On Death and Dying

So last spring I picked up "On Death and Dying" by Elisabeth Kubler-Ross, and I've finally started to endeavour to read it.  I'm going to post a fear that started shouting in my mind upon reading, and also a poem in the introduction. 

I'm terrified of hospitals.  I'm terrified of what can happen in them, afraid someone will take me to one against my will (again), and afraid of what the people can do inside them.

I need to work through a specific event that happened to me while I was inpatient in 2006, but I don't know if this is an appropriate venue for that fear.  It's deeply personal what happened, and I don't really know how to work through it.

But anyway.  I don't know why I decided to read this book now.  It's been highly recommended to me for many years because for as long as I can remember, I have feared that darkness.  Anyway, out of the growing stack of books I have queued, this was the lucky one.  It's going to be quite the journey.

Let me not pray to be sheltered from 
dangers but to be fearless in facing 
   Let me not beg for the stilling of
my pain but for the heart to conquer it.
   Let me not look for allies in life's 
battlefield but to my own strength.
   Let me not crave in anxious fear to
be saved but hope for the patience to
win my freedom.
   Grant me that I may not be a
coward, feeling your mercy in my 
success alone; but let me find the grasp
of your hand in my failure.

~Rabindranath Tagore, Fruit-Gathering


"This is a Farewell Kiss, You Dog!"

Who freakin' roffled when they heard about this?


If you're out of the loop, just type "Bush Shoe" into YouTube.  Too fabulous.



I asked Mom for Aunt Anna's address, even though it was unlikely she would acknowledge me or respond. But I needed closure; I needed to go into the farmhouse. She said to wait and see if I could come with them when the lawyer gave them a date and time to finish getting the rest of their things out.

A quiet event, me, Mom, and Dad, right? Well, Aunt Shirley invited everyone. Which was fine, I didn't mind so much, but I didn't want anything. I just wanted to be there. Just for a little while. Walk through all the rooms, say goodbye to them.

I couldn't even drive up the road without choking up. I'm over 380, but it's still hard. And bridging that hill, god.

Everyone was rushing everywhere, and I felt like I was in the way most of the time. It was so perverse, so wrong that we should have to scavenge during this two-hour window, and only then. It was too quick, too everything.

All I had to do was step across the threshold and I was crying. I'm too big, I grew up, I don't fit in the house anymore. And it holds none of the warmth it once did. There is literally crap everywhere, and while it's true Grammie was a packrat, everything has been dissected by Aunt Anna, first and foremost, and then her children, and then us. I could immediately tell what rooms had been gutted for what they were worth, Grammie never had the attic clean.

I was so distraught through the whole thing I only have about half the pictures I took; I could kick myself. I know a lot of other people took pictures though.

The woodstove in the dining room. Not crackling, but cold and rusty; lifeless. No snow clothes hanging by it, no snow clumps sizzling to steam on its surface.

The stairs, from the second floor to first.

I will have to explain this one, and likely won't be able to without choking up: one day I found these rollerskates in the storage shed, and proceeded to stress Grammie to the max by rollerskating around the kitchen and wash room. After that day, she hid the rollerskates, and I was never able to find them again. Until today. I'm glad I at least still have this picture, this dirty closet wouldn't have meant anything to anyone else.

I couldn't focus for most of the time; everything was loud around me. Dad was entirely focused, and he had to be. Lawyers and legalities forbid he be allowed in the one place that was everything.

I ended up with the handful of things I randomly found, no rhyme or reason to them really. I found a hat in her bedroom, a tiny basket I was looking for for my car, just stupid things, and the things people pressed upon me. All the paintings were already off the walls or claimed; I might've liked a familiar scene. I half thought about taking one of the scruffy, disgusting rugs that she had in the living room. Not practical though.

I guess I don't really want anything, other than my childhood back, my jostled memories intact. I had a revelation from right field the other day, and it made me feel somewhat guilty: here I am, out of college, being blue collar and taking care of these animals at the shelter; feeding, mucking, tending . . . if I didn't have such a difficult teenage life and a better relationship with Dad, things could have gone so much differently. I know it's silly, but maybe if I had known then what I know now, I would've stepped up. It was too much work for two people, but Dad and Grampie did it.

It was just an idle thought, but one that brought me sadness anyway. It's stupid to think such things in retrospect, but that farm isn't going to be the S. Farm much longer. Some rich fuck is going to undercut what we're asking for and do whatever he wants with it. Demolish it, develop it, take it.

Never to romp, to wander, to sled, to hide, to explore, create mischief, chase cats, step on pincher bugs and ants, to avoid cowpies, to poke at the grain that fell through the cracks, to get lye everywhere, to climb haystacks, never. Never again. Not there.



So can I say, I am so stoked to give this Christmas gift? It is awesome, if I may say so myself.


The Farm

So I've posted before about my Gram and the farm . . . but I talked to my cousin today and she said the property was listed online. For close to $4,ooo,ooo. FOUR MILLION. Can you imagine? Can you even fucking imagine that kind of money?

I can't. Not only in general, but especially in the case. I never thought that a place of such childhood significance and beauty and all around importance could be given a price tag.

But apparently it can.

And all her family members have yet to even see/enter the property. ::sigh:: Family politics. I just want closure, that's all.



So, I surriously thought about bombarding Wench's journal with a ridiculous amount of Bowie.  As a courtesy, I will stash some good'ins here.  Note:  I will be posting on lyrical merit alone; these aren't necessarily the songs I like best musically . . . 

"Always Crashing in the Same Car"

Every chance, every chance that I take
I take it on the road
Those kilometers and the red lights
Oh, but I'm always crashing in the same car . . .


For in truth, it's the beginning of nothing
And nothing has changed
Everything has changed

For in truth, it's the beginning of an end
And nothing has changed
Everything has changed


. . . I'm sinking in the quicksand of my thought
And I ain't got the power anymore

Don't believe in yourself
Don't deceive with belief
Knowledge comes with death's release . . . 

I'm not a prophet or a stone age man
Just a mortal with the potential of a superman
I'm living on
I'm tethered to the logic of Homo Sapien
Can't take my eyes from the great salvation 
Of bullshit faith . . . 



President Elect Barack Obama's Acceptance Speech
Grant Park, Chicago
November 4th, 2008

If there is anyone out there who still doubts that America is a place where all things are possible; who still wonders if the dream of our founders is alive in our time; who still questions the power of our democracy, tonight is your answer.

It's the answer told by lines that stretched around schools and churches in numbers this nation has never seen; by people who waited three hours and four hours, many for the very first time in their lives, because they believed that this time must be different; that their voice could be that difference.

It's the answer spoken by young and old, rich and poor, Democrat and Republican, black, white, Hispanic, Asian, Native American, gay, straight, disabled and not disabled - Americans who sent a message to the world that we have never been a collection of Red States and Blue States: we are, and always will be, the United States of America.

It's the answer that led those who have been told for so long by so many to be cynical, and fearful, and doubtful of what we can achieve to put their hands on the arc of history and bend it once more toward the hope of a better day.

It's been a long time coming, but tonight, because of what we did on this day, in this election, at this defining moment, change has come to America.

I just received a very gracious call from Senator McCain. He fought long and hard in this campaign, and he's fought even longer and harder for the country he loves. He has endured sacrifices for America that most of us cannot begin to imagine, and we are better off for the service rendered by this brave and selfless leader. I congratulate him and Governor Palin for all they have achieved, and I look forward to working with them to renew this nation's promise in the months ahead.

