A Story Forever: A Music Review

Mike Peralta is a Music Man from SoCal, whose lyrics make him a great contemporary poet. His songs reach out and enchant you, with their soft, emotive nature. And they sometimes surprise you with a little touch of humor in just the right place.







In my opinion, his songs would add great value, and heart, to a good many movie soundtracks in place of lesser songs by “name” bands. As a matter of fact, when I listen to songs such as “Starlit Moon,” or “She Wants Me,” from the album Music of My Youth, I can picture one of today’s young ingenues walking down wet pavement hand in hand with one of the hot, young romantic heroes of the hour under an umbrella after all has been said and done, and they have gotten their happy ending. Or the young heroine sitting at the window staring out sadly at all the happy couples on the street. (Obviously I watch too many movies, huh?)


While I enjoy each and every song of Mike P’s that I have heard, there is a special place in my tiny little heart for “New Girlfriend,” a song that blends together a catchy tune, a little anger, and a special touch of humor. (I refuse to ruin this one for you. You have got to hear it for yourself.)


Mike is one of my Twitter buddies. I’m not exactly sure how I found him, possibly via another Twitter buddy, @ActuallyAnthony, but I am thankful that I did. Mike is a super nice guy, with a great sense of humor, who actually likes to connect with his fans and keeps us up to date on what’s going on in his world. He hosts chats on his website, tweets with us, blogs, throws mp3 giveaways quite frequently, which is how I came to know his music. It’s nice to get to know the man behind the music. I like to be able to understand where his songs are coming from.






Mike’s newest single, “A Story Forever,” was released just yesterday on his website, iTunes, and Amazon, and is already making waves amongst his fans. “A Story Forever” has that Mike Peralta sound I’ve come to know and love, but this time, joining his guitar and lead vocals, are light drums, strings and some back up synth vocals. None of the latter overwhelm the former; in my opinion, they all blend together to form a pretty perfect song that is both similar and different from the other songs in his repertoire.

I say similar, because, as I said, you get the familiar Mike Peralta sound, but it’s different because of the sorrow that you can hear in the music and in the lyrics, something quite different from “New Girlfriend,” and even “I Want to Be Sad,” a song about a young man who sees sadness in everything around him.


To find out a little about the story behind “A Story Forever,” check out Mike Peralta’s blog on his website. If you subscribe to the newsletter, you automatically get a free mp3 download. Cruise around a little to check out his discography and give a listen. For your convenience, he has useful links such as iTunes, Amazon, Myspace, Facebook, and Twitter posted on the main page. (He even has a link to find other fans!)Follow him on Twitter @mikeperalta. If you see him online, just say “Hi.” It’s a great ice breaker.



Ps. I borrowed both pics from Mike’s website, totally without permission. Thank you and sorry!

My Love Letter to Daytime Tv

Dear Daytime Tv of My Childhood,

The world and the Powers that Be want you to change. Disappear. Become more…real.
I disagree with this decision wholeheartedly and am doing what I can to fight the good fight. We’ve got allies in high places, and all the “little people” are doing what we can to save you.

I, for one, want you to stay the way you are. You are, and you have been for 30 years, my escape, my inspiration. Since the moment I came home from my one and only day at preschool, and sat down to see Julie Williams’(Susan Hayes, DAYS) face on the screen.

You have been there to comfort me when I was sick. You have also been the REASON I was “sick” on many an occasion. You have added romance to a life where previously there was none.

I was upset when Another World went away and Days of Our Lives lost its damn mind, so I sought sanctuary at ABC, with three strong leaders of daytime. All My Children(Greg & Jenny forever!), One Life to Live(how can you not love Tess? And Todd? And Blair? And-) General Hospital, where the women look good AND run the show, and the men look good and back up their women.

I have been faithful to the three ABC soaps for the past several years, recording days and days on an old VHS so I don’t miss what happened with Dorian and David or Kendall and Zack. So it’s understandable that I am upset with the news of One Life to Live and All My Children’s cancellations. I cried like I had just lost my best friend. I started shaking, got furious, and got pro-active. I was not about to take this lying down, ESPECIALLY not when the man who made this decision wants to treat us like trained animals and force us to watch what HE wants us to watch. (I love you, Tim Gunn, but I do NOT need a lifestyle show)

So. There is a Facebook campaign. Twitter is heated with #saveoursoap hashtags #fireFrons is another popular one. There are petitions. If you want to help Save Our Soaps, then just jump in. The more physical letters the better. Email, call, write your local affiliate that their ratings will be going down after the shows are gone. Warn them about the money they will be losing. Talk to their ad department. Email the sponsors whose commercials air during our shows. Tell THEM not only will you boycott their products, but there is no reason for them to watch daytime tv anymore, once the shows are gone.

Write the crew. Write the actors. Send a letter to the writers, thanking them for what they’ve been doing. It’s not a sign of giving up, it’s sending our support to THEM. Several hundred people will soon be unemployed. They could use our support as well.

Dearest Daytime, I am urging everyone I can to speak up and make their displeasure known. If the viewers get into an uproar and start bringing money into the fray ( THANK YOU, HOOVER!) they will listen with both ears. You don’t mess with a businessman and his money.

I dare say, my dearest daytime tv, we have learned a thing or to in our time.

Keeping Romance Alive,

Samantha Jane


If you are interested in helping save One Life to Live and All My Children, I’ve gleaned the following info from other SOS sites.



