howeverbrief: (Skull)
"Williams' Response"
Yea, the beauty of the missiles
falling from the sky,
the illumination as it bursts
and settles soft
on the people, dead and dying
howeverbrief: (Winter)
I should post about Thanksgiving (which I still might do), but work has been really draining lately (for reasons I don't feel like rehashing right now). This is what I'm choosing to post about instead.

I dreamed last night that I was at a birthday party for tabular-rasa. I didn't know which room to go to in her very large house, and as I walked into a large room, a few servants closed the doors behind me. I rushed back to the doors when I figured out this wasn't the room where the party was, but they told me they couldn't let me out because of the special guest.

I went to the bar to order a drink and wait to be let out. As I was sitting there, Donald Trump sidled up to the bar, sat next to me and started talking to me. I thought, "Well, I'm attractive enough for him to talk to me but not for him to touch me," and I felt weirdly flattered and disgusted at the same time. I got out of there as quickly as I could.

I finally found the room where the party was, and my mom was there too. Amy was opening presents, and I grabbed one and opened it. I turned back to her and said, "I don't know why I did that. Sorry." I handed the gift to her, which was a large plastic light saber. She took a look at it and noticed that when I opened the present, I broke a connecting wire on the light saber. She started explaining that the connecting wire I broke was used to hook up the light saber to her phone and now it was broken and... In my shame, I didn't want to hear the rest of it. I cut her off and said I was going home with my mom.

We tried to leave through a nearby sliding glass door, but once we were on the deck, I found that half the stairs leading down were gone. We were forced to go back inside, where more of Amy's family/spillover guests from Trump's party were gathering. I tried to get Amy's attention so we could leave another way, but she was pissed at me still and distracted by everyone.

Then my stupid alarm went off.

This is the second time I've dreamed about Trump since the day of the election. At least he didn't chase me this time (but I did win the presidency in that one, so it's a wash).
howeverbrief: (Skull)
It is extremely strange to think it has been 15 years since the world trade center attacks. In some ways, it feels like it was just yesterday.

I remember waking up annoyed around 6:00 in the morning because some idiots were running around in the hallway yelling about something. I chalked that up to dorm living and went back to sleep until it was time to get up for my first class of the morning, which was at 9:00 or 10:00. By the time I was headed to class, the large TV in the lounge area downstairs was playing what I thought was a movie: the first tower on fire; another plane flying into the second. Weird thing to be playing that early in the morning. If I recall right, the person behind the desk was gasping.

I walked to class, Spanish 101, and when I got in, my classmates were talking about upwards of 15 downed planes and about how there were snipers on the roof of the White House. Again, it sounded like a movie. Stuff like that doesn't happen in real life, only in the imaginations of Hollywood shills trying to make the next blockbuster.

Then my teacher, a tiny lady from Mexico who I always remember as being strict but impeccably dressed, came in, visibly shaken. She told us of the attacks; told us to take care of each other; told us there would be no classes today; told us to go home.

I called my mother, who was in a hotel with my father because their anniversary was the day before. I wanted to know she was okay and to hear a friendly voice. Mostly what I remember is her being annoyed with me for calling and saying of course it would all be okay.


But so much has happened in fifteen years. Airport security protocol changes. Bombings. Terrorist groups scattered and re-surged. Mass shootings. Wars. The rise of racist rhetoric. Political division and unrest. The fact that most of these words are plural and each can be written about extensively. I can go into detail about what I remember from a day fifteen years ago, but to sum up everything that has happened since and all of the consequences thereof is infinitely mind-boggling. So much happened and so little remains in my memory of it all that it feels like the butt of time's great practical joke.

My experience is not unique. I did not suffer personally that day, as many did, nor will I claim any great insight from it all. A lot of it still reads as a senseless tragedy, and years worth of reflection and distance has not changed that, only added nuance to the struggle to understand why events like this happen and how we fail to prevent them. All those people dead in a single act, set into motion over the course of years and executed near perfectly by those determined to make themselves heard. Their voices are still reverberating in our bones.