I want to thank my partner in this journey, a man who campaigned from his heart and spoke for the men and women he grew up with on the streets of Scranton and rode with on that train home to Delaware, the Vice President-elect of the United States, Joe Biden.

I would not be standing here tonight without the unyielding support of my best friend for the last sixteen years, the rock of our family and the love of my life, our nation's next First Lady, Michelle Obama. Sasha and Malia, I love you both so much, and you have earned the new puppy that's coming with us to the White House. And while she's no longer with us, I know my grandmother is watching, along with the family that made me who I am. I miss them tonight, and know that my debt to them is beyond measure.

To my campaign manager David Plouffe, my chief strategist David Axelrod, and the best campaign team ever assembled in the history of politics - you made this happen, and I am forever grateful for what you've sacrificed to get it done.

But above all, I will never forget who this victory truly belongs to - it belongs to you.

I was never the likeliest candidate for this office. We didn't start with much money or many endorsements. Our campaign was not hatched in the halls of Washington - it began in the backyards of Des Moines and the living rooms of Concord and the front porches of Charleston.

It was built by working men and women who dug into what little savings they had to give five dollars and ten dollars and twenty dollars to this cause. It grew strength from the young people who rejected the myth of their generation's apathy; who left their homes and their families for jobs that offered little pay and less sleep; from the not-so-young people who braved the bitter cold and scorching heat to knock on the doors of perfect strangers; from the millions of Americans who volunteered, and organized, and proved that more than two centuries later, a government of the people, by the people and for the people has not perished from this Earth. This is your victory.

I know you didn't do this just to win an election and I know you didn't do it for me. You did it because you understand the enormity of the task that lies ahead. For even as we celebrate tonight, we know the challenges that tomorrow will bring are the greatest of our lifetime - two wars, a planet in peril, the worst financial crisis in a century. Even as we stand here tonight, we know there are brave Americans waking up in the deserts of Iraq and the mountains of Afghanistan to risk their lives for us. There are mothers and fathers who will lie awake after their children fall asleep and wonder how they'll make the mortgage, or pay their doctor's bills, or save enough for college. There is new energy to harness and new jobs to be created; new schools to build and threats to meet and alliances to repair.

The road ahead will be long. Our climb will be steep. We may not get there in one year or even one term, but America - I have never been more hopeful than I am tonight that we will get there. I promise you - we as a people will get there.

There will be setbacks and false starts. There are many who won't agree with every decision or policy I make as President, and we know that government can't solve every problem. But I will always be honest with you about the challenges we face. I will listen to you, especially when we disagree. And above all, I will ask you join in the work of remaking this nation the only way it's been done in America for two-hundred and twenty-one years - block by block, brick by brick, calloused hand by calloused hand.

What began twenty-one months ago in the depths of winter must not end on this autumn night. This victory alone is not the change we seek - it is only the chance for us to make that change. And that cannot happen if we go back to the way things were. It cannot happen without you.

So let us summon a new spirit of patriotism; of service and responsibility where each of us resolves to pitch in and work harder and look after not only ourselves, but each other. Let us remember that if this financial crisis taught us anything, it's that we cannot have a thriving Wall Street while Main Street suffers - in this country, we rise or fall as one nation; as one people.

Let us resist the temptation to fall back on the same partisanship and pettiness and immaturity that has poisoned our politics for so long. Let us remember that it was a man from this state who first carried the banner of the Republican Party to the White House - a party founded on the values of self-reliance, individual liberty, and national unity. Those are values we all share, and while the Democratic Party has won a great victory tonight, we do so with a measure of humility and determination to heal the divides that have held back our progress. As Lincoln said to a nation far more divided than ours, "We are not enemies, but friends...though passion may have strained it must not break our bonds of affection." And to those Americans whose support I have yet to earn - I may not have won your vote, but I hear your voices, I need your help, and I will be your President too.

And to all those watching tonight from beyond our shores, from parliaments and palaces to those who are huddled around radios in the forgotten corners of our world - our stories are singular, but our destiny is shared, and a new dawn of American leadership is at hand. To those who would tear this world down - we will defeat you. To those who seek peace and security - we support you. And to all those who have wondered if America's beacon still burns as bright - tonight we proved once more that the true strength of our nation comes not from our the might of our arms or the scale of our wealth, but from the enduring power of our ideals: democracy, liberty, opportunity, and unyielding hope.

For that is the true genius of America - that America can change. Our union can be perfected. And what we have already achieved gives us hope for what we can and must achieve tomorrow.

This election had many firsts and many stories that will be told for generations. But one that's on my mind tonight is about a woman who cast her ballot in Atlanta. She's a lot like the millions of others who stood in line to make their voice heard in this election except for one thing - Ann Nixon Cooper is 106 years old.

She was born just a generation past slavery; a time when there were no cars on the road or planes in the sky; when someone like her couldn't vote for two reasons - because she was a woman and because of the color of her skin.

And tonight, I think about all that she's seen throughout her century in America - the heartache and the hope; the struggle and the progress; the times we were told that we can't, and the people who pressed on with that American creed: Yes we can.

At a time when women's voices were silenced and their hopes dismissed, she lived to see them stand up and speak out and reach for the ballot. Yes we can.

When there was despair in the dust bowl and depression across the land, she saw a nation conquer fear itself with a New Deal, new jobs and a new sense of common purpose. Yes we can.

When the bombs fell on our harbor and tyranny threatened the world, she was there to witness a generation rise to greatness and a democracy was saved. Yes we can.

She was there for the buses in Montgomery, the hoses in Birmingham, a bridge in Selma, and a preacher from Atlanta who told a people that "We Shall Overcome." Yes we can.

A man touched down on the moon, a wall came down in Berlin, a world was connected by our own science and imagination. And this year, in this election, she touched her finger to a screen, and cast her vote, because after 106 years in America, through the best of times and the darkest of hours, she knows how America can change. Yes we can.

America, we have come so far. We have seen so much. But there is so much more to do. So tonight, let us ask ourselves - if our children should live to see the next century; if my daughters should be so lucky to live as long as Ann Nixon Cooper, what change will they see? What progress will we have made?

This is our chance to answer that call. This is our moment. This is our time - to put our people back to work and open doors of opportunity for our kids; to restore prosperity and promote the cause of peace; to reclaim the American Dream and reaffirm that fundamental truth - that out of many, we are one; that while we breathe, we hope, and where we are met with cynicism, and doubt, and those who tell us that we can't, we will respond with that timeless creed that sums up the spirit of a people:

Yes We Can. Thank you, God bless you, and may God Bless the United States of America.



These past two weeks have been nothing short of the longest rollercoaster I can recollect. First, I have a week or so long fight/argument with Ed about buying a new car, financial prowess, and how our life choices affect who we are. We don't exactly have a meeting of the minds, but we're good. Then, I get fired from my job. Note, during the whole fiscal nonsense, I defended my employment. Irony, I has it. Now today, after speaking with my boss' boss, I'm still employed. I was never fired. Everything will be as it was, only different. I am . . . overwhelmed with everything that has occurred, so much so I can't even really document it. I was so ready to advocate for myself and do what I had to do to be heard, and I actually was. It was surprising. I wasn't prepared for a reprieve. I embrace it, of course. And will make the most of it. It's just so strange. So very strange.


These Amuse Me . . .

. . . and I don't know why.  From Wenchie.