Robert A. Iger
President and CEO
Walt Disney Company
500 S. Buena Vista Street
Mail Stop 1062
Burbank, CA 91521


Anne X. Sweeney
President
ABC Television Network
500 S. Buena Vista Street
Burbank, CA 91521


Brian Frons
President
ABC Daytime Programming
500 S. Buena Vista Street
Burbank, CA 91521


Proctor & Gamble
Dave McCracken
NA MDO External Relations
One Procter & Gamble Plaza
Cincinnati, OH 45202
Phone: 513-983-6248
Email: mccracken.ds@pg.com


Marie-Laure Salvado
Director, External Relations North America MDO
One Procter & Gamble Plaza
Cincinnati, OH 45202
Phone: 513-893-7643
Email: Salvado.ml@pg.com
Fax: 513-945-4412


Gerri Cunnigan
NA MDO External Relations
One Procter & Gamble Plaza
Cincinnati, OH 45202
Phone: 513-983-0816
Email: cunnigan.ge@pg.com


Kimberly Clark
Kimberly-Clark Corporation
PO Box 619100
Dallas, TX 75261-9100
Phone: 972-281-1200
Fax: 972-281-1490


Colonial Penn
Colonial Penn Life Insurance Company
399 Market Street
Philadelphia, PA 19181
Phone: 1-877-877-8052


And let’s not forget Disney’s Board of Directors. If thousands of angry soap fans suddenly decided to boycott their products, how would they feel about cancelling the soaps. Board members who run or are on the board of other companies who you can contact are:

John S. Chen
Sybase Inc.
Sybase, United States Headquarters
One Sybase Drive
Dublin, CA 94568
Phone: 1-800-SYBASE5 (792.2735) or 1-925-236-5000

Judith L. Estrin
JLABS, LLC
2455 Augustine Drive
Santa Clara, CA 95054
Phone: 408.490.1000
Fax: 408.562.0080


Steve Jobs
Apple, Inc.
1 Infinite Loop
Cupertino, CA 95014
Phone: 408.996.1010
Fred H. Langhammer


Estee Lauder
767 Fifth Avenue
New York, NY 10153
Phone: 212-572-4200


Aylwin B. Lewis
Potbelly Sandwich Works
222 Merchandise Mart Plz
23rd Floor
Chicago, IL 60654
Phone: (312) 951-0600
Monica C. Lozano


impreMedia, LLC
700 S. Flower Street, Suite 3000
Los Angeles, CA 90017
Phone: (213) 622-8332


Robert W. Matschullat
The Clorox Company
1221 Broadway
Oakland, CA 94612
Phone: (510) 271-7000
Robert W. Matschullat


Visa Inc.
Visa Inc
900 Metro Center Blvd.
Foster City, CA 94404
Phone: 650-432-3200
Fax: 650-432-7436
(via savesoaps.freei.me)

Twitter Is My Shrink

I had a new kind of breakdown last night. It was different from the others in that I wasn't sobbing hysterically or angry or hurt or feeling anything other than...well, I'm not really sure what I was feeling. Not jealousy. Maybe envy tinged with regret. But I knew, years ago, that the regret would come. It was one of those, "I'm going to do THIS. I know THIS is going to make me feel like THIS in the future, so don't complain about it when it happens." I'm not exactly complaining. Just trying to write out and understand the feelings. So. I "went off" several times in 140 characters or less. It's nothing explosive, you see. Just stuff that was in my head that needed to get out. It seemed like it should be a blog instead, so here I am. I'm not re-formatting or re-wording anything, as tonight's emotions would color what I wrote last night.


Reading a blog of a person I used to call "friend"--I can't call anyone "Friend" b/c I'm not one anymore. It hurts to see what I've missed..

I have limitations, mostly monetary, some mental, & I HAVE2live w/i my limits. I've always been "Baby in the corner" b/c I put myself there.

It's easier to be away from everyone for me. My head is so full, I can't focus on anything. So i'm trying to focus on ME, as everyone says 2

I've never really been part of a group. I'm the one on the outskirts, watching, feeling, emoting, not feeling cared for. Still there.

So I don't trust easily. And when I do, it usually ends up badly. So. No trusting. No friends. No fun. All raw emotion and nowhere to put it

It makes me wish that I was taught the RIGHT way to be a human, to be a person. I wasn't. No one taught me. They thought I already knew.

But I don't. And that's why I get the looks, or the cold shoulder, from mostly everyone. "Oh, Sam's here. Ok." I'd like to walk into a room

like my little David Mays and get the "Norm" treatment. I don't want to take anything away from my David, b/c I adore him, but I'm jealous

of that little fucker. I won't lie. He's awesome. Even when he's DOWN, he's awesome. And I don't have the tools to be there for him.

I lost my dad before he lost his, so I should have known how to show him how to get through it. But I'm not like everyone else, so I can't.

I have to concentrate all my energies on surviving, not dying, and just staying afloat. Everyone else has great "salaried" careers. I don't.

My only problem w/that is the $$$ I don't have to go places & do things. So I'm at home. I had what I would call a successful theatre career

In my time in the theatre, I worked on or participated in 200 or more shows and did a fairly decent job. THAT was my career. I have retired

from the theatre due2some BULL SHIT that was thrown at me. Now I'm becoming even more hermity as a writer, my FIRST love, & ppl don't get it

And I certainly don't expect them to. I was raised NOT to have friends, but acquaintances. I didn't do sleepovers, phone calls. I did recess

And having acquaintances seems much safer than the alternative.I wasted SEVEN years on some mess. Thankfully I got the gist of that mess on

paper, which is Story #1. Thanks for the life experience, Dbag. (Yes, DBag. The anger comes nearly a decade later.) I was stunted by this

experience, and wasn't able to be open and giving at a time when I needed to be, or needed something from them(something being support)

I'm even more closed off now. I focus my emotions on the stories I'm trying to develop. I want, I need, I would like to have, but why give

voice to those things I won't ever have? I wasn't put on this earth for anything other than to learn and create. I wasn't put here 2 love or

be loved. I'm here to experience all the bad, take it in so that others won't necessarily have to experience it. I'm the empath. I feel what

others feel, but hold no excitement, love, peace, serenity, happiness for myself. It's not to be. I feel as if I was hatched from an egg.

