Maybe...

I finally found myself a day job, I hope. Sure, it's sucky - being a survey rep, calling people and asking for their opinions. But it's a lot less scummy than telemarketing. It's also not shouting at people all day long to come see what I do. Luckily that job fell through. So, now, with a steady day job, and steady income, not the random bursts of cash from the theater job (which I love and won't give up without a fight), I think I can finally, guilt free, continue writing. Doing what I have to do until I can live off my writing. Which will happen.

I lost 5.2 pounds from Weight Watchers last week, and this week, if my scale is right, I've lost 3 already. Excited! I know it will take, like, 2 years to loose all the weight I want to lose, but slow and steady wins the race right?

geekSquared gets about 5 hits per day, which may not seem like a lot, but to me it is. It proves that, even if it's only 5 people (and when we post a new blog it's more like 20 views), people want to read what we have to say, so I'm trying to get Adj to agree that it's time to advertise and pimp ourselves out to places we like to visit. I think we can get pretty well known, Internet wise. And that would be cool. Though really, just an an exercise in writing and communication between us, it's already a success - it's a fun thing to do for us, and so, regardless of how many people see it, it's still fun and cool.

Woo-hooo

So, I joined Weight Watchers last week, since I desperately need to loose a lot of weight, and sincerely suck at doing it myself, and I lost 5.2 pounds.

Also, I have an application on my computer to update this blog, so why do I keep signing on to this site to do that?

Seriously Kvelling

I know that I am a geek extraordinaire! But sometimes the full meaning of that isn't accurately depicted.

I want tattoos. I have a design my friend drew for me that I am definitely going to get, and I want to get one from Far Side (that brilliant comic from years ago) of a baby porcupine playing with a balloon. Besides those relatively normal tattoos I want several video game and comic book related ones, such as Evil Purple Tentacle, A Rubber Chicken with a Pulley in the Middle, a smiley face with some blood on it, A Guy Fawke's Mask, and some Amano artwork, probably from The Dream Hunters, or else from his Final Fantasy collection.

Yet, there is another equally sinister side of me that works almost with my geeky side, yet also against it.  It's the side that tells me to not get tattoos because you can't pull them off in any dress that you'd have to wear at a fancy type award ceremony. Yet it also tells me to get a tattoo that completely expresses who I am, so you have the one that your friend made, why not get your friends to design a bunch for you?

This is the side that finds museums fun, Shakespeare enthralling, and the notion of people randomly breaking out into song and well-choreographed dance completely acceptable, and often wonders why that doesn't happen more in real life.

 

It is this side of me that says "Go see the Sweeney Todd movie"

It's also this side of me that smiles and squeals and squees in delight at the notion of Alan Rickman and Johnny Depp in  a duet - and trying to imagine both of them singing "Pretty Women" in harmony, and how that will sound, and gets even more excited because they are both tremendous actors and, like, my favorite.

 

It's my geeky side that says "Dude! Snape and Jack Sparrow are going to sing! Sing! SING! OOOooooohhhhhh I'm a lumber jack and I'm ok...."

Then again my brain often finds itself sidetracked.