1.  Ever been given an engagement ring?  No.  Expecting one in the nearish future, but no pressing plans.
2.  Longest relationship?  Goin' on 5 years.  Love my Ed.
3.  Last gift you received?  Mom paid for my car insurance.  It's great being an adult.
4.  Ever dropped a cellphone?  Many times.
5.  Last time you worked out?  Ha.
6.  Thing(s) you spend a lot of money on?  Student loans.  Biggest expense.  ::sigh::
7.  Last food you ate?  Slice of Vermont cheddar from the Deli at Giant.  
8.  First thing you notice about the opposite sex?  Silly question, really.  Everyone sizes up people at first glance innately.  
9.  One favourite song?  "New Soul" by Yael Naim has been in my head.
10.  Where do you live?  PA.  So you better be nice to me, I hear my vote is quite consequential.
11.  High school you attended:  OJR.
12.  Cellphone service provider:  Verizon.  They be good to me.  Ever checked out the GPS feature?  I don't know how I ever lived without it.
13.  Favourite mall store:  I'm not big on shopping.  I will admit that Hot Topic amuses me however.  Now that it's cool and mainstream though it really has lost its awesome for me.
14.  Longest job you had:  I worked for dining services at college for four years.  Kick ass.
15.  Do you own a pair of dice?  I have a 20-sided die for keeping track of my life in Magic . . . (^_^)'
16.  Do you prank call people?  I watch /b/ do so with relish.
17.  Last wedding you attended?  J & D's, 2004.  It's been a while.
18.  First friend you'd call if you won the lottery:  I dunno.  I would probably call my lenders first, lawl.
19.  Last time you saw your best friend?  Ugh, see previous posts.
20.  Favourite fast food restaurant:  Um, I dunno.  I grew up a McDonald's kid.  I don't really want to discuss fatty fat fatness.
21.  Biggest lie you have ever heard:  I make sure not to hold on to negativity for long.
22.  Where's your favourite place to eat with friends?  Pat's.
23.  Can you cook?  If by cook you mean follow the instructions on a label.
24.  What car do you drive?  As of yesterday, I am the proud owner of a Chevy Aveo!  Beep beep!
25.  Best kisser?  I haven't kissed everyone, so I can't possibly know.
26.  Last time you cried?  Yesterday.  But let's really not discuss why yet.
27.  Most disliked foods:  sourkraut, however you spell it.  Ed harasses me for disliking cheesecake.
28.  Thing you like most about yourself:  going to agree with wench - resilience.  Endurance.  
29.  Thing you dislike most about yourself:  Gah.  A lot.
30.  Longest shift you have worked at a job?  A "suicide" at the ol' Gateway of 12 hours.
31.  Favourite movie?  Too many to decide.  
32.  Can you sing?  Well.
33.  Last concert attended?  I believe it was Sarah Brightman with Ed?  Either that or Bernadette Peters.
34.  Last kiss?  Ed.
35.  Last movie rented?  Ha, Ed ordered "Rescuers Down Under" by mistake.  It was a good dose of nostalgia.
36.  One thing you'd never leave the house without:  cellphone.
37.  Favourite vacation spot:  Daytona Beach, FL was fabulous.
38.  Laptop or desktop computer?  Love my desktop, but Ed's new Navi is quite the treat.  There's nothing like surfing the web laying down.
39.  Favourite comedian:  Robin Williams, Brian Reagan, Dane Cook, various others.
40.  Do you smoke?  Occasionally.  
41.  Sleep with or without clothes?  I prefer to be in clothes.
42.  Who sleeps with you every night?  Ed and TOBIAS!  Don't tell Ed he wasn't in caps too.
43.  Do long distance relationships work?  I've never really had one.
44.  How many times have you been pulled over by the police?  Once.  And he was courteous enough to assume I had been drinking rather than asking me. 
45.  Pancakes or French Toast?  Pancakes.  Although Denny's French Toast has been trying to vie for my order.
46.  Do you like coffee?  Hazelnut, please!
47.  How do you like your eggs?  Scrambled or omeleted, please.
48.  Do you believe in Astrology?  I've never really delved into it, but I believe the patterns and cyclical nature are of note.
49.  Last person you talked to on the phone?  Becki.  
50.  Last person on your missed call list?  Probably Bern.
51.  What was the last text you received?  "Good luck" from Crystal.  
52.  Number of pillows?  Two.
53.  What are you wearing right now?  3/4 sleeve shirt, earth tones.  Jeans.  Jeans coming off very soon.  Screw you jeans.
54.  Pick a lyric, any lyric:  We're listening to Queen right now . . . 
"Everyday - I try and I try and I try -
But everybody wants to put me down
They say I'm goin' crazy
They say I got a lot of water in my brain
Got no common sense
I got nobody left to believe . . . "
55.  What kind of jelly do you like on your PB&J?  I switch it up, get something different every time I get a new jar.  Always the all fruit stuff though.  Eff Smuckers. Found mold in a jar upon opening.
56.  Can you play pool?  Yeah.  Won't win though.
57.  Can you swim?  Love swimming.
58.  Favourite ice cream:  Mint chocolate chip.
59.  Do you like maps?  I have no need of them.
60.  Tell a random fact about yourself:  I don't know what normal is.  In a very serious sense.
61.  Ever attend a theme party?  A pirate party, arrrrrr!
62.  What is your favourite season?  Spring.
63.  Last time you laughed at something stupid:  /b/, most likely.
64.  What time did you wake up this morning?  9ish.
65.  Best thing about winter?  Used to be snow days, but adults don't get those.  Used to be sledding at Grammie's, but she doesn't exist anymore.
66.  Name of your first pet?  Don't remember.  It was a goldfish.  
67.  Do you think pirates are cool or overrated?  They coo' with me.
68.  What are you doing this weekend?  Job hunting.  Let's not discuss it.
69.  Birthdate:  May 12.
70.  What do you want to be?  Me.  Well.

Done with this.




How did I NOT KNOW that Sarah Brightman released a new album 10 months ago?  Stupid, stupid, stupid!  Just found "Fleur du Mal" on YouTube, and I was like, wait a minute . . . a Sarah song I don't know?



I am usually a pretty passive person, but I realized that passivity left me baffled and astonished almost four years ago.

Do you really know the people you associate with? It's not courteous to discuss, but it needs to be discussed. Now more than ever. Disclaim yourself and go for broke. I wrote a now open letter to my family. Perhaps one similar can serve you well in the upcoming weeks:

Hi friends. It was about this time four years ago, after the fact, that I discovered I didn't really know my family as well as I thought I did.

Getting "into it" is unnecessary, and at best, verbose and raunchy, but I wanted to subtlely yet firmly convey how I felt about the upcoming election.

I don't know if I can go so far as to ask if you "regret" your decisions, but it has been a rough road. Just please, consider long and hard what this country means to you and how we desperately need change. Really look deep . . . beyond appearances, beyond religious affiliation, beyond the pomp, and ask who will really lead us toward the potential we had all along. Too many people are dying. Just one death was too much. The answer to lives lost is not more lives lost.

Registered affiliation aside, please just consider.