I got the worst version of parents available. Sure, I blame them for a BUNCH of stuff, at the beginning, but then who's at fault later?

Their influence was there, of course, but then I got to be "on my own" ish and went nutbag crazy. And went downhill from there.

The. End.



That's it. It's disjointed. It's imperfect. It's real. It's vulnerable. It's true. There's no "Throw me a pity party" here, not an explanation, but just the way I feel and have felt. I would say I'm more of an observer, but my sightlines have diminished quite a bit since I started throwing people off my island.

Only in My Dreams

So I just woke up. I was having a dream, and I really needed to wake up from it. It wasn't a nightmare, but it did make me sad.

Ok, so I was...somewhere...and I was by myself, I think I was at a camp site or in the lot of a concert site or something, but there's available storage, or a car, not sure which. In my mind, it's one of my old bedrooms from my childhood, the blue one with all the sun. But it's pretty much just me, a chair and an umbrella, which I'm getting ready to set up on some rocks. I have a tent in this room, but as I tell the person who latches onto me, I'm not putting up the tent b/c my nieces and nephew and their mother used it for a camping trip and it's all wet and fishy inside. This person, a female, kind of a cross between "Mellie'/"November" from Dollhouse and the lesbian from my 8th grade year who kept trying to sleep with me. (Just for the record, EW.). I think this is one reason I'm not setting up the tent. I also mention that we're on top of gravelly rocks and I just want my chair.

All of a sudden, this vision kind of just goes away, and I'm at this super awesome cabin in the woods at a huge party. There are tons of people there, and I know most of them, but, in real life, I don' t recognize them. Like, I don't see Lauren and Jimmy, but I can feel Richard and Carlye. Sort of. I know these people have been my friends, but I'm not sure about now. I sense an ill feeling, like not everyone likes me. And I just want to go out for a cigarette. I think the weirdo from earlier is kind of there, I think, trying to get me to be alone with her--ish. I think I go out for a cigarette, which I don't remember, and go back in and people are talking about my "rival."

For some reason, I'm really craving another cigarette. I think it's chilly outside, so I'm looking for my black hoodie---which I haven't worn in years; it's my Stage Manager hoodie that I retired a few years ago--and I thought I had put it on the loveseat by the front door. I looked, not there. I looked around a bit and returned to the loveseat but there were people on it. I saw what looked like it, but didn't really pay attention.

I went back into another room to look and people were telling me my rival was there. Insanely curious, but really looking for my jacket so I could go smoke, I walk back into the front room, where the girl who plays "Mia," I think, on Days of Our Lives, is coming towards me with a big fake smile and a present. She smiles at me, holds up her present, says something, and keeps walking. (This is strange in real life b/c A. I don't have a rival, and 2. I don't watch Days a whole lot anymore, but I did see a scene with this girl, and she was carrying around a present.)

She continues on into the back of the house, but it seems the place is abuzz with the news that the "Rivals" are in the same place. "Rival" is the term from my dream, not the one I chose.

I continue my search for my jacket, but soon give it up, willing to freeze. I head toward the front door and it opens to reveal...Brian Jones.

(Brian Jones is the name of my second grade crush(which I just now remembered), and also the name of a very talented actor from UCO, and one boy I never had in my sights. He was already taken(by pure Evil) by the time I met him. Sure, he was cute, talented, smart, but I never thought of him in a lustful, gotta have you kind of way. I barely knew him.)

So. In walks UCO actor Brian Jones, and I think he's wearing a letterman-style coat. I can feel the material beneath my cheek when I hug him. Apparently he's my fiance. And he used to be "Mia's." I'm excited and grateful to see him. The paparazzi didn't follow him. He's a soap actor. H

He asks me what I'm doing. I want a cigarette and I'm looking for my jacket. I drag him all over the cabin to find it, again. I think I see it under someone's butt on the loveseat and try to pull it from under them, but I give up, thinking it's not my jacket. I say, "I give up. I'll just freeze." So Brian and I go outside on the porch where we're mostly alone. That's when I notice I'm wearing my ugly winter coat. I chastise Brian for not telling me that I was already wearing one. But I didn't have it on inside. And it's warm enough outside not to be wearing one, so I shed it and leave it on the porch before I lean my cheek against his chest. My hand goes up to feel his neck, his cheek, his hair. I can't remember if I say it first, or he does, but one of us says, "I love you." The other says it back.

I feel surprised to hear the words. I think I said it first. "I love you." And he says, "I love you, too." And he means it. Experimentally, I say it again, with more feeling, and cuddling into him. He says it back again. I can feel his love. We just stand there with our arms around each other, and then I wake up.

I made myself wake up. I was too disturbed by this. I have never said these words to a person and really meant it. Actually, I've only said these words, for this kind of love, once, in a refurbished barn, to someone who didn't deserve it or say it back. But I've never said it to someone and them said it back, him knowing every bit of me and still saying it. But I felt it when he said it back. And in that moment, I was incredibly happy, and fulfilled. For that second. Until I woke up, incredibly confused as to why I was dreaming about a boy I didn't even really know, haven't thought about in a long time.

I'm sure this is all fraught with meaning, but it doesn't matter. Humans have a basic need for love. I want it, sure, but I'm not going to get it. Logically speaking, it's ok. I've already come to terms with what I'm not going to have. Mostly because I don't want it. I don't want anyone to know me that well again. No, I don't want to get hurt again, so there's a wall between me and everyone else. It's safer for me to do this, easier to keep everyone at arm's length, because I know that the only person who I could love that wholly and could love me back like that doesn't exist. There isn't a man alive who could put up with/deal with/be with me. And that's ok. It doesn't keep me from wanting all that, but once I realized that isn't going to happen, and that's not going to be what fulfills me, that I have another plan, another purpose on this earth, it's fine.