I am only an observer, and a passive one at that. I wonder what it takes to evoke change in this very volatile world, but I am very different from the person who heard of the attacks fifteen years ago and immediately began trying to make sense of it, certain that there would be a way to make sense of it in the coming days. My concerns have shifted in ways I wouldn't have known about then, and I am the only one to blame for my complacency, my cynicism, my helplessness over what happened and what could be done about it. I suppose in the end it is hard to know for sure, as powers greater than the individual are always at play. It is hard to say, but it is much harder to feel like I should have something better to say after all this time. No, the years have gone by in almost a blur, but the uncertainty of those first few hours remains static and undiminished.

A lot happens in fifteen years. Still, in a lot of ways, I am stuck in a single day.


Nov. 13th, 2015 11:15 pm
howeverbrief: (Winter)
I had an entry in my head all day. I was writing it pretty much from the moment I woke up with a song stuck in my head. That all seems pretty petty compared to what happened in Paris, though. Over a hundred people dead? Really? What does that accomplish? Unbelievable. Well, given the current political climate, not entirely unbelievable unfortunately. I have no words.

A coworker told me this, though (and yes, I'm paraphrasing, but not by much):
"These immigrants. I'm not a racist. You know, I wasn't raised like that. Every man's my brother. Every woman's my sister. But I don't trust those burka people. You know, they need to be taken care of, and I don't mean in the three meals a day way, you know?"

Good God. You're not helping.


Nov. 5th, 2014 10:04 pm
howeverbrief: (Skull)
Midterm elections. UGH! So depressing.
howeverbrief: (Smile)
Jeezy creezy, how long has it been? Well, I looked at the grease burn on my hand yesterday and remembered I got it last week, and even that feels like it happened so long ago that I could barely believe it.

I guess I should back up.

Last Thursday, Nevada's governor held a press conference that basically said that Tesla (the big fancy electric car company) had finally chosen our state for their huge gigafactory after months of dicking us, California, New Mexico, and Texas around. This has the potential to be great news, as it would be a huge economic boom for Nevada in terms of jobs and investments. However, in order to broker this deal, the Governor had to get the legislature to approve it.

Ah ha, there's the catch. The governor had to call a special session to do that.

I spent most of Friday worried that I wouldn't be able to go on the weekend trip that Mike had planned for our anniversary, which was Sunday. We were lucky, though. Work told us Friday afternoon that we would have to come in on Sunday at noon to prepare for special session, which gave me and Mike time to stay at the beautiful condo Mike rented for two nights. We ended up barbecuing, using their jacuzzi, running around Tahoe a bit and generally enjoying what time we had. The only real downside to the trip was the aforementioned grease burns on my hand and foot, which happened when Mike was frying bacon next to me for breakfast, but given the rest of the trip and all he did while I was neck deep in work (cooking, grocery shopping, and laundry!), I can't really hold it against him. He's really very sweet. Hopefully the scrapbook I made (which arrived after our anniversary, so he got to open it while I was working late one night) was an acceptable consolation prize. He did get year-old frozen cake out of the deal too. Haha.

Work from Sunday at noon on was insane. I think I worked more hours of overtime from Monday to Thursday than I did regular hours; and we had more than our fair share of hiccups because certain parts of our program hadn't been tested completely for the random out-of-nowhere session; but we made it through somehow. Hell, considering we had less than half of the staff we usually have during a regular session (because of temporary positions, people on vacation, and a sudden death in the family of one of our managers), I think we did pretty well. The legislature passed their four bills, and now it's up to Tesla to follow through. We'll see what happens.

What's more important for me is session ended Thursday around 10:00 at night, so now maybe we can get back to the projects we were working on before. My boss was kind enough to get Friday off for our unit, which was probably pretty wise because we wouldn't have been very productive after all that. I've still managed to overdo it this weekend with the projects (and the fitbit), but it's still been nice to have the time off to kind of pick up where I left off on personal things as well as continue to organize parts of the house which aren't so efficient right now. We also bought more furniture, but I think we're nearing the end of our upgrades in that department. Neverending tasks, you know.

Anyway, life is pretty positive at the moment. I'm running short of motivation at the moment, but hopefully we can keep this momentum going.
howeverbrief: (Ink)
Now for something different, though topical.

