You ever stop looking people in the eyes because you just know you're gonna give something away? Past the point of looking guilty to where you just look terribly aloof? I think I'm walking in that direction. I've tried to stop my walking from looking like I'm doing it with any intent so it looks like I'm aimlessly wandering. Or something like that.

I wonder why I care so much that people read me. Not like you're reading my blog, but reading in the sense of people making those snap decisions that bully up someone's underworkings/fascades/etc.

I guess the biggest question I have for myself is why should I feel bad about being vaunerable with people...it's not like I always end up hurt as a reprocussion.

Oh yes, he will (with apologies to his wife).

I am a glutton for good television. I've seen both episodes of Studio 60 and I am terribly flustered. I've come to the point where I just randomly exclaim, "the pairing of Bradley Whitford and Matthew Perry alongside Tommy Schlamme and Aaron Sorkin...why is God is so good to me!?!"

I was a big fan of The West Wing. This show...well, it's just like eating toasted heaven covered in chocolate and married to two graham crackers. Can I please have s'more!?!

Also, this Heroes show? Is there no end to the geekdom that will ensue in me? Good night...it's like The 4400 but with superheroes...and no rapture.

I'm beaming.

Mmmmm...paint chips. The smell of paint is lingering and I'm not sure it's oil-based, but I think it may be and I may be on my way to being as high as a kite. I feel all warm and have crazy heartburn. Just peachy. Dad painted the office this morning for Grams and it's now disturbingly white and steril.

At least payment for my suffering is meatloaf.

I don't know if it's possible to age for a night and then turn the clock back, but that's how I felt tonight. I got home from the party, sat on the couch and had this oddly restless feeling. Super restless. Obscenely restless. I went to check out movie times but nothing I wanted to see was playing for the rest of the night. I had this need to leave the house, like I wasn't done being away from the house...and it didn't end there.

I drove around for an hour and then pulled in to Borders. I thought for sure I'd be able to find something to capture my attention, but no luck. I spent half an hour in there and walked out with nothing.

I went to Target and spent a half an hour in there. I bought some UNO cards.

I don't know what my deal is. I felt like complete crap. I don't know if it's the meds, if it's the fact that I don't want to go back to work, if I'm trying to get over the fact that the people I'm closest to aren't close enough to call up on the fly anymore. Bugh.

Anyone want to play UNO?

I had a dream last night. Well, really this morning. It's 03:40 right now. It gave me a chuckle. I had to write it down. I singed some hair off yesterday, not a lot by any means, but it inspired the dream...only in the dream there was a tommygun, and it was my hair. I took a few liberties.

"You blew my hair off?" Clara asked incredulously, kneeling over a mass of hair. She gave no notice to the gun mere inches from her head. Sunlight exposed smoke coming from the singed clump on the floor.

"You and that hair, that's all I ever hear about."

"You blew my hair off! Buster, you could have killed me!"

"Don't tempt me. I'm not in the mood for another tantrum."

"What were you thinking?"

"I was thinking you and your hair ought to get out of my sight before I do something drastic."

"Buster, you blew my hair off! Are you that dense? That's pretty fucking drastic." Clara shot up in the bathroom doorway, the pile of hair in her hands.

"Clara, I'm not kidding. Go."

Clara dove into the dress on the back of the bathroom door and ran through the bedroom. "Should I take something with me? Am I allowed back? If not, I should take something with me."

"Take this." Buster pulled his wallet out of his suit coat, tossed a few bucks and his keys her way, "Get a proper cut. Looks like trash."

So, word came this week. In three weeks time, I will not only have started training at the new job, I will be greeting my grandmother with open arms. She is moving in to help out with the cleaning and the babies and whatever else my parents can think up. She'll also be bringing her GIGANTIC weiner dog with her. This is the part that I mourn.

Don't get me wrong, I love a dog as much as the next person. I just happen to love my hardwood floors a lot, too...and when I say GIGANTIC, let me illustrate for you that this weiner dog carries herself like a basset hound...low to the ground with constant belly chafe. At least I'll be cleaning the floors much less often what with my new dust mop and all.

I feel guilty that I haven't been using this time to create. I mention this because someone asked me about it and I couldn't think of a single reason why I haven't done it other than that I've been busy being social. I mean, I've been drawing like mad, but nothing I would consider selling. I haven't touched my paints in the longest time, and I haven't really written anything in longer than that.

What to do...

Hey space cadets!

There's a GAME dance on Saturday night. I will not be attending, I'm sorry to say, but go to support Troy & Merinda as they DJ & teach the lessons for the night.

If you're not up to dancing, or are okay with going a little late, I'm going to do a movie night Saturday at 7pm. No word on the movie yet, but good times are almost guarenteed.