A Meandering sort-of pondering

These past two days have been seriously annoying - the internet decided it didn't want to work, and so I spent two days out of my comfort zone. See, I'm obsessive about checking my email. I know that, on any given day, I probably won't get any important emails, but on those rare occasions that I do, I want to be there when it first arrives, so that I don't miss an important opportunity, or the person doesn't think I'm avoiding them. I reply asap.
Being away from the internet also meant I couldn't read any of my comics or catch up on the latest celebrity gossip.
My status being Sans Interwebs is the reason I watched the same episode of Brett Michaels' Rock of Love for a 4th time. That Lacey is a serious bitch, and I hope Heather has her big boobies explode. I'm rooting for Jess and Sam, but it seems like Sam wants to leave and may do so next week, which is a shame because Brett seems like someone who needs a non-partier in his life, to counter-act all the partying he does do.
What can I say? Reality TV is my dirty little secret.
Oh, and if I were in that house, Brett'd totally pick me. I'd win.
Likewise if I were in America's Next Top Model. I'd be the next Cover Girl, and America would love me.
But I don't kid myself - I'd never win Idol. I mean, I don't really watch the show, but I'm pretty sure I wouldn't get past the first part where Simon's the meanest person ever.
I'd also never win Hell's Kitchen - I don't know how to par broil, and freak out when someone's yelling in my face all the time.
Though I like Hell's Kitchen a lot.
I totally knew Rock was going to win - though I was rooting for Bonnie, because she was the underdog, and a girl. I always root for the girl. Then the underdog. If it were down to Bonnie and Julia, I would have rooted for Bonnie, because Julia was such a fan favorite. I like rooting against fan favorites - except in Baseball, where I am a Yankees' fan.
I have hand written 29 pages of my fantasy story... I guess it's "urban fantasy" but I'm not sure - I think what I like about writing today is that fantasy and sci-fi have evolved so much in their own genres, and continually push the boundaries of was can be considered sci-fi and fantasy that calling a piece "fantasy" no longer means "sword and sorcery" - it can be anything out of the norm that takes a character on an adventure in a place that is not this world. While sci-fi no longer just means "distant future" or "space" it encompasses alternate realities of this world, as long as science has some major function in it. I like that. I like it when things evolve, not only in my mind, but in the minds of the people in charge - since I'll never be a "person in charge" (because I don't want to be) it's good to have them on the same page as I am.

My favoritest band ever (ok - they're not my most favorite band, but I really do love them, and are definitely up there) the Fireflies have won Emergenza - a worldwide Battle of the Bands. They WON it. This small group from SUNY Purchase (where I also attended, and also discovered them like 4 years ago) is, at this moment, the best new band in the world.
That's just awesome.

Good Days

I started my job at the theater on Thursday Night. Uneventful as it was, I can't help but say to myself "I love my job" even if the only thing I'll ever do there is usher. I can't explain it, but I guess in everythingyou do there's an intangible thing that makes you happy or miserable. It's not even the people that work there, neccessarily. Sure, I love the people that work at the theater (so far). They've all been friendly and get my sarcasm. And when I tell them that the revival of Sweeney Todd sucked horribly, they agree... of course I can't tell them "I think the Final Fantasy series has gone seriously downhill since Final Fantasy VII, though 6... or 3... whatever... was probably their best made game" - but I know the life I lead, I have a few really close friends that will understand one point, and listen - with interest, adding their own opinions if they can - to the other, but what I do, and the larger groups of people will either be one or the other.

Back to the intangibles...

...See, it's not just people. At Toys R Us I absolutely abhorred the job, which is basically the same as ushering - you deal with the public, asking them what they need, helping them whenever they want. The people there were great though - if I could work with a majority of those people again, in a different place, I totally would. They were probably one of the best group of people I've ever been around.

But there was something beyond the great co-workers and relatively easy job that made me miserable to be there.

Last night I had the opportunity to bartend a party at the theater - a private affair on the top floor. There were about 50 people there, and 3 of us working. Carrieann, Greg, and myself. And, magically, we all got along. There's just something in the air when you fall into the right place with the right people.
..

So, why am I wearing a red hoodie when it is obviosuly not hoodie weather?
Good question.

Friday I went to see Shakespeare in the Park.
It was worth all the misery the rainy day brang... like my once white pants now have a hideous water stain on them.
And it didn't warm up. It was August and I wanted my winter coat.
So, I bought myself a 40 dollar hoodie at the Delacourte, and it says Shakespeare in the Park, and it's a million times better than the blue Neet Sheet I wrapped around myself to stay warm.