By Fire

When I pass an abandoned, half-wrecked building,
on a waste-lot, in winter, the smell of the cold
rot decides me - I am not going
to rot. I will not lie down in the ground
with the cauliflower and the eggshell mushroom,
and grow a fungus out of my stomach
steady as a foetus, my face sluicing off of me,
my Calvinist lips blooming little
broccolis, my hair growing,
my nails growing into curls of horn, so there is
always movement in my grave. If the worm
were God, let it lope, slowly, through my flesh, if its
loping were music. But I was near, when ferment
moved, in its swerving tunnels, through my father,
nightly, I have had it with that,
I am going to burn, I am going to pour my
body out as fire, as fierce
pain not felt I am leaving. The hair
will fizzle around my roasting scalp, with a
head of garlic in my pocket I am going out.
And I know what happens in the fire closet,
when the elbow tendons shrink in the heat, and I
want it to happen - I want, dead, to
pull up my hands in fists, I want
to go out as a pugilist.

~Sharon Olds, "Blood, Tin, Straw"

{"Bonfire" by Howlitzer, Deviantart}


I Go Back to October 2008

So I don't think I've ever used this journal as a forum for my more legitimate creative exploits, but I wanted to reflect on going to a reading and book signing of Sharon Olds. She's one of my favourite poets, and in 2006 I staged several of her poems for my senior project.

I did share with her, however, that I only got a "D" on it. A reflection, perhaps, of my work, but not hers.

Details aside, because it's way past my work night bedtime, I wanted to write a poem back since she wrote so many that have moved me. Copyright me, et cetera, et cetera.

"I Go Back to October 2008"

You looked nothing like the headshot I knew
The angles of your face sharply pronounced and enunciated;
A brunette at most in grey scale.
Perhaps it's the you at what you feel is your best - or more likely,
The first picture stumbled upon and distributed.

“She must be older by now,” I thought aloud to my
reluctant escort. “Her parents were married in 1937.”
What an odd detail to know of a complete stranger.

Even with a picture in the back of my mind,
I did not expect the you at the podium.
Feelings don't have faces.
These words, although fleshed in my own
creative fancy, now had a voice, a shell, a host.

You are still in grey scale,
But have none of your former sharpness.
Your cheekbones soft, complacent where once
They were gaunt with your long kept silence.

The release has seen you well.



{And if you aren't down with the abbreviations, it's "Single White Female Looking for Best Friend Forever". This has been a public service announcement.}
For some time I have felt a particular void in my life. It is that of a best friend. I've only ever really had one in my semi-adult to adult life, and that would be Brandi, my love from high school. Being apart is a definite strain; I wouldn't say she isn't my best friend anymore, but she is my best friend from a different time, and really, a different me. I had a sister, (see "Impermanence") but she is long gone, it would seem.

(As a side note related to this theme, Bethany Facebook "friend-ed" me last week, of all things. If you go back to "Impermanence", she is someone I thought I never would hear from again. It's a little hokey and impersonal, Facebook, that is, but I'll take it. I obviously from my writing adore(d) this woman and will take what I can get.)

BUT. In a long winded-y fashion . . .

I have long felt a void. A void that I so wish would be filled with a best friend. That one gal you can call at all hours of the night (and vice versa), that will drop everything to hang (and vv), that you can relate to to a "T". I haven't had that since . . . 2004. And . . . it shows. I'm a crotchety hermit who feasts on the little social interaction I do have, and now that my schedule is changing I won't even see the few people I treasure as often as I would like. SO. Here goes my personal ad:


24 yr old curly haired 5'4'' average if not
squishy W LF BFF 2 hang w/ & heart
unconditionally. Been burnt in past but still
hopeful 4 future. Loves jokes
& unforgetable mayhem. Please contact
poster soon before hermitude sets in. Serious apps

only. Don't go breakin my heart.

{And here I am, being awkward even in a two-minute sketch. I can't even hug my legs properly because I realized I couldn't after I had already drawn my pantaloons. Flailing arms, ho!}


Look at him in his basket! I get excited whenever he uses it; it's a nice place for him to lounge when Ed and I are hogging/"using" the bed. Squeee! (Lighting's a little off cause it's beddy time, but lookit'im! Sappy moment: I was just telling him as he snuggled up to me how much I love and appreciate him being in my life. I nearly got teary-eyed. He really is such a goddarn joy.


"The Courtship of Stewie's Father."

It'S a TiNy, TiNy WoRlD, iT's A tInY, tInY wOrLd, It'S a TiNy, TiNy WoRlD, iT's A tInY, tInY wOrLd!


Waitin' for the Fam to Arrive.

(Survey courtesy of Wench.)

1) What is the middle name of the first person you ever slept with? He has two, Stanley Osborn. And, how quaint, he's still my love.

2) What is the song you want played at your funeral? Nothing immediately comes to mind.

3) What would you last meal be before being executed? Well, I'm missing out on Carrabas today. And let me tell you, that kalimari is to DIE for.

4) The person whose problems you never want to hear again? Eh, I'm pretty good at tuning out that kind of dribble. I don't tend to talk to people who would annoy me in that way.

5) What is the most important thing (physical) in the opposite sex? Gonna agree with Wench. Hair is terribly sesy.

6) Favourite hangover cure? Um . . . I've maybe never had a hangover. I just recently got myself crunk. But not so crunk as to have a hangover. Don't judge.

7) How many drinks does it take to get you drunk? Depends what I'm drinking.

8) Hair colour you like a person you're dating to have? Colour's not necessarily the most important; I like the fellow curly friends.

9) Siblings that should go to rehab? Well considering Rob's 19 and Tyler's 13, neither have really lived enough to need it for any reason. More on that as they grow. I'm the only one who needs rehab in this fam. Fabulous.

10) Favourite month? May. Birthday month and it always tends to be just the right temperature.

11) First movie you can remember seeing as a kid? Follow That Bird. And I MAY or MAY NOT still own it. (^_^)'

12) When's the last time you went on a date? Uh oh. I can't remember. Must prod boyfriend sitting next to me.

13) Who is the person of the same sex you'd be with? LOL . . . I was thinking outloud and my boyfriend immediately said “Sean Connery. But only for his money. Actually, he reminds me of my dad.”

14) Where do you want to live when you're old and brittle? I really loved England . . .

15) What's a word you would use to describe your life? Ocean.

16) If you became a multi-millionaire overnight, what is the first thing you would buy? I wouldn't “buy”, per se. I would pay off my student loans. So lame, right?

17) Imagine your first child is a girl, what would you name her? Eva Hélène.

18) Boy? Never cared as much about predetermining a male name.

19) What's the strangest talent you have? Strangest? Not that strange, but I have finger toes and can pretty much function with them. But that doesn't mean you can amputate.

20) Have you ever had two dates in the same night? No. lol. So boring the life I lead.

21) What was your childhood nickname? I didn't really have one as a young child. But Rob called me “Dee Dee” when he was just learning to talk.

22) Name someone with the same birthday as you. I didn't know offhand, so I'll list the celebrity ones I found that I liked: Katharine Hepburn, Yogi Berra, George Carlin, Tony Hawk.

23) What is in the backseat of your car right now? OMG a shit-ton of shit. The Pimpmobile needs a serious clean.

24) Your favourite curse word? It's not really a curse, but seeing as I just re-affirmed my love for V for Vendetta, we'll go with “bollocks”.

25) What were you doing at 8 am this morning? Having my side of the bed monopolized by a certain TOBIAS! He somehow manages to take away my own pillow.

26) What is your birthstone? Emerald.

27) Do you go in at a fast food place, or hit the drive thru? Drive-thru.

28) What do you have hanging from your rearview mirror? My college graduation tassel.

29) Biggest annoyance in your life right now? Work. I've begun tuning it out, however, with an MP3 player. Works wonders for drowning out negativity.

