam is vital to a spirit of international harmony.

- The United States should get out of the United Nations, and our highest national priority is enforcing U.N. resolutions against Iraq.

- A woman can't be trusted with decisions about her own body, but multi-national corporations can make decisions affecting all mankind without regulation.

- Jesus loves you, and shares your hatred of homosexuals and Hillary Clinton.

- The best way to improve military morale is to praise the troops in speeches while slashing veterans' benefits and combat pay.

- If condoms are kept out of schools, adolescents won't have sex.

- A good way to fight terrorism is to belittle our long-time allies, then demand their cooperation and money.

- Providing health care to all Iraqis is sound policy. Providing health care to all Americans is socialism.

- HMOs and insurance companies have the best interests of the public at heart.

- Global warming and tobacco's link to cancer are junk science, but creationism should be taught in schools.

- A president lying about an extramarital affair is an impeachable offense.

- A president lying to enlist support for a war in which thousands die is solid defense policy.

- Government should limit itself to the powers named in the Constitution, which include banning gay marriages and censoring the Internet.

- The public has a right to know about Hillary's cattle trades, but George Bush's driving record is none of our business.

- Being a drug addict is a moral failing and a crime, unless you're a conservative radio host. Then it's an illness, and you need our prayers for your recovery.

- You support states' rights, which means Attorney General John Ashcroft can tell states what local voter initiatives they have the right to adopt.

- What Bill Clinton did in the 1960s is of vital national interest, but what Bush did in the '80s is irrelevant.

Feel free to pass this on.
If you don't send it to at least 10 other people,
we're likely to be stuck with Bush for 4 more years.

Friends don't let friends vote Republican.

~*~
Gotta love it. And so true.

Think I'm going to go work on my novel.

And Ashen---I'm sending you a revised calendar.



Love and mousehats
JAG

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"I don't care what anyone else says, I like Hillary Clinton." ~~Brian the Dog