Yes, it's lonely. Yes, I would love to cuddle on the couch watching a movie on a cold night, or spend a whole rainy Sunday in bed, but that isn't my destiny. I don't have big dreams, or aspirations. I just do what I can, what I have to to survive and keep myself busy. I've cut a lot of people out of my inner circle...right now, I have two straight females in that inner circle, a gay man, and two other straight girls in the next circle, a couple of couples in the next and the one after is where I put the one straight boy I talked to. Everyone else is just about inconsequential. They fall where they fall. I keep them away b/c my friendship is inconsequential. They live their lives, and I'm a fringe friend. I've been like this since I was a kid.

So, it's nothing new.

Mommy Blogging

So there's been all this hoopla about Mommy Blogging, and what basically boils down to payola or bribes or whatever. Mommies talk about the products they use, and then big companies send them freebies or whatever, so then the Mommies say that whatever product they just got is the best thing ever and that everyone should be using them-even if it's a car seat made out of jello.

Mommies like free stuff. And Mommies talk to other Mommies about things they buy.

Guess who also does that?

Single people. We, too, talk about the products that work and don't work, but we have to pay for them--I don't see anyone sending me a DVR, or video game, or even a free sample of yogurt. If I got something awesome like that, for free, to try out, I would shout it from the roof tops, even if the product wasn't all that good. It's free, and the company had the goodwill to try it out on me.

See, even if a product didn't hit me just right, maybe something I said might hit someone else the right way. Just b/c it doesn't work for me, I wouldn't bad mouth a product. But I wouldn't rave about it, either, just so the company would keep sending me stuff. If it wasn't for me, I would find someone else who would enjoy it.

FTC needs to get off the bloggers' backs...but on the other side of that coin, the bloggers need to up their integrity and not do things that could possibly endanger people.

That being said.....If anyone out there has products you would like ME to try...chocolate, motor oil, computer software, sewing needles, you go on ahead and contact me. If I don't like your product, I will tell you first, and I'll tell you why. I wouldn't bad mouth you without a reason.

Beer Basics from BeerBitch12

Ales vs. Lagers

The word Ale may come from the Old English "ealu," or even further, "alut," which holds connotations of "sorcery, magic, possession, intoxication."






Lager, comes from "lagern," which
means "to store."






An Ale is a type of beer using top-fermented yeast, fermented at higher temps so they ferment faster than lagers. These higher temps produce significant amount of esters, which give the beer a fruity quality, whether it be pineapple, apple, banana, etc., so they have a sweeter, fuller body than lagers.




A Lager is a type of beer that uses bottom-fermented yeast that ferments at lower temperatures at the bottom of the vessel. They are usually light in color and usually fall into one of the three following categories: helles, pale lager or Pilsner. Because of the type of yeast and temperatures used, lagers are more mild than ales and have less fruitiness and spiciness to them, as the lower temps don't release as many esters as in a lager.




That was Beer Lesson #1

Next up: Beer Laws of Oklahoma!

Beginner's Sake 101

Just a few facts, a little information for anyone interested in Sake...


--Sake is often called the "Drink of the Gods" by the Japanese and is produced from rice, water, koji spores and specially selected yeasts.

--Sake is brewed like beer but drinks like a wine, and has 15-16% alcohol per volume (apv).

--Premium sake is to regular sake what Single Malt Scotch is to the blends.

--Premium sake is brewed by family craftsman rather than large industrial manufacturers, and is made by hand rather than machine.

--Premium sake is gluten-free, sulfite free and kosher.

--Sake can be served chilled or warm, at body temperature, and not piping hot, as heat destroys the flavor.



Levels of Sake

Junmai-shu --highest grade of sake made with pure rice and uses less than 70% polished rice. It ends up heavier and tasting fuller than other sake.

Honjozo-shu--has a small amount of ethyl alcohol added during the final stages. Water is added later to keep the alcohol content the same. It's lighter and drier than others and can be served warm.

Ginjo-shu--uses 60% polished rice and is fermented even longer than Junmai, which results in a complex and delicate flavor.

Daiginjo-shu--like Ginjo but the rice is polished to 50% of the original size and takes even longer to make.

Futsuu-shu is any sake that doesn't fit into one of the other categories.

Oklahoma gets a good deal of Futsuu, but the Premium Ginjo is rising in popularity, and is starting to be made available.

Class dismissed!




Info comes from Vine Connections, wineintro.com, and The Sake Handbook.

There's no clever title today.

I will straight up admit it.

I do not like to see other people happy.

I am fucking irate today.

I am not sure why, exactly.

It's like the PMS/PMDD is extending itself beyond its time, but is EXTREMELY bad RIGHT NOW.


It's August 11, 2009.

So what, right? It's Danyel and Jon Jon's wedding anniversary. It's Turner's birthday. It's Dave Bewley's birthday...It's Derek Bewley's birthday.

Aha.

Wonderful.

So I am in a rage because of THAT? AGAIN? REALLY?

I am really hoping not.

But, yes, as one of my facebook statuses(stati?) I said something about the 4th or 5th worst day of my life being 8/11/02...Right after May 25, 2005, July 1, 2002, and graduation day 2003, or May 3, 2003.

Yes, I know the dates.

Each one is engraved on my mind and soul for all time.

Not to be overly dramatic, or anything.

I am seriously pissed off.

I guess.

I am not entirely sure WHAT I am feeling.

Let's dissect.

I am completely broke. I have no money for gas and I have no idea how I am getting home and back to work tomorrow. Every literal penny I have is gone. I cannot get out of the ghetto that I call home. I can't eat this week.

I am stuck in fucking limbo.

I can't even explain myself well enough, can't get my ideas across, about something I am passionate about...and when I try, I end up losing.

Quitters never win, yes? Well, I wish I had never started.

Why do you have a fake id?/So I can vote.