30) What turns you off the most? Bad breath, gnarly teef and stank sack.

31) What turns you on the most? Kissing.

32) If a doctor told you TODAY you were pregnant, what would you do? I'd feel really guilty for not wanting to keep it yet.

33) Do you think you were raised well? No. But it'll do.

34.) YOUR ROCK STAR NAME: (first pet & current car) Ta-she Taurus. Hey that's not bad!

35.YOUR GANGSTA NAME: (favourite ice cream flavor, favorite cookie) Mint Chocolate Chip Thin Mint. Uh huh . . .

36. NASCAR NAME: (the first names of your grandfathers) Roland Clarence. Could they HAVE more grampy names?

37. STRIPPER NAME: (the name of your favourite perfume/cologne, favorite candy) Dream Mr. Goodbar. That totally worked. If I was a gay guy stripper.

38.WITNESS PROTECTION NAME: (mother's & father's middle names ) Lee Marcus.

39. TV WEATHER ANCHOR NAME: (Your 5th grade teacher’s last name, a major city that starts with the same letter) Palochak Paris. How 'bout we invert that.

40. SPY NAME: (your favorite season/holiday, flower) Spring Rose.

41. HIPPY NAME: (What you ate for breakfast, your favourite tree) Nothing Yet Willow.

42. YOUR ROCKSTAR TOUR NAME: (”The” + Your favourite hobby/craft, favourite weather element + “Tour") The Decoupage Ice Storm Tour.



For in truth, it's the beginning of an end
And nothing has changed . . .
Everything has changed . . .


And Now for Something Completely Different . . .

Stolen from Rae. Need a change of pace.

1. YOUR SPY NAME: (middle name and current street name) Marie Colonial Crest

2. YOUR MOVIE STAR NAME: (grandfather/grandmother on your dad's side, your favorite candy) Marion Andes

3. YOUR RAP NAME: (first initial of first name, first three or four letters of your last name) D. Sha, muthafucka. In the hizzie.

4. YOUR GAMER TAG: (a favorite color, a favorite animal) Blue Lemur

5. YOUR SOAP OPERA NAME: (middle name, city where you were born) Marie Pottstown

6. YOUR STAR WARS NAME: (first 3 letters of your last name, last 3 letters of mother's maiden name, first 3 letters of your pet's name) Sha Naw Tob

7. JEDI NAME: (middle name spelled backwards, your mom's maiden name spelled backwards) Eiram Wanhsad

8. PORN STAR NAME: (first pet's name, the street you grew up on) Ta-she Bethel. I've always been fond of this one.

9. SUPERHERO NAME: ("The", your favorite color, the automobile your mom drives) The Blue Kia

10. YOUR ACTION HERO NAME: (first name of a main character in the last movie you watched, last food you ate) Alice Ice Cream


"Bye Grammie."

On Sunday night Ed was restless and unable to fall asleep. He's been worried about his grandparents who are slowly wasting away. It's sad, really. His gran is lost and doesn't have a grasp anymore, and his pop has to watch her fade. All the while they're being caretaken by a reluctant and weary daughter.

As I was listening I thought of my own Grammie, out of the blue. My mind hadn't landed on her for some time. For years she had been sequestered by an unstable daughter, and was in and out of a nursing home when she wasn't well enough to be kept. But for some reason my thoughts landed on her. “I should really go see Grammie . . .” I trailed.

You really should, said mom on Monday. She was dying.


Grammie, for me, is the embodiment of acceptance and unconditional love. The more I went through the motions of these past few days, the more I realized I was completely accepted by the Shantz family, no questions asked. Cousins embraced, Grammie embraced . . . I fit seemlessly into a world that, although I hadn't been born into, I had been brought into. And I loved it. I loved the farm, the animals, and even the somewhat kept house of the woman who I now regret to say has passed.

Grammie and Grampie always watched Oprah in the kitchen in the evening. Newspapers were strewn on the couch under the window. There was always the smell of home cooking emanating from that kitchen. I remember the kitchen table, too: it had a faux-marble-esque finish on top, but upraised so that if you wanted to write something, you had better put a book or pad underneath it. I can almost feel the texture of it if I concentrate. Grampie's chair was between the door and the cupboard, and he would never have to fight me for it in his shit clothes. I swear almost every time I entered I was greeted with a “Ho ho ho, look what the wind blew in,” or some other boisterous saying. He had a guffaw for a laugh and a questionable temperament, but he was a permanent fixture in that chair, or snoring in the living room, or yelling “Marion!” for some reason or another. Grampie used to mix all the food on his plate together, and when I cringed and asked him why, he would tell me it's all going to the same place.
My absolute favourite meal was the pancakes in the morning after a sleepover with the girls. At the time I had no idea what she did to those pancakes, but they were heaven on a platter. It wasn't so mysterious once I figured out it was olive oil that made them so divine, but at the time I was mystified. I couldn't understand how there was so much difference between Aunt Jemima and Bisquik. I've fondly imitated her method ever since.


My mind's eye can walk through every room of that house, and with the mind and eye of an adult, it is a magnificent house . . . everything an old farmhouse should be. Beyond the kitchen is the pantry/laundry room. The pantry was stocked full of Little Debbie zebra cakes, or peanut butter wafers, or best yet, those oatmeal cookies or brownies – once I knew where the stash was, there was no going back. After school I would grab one of those puppies and plop in front of PBS for some Sesame Street (which I proudly watched until way too old – and counting!) or Carmen Sandiego. She had this antiquated wash basin in there as well, that had the old-fashioned drying rollers and everything. In the back there was the spiral staircase (dangerously heaping with piles of nonsense) to Gram's sewing room (also heaping).

From the side of the wash room was the bathroom, and above that the “dining room” with the wood stove. The floor always had bits of splinters and wood on it; I remember being careful when I was barefoot. It was an unused room, mostly, but it served our sledding clothes well when we needed to dry them. From that room and the kitchen was the hallway, complete with a rotary phone. But the living room was where most of the activity I remember took place.

The living room was the center of so many memories: sick days off of school, with Three's Company for company, along with All in the Family and the rest of the daytime line up. When my throat was sore, Grammie would mash up ice for me to chew and suck on. Sometimes she would make me hot chocolate, but I don't think I ever made it through a glass after I realized it was made with fresh cow milk. Oh yes. We're talking straight from the utter, into the fridge. I didn't have to try that twice. And I'd know if it was made with that because of the gross film that would form at the top of my drink. Blegh. I remember cinnamon toast, that was also a favourite. There was a black clock on the mantle, which never had the right time; the bust of the deer on the wall, which now dons at the new house. I remember their Christmas tree, complete with tacky bulbs and ornaments, and the big-bodied lights you can't find anymore. I think that was my favourite part. I remember all the cousins and aunts and uncles gathering for the gifts of money in a card and slippers, or tacky clothes. I would wear them in a heartbeat today.


In the last few hours of the formalities and visits of yesterday I remembered that old piano in the living room. Off-key, worse than my own, but a wonderful piece nonetheless. And I wonder, if it isn't ruined, if it could be restored. I remember practicing down at the farm, whatever assignments I had for my next lesson. I really hope it's a salvageable. If not for me, which is entirely presumptuous, for someone to enjoy. A piano is a beautiful thing to waste.