If you haven't heard by now from numerous news outlets, Fred Phelps, Sr., founder of the Westboro Baptist Church has died. (Oh yes, they of the "God hates fags" picketing fame.) One of his estranged sons reported that he was near death a few days ago, and since then, certain news about him has trickled out.

What's interesting, however, is the own church's media response to his death. Most notable to me is the last paragraph of their statement:

God forbid, if every little soul at the Westboro Baptist Church were to die at this instant, or to turn from serving the true and living God, it would not change one thing about the judgments of God that await this deeply corrupted nation and world. That is the pinnacle of your hopes, and by far the most vain. Ye do err, not knowing the scriptures, or the power of God.

If this is true, then they can feel free to stay silent for the rest of their days, but I digress a little. Let me back up.

What I found telling is the news that within the last few years, Fred Phelps, Sr. had been excommunicated from his own church by a board of directors that had among its members three of his own sons. In fact, most of the Westboro congregation is made of his own family (with thirteen children, I suppose this is understandable), and the family who have left the church were mostly estranged from him. Still, he persisted in his faith-based railing against the supposed evils of the modern world until he was ejected from his post by his own family, all the while being despised by other members of his family for starting the church in the first place. Here's a man who was moved from the church he worked so hard to build to a house away from the church to live out his dying days mostly hated by those around him, it seems.

And why? Why did this man, who led this church since the 1950s, become so hated by his own members? Because after the church bounced their longtime spokeswoman, who not only spoke for the church but also defended it in their high-profile cases involving their right to picket military funerals because it constituted free speech, Phelps called for the members of his church to be kinder to each other. After all that picketing, Fred Phelps, Sr. wanted more kindness! This was apparently too much for the board to bear.

It's hard to imagine this man was once was a prominent civil rights attorney. It's even harder to think that this man, who advocated the picketing of basically anything to stay in the public eye no matter how much it incensed other people in order to espouse his very hateful message under the guise of religious superiority, could be ousted by his own flesh and blood for saying they should be kinder to each other.

I don't know how the man died because I wasn't there, if he suffered, if he had any idea of the damage he had done to other people or if he understood even a little of what it felt like to stand on the other side of the hate his family spreads, and given that all my facts have come from the media, it's difficult to really understand what happened or where he came from.

Still, in a very sad way, with all the turmoil over the course of his life, Fred Phelps, Sr.'s lonely death seems almost fitting.

EDIT: And if you're all, TLDR, here's a comic that sums it up pretty nicely.
howeverbrief: (Temp)
Well, I'm scheduled to get my wisdom teeth out on Halloween. Apparently lots of other people didn't want to schedule it then, though the Friday after was entirely full for some reason. Whatever, I don't care. I was planning on taking a few days off to recover anyway, and a long weekend should be enough time, especially since I only have the upper two teeth. (The dentist says many people have said they don't notice their upper teeth have been taken out compared to the pain of getting their lower teeth out. I'm just lucky I only have those teeth, I guess.) I probably won't be fully knocked out. The dentist said I seemed fairly laid back, and I'd probably be fine under an intravenous drip, which is cheaper anyway. Fine by me. I felt pretty weird about getting completely knocked out anyway. I just need to get the suckers out, Halloween candy notwithstanding.

What's more disturbing is he said I have some bone wasting, which is bad because bone regeneration drops off after age 25, and I could potentially have a cavity depending on how the wisdom teeth are growing in. Also, the way they are growing is pushing on my back molars, and depending on what happens with the bone wasting, it's possible I could lose those too. (He didn't think this was very likely, just something that could happen.) Oh yay...

Ah, I guess I should just be happy to get them out. The dentist was funny about it (when he came in, he said, "Oh, just another teenager with wisdom teeth, huh?"), but I'm still not looking forward to it. It was also interesting to hear him rant about the Affordable Care Act, but I digress.

On a different note, Mike has a few interviews in Reno tomorrow, and on Wednesday, he's driving to Livermore for an early interview on Thursday with a food brokerage company, which is what he's leaning towards doing if they are interested in hiring him. It would be a lower paying but much less stressful version of what he was doing before, and given that both of us would be working, I'd be totally fine with that, especially if it means he's not as stressed and gets to spend more time at home too. Got to try not to get too far ahead of ourselves, but hopefully something breaks soon. We'll see what happens. Meanwhile, it will be odd to have the house to myself for a night. Hmm.