Good times, great memories.

I'm listening to Otis again. I love Otis. Otis knows how I feel. Oh she may be weary, and young girls, they do get weary... Granted, I know that someone else thought it up first, but Otis convinced me. He's fighting these wars with me. Oh but when she gets weary, try a little tenderness...

Went to Nebraska City with Trevor and Kristin and the Squirrels today. It was for the Applejack Festival. There were craft shows, all sorts of apple fairs, and cherry wine so sweet/sour my tongue went numb. Yikes, I know.

The craft shows reminded me of all the little crafts I was fortunate to run into in my youth. The Christmas ornaments made with safety pins and beads, kitty broom covers, and quilting stands as far as the eye could see. I thought it was just because my mom was from Missouri and brought all of her craftiness with her. I was wrong. They're a widespread epidemic.

I've made brownies. My kitchen and living room are sweltering hot now.

How is it that the bad ones are always mistaken for the good ones? Is there some sort of mark out there to seperate the two so I don't have to foul things up for myself before I've even begun digging deeper? Bah.

Anger he smiles towering in shiny metallic purple armor
Queen Jealousy, envy waits behind him
Her fiery green gown sneers at the grassy ground
Blue are the life-giving waters taken for granted
They quietly understand
The once happy turquoise armies lay opposite ready
But wonder why the fight is on

How in the world do I differentiate between the two so I don't waste my time? It's getting to be precious to me in that sort of "good lord, I've been doing this for too long" kind of way. I realize that people wait forever and a day for things to go their way. I'm sure I'm just looking for trouble.

My red is so confident that he flashes
Trophies of war and ribbons of euphoria
Orange is young, full of daring
But very unsteady for the first go round
My yellow in this case is not so mellow
In fact I'm trying to say it's frightened like me
And all these emotions of mine keep holding me from
Giving my life to a rainbow like you

So what do I do to pass the time until my day comes? I'm a tad annoyed

I'm bold, bold as love
Yeah I'm bold bold as love
I'm bold bold as love
Just ask the axis
Yeah he knows, he knows everything
I'm bold, bold as love

bold as love . jimi hendrix

Had quite the fun day with Trevor, Kristin and the brood. Leah got a ball in one of her Happy Meals shaped like Mario (Mario Bros. Mario Mario). We tossed it back and forth on and off for about two or three hours today. We watched Friends With Money (which I warned them, suckaducked) and baked cookies and then ordered pizza and watched Anchorman.
The Squirrels were fun today...Leah played dress up and fussed with my hair for a while. We read a book together and did some counting. Logan was just cute and curious (as always) and fetched the ball anytime it fell out of "lazy grab it off the floor from where we're sitting/standing" range.

Mmmm...family.

Best line overheard this weekend was from Teen Girl Squad --
StrongSad: Strongbad? Were you just first basin' it with that piece of loose leaf?



Today's Lindy In The Park was especially fun. I like when a big crowd is there, but I like little groups much better...especially when it's relatively dreary outside and we're all sweating or shivering like bandits.

Edited To Add:

So, I was talking to my sister today about things. We're okay now. Discovered there was some miscommunication between us and that's why things had gotten so bad. We did discuss a few things that I'm a little frustrated about, there's no real resolution about a few things, but she knows how I feel.

So here's what the deal is. No more talking. No more talking about people no matter how much I do or don't like them. It's gonna take time, but it's something I'm going to work on.

***

You know you want the perfect words on an occasion like this, where things are more touch and go than ebb and flow...

I don't know how to say it otherwise.

I went to two parties tonight. One I felt very relaxed at because I sensed no garbage and had no one I felt like avoiding. The other one (which is terribly unfortunate that I discribe this way because on one hand, I had a blast...albiet a guilty one) although full of shennanigans and people that either were or were considered to be family, I felt like I was tiptoeing through a minefield.

I won't lie, my heart is heavy. Hiding things isn't easy, especially if it's from someone you love. Where do I draw the line and decide that I have a voice in things? Do I say, "Hey, you've become someone else. I don't know you anymore and I don't like who you've become." Do I wait until everyone has said their piece and when they come crying to me tell them, "All those people weren't exactly wrong?"

I find hiding things from people who bring out the worst in you is also torture, When do I get the right to tell them to step off? How do I do that without invalidating their person? You ever get those brilliant flashes that go completely against anything God would want? Just say, "Hey, I was talking to God, and well, when one door closes, another one opens, and He said this one's not the one that's open." Yeah, I'm waiting for the lightening to strike, too.

Eventually those I'm speaking of will find this and know exactly who they are. I'm hoping to find some way to approach it carefully, because I know the consequences of getting it out the wrong way could end up in quite the desert and dire straits situation.