From the living room you could go upstairs; there was a banister that somehow became more wobbly as time went on. I would never admit to mischief on those stairs, be it sliding down the banister or “sledding” down the steps. Dad's room was on the right, messy, full of memorabilia. Through his room was the upstairs bathroom, and then the sewing room. To the left was the platform to the attic, then Dawn and Suzanne's room, and then the master bedroom. If you could make it up the stairs to the attic, oh the treasures you could find.

But the farm was much more than the house. It was everything that happened there. The embodiment of my childhood. Countless sleepovers with the cousins, Grammie yelling down for us to go to sleep. Games, giggles; even Robbie joined in once he was old enough. Every day after school I was greeted by the sights and sounds that only a farm could provide. The sound of the milker, the calling of the cows from pasture to barn, the cats, rubbing legs or skittering away. I spent endless days exploring the barn, making up games as children do. There were bodies-high bales of hay in the top; itchy and climbable. There were the holes in the floor where the bales were tossed down to the main floor. I think I may have been brave enough to make the jump down once or twice. There was the basketball net, where we played Around The World . . . if we could find an inflated basketball.

Grammie had a bunch of bikes in the garage, which we could all ride about on. The hills around the garage made the perfect track for us to race . . .

It's so hard to focus; to try to pull everything from my mind and make an attempt to tribute them in words. The farm was my childhood. It was everything. And I think that's what makes her death so monumental and heart wrenching. Not only am I mourning the loss of a person, but also that of an era: the loss of my childhood.


Monday afternoon I drove out with Dad and Tyler to see Grammie, lying in her bed on hospice. She still looked so good, and was more responsive than I thought. She reacted so warmly to Holly, Tammy, and Tracy before the medication drew her back to sleep. I rubbed her arm and held her hand, but it couldn't erase the guilt I felt in not seeing her for years. There were so many reasons I had to avoid seeing her, but none of them felt consequential anymore. Not while I was sitting there, holding her hand. Dad told her who I was, and about the endless sleepovers of my youth – just hearing him say it touched me deeply. He had to know how much those nights meant to recall them. I think she may have knew who I was.

After the girls left, Dad asked me if I wanted to hold her hand. As soon as I did, I just burst. Not a full-out cry, I didn't want to disturb her or have Dad or Tyler hear, but just tears streaming, blurring my vision. But I guess I knew it would be the last time I saw her alive. At one point while she was sleeping she coughed a bit and said something to the affect of, “Are the screens down?”, in reference to a storm coming, I suppose. I found it amusing. She was always so functional, but deep and caring as well. She knew what I was going through in high school, and was there for me in her own way.

As we were leaving I rubbed her arm one last time, and kissed her head. I said softly, “Bye Grammie.”

She died on Wednesday afternoon.

I think not knowing when the services would be was the worst part. What's happening? What's going on? These were all pressing questions in my mind, and no one had the answers because of the family strife. I went home a few hours early on Thursday. I just reached my limit of not crying and breaking down. I took off Friday and Saturday at Bernie and Ed's recommendation.
Sunday was the viewing. And I guess I would rather the closure of seeing her there, peaceful, gone, but it always . . . creeps me. They don't look right, they're propped up and filled up with whatever nonsense preserves them for us. It hardly matters to her, but I'd rather her be intact in her smelly, decaying glory. I'd rather see what she really is than what we perceive her to be.

I was overwhelmed with the amount of people who were there, but happy to see the ones I was once so close to. Aunt Shirley made the most touching gesture of all: she had gotten matches cross necklaces for all of us girls. I found beauty and calm in her thoughtfulness. I'm still wearing it now, and it is wonderful that I'm able to keep both them and Grammie close to me in this way.

But it took too long, and I was too uncomfortable, and when standing in her presence, I fell. I broke. It's just so hard to stand there and be face to face with her finality. Even after the service when final respects were given, I just cried. Who knows what to say when you're permanently in between religious philosophies, anyway? Hope you're in heaven, if it exists? Here's an empty prayer I know? I might not see you if that asshole pastor is right? I said what I knew how.

I said “Bye Grammie.”


Suspicious Foster?

This is our latest foster cat, "Crystal". Looks like she could use some TLC. Won't you please take her home? ( . . . To Paradise City? I hear the grass is green, etc. etc.)


"Frozen Innocence"

{by Darknessgazer, Deviant}

Ever just want to go back to simpler times? Times . . . without such bearing? I want to go back to 50 lbs. ago, when I thought I was fat. Or 10 lbs. before that before I was diagnosed. That would be even better. Fall of 10th grade. A Christmas Carol. Barely memorable. I know I played the piano in it instead of a role. I never really played a role for her. For anyone but myself.

I don't know what role I'm supposed to play now. I don't have a stage, I don't have an obvious timeframe or goal anymore. I've made it past those, more or less intact.

There's no solace in tonight. I could weep more, I could sedate, I could sleep. Many "I could"'s and few "I will"'s.



So this entry is a long time coming . . . provoked by both a lovely wench and David Carradine in some awesome "Kung Fu."

I've never really mourned and accepted the impermanence that goes along with friendships. A younger, less jaded Danielle would say her love is unconditional and e'erlasting, and blindly allowed herself to think that the receiving party felt the same. Life is just not so.

Let's revisit our "Four Noble Truths" before we continue {courtesy of www.thebigview.com}:

1. Life means suffering. To live means to suffer, because the human nature is not perfect and neither is the world we live in. During our lifetime, we inevitably have to endure physical suffering such as pain, sickness, injury, tiredness, old age, and eventually death; and we have to endure psychological suffering like sadness, fear, frustration, disappointment, and depression . . . Life in its totality is imperfect and incomplete, because our world is subject to impermanence. This means we are never able to keep permanently what we strive for, and just as happy moments pass by, we ourselves and our loved ones will pass away one day, too.

2. The origin of suffering is attachment. The origin of suffering is attachment to transient things and the ignorance thereof. Transient things do not only include the physical objects around us, but also ideas . . . Ignorance is a lack of understanding of how our mind is attached to impermanent things. The reasons for suffering are desire, passion, ardour, pursuit of wealth and prestige, striving for fame and popularity, or in short, craving and clinging. Because the objects of our attachment are transient, their loss is inevitable, thus suffering will necessarily follow. Objects of attachment also include the idea of a "self" which is a delusion, because there is no abiding self. What we call "self" is just an imagined entity, and we are merely part of the ceaseless becoming of the universe.

3. The cessation of suffering is attainable. The cessation of suffering can be attained through nirodha. Nirodha means the unmaking of sensual craving and conceptual attachment. The third noble truth expresses the idea that suffering can be ended by attaining dispassion. Nirodha extinguishes all forms of clinging and attachment. This means that suffering can be overcome through human activity, simply by removing the cause of suffering. Attaining and perfecting dispassion is a process of many levels that ultimately results in the state of Nirvana.

4. The path to the cessation of suffering. There is a path to the end of suffering - a gradual self-improvement . . . the Eightfold Path. Craving, ignorance, delusions, and its effects will disappear gradually, as progress is made on the path.

All theses concepts reinforced, I have 3 B's. A Liz, a Bethany, and and Brasch. Let's do Auntie Bethany and Uncle Brasch first, since they go rather hand in hand.