My childhood is dying, right before my eyes.

Michael Jackson, dead at the age of 50, due to a dr. who couldn't say "No" to the King of Pop, and instead enabled his disease, thereby killing him with a drug that should ONLY be used in ORs, under the careful watch and guidance of an anestheologist.

Not that I had his posters up and was totally enamored of him...I didn't realize how big of a fan I was til I found out he was gone. Sounds about right, for my life.

John Hughes, founder of Shermer, Illinois, director of all 80s movies that really mattered, died today of a heart attack while walking down the street with his family in NYC. "The city claims another victim," so sayeth Jenn Turner.

WTF?

Creator of Sixteen Candles, Weird Science, The Breakfast Club...Mr. Mom, even. I grew up on this stuff. THIS is what has made me [partially] the smart ass I am today. As sophomoric as "they" say the humor was, it seemed real. It seemed that every Samantha would get her Jake(ha!) and that all misfits had a place. It gave us hope.

Now what do we have? Vampires that sparkle in the sun?

THAT's not hopeful.

THAT's faggy.

RIP John Hughes.

A moment of Zen...or someone is getting Hate Crimed.

I am irate. But I am not showing it. I am being calm.

I am being downright Zen.

But I am pissed.

And Miss Mary is fluttering about, like there is absolutely nothing wrong.

Well, let me tell you
1) Telling people what is wrong with them in a list form via text message is INCORRECT. 2) Especially when you claim to be FRIENDS with them. 3.) You're a fucking douche.

Seriously, out of all the people that know me, not many KNOW me, and not many LIKE me.

And guess how much I care?

Not much. Or else I would be crying for Annie's forgiveness for saying something stupid. I'm sorry you don't like the truth, sweetie, but regardless of the fact that it's FOR YOUR OWN GOOD, I lived through it, so I can call it like I see it. For instance, I am the Original Gangsta Fag Hag(who is on Fag Sabbatical) and I can call a Fag a Fag. See what I mean?

Anyway, I may be looking for a new job....I can't work under the current gay administration, if you get me...

Don' t Look

First of all, before I get started, fuck Wikipedia.


Secondly, why do I ALWAYS want what I'm not willing to ask for? What I know I can' t have, don't deserve? Shouldn't ever have?

And why do I want it so bad? Well, I guess I know the answer to that question...but WHY does it have to happen the exact same way everytime?

I hate feeling heartsick over something I can't change. I am who I am, I look like what I do...On the outside of me, it's not that bad, but having all of the knowledge that I possess on this particular subject....it's not enough. I am not enough. Not for anyone else. And that sucks. Because it used to be ok. Now it's not.

It actually hurts...like it did with Derek...only now, it's torture b/c I don't have the choice to run away. I just have to see it, live it, every day.

I know it's more trouble than it's worth, but I don't have any sort of intimate relationship with anyone...Not sex, intimacy, inner knowledge shared with another.

Birthday Hugs are one thing....This is on a different level.

I don't like showing weakness, but that's what I do.


PS On the other side, I keep thinking about the hot bathroom sex I had about 5 or 6 years ago....wish it would have ended differently, or not happened so I could remember it. And weird turtle sex...You don't even understand what is being done to me.

Sleep in Heavenly Peace

This is a day I never thought I would see. Very much like the O.J. Simpson white Bronco situation, I am glued to watching the hearse carrying Michael Jackson's body to the Staples Center.

When Elvis died, it was major.

When Martin Luther King, Jr. was killed, it was major.

When Kurt Cobain took his own life, it was major.

Michael Jackson died, under slightly suspicious circumstances. That is major.

The King of Pop is dead. And it's possible his death could have been avoided. That is a tragedy.

There are some people wondering why I am so upset about this death. Well, 99% of the entire world is upset; this man made a huge impact on my young life, without me evening knowing it. That's one reason. Another is...It's a death. It's another funeral. If you had gone through as much death and been to as many funerals as I have in the past 5 years, you would understand completely.

I don't think I'm a Death Hag, necessarily. I think that I am inches away from Death at any moment of any day, so the Reaper and I are very close.

This is a loss EVERYONE feels. Dancers, singers, actors, black folk, white folk, London Town, Asians, Koreans, Canadians...EVERYONE is feeling, and celebrating and hurting.

How is it possible that we now live in a world without Michael Jackson? When he's been a fixture in our lives and in our hearts for forty years? Now, all of a sudden, he's gone.

How do you even reconcile that?

High School Musical

When Kurt Cobain killed himself in April of 1994, I had found out that morning on the bus, and then later that morning, in Junior Honors English, I made a really crass joke about it to my best friend Crystal, who had been sitting behind me. We didn't know anything about Grunge--she listened to country and I loved NKOTB. I didn't know anything about the guy, just assumed it was some sort of drugged up rock star who couldn't take it.

I was incredibly wrong. It was only within the last 10-13 years that I really started to respect the man, and understand his music and what he was going through. When I was 16, I had no idea. It wasn't until college that I started to gravitate towards him. And then after I started hanging out with Derek, I really started learning more and more about KC and his music.

Now, Nirvana is one of my favorite bands, and Kurt Cobain in the Top 5 Artists of All Time in my book.


Thursday, June 25, 2009, saw the ending of an era. Michael Jackson, the King of Pop, died of Cardiac Arrest in California.

Michael Jackson.

"Billie Jean." "Beat It." "Bad." "Dangerous." "Thriller."

That Michael Jackson.

TMZ was the first to drop the news on their website, and Tinisha was probably the second person in the land to know. She passed the news onto me, and I onto the work folks, and so on.

I'm very good at telling bad news. However, I texted Rory and Turner. It was a hasty text that didn't necessarily sound believeable.

But it was true.