A Dream Retrospective

I do think dreams are important. I think they all have a purpose and meaning. Not just simple analytical meanings - but meanings that go beyond what we know.
Dream interpretation is interesting in the way that all types of symbology (symbology should be a word if it isn't already) is interesting.
Loosing teeth - a dream one of my friends often has - apparently means a fear of being financially insecure. Though, through a psychological perspective, we can say that loosing teeth in a dream is a manifestation of hoe frustrated we feel at not being able to communicate something properly.
Strange as it may seem, for the past 3 or so years, Jesus and God have somehow managed to wheedle their way into my dreams on occasion... in as far as dream continuity goes for me, that's pretty serious.
My dreams - the ones I remember least ways - are always kind of remarkable and noteworthy. I'll write them down and say to myself "Hey, what a great thing to make a story out of". Sometimes the ream is, itself, a full story with a beginning middle and end. Though none of these featured any of the same people, and only a few of the same places (a high cliff, and a beach, surrounded by sheer cliff sides with only a way in that, if a person is stranded their at high tide, is deadly).
So, when I have a dream where some element other than location has repeated itself, I have to take notice of that dream over the one where I'm a rebel breaking into a castle to save the captive prince, only to be stabbed by a guard and barely live to tell about it.
For the past 3 years that element has been God... or Jesus.
It first started with a simple dream, where I had to protect Jesus from hell-spawn demons. He turned himself into a rabbit and, rabbit-like instincts taking over, ran away from me. I had to catch him.
3 dreams last year in rapid success included me walking with Jesus with some of the Apostles and one of them strays behind while we go to cross a bridge. The bridge is like this gateway between this really cold Siberia-esque snowy place and this golden field of like, eternal spring (or something... it was very... Elysian-y.) . Jesus goes back to the slow apostle and says "No one gets left back" or something very Jesus-like.
In another there was something about a cross.
One featured me trying to kill the false Christ.
And another featured Jesus, riding into town on his donkey, with all of the citizens (myself included) waving palm fronds like it was "Hosannah Heysannah" from Jesus Christ Super Star... except we were singing "What's the word, tell me what's a-happening"
My latest dream didn't feature either God or Jesus in a direct sense, but rather an indirect one.
It was the end of the world, and only I was saved, and I had to recreate creation.
So, I was God.
What was neat about this dream was that I went through all the things that needed to be created, but then I got to humans, and didn't know if I should make them or not - because I knew what would happen if I did. On the other hand I was really very lonely and wanted my friends with me.
---
I've thought of different ways to interpret those dreams, all having to do with my religious views and what I believe, but I wonder what else they can mean you know?
--
On the other hand, type in "A Neil-Gaiman looking Death chops off my hand" when looking for interpretations, and I get nothing. How is that even remotely fair?! In this world there are people who have regular "teeth-falling-out-of-my-mouth" dreams, and "I'm-falling" dreams, and "I'm-naked-in-school" dreams, and "I'm-taking-a-test-for-a-class-I-didn't-go-to-all-semester" dreams. I've had them too, I'm sure. These are the dreams that have websites devoted to them.
Dreams like "My-house-is-full-of-troll-dolls" and "I-talked-with-Death-who-was-actually-very-nice-and-looked-an-awful-lot-
like-Neil-Gaiman-and-he-chopped-my-hand-off" dreams, and "I-was-riding-a-dinosaur-into-Macy*s" dreams, and the "I-was-a-woman-who-lost-my-family-but-my-evil-sister-who-worships-an-
evil-sea-god-stole-my-family-and-is-teaching-them-to-serve-the-god-and-
is-making-them-live-under-sea-in-a-sunken-ship-under-a-spell-and-I-have-
to-destroy-the-god"dreams, and "Nazi-Penguin" dreams seemed to be, at best, glossed over. "You have to break down the individual elements" they'll say.
Which is utter bull-hockey, because I'm sure everyone else's mundane "I-Keep-waking-up-in-my-dream-only-to-find-myself-in-another-dream" has much more context than just "waking up", yet people feel confidant enough to interpret just the one aspect of waking up.
It's not fair I tell you.

Bleck

Spent the past couple of days sleeping because I haven't felt so good - I blame August 3rd - I ate unfamiliar sushi.
However, it was a really fun day - went to the Tibetan Buddhist Museum (which is amazing that it's on Staten Island) with Adj and Jev, had sushi (where I wanted to try something new. Dumb move), and then, after coming home around 6, later went out, down the block, at 8, to Milos' house with Jev, Natalie, Adj, and James. We played Apples to Apples and Pictionary, while listening to drunken high school students outside shout obscenities at each other.
Much fun was had.
It makes me glad to have the friends I do - we drank coffee and ate popcorn and played Pictionary and had a fantastic time without the aid of drugs or alcohol. Not that we've ever needed drugs or alcohol to get along, but there have been groups of friends in the past that, truth be told, it was boon.