Brasch was my HS senior choir director, and a seriously awesome soul. One of her good friends, Bethany, also became a good friend of mine. Brasch was never good at keeping in touch, so I don't really feel much pain for her . . . she was never a constant. It was however when I began hearing more from her and less from Bethany that I pondered. I have no idea why Bethany stopped talking to me. I live about an hour from her, and Brasch has since moved away, but to hear nothing? I just started getting "forward" type emails rather than anything of substance. This was probably in 2005. The last I really saw Bethany was in 2004 during my break from college for treatment. She was so integral to my recovery at that time. I love both of them so much. I still do. I've since stopped trying to call Bethany; she can screen and for whatever reason, it seems she's cut all ties. I don't know why . . . and I suppose I never will. It just hurts so much to love and respect someone to have them not even give you a word, one way or another. If I had any sort of resolution or reason, I doubt my emptiness would be nearly as consuming. Once upon I time I wanted Brasch to create my wedding dress; she's a talented seamstress as well, and to my knowledge that's now her full-time career path. I know her website . . . and wonder if it is still maintained. When it comes to be that time of my life, I suppose I shall cry again for what is passed.

There's no stopping the tears now either. Let them fall.

{"Alone" by Ronnie_77 at DeviantArt.}

I'm not sure which is harder to accept: silence or a discarded SASE. Which brings me to Liz, abridged. These are all terribly abridged. Why belabor in retelling the past, I guess. If I go over every wonderful detail it only makes this release more difficult. I met Liz my freshman year of college, and we soon became inseparable. We set out to room together our sophomore year, and did, until I took my medical leave. I visited a few times, even reunited with Ed during one visit . . . but when I returned the next year, there wasn't really any room for me in her life anymore. She had already made a new nitch for herself. It makes me sad to think I brought her out of her shell only to have her leave me behind. Mind, I am in no way innocent; I can be extremely introverted and unmotivated to maintain friendships. I certainly take my share of the fault. But I just . . . felt that although she was around and still friendly, there was nothing there. No hanging. No shenanigans. And then she graduated and I was still a year behind.

I saw her a year later at my own graduation - we talked and it was . . . ::sigh:: I thought it was ressurectable. She lives in a stressful, poverty-stricken home environment, so modern contact wasn't really a good option. I wrote her a letter and it felt so good to joke and write and expect a fun note back . . . but it never came. Never. Not even with the aforementioned SASE enclosed. And that was a year ago recently. I've heard nothing since. I saw her surface on AIM last week, which was shocking, but what is there, really? I didn't message. What would there be to say? After weeks of expecting a letter back, I realized . . . she just wasn't my sister anymore. I always wanted one, and was so fortunate to find one outside the ties of brethren.

I will likely never call someone sister again.


I'm going to close this for now . . . it's going to have to be entry 1 of 2. This flows into the broader topic of burnt bridges and my perceptions of past experiences. It's too much for one sitting.


Why Don't They Pay Taxes Again?

{"Two Worlds" by artsaavy. http://www.deviantart.com/}

So . . . Crystal and I were just shopping at Walmart, and as we were leaving we saw 3 Amish women and 2 Amish men . . . all of whom were toting merchandise, including Mountain Dew and Oreos. They then piled into a minivan.

I am sorely confused.



So I'm bored tonight and baited my love Crystal with a picture of Tobias and text pretending to be him talking. Hilarity ensued:

"Hi, is Gilbert there?"

"Yes, I'm in bed with Mummy!"

"Oh looks comfy. Got any canned cat food? I just ate the last of mine. The panic's setting in."

"Let me look in the box . . . no I'm sorry, we're out. I have to ask my grandma to get more!"

"Does that crazy T think I'm gonna share my fats with him? Oh HELL NO."
You see what I did thar? (^_^)



Hi. My name is Tobias. Many of you know me, but some of you may not. I was brought into The Shelter in January with a few other friends. I was living in someone's garage. When I got there, I was so scared. All of the kind workers liked me though, they loved my unique face and big eyes. Even though my mom sees many cats each day, she took note of me because I was so handsome. I made her kind of sad, though, because she didn't think I would adjust to shelter life.

But the next day, I was out on the adoption floor! She was so happy to see me, even though I wasn't very happy to see her. I was still so scared and frightened. It took me a long time to become comfortable with my new circumstances.

It didn't take long before the shelter staff realized I had some medical issues. They consulted the vet and took x-rays of me, but no one really knew what was wrong. We're still not sure. But that didn't matter to my mom. She loved my adorable face, and the funny way I walked. She knew she wanted to take me home.

I was very patient waiting for her. Every day she saw me she would say hello and pick me up and cuddle me, even set me up in a visiting room so I had more space to stretch. A few times she even took me outside on a harness so I could take a break from my monotony. But I wasn't happy. Every day I was there was hard. I saw all the other cats and it made me very angry to still be without a home. Mom was waiting until she moved and she could have pets, but because I was so stressed I started getting angry at the shelter workers who all cared for me.

Sometimes it just happens. You are at a shelter so long that you become angry and unreachable. Mom knew she had to do something; that I couldn't wait another month for her to move into her new house. She pleaded with my dad (he's okay . . . I'm still not sure about sharing mom) to let me live with him until they were living together in their new place. He said yes. It would cost mom a lot of money to move me in just for a month, but I think she somehow knew that I couldn't wait any longer.

I tried to be patient. And I think mom knows I did my best. But I'm so lucky she loved me enough to rearrange everything to take me in sooner.

I am so happy now. It's like I'm a different feline. I like nothing better to cuddle and play . . . I would never recognize myself in those other pictures.

I love you mom. Thank you.


Mah Townhouse!

It's the door to the left of the tree. I'm so excited! It's terribly cookie cutter, but what can you do. The amenities at this particular complex are hard to beat. Ohhhh I get so pumped just thinking about it! (And then I get mad because I'm acting so girly. :-P)

There's just something about moving and rearranging all your things that gets me excited. And I also can't wait to make a home for Tobi, if he still needs one (please let him still need one!). Gosh I love that boy.

It's just going to be so sad to leave my old building with the high ceiling and the angled bedroom . . . character is so hard to come by. And once you have it, the landlord fucks you in the butt and doesn't let you have pets (no offense, FiFi). It's just been such a long time coming, and I'm so excited to make a new home together.


Sleep Interrupted

I hate it when my sleep pattern becomes erratic. Something happens to throw me off . . . I get too much, I wake up from dreams, something . . . then it becomes a pattern and I wake up in the middle of the night and have to preoccupy myself for an hour or two before I'm restive again.

And of course there's always the paranoia that if it becomes too habitual that I'll throw myself off.

And I have to be up for work in an hour and a half. ::sniffle::


From an artful wench . . .

Something to pass the time. Preoccupy me.

1) What’s your body type? Average.
2) Thin or full lips? ::looks:: Thin, I guess?
3) Thin hair, thick hair, or somewhere in between? Thick.
4) If you were born a member of the opposite sex, what would your name be? Oh lord, I have no idea. I only ever care about female names. Um . . . well, let's just go with the obvious Daniel.
5) What heritage does your first name imply? "Danielle" is the French feminine form of "Daniel", which comes from the Hebrew name Daniyyel meaning "God is my judge."
6) Were you named after anyone? Not to my knowledge. I think Mom just liked it.


7) Favourite candy bar?
Mr. Goodbar.
8) Favourite Disney princess? Belle. Although she isn't really a princess until the end.
9) Disney prince? The Beast.
10) Disney villain? Um . . . Jafar? Mebbe? No no DARLA! lol.
11) Character in a play? Well, Into the Woods is probably my favourite show, and The Witch is my favourite character there.
12) Serial Killer? Um . . .
13) Medieval torture device? Chastity belt. Bazzzzing!
14) Scent? My favourites always get discontinued! Flowering Herb from Bath and Body Works, Grapefruit Ginger from that Mark Avon line, and the one constant has been Gap Dream. Love that.