And, according to recent reports, Michael Jackson died of an accidental overdose of the painkiller Demerol. Which, to me, sounds like the doctor is at fault. He has already lawyered up. He knows he's in trouble. He killed the King of Pop. Too bad Johnnie Cochran isn't around to help him out....

So, since the story broke around 5pm on Thursday, the radio stations and music television stations have been playing the music, and the Behind the Music-style shows for just such a purpose. We've been able to see and hear his progression from childhood to adulthood. Chronologically speaking, anyway.

You see how the person himself, changes, and the music, as time goes on. It's amazing and breathtaking, and even though apparently Invincible was the music world's Ishtar, musically, he could do no wrong.

He invented the Moonwalk, he invented and patented special shoes and new technologies for his video movies....he helped put Africa in the spotlight, and helped to feed hungry people. He may have started the Green movement, some argue.

Others are calling this mourning situation hypocritcal, because his music hasn't been played this much in a while, and he hasn't had a huge call for publicity; i.e. no one is talking about him.

First off, people are ALWAYS talking about Michael Jackson. He is the UNDISPUTED King of Pop. Recognize.

Secondly, just because YOU aren't hearing about him in YOUR OWN TINY LITTLE WORLD, that doesn't mean, other parts of the world aren't celebrating him.
He was just about to hit an upswing, with a bunch of London concert dates that would earn him at least $40 million. Or was it billlion? I forget. Either way, it would have helped him tremendously, in getting him back to the top.

It's unfortunate that his death has had to do that. The top ten albums on just about any downloading site are Michael Jackson. His album sales are THROUGH THE ROOF.
And even if those babies aren't biologically his, they will be taken care of.

I do believe that Neverland should be turned into a museum like Graceland. It only makes sense. Seriously. But I do like Dap's idea that we should all chip in and buy it.

Ok, so Michael Jackson was never on my list as one of my favorite artists.

Now, before I get shot, let me explain this statement.

As Kurt Cobain before him, I didn't actively listen to his music. I didn't really have money for to buy all the music in the land that I wanted, and I still don't. I get most of my music from the radio. So I don't get to hear the entire Thriller or Bad album, only bits and pieces here and there.

But since all of the tributes have started(BET being the latest, with their awards show) I've been getting a greater sense, a greater feel. I thought Tinisha was going to kill me because I'd never seen Moonwalker or heard all of "Dirty Diana." And no, I haven't seen The Wiz, either.
But I understand why everyone is grieving, and mourning and celebrating and playing his music.

So I have to say....If you don't care/like the music/are tired of it, I don't actually care. I HOPE the radio stations keep playing the music, I HOPE that MTV actually continues to play the videos, any videos, really. And as I said, on my Facebook post the other day,

Don't stop until you get enough. Grieve and mourn and celebrate in your own way, in your own time. I know death, and while this isn't an immediate family member, he is still family. And no amount of horrible jokes about pedophilia are going to dim what the man was: A Consummate performer who cared deeply about other people. He was The Perfomer.

To the haters: Think what you want. You're in the minority. Just don't push it in my face.

To the rest: Send good thoughts and vibes out into the universe. He'll get them.
He may be busy getting a show together in the Ether world, with Jerry and Jimi and whoever...but damn, aren't those some lucky fans?

Life is what you make of it

Well, guess what? I'm not making lemonade....

When it rains, it pours.

So I'm getting my hours cut at work.

Obviously that means less money.

Less chance of me being able to move out of the ghetto anytime soon.

More chance of me going absolutely nuts. 

I really, really, really hate money. I hate that I have to have it, for every little thing. It DOES make the world go 'round when you have absolutely nothing else to spin your world.

So I am about to be screwed. The new shoes, the new underclothes that I was going to buy b/c I don't have any that aren't falling apart....well, that's out. It's strictly Rent, Electric, Phone, Gas & Food. There are no entertainment options. I barely get by with the gas and food. And I have two loans that I need to be paying off, but am totally unable to do.

I just don't see me getting another job. An additional one. I don't see me getting a "better" job, either. I think the job that I have is just fine. There's talk of promotion, but not until business gets better, or sold.

So there's no way to go up right now. Just in pay, and that's only twice a year. Ha. I say "only," but it took me four years at Panera to get to just over $9. I had to start over at C & B, but I made it to $10 in less than a year. Sure, there's a cap, but damn, just give me some hours and keep me in the double digits!

Yes, when it rains it pours. I'm working on my book. Had to start a complete chapter overhaul last night. I'm supposed to try to be done by September. I really don't think this is going to happen.

Oh, why isn't there someone awesome and cool out there who I can either live with or rent from and still live my life but also have someone to come home to or some cheaper place to come home to? I'm jealous of Haque and Chris Curtis. Hell, I'm jealous of boys. Their lives are so simple. It's easy to make them happy.

Who am I kidding? I couldn't live with anyone. I'm the Worst Roommate Ever. I really am. I hold the title...proudly, I guess. As a result, I won't ever get cheap rent again. I can't live with friends, and I don't have a man to come home to who will treat me right and make me dinner and give me back rubs. It hurts me that I'm totally glad that I don't have a man to come home to. Sure, I get lonely, but I don't have to answer to anyone. I don't have to have dinner ready when he gets home, I can shower whenever I want, I can eat whenever, whatever. 

I have no one to impress. I don't have to work hard for anyone. I don't care anymore about that. I am quite content living the way I do. Clean apartment or no, I don't have anyone to answer to. I don't have any visitors to my apartment besides Rory and Jef, but who cares?

All of you should be ashamed of yourselves.

You told me I didn't need a man to be happy, that I could make myself happy.