We also saw my brother do an improv show on Saturday and hung out with him a little after. It was nice to see him outside the confines of the craziness of the last few months. We're all going to do a zombie-themed 5K run next Saturday, so that should be fun too. We're walking because my ankles are totally stupid and Mike doesn't really run much anymore. My brother is just playing along. In earlier years, we would have been going to the Zombie pub crawl, which is what spawned this run, but since I don't really drink much anymore, a fun run sounded better than fighting a crowd for drink specials. I don't know. Maybe I'm old and boring now.

It's kind of nice to not be consumed with trying to figure out marriage-related stuff (though I still have several name change problems and insurance and blah). I don't want to go into that right now.

I guess that's all for tonight.
howeverbrief: (Skull)
Hey, we finagled some pictures out of the photographer (that is to say, she was nice enough to put some up for us even though she's said it's going to take two to three months to sort through and edit our pictures); so maybe we can get our thank you cards out soon. I'm pretty excited about that, probably because once that's done, I can stop thinking about how ungrateful we are... haha.

Not really, but you know. Also when we have all the pictures, I'll post a link so you can see. What I've seen so far has been pretty nice. :)

Did I mention that during the last few months, my wisdom teeth have been growing in?Complain. )

And yes, I'm still irritated about the government shutdown. I just don't have any specific rant about it today.

Also, Mike has been really good about cooking dinner lately even while he's out of work. He's a sweetheart and can be too hard on himself when trying to find a job during the day. I'm pretty sure he's doing everything he can. I just hope something breaks soon for his sake.

Lastly, I had a dream a few nights ago that I was in a library. I got bored in the adult library, so when I found a tiny stairwell, I tried to go down it. It got too tight to continue walking down, so I ended up having to jump to the lower level, which was a children's library. They told me I could become a member and started making my ID with a popsicle mold, a piece of cake or rice crispy treat, a banana, and some other things to give it a face that you wouldn't be able to see until it was unmolded. I didn't get to see it unmolded because I woke up.

I, uh, I have no idea either.
howeverbrief: (Ink)
Hmm... A few things--

1. I'm no scientist. You all know that. Still, this is getting on my nerves a bit. About a year ago, when it was snowing a lot all over the country, a fair number of people I'm friends with on facebook posted about how all the cold temperatures and inclement weather somehow disproved global warming. Now that we're facing one of the oddest and warmest winters we've had in quite a while (seriously, I shouldn't be able to walk outside in just a sweatshirt this time of year), I don't see anyone talking about it beyond, "What warm weather we're having." Yeah, because extreme temperature shifts from year to year don't point to something being massively wrong with our ecosystem. Of course not!

2. My house smells like coffee. Why did I buy coffee when I don't drink it or have a coffee maker? I have secrets!

3. I'm looking forward to Mike's visit on Wednesday through President's day, but I'm also very nervous about it. Mike my out-of-state friend, not Mike my brother. Who's Mike? Am I ever going to explain how we met or why he's coming here? Uh... There aren't a whole lot of ways I can tell that story without coming off as a weird creep, so I don't know. (EDIT: Well, to be fair, why he's coming is pretty cute, so I might make an attempt later on. ;) I'm still pretty awesome, though. It's all fine.

I thought I had more, but I've run out of things to say. That's okay. Three is a magic number, you know. At least, School House Rock seemed to think so.

Anyway, my relative muteness might be from my cleaning bonanza yesterday, which left me tired, sore and devoid of motivation this morning. Woo hoo. I still managed to finish cleaning and go grocery shopping today, though, so that's a plus. Still, I think I'm going to go sit around and watch TV until it's time to make dinner. I've done enough this weekend. Time to lazy it up before I have to go back to work tomorrow. What are Sundays for anyway?
howeverbrief: (Smile)
Every once in a while, I am struck by how much useless information I have stuck in my head. I could have any number of historical dates, philosophical ideas, legal analyses, people's names or other such important facts stored away, but no, not me. Somehow it's better to remember that ripe bananas glow blue under ultraviolet light. Or that your nose never stops growing. The definition for population in the Nevada lawbook is at NRS 0.050, and the Federal Statute concerning child support arrearage is 42 U.S.C. Section 666. Cats saliva smells sweet so when they lick themselves, predators are thrown off their scent. And sites like "shake that bear", goatse, and Buck Angel Entertainment exist.