15) Shy or outgoing?
16) Respectful or perverted? Little bit o' this, little bit o' that.
17) Cup size or condom size? Average is fine. I'm not lookin' for fireworks. But I would giggle at less than enough. Hehehe.
18) Artistic or athletic? Artistic.
19) Your ideal date? Mmm . . . Florida was wonderful . . . Hotel on the beach . . . dolphins . . . hot tub . . . but really anything can be a wonderful date. Just curling up on the couch watching Stardust, for example. <3
20) Your ideal wedding? Outdoors and universal and uncomplicated.
21) Would you get married? I intend to.


22) Scrawny African children?
I don't think of them, really. Does that make me a bad person? I like Starvin' Marvin . . .
23) Religion? Working definition? Mental mind fuck.
24) Politics? Unnecessary evil.
25) Abortion? Not my business.
26) Blondes? Zieg Heil! JK, jk.
27) Ignorance? Also an unecessary evil.
28) Your mom? YOUR mom! But really, I'd be dead without my mom. I deeply appreciate and love her, despite being unable to articulate it.
30) Premarital sex? I absolutely believe it needs to occur.
31) Your mental health? Unfair.
32) Falling asleep holding a stuffed animal? Rupert or my sock monkey! ::squeezes them tightly::
33) Your life? Mmm . . . I like it. Generally.
34) Hollywood? Californication.
35) MTV? Used to be cool . . .


36) What are you feeling?
37) Hearing? Ventrilo.
38) Wearing? PJ's. Om t-shirt and Spongebob boxers. Mix-match FTW.
39) Do you look nice? Um, likely not. lol.
40) What brand of shoes are you wearing? I'm barefoot. But Adidas, for the record, is my brand.
41) What are you wishing for? Stability (nonspecific)
42) What are you worried about? Stability (financial)


43) Who are your friends?
Whoever hasn't left.
44) Who do you treat the best? I try to treat everyone well.
45) Who’s the funny one? Hmmm . . . we all have a good sense of humour.
46) The smart one? Well, he's an estranged friend, but Foxy got a 1600 on his SAT's.
47) The depressed one? It used to be Lizz, but she's isn't so much anymore. <3
48) The one you think will kill someone someday? Oh sheesh, I dunno.
49) The hot one? Joe lol.
50) The back-up one? Um . . .
51) The hippie? Well, Crystal isn't a hippie, but she was the closest thing I thought of since she's vegan. (^_^)
52) The druggie? Hell lol.
53) The alcoholic? Dylan.
54) The goth? Alana. Ha.


55) Gone on a cruise?
My Gramma goes on them all the time! (T_T)
56) Beaten someone up? No.
57) Been beaten up? Not physically.
58) Bullied someone? Yes.
59) Attempted murder? No.
60) Broken the law? Um, I've smoked and sped, but I don't really think that counts.
61) Met a famous person? Chuck Wagner!
62) Had an affair? No. Never cheated, never will.
63) Written a poem? Many.
64) A story? Oh fanfic.
65) A book? Nah.
66) Said that you hated the world? Many times, I'm sure.
67) Read a book for enjoyment? Um, is there any other way?
68) Gotten a nose bleed? Can anyone answer no?
69) Had an orgasm? Many.
70) Thought of killing someone? Only in passing.
71) Gone to a beach? Oh tranquility, you are the seaside.
72) Gone fishing? Yes. And I love it. But as an adult who loves all things living, I find it a hard passtime to embrace.
73) Died in a dream? Not conclusively, to my knowledge.
74) Gotten pregnant? No.
75) Eaten Calamari? ::foams at the mouth:: Yesssssssssssss . . . Mmmmmm . . .
76) Lobster? Yes.
77) Helped a stranger? Yes.
78) Kissed a stranger? As good as.
79) Found a lost wallet? No.
80) Felt bad about not returning it? n/a
81) Bitten someone? Mebbe!
82) Been bitten by someone? ::points at neck:: Right here, please.


83) Sacrifice everything for a friend?
Everything? Probably not.
84) Post yourself having sex on the internet? I wouldn't post myself, but I could see myself allowing someone else to.
85) Sell yourself? I'm so poor . . . but I hope the answer is no.
86) Lie to a friend? I hope not.
87) Lie to your parents? Have many times.
88) Steal from your parents? No.
89) Hug them in public? Yes.


90) You took a shower?
A couple days ago, but I've bathed since then.
91) Ate? A few hours ago.
92) Drank? Last night.
93) Drank an alcoholic beverage? New Year's Eve, maybe?
94) Took a pill? Last night.
95) Smoked? Smoked what? (^_^)'
96) Were photographed? Um . . . a few weeks ago holding a kitty cat at the shelter, probably.
97) Had a strong sexual drive? A few weeks ago.


98) Do you chew on your pencils?
99) Do you read the dictionary? No. But remember that guy I said got a 1600? He claimed he did.
100) The encyclopedia? Raaaaaaarely.
101) Do you memorize random facts? No intentionally.
102) Do you stalk anyone? No.
103) Does anyone stalk you? I hope not.
104) Have you ever considered becoming a prostitute? Lesser forms of harlotry, yes. Prostitution, no.
105) Do you use lotion on your feet? Yes.
106) Are you a virgin? Oh my, no.
107) Anything your parents should know about? No.
108) How many hours of sleep do you get every night? Varies.
109) What do you dream about? Varies.
110) Do you have Yahoo Messenger? Only because I have email accounts.
111) Which cardinal direction do you like best? . . .
112) Does karma, if it exists, love you? Hmm . . . I'm tempted to say it does.
113) Do you sleep over or under the covers? Oh yes. I love my pile of blankets.


114) Do you wash your hands frequently?
Yes. Especially at the shelter. Hand sanitizing galore.
115) Do you lie a lot? I don't believe so.
116) Do you forget to brush your teeth frequently? Yes, unfortunately. I don't so much forget as subtly mistreat myself.
117) Brush your hair? No. But I don't brush it as often as say, a regular person. I can only comb it in the shower. Oh, luscious locks.
118) Use deodorant? I hope so.
119) Are you an alcoholic? Far from.
120) Do you wear underwear? When I'm supposed to.
121) Are you a loser? Possibly.
122) Are you a bad friend? Probably.
123) Are you untrustworthy? No.
124) Do you have bad hair? I have excellent hair.
125) A big nose? Relatively, I guess.
126) Are you shallow? I try not to be.
127) Are you impolite? I try not to be.
128) Are you disrespectful? I try not to be.
129) Do you buy your non-conformist clothes at Hot Topic like all your non-conformist friends? I buy the cheapest shit I can find.
130) Do you have acne? No.
131) Do you wear make-up, a push-up bra, or lifts in your shoes? Rarely wear makeup, usually wear underwire, lifts in my shoes? What is that, even?
132) Are you anorexic? Sometimes, I kind of wish I had better self-control . . . not that bad though.
133) Do you have a tattoo on your lower back, right above your waistline? To you mean to inquire if I have a stamp of a tramp? I do not.
135) What’s your IQ? Above average, I expect.
136) Are you a bad guesser? I don't think so.
137) Are you stubborn? Extremely.
138) Do you like to talk about gross, disturbing things? Yes.
139) Is your room messy? Moderately.
140) Do you respect your body? No.