Well, thanks. As a result of that, I have become way more selfish and self-involved. I was already that before, but now it's worse. "Spend time on YOU." I HAVE spent time on me. Thirty two years worth of time I have spent on myself. I know myself. I like myself(or I am at least resigned to those things I cannot change--oh, boy, starting to sound like the serenity prayer from AA). I am just fine with myself. It is everyone else that has a problem with me. Guess what? I don't care. I don't have to care about anyone's feelings but my own. People around me don't like that. "What? You mean you aren't going to spare my feelings? You're going to give me the truth?" Bitch, please. I don't have time to tap dance around your life, I have mine to get back to.

I would like to apologize for not seeing or speaking to most people I know. Like Jenny & Bryan & Sawyer...and Cris and Dri....Shannon....they know I love them, even if I don't talk to them on a daily basis, weekly, monthly....even if all I have is Facebook, or Twitter. I can show them that way. Just b/c I don't call, doesn't mean I don't love you or want to be anywhere around you....

It's just easier. I feel like I'm getting in the way, anyway. My path is different.

I probably should have listened when they read that Robert Frost poem at high school graduation. I probably wouldn't be in the fix I'm in today. 

Or maybe I would.

1. The Road Not Taken

TWO roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler, long I stood And looked down one as far as I could To where it bent in the undergrowth;         5   Then took the other, as just as fair, And having perhaps the better claim, Because it was grassy and wanted wear; Though as for that the passing there Had worn them really about the same,         10   And both that morning equally lay In leaves no step had trodden black. Oh, I kept the first for another day! Yet knowing how way leads on to way, I doubted if I should ever come back.         15   I shall be telling this with a sigh Somewhere ages and ages hence: Two roads diverged in a wood, and I— I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference.

My Big Talent

I have a Big Talent. I have a few smaller ones, but only one Big Talent. And I'm totally ashamed of it.

I have an incredibly vivid imagination. But it's incredibly boring. All I think of is sex. Well, romance novel type scenarios. All I can think of in any given day is one or two storylines in particular...music is a big inspiration, so anytime I hear a particular song, I can be sent into a trance. 

I can write smut. And well.

That's my talent. I have a filthy mind, so I'm trying to exploit it. It needs to be used for SOMETHING. Hopefully this is something for which I can get paid.

I am almost done with the fourth edit of my novel( I really hate calling it a novel, although that IS what it is.). It's slow going. As soon as this edit is done, I will print it again, and do a fifth edit, and try to answer all the questions I have and fix it as best I can. Then one or two people will get to read and edit for grammar, etc & content. Then I shall re-fix, and get a packet together to send to all the editors in the land.

The basis is something that is near to me. I can't say "near and dear" b/c it sho' ain't dear. Hello, worst moment of my life on paper...no, it's not all that dear. But it's a story that has a beginning, a middle, and an end. I can't say "closure," b/c I don't think that closure actually occurred. Not that it matters. What the hell ever. I'm talking about my book.

I am horribly embarrassed about letting anyone read it who isn't a fan of romance novels. The RN fan would be a possible easy sell. They know the structure, and what's supposed to be happening in the book. I'm afraid of what others will say....see, if I can't write a book and let people read it, then what the hell is the point?

I haven't EVER let anyone read ANY of the smut I've written....I posted some of it on my myspace blog....got Jenny all interested in "Ian and Eliza" but abandoned them in favor of a new couple: "Chris and Julie."

They were supposed to have different names, but as they have been around for about a year, the names stuck. The characters became these people. I can't just up and change their names now.

So I have characters. Mostly really fleshed out characters b/c they are all based on SOMEONE...or five or six someones. There' s only one character who makes a brief appearance that I can't name or put any attributes to...He's basically Dr. Bristow, but I can't call the character "Don." I don't actually want the man to know that he's one of my characters....

I stated that wrong. The character I am thinking about is similar to Daddy B. But this character, just a one time director, is not the most important character. Plus, he is just one professor personality of many who is being used as a template for this character. 

I don't know who the character is.....

And you know, if that is my biggest problem right now with the book, then yay. 

Why am I worrying about him? He's a Red Shirt going on an away mission. He isn't the most important part. Julie and her stormy blue eyes are pretty important. Chris and his hot, liquid brown eyes are important. But The Director? Just one minor character who may, or may not ever return.

I need to set a deadline. September I do believe will be a year since I started writing the story. 

God, this story has taken so long to tell. I'm tired of it, and almost no longer care.

The Industrial Revolution

That title is misleading. This isn't about the actual Industrial Revolution....it's been way too long for me to remember anything about it, so I added a link just in case anyone wanted to refresh themselves.

I don't even think that "Industrial Revolution" is the proper terminology for what I'm thinking about. IR was just something that popped into my head.

I just wanted to talk about my relationships. My relationships with my technology and machines. NOT THOSE MACHINES. You filthy beast.  

I'm talking about the computer, the internet, the cell phone that allows me to Tweet at any moment of the day. 

When I'm at work, I'm constantly attached to the computer, doing one thing or another. Facebook, Myspace, Twitter. For work and for myself. Promoting the business, or talking about SOMETHING completely ridiculous. Like right now, I'm ringing someone up, waiting for their money, while I'm blogging this.

I get sucked into the computer's vortex, especially since I don't have the internet at home.

At home, I have the computer, and a tv, and an ipod and other stuff that makes life a little bit harder, while trying to add to it. It doesn't actually add, it totally detracts. 

A few months ago I installed The Sims Deluxe Edition on my computer. I was taking a break from writing my book--the subject matter was getting too intense for me--so I played The Sims, day and night for a month or two. I haven't slept a proper night since sometime in late March. I have completely effed up my back, b/c I don't have a proper desk or chair. I am in so much pain.

I can't go to bed until 4 or 5 am...sometimes due to The Sims and sometimes due to the fact that I just can't sleep.

So I'm smoking too much, sleeping not enough, sleeping too late, not eating properly, too much caffeine...

Dude. It sucks. I am not enjoying this.