In the immortal words of Charlie Brown, "AAAAAARRRGGGHHH!"

I, beckstraordinary, being of sound mind and body, do hereby declare everything I've done since I've been unemployed that I haven't done before:

~Started a doodling journal.
~Rolled my hair in a zillion little buns while my hair was wet, waited for it to dry, and ended up with the craziest hairdo .EVAR. even if it looks good.
~Read two books in a row...I don't remember the last time I successfully attempted this.

Booyah.

CAIRNS, Australia - Steve Irwin, the hugely popular Australian television personality and conservationist known as the "Crocodile Hunter," was killed Monday by a stingray while filming off the Great Barrier Reef. He was 44.

Irwin was at Batt Reef, off the remote coast of northeastern Queensland state, shooting a segment for a series called "Ocean's Deadliest" when he swam too close to one of the animals, which have a poisonous barb on their tails, his friend and colleague John Stainton said.

"He came on top of the stingray and the stingray's barb went up and into his chest and put a hole into his heart," said Stainton, who was on board Irwin's boat at the time.

Crew members aboard the boat, Croc One, called emergency services in the nearest city, Cairns, and administered CPR as they rushed the boat to nearby Low Isle to meet a rescue helicopter. Medical staff pronounced Irwin dead when they arrived a short time later, Stainton said.

Irwin was famous for his enthusiasm for wildlife and his catchword "Crikey!" in his television program "Crocodile Hunter." First broadcast in Australia in 1992, the program was picked up by the Discovery network, catapulting Irwin to international celebrity.

He rode his image into a feature film, 2002's "The Crocodile Hunters: Collision Course" and developed the wildlife park that his parents opened, Australia Zoo, into a major tourist attraction.

"The world has lost a great wildlife icon, a passionate conservationist and one of the proudest dads on the planet," Stainton told reporters in Cairns. "He died doing what he loved best and left this world in a happy and peaceful state of mind. He would have said, 'Crocs Rule!'"

Prime Minister John Howard, who hand-picked Irwin to attend a gala barbecue to honor President Bush when he visited in 2003, said he was "shocked and distressed at Steve Irwin's sudden, untimely and freakish death."

"It's a huge loss to Australia," Howard told reporters. "He was a wonderful character. He was a passionate environmentalist. He brought joy and entertainment and excitement to millions of people."

Irwin, who made a trademark of hovering dangerously close to untethered crocodiles and leaping on their backs, spoke in rapid-fire bursts with a thick Australian accent and was almost never seen without his uniform of khaki shorts and shirt and heavy boots.

Wild animal expert Jack Hanna, who frequently appears on TV with his subjects, offered praise for Irwin.

"Steve was one of these guys, we thought of him as invincible," Hanna, director emeritus of the Columbus (Ohio) Zoo and Aquarium, told ABC's "Good Morning America" Monday.

"The guy was incredible. His knowledge was incredible," Hanna said. "Some people that are doing this stuff are actors and that type of thing, but Steve was truly a zoologist, so to speak, a person who knew what he was doing. Yes, he did things a lot of people wouldn't do. I think he knew what he was doing."

Irwin's ebullience was infectious and Australian officials sought him out for photo opportunities and to promote Australia internationally.

His public image was dented, however, in 2004 when he caused an uproar by holding his infant son in one arm while feeding large crocodiles inside a zoo pen. Irwin claimed at the time there was no danger to the child, and authorities declined to charge Irwin with violating safety regulations.

Later that year, he was accused of getting too close to penguins, a seal and humpback whales in Antarctica while making a documentary. Irwin denied any wrongdoing, and an Australian Environment Department investigation recommended no action be taken against him.

Stingrays have a serrated, toxin-loaded barb, or spine, on the top of their tail. The barb, which can be up to 10 inches long, flexes if a ray is frightened. Stings usually occur to people when they step on or swim too close to a ray and can be excruciatingly painful but are rarely fatal, said University of Queensland marine neuroscientist Shaun Collin.

Collin said he suspected Irwin died because the barb pierced under his ribcage and directly into his heart.

"It was extraordinarily bad luck. It's not easy to get spined by a stingray and to be killed by one is very rare," Collin said.

News of Irwin's death spread quickly, and tributes flowed from all quarters of society.

At Australia Zoo at Beerwah, south Queensland, floral tributes were dropped at the entrance, where a huge fake crocodile gapes. Drivers honked their horns as they passed.

"Steve, from all God's creatures, thank you. Rest in peace," was written on a card with a bouquet of native flowers.

"We're all very shocked. I don't know what the zoo will do without him. He's done so much for us, the environment and it's a big loss," said Paula Kelly, a local resident and volunteer at the zoo, after dropping off a wreath at the gate.