In my attempt to lose weight, I've gained 5 pounds. Way to go me. *lesigh* I want to blame people, but I can only blame myself for this. I was doing really well until my father became unemployed and was home everyday - so I couldn't do the exercises I was doing daily because I'd be downstairs and would move the furniture around so there was space. I don't like going outside to exercise, because I'm insanely insecure and don't want people watching me jog or use complicated exercise machines. I prefer the sanctity that is my house, where people can't see me dance around like an ass.

My room, being on the second floor, is not a good option for exercises which involve you jumping up and down and, generally, making a raucous.

Though I did a fairly good job of maintaining my weight these past 4 months, I think that with the engagement party, wedding, and bridal shower all together in a short span of time (less than a month), whatever maintaining I was doing got shot to hell.

Still pouring

Good things continue.
On a high happy skipping-down-the-block-and-walking-in-beat-to-the-music-you're-listening-to note, that very awesome opportunity has come through.
On another cool note, a book thing I had tried to be apart of, and did a few callings and meetings about last month, which I assumed didn't happen because it has been a little over a month since I last heard from them (people looking to put together a book, and me wanting to be one of the contributing authors, so I figured they chose to skip me), seems to maybe have happened, as there is now an email in my inbox from them asking me for some things they need. I mean, in theory, they wouldn't be asking me for them if they chose not to use me. In theory.
And on a very good, very high-yet-somber note, the bridge collapse in Minnesota was a horrible, terrible, tragic thing that happened. My father right now is sitting downstairs watching any and all news about it - not that there's been any "news" about it for about 4 hours now (which is what is so infuriating about news and why I choose to not watch anything that says "breaking news" because the "Breaking news" goes on for hours after all the information possible at the moment is collected and has been reported. It's true about this bridge collapse. It was true when the steam pip exploded in the city. It was true on 9-11. It's tedious and makes me so angry and frustrated).
The good news is that my brother, who was making his move to Seattle during these past two days, was not on it, like he would have been if he had driven, as was his original intention.
Due to something about credit cards (or whatever) he couldn't get a car to drive from Muskegon, Michigan to Seattle, Washington. So he flew. If he had driven, he would have been on the bridge around the same time as the collapse.
It's things like that which make you stop and think that everything does happen for a reason, and maybe there is something, someone, out there looking out for you and yours.
Maybe it's luck, but I'd hate the idea of my family and friend's futures being decided by something as random as luck.
If psychology has taught me anything, it's that all things in the past influence all things in the future. At least, that's the strange sort of motto I've taken away from my semesters spent as a psych major.
I just refuse to believe that the events in our past are happenstance. I don't know if there is a "plan" but maybe there is - some great scheme that we are just too young a species to understand. Maybe it's a giant pattern we can't see.
I don't know.
But today I am certainly thankful.

Oh, wish me luck

So today's the day I'm meeting with David Henry Sterry to be his intern. This may very well be the most important meeting of my life, and I'm only 22. Imagine if it goes like shit?
The fact is, I am in desperate need of mentorship, writing-wise. I'm a good writer - I know I am (despite the fact that I can't read my own writing and get embarrassed when other people are reading it) - I just don't know how to say to the publishing world: "Knock Knock! Pay attention to me!" This could be my break. And I cross my fingers that it is - I need to be a writer. Nothing else I could possibly do in life would make me feel more me than being a writer.
*sigh* Yet, I'm reminding myself to be nervous. I know I am a little, but I'm not very nervous, like maybe I should be. Maybe the fact that this could be the biggest and best thing to ever happen to me should make me a bit more anxious than I am.
I've been more nervous before going on job interviews in corporate America. Of course I didn't get those jobs, but I was more nervous. I'm nervous, of course, but there's no little voice in my head telling me all the bad things that will happen if I don't get this. I don't know if that voice has just disappeared, because lately it hasn't shown up, or if I just can't conceive not getting this.

... Mayybe, Jill, you should stop over analyzing this thing before you drive yourself insane.
Good idea Jill.
I know.