This is a shift, a change, due to my work schedule changing. I work nights now, mostly. I haven't worked a morning in months. My whole life is a little upside down. I'm not complaining(too hard); I've got a good job where I am allowed to be on the internet for the entire shift(in between customers and stocking). 

I feel like I'm becoming a cyborg. Resistance is futile, and all that. I have bonded more with this computer that I am working on than I have the people I work with. (Although with one of them, it's probably a good thing, or else I would be in another world of hurt)

Technological Revolution...that' s the terminology I was looking for.... I need a new Technological Revolution. One where I bond more with humans than the machines. I don't want ALL of my relationships to have to do with the machines....tv, blogging, music....conversation...For God's sake, when I play The Sims, their lives are just as dull as mine. 

So what the hell am I getting out of it?

Get Lost in a Star Trek

I love me some J.J. Abrams. I love me some Carlton Cuse and Damon Lindelof. They have got some crazy minds. Are they crazy enough, though, to give away hints from Lost during Star Trek?

Think about that for a second.

Are you with me?

At the end of Season 5 of Lost, the bomb presumably goes off, the screen goes white, the letters black. My immediate thought is...wait for it....Alternate Reality.

And why not? Locke isn't Locke, and half of them are in 1977, so why not?

I'm very ok with the idea of a possible alternate reality....(I'm not all that pleased with the "God" and "Biblical" direction...I am enjoying the Egyptian & philosophers side though).

And then I watch the Star Trek. Three times. Twice on my computer(thanks, Jef) and once at AMC Quail, so I had ample opportunity to come to this conclusion. Also, plenty of time to think on the Spock/Kirk & Jack/Sawyer relationships. 

There were just so many similarities that are hard to ignore....And while I love the way these guys work, sometimes it's easy to predict(but sometimes they surprise the hell out of you).

So....

What's up with the new guy?

What has Ben done to the statue? (You gotta know he's done SOMETHING.... "It was like that when I got here?" As Sun said, "You expect me to believe that?")

When are Sun and Jin gonna get their reunion?

Where is Claire?

Is Juliet dead and/or pregnant?

Why is Aaron so important?

Are all of the ghosts going to come back?

Is this an angel and demon kind of thing? 

Is Jacob where the white light for all the flashes came from? On that same hand, is the Dark fella the Smoke monster?

Does Kate deserve Sawyer?

I just know the answer to the last: No.

And Jacob says to "Flocke":  "They're coming."

WHO?

And that thing....."everything else is progress"? In my head this means all of this has happened before, over and over....maybe the last time it wasn't a plane, but a big ol ship...The Black Rock, perhaps? 

What's in a name?/Blame it on the ...X?

Ok, I am calling my newest blog The Rehab Lounge. I've always thought that would be a great name for a bar. (Other cool names include The Loading Dock, or The Fly Rail). 

Wait a minute. I think there actually is a bar named Rehab Lounge.....I think it was stuck in my memory somewhere.....from Jan. 1, 1997....the Dallas trip with Sara Jane, Turner, Katie and Leazel(!)....I think that the bar next door to the place where Sara Jane got her tongue pierced and Katie got her tattoo was called The Rehab Lounge. And I think I may actually have a picture of the sign somewhere...If I find it, I'm so posting it as my profile pic here. I also have a picture of Katie getting her tattoo; I watched the entire process. Hence, part of the reason I won't get inked.

So the name has stuck with me I guess.

And the name has been true enough for the apartment I call The Rehab Lounge. I said in my previous blog that I don't like to drink all that much(well, my parents were alcoholics, what do you expect? I do have my own addictive traits...just not booze), but I had plenty of issues with X, eh? I ate probably 500 tabs or more that Lost Summer of 2001, and haven't had many since. I say "many" because I know there were a few since then. No more than 3, if that. I reserve all my habits for smoking...and prescription pills like muscle relaxors or lortab--BECAUSE OF ACTUAL PAIN, and not just for fun, because, truly, they aren't all that fun.

I got burned out on booze in college...well, who wouldn't, after all of the McCormick's Vodka and the Beast you can hold? But now I know what to drink and what not to drink(Aventinus, yes. Red wine, no) I like to drink really expensive stuff. It's lucky for me that I DON'T drink very much, else my paycheck would go back to the store. Even with the discount I can't afford to drink anything but what's on the Pick 6...

See, I'm a Chivas or Glenlivet, a Stoli & U'luvka or New Amsterdam & Whitley Neill kind of girl.

I will unerringly pick a $42 bottle of wine over a $13, without knowing the price.

But I'm not high maintenance.

No, really.

Where ARE all of the Sex Offenders?

So I'm not actually actively looking...this was just a topic of conversation between a co-worker and myself. It's a slow night here at C&B...well, it's Monday...not many people want to get their margarita on tonight, I guess. 

I don't actually like to drink. Do you think this is a problem for a person who works in a liquor store? I'll go to trade shows and taste a little of everything, even stuff I don't like, for work. But if it's left up to me, I won't drink. I don't like the way it makes me feel, all tired and fuzzy. Pot makes some people feel that way(not me, I'm the Vision of Clarity after bong rips), but booze does it to me. Beer I can deal with just fine, as long as it's not Bud or anything they can sell cold in Oklahoma. Wine is the devil. I get too hot too fast. Not that kind of hot. Just flushed and wobbly. Liquor is hardly ever a good idea for me. It always hurts the next day....unless it's really low in proof or super girly. I can't let go and have fun, because I know what can happen. I mean, one delicious 9% apv beer (well, two), and a 100 proof shot of Rumple Minze can turn into a really bad night where you vandalize things....Not that that has happened....

But do you see what I mean? I don't like to drink, and usually only do so for work, or when I hang out with my crew of Bitches, and we're celebrating putting a douchebag's head on a pike, or something equally as awesome. But just to go home and drink a glass, a bottle of wine or whiskey just for fun...

I'd rather smoke a blunt.