Stainton said Irwin's American-born wife Terri, from Eugene, Ore., had been informed of his death, and had told their daughter Bindi Sue, 8, and son Bob, who will turn 3 in December.

The couple met when she went on vacation in Australia in 1991 and visited Irwin's Australia Zoo; they were married six months later. Sometimes referred to as the "Crocodile Huntress," she costarred on her husband's television show and in his 2002 movie.

I'm sitting here eating my curried mango chicken wrap (bliss!) listening to the Zach Braff & Co. radio spotlight on indie103 out of California. I'm hiding from the craziness in the living room. I love having family come visit, but sometimes you just need a little silence and some music that brings you rest. Right now it's the Carey Bros. singing their Blue Eyes song from the Garden State soundtrack (which I remember listening to a zillion times over).

I have no plans tonight and I could really use some way to leave the house. If anyone feels up to calling me and hanging out with me, that's be awesome...and very gracious of you.

In the meantime, here are a few songs I'm going to recomend to you:

Count Basie feat. Frank Sinatra (gasp! I know...) : "Fly Me To The Moon" - the intro kicks my bum and the drums tickle me just right...should actually be the only version of this song ever created...I don't know how old Quincy Jones was when he put together this arrangement, but he had to have been a teeny weeny baby...I guess that's what happens when you surround yourself with people of vision

Duke Heitger and His Swing Band: "That's My Home" - got this one from Fautly at Cowtown and have yet to tire of it...it kinda makes me feel the same way Omaha does...*sigh*...has a lovely little homegrown brass intro and the vocals feel like they're being sung by my next door neighbor

Buddy Johnson: "Shufflin' and Rollin'" - I blame Brian for this one...and for introducing me to Buddy Johnson in general...he once described this song as the climax...it is the climax to any song list

Tegan and Sara - "Downtown" - not swing, I know, but it's still worth every penny to buy or download it...especially if you drive around downtown a lot like me...it's a fun cruising song

Oh, a couple more things. I bought a Bill Amend Foxtrot compilation book this weekend, "Camp Foxtrot." Favorite Sunday funny ever. Also, anyone been reading "Garfield" lately? Today's was so precious. I'm so happy for Jon. I might be one of the world's bigger dorks, but I'm so sappy over the whole thing. Good for him.

Smart Dogs are disgusting. Kristin and I both took one bite and promptly spit it out.

The Five Love Languages

My primary love language is probably
Quality Time
with a secondary love language being
Physical Touch.

Complete set of results

Quality Time:		12
Physical Touch:		7
Words of Affirmation:		7
Receiving Gifts:		3
Acts of Service:		1

Information

Unhappiness in relationships, according to Dr. Gary Chapman, is often due to the fact that we speak different love languages. Sometimes we don't understand our partner's requirements, or even our own. We all have a "love tank" that needs to be filled in order for us to express love to others, but there are different means by which our tank can be filled, and there are different ways that we can express love to others.

Take the quiz

I was going to wear a dress tonight. I'd worn it before. I put it on and blessings upon curses, it didn't fit. This is good because it means I am somehow smaller than the last time I put it on. However, this is bad because it means I was only able to wear it once. Like I said: blessings upon curses.

I know it's been a while since I've really written anything. I'd apologize, but I'm at quite the place right now. I feel like I'm really disheartening everyone and that is the last thing I hope for anyone. Right now I'm not really being too patient and am getting quick to anger. I've been more pissy than Trevor lately...I think I'm just pretty good at hiding that stuff. I will say that everything is annoying me lately.

Topic swirling in my head these days: Shitheads. Shitheads who are elitest. Shitheads who follow the fold because their friends are elitest. Shitheads who make me feel like shit when they drag me along in their quest for shithead elitism and I'm the all-inclusive type making it look like I'm a shithead right along with them. Damn shitheads.

Now, I apologize to all the young and innocent eyes that have just been privy to the topic swirling in my head these days. I've just found myself around a crowd of people who complain endlessly about each other and then won't play nice with anyone else. All they do is bitch and moan about everybody and don't dare believe they have anything to do with it, and thus drag everyone down to their level.

I won't lie. It felt nice to be sucked in, in the beginning, because who wants to feel left out? But the deeper I fall into this steaming pile of shitheads, the more I'm disgusted and dissapointed that it's what they've all turned out to be. It's what I've started falling into and what I hope I can rise above.

I do not believe I am in any way better than the shitheads...they have their reasons I'm sure. I'm just trying to find a balance to all this nonsense because it's turning me and a few other formerly decent people right into shitheads along with the putrid pile.

Do you ever think you're posting something dangerous? Well, eff it all if you do. People have their grudges and they can. When it's begining to poison something you love, why leave it at the level you're at when you know you can do things to bring the level up?