Yeah, if you don't already know what those are, don't look them up unless you absolutely want to have more disturbing images burned into your brain forever. Save yourselves.

Why does my brain hold onto stupid trivia and let go of stuff I really need to remember? I have no idea, but it makes me kind of nervous when I think about getting older. They say as you age, your long term memory stays fairly intact while your short term memory diminishes, which means you can remember the way your favorite blanket smelled as a small child but not the phone number your doctor gave you five minutes ago. It's a natural part of getting older, but I get especially anxious because I look at my mother's mother and wonder just how much I'll inherit from that side of the family, considering my grandmother currently spends a lot of time fighting with her caretakers about medicine and claims they steal her clothes and replace them with nicer things. My favorite of these stories is when she told my mother that the cleaning lady must have taken her watch because her watch had much less diamonds on it. I am mystified as to how this works, but it's a neat trick. Someone can come replace my junk with more expensive stuff any day.

Really, it ought to be interesting to see how my generation ages. With all these news stories I've read about how entitled Millennials are and how we have too much self esteem from watching Mr. Rogers and expect too much from our work and lives and want to hold onto our dreams even if they are completely unrealistic, we'll make a strange bunch of old people, I think. Being raised mostly by baby boomers and under the watchful eye of Sesame Street and 8-bit, it isn't all that surprising that things turned out this way, though I wonder what kind of politics will get our collective blood boiling thirty years from now. I'm curious to see what kind of issues the kids will drum up that we'll dig in our heels about. What will be so morally reprehensible to us that we'll take to the streets and cry about how wrong it is while looking completely illogical and unreasonable to the next generation? What movement will we look at and say, "Well, this is totally not like our day. Then, we had real reasons to protest, not like you whiny young people who want everything handed to you."

No matter where you start, everyone becomes part of the problem at one point or another.

There we'll be in the nursing home, our tattooed arms wrinkled and our ears stretched to hell from gauges long abandoned, our conservative children flitting in and out with exasperated sighs and smoothing out their suits. Well, that is if we even get to go to the nursing home, considering how many of us are in debt and how few are saving for retirement or even giving it a second thought. Perhaps we'll be a generation that spends the longest time working, to the point where employers eventually have to kick us out of our respective positions because the insurance premiums are simply too much to bear rather than us being too old and beloved to work anymore. It's hard to say how it will go, when and if this economy will turn around or if there will be enough jobs that will allow us to quit our nomadic ways of changing jobs every five seconds looking for the next best thing.

I just hope if I go senile, I go the fun kind of senile. I'll be sitting in my room, half moony from drugs surrounded by other like-minded feeble people. Then Rick Astley will pop up on the oldies station they play for us every afternoon in the hopes that we'll snap out of our reveries and come back to consciousness for long enough to recognize our loved ones, and I'll laugh.

"Damn, Rick rolled again."


Oct. 8th, 2011 03:35 pm
howeverbrief: (Default)
(I wrote this a few weeks back but didn't share it here because I promptly forgot about it. Though it's short, it sums up something I've been mulling over recently. Otherwise, I am several entries behind and don't know if or when I'll catch up. There's a lot happening and nothing all at once. It's okay, though. Well, it is what it is.)

We all get to take turns being the people we hate most. Some of us just inhabit the roles for longer stretches of time. The divisiveness in this country strikes me as ridiculous and unproductive, a bunch of children fighting over who knows best while the rest starve. No one wants to compromise because that means admitting weakness and imperfection. Can't give an inch because then it looks like you don't believe in your own cause strongly enough to appease your fringe groups. God forbid we start trying to do what's best for everyone even if it means both sides lose something in the process.

I say these things, but I feel more and more ambivalent lately, which my teenaged self would be appalled by. Then again, she was appalled by pretty much everything, which is fairly unrealistic when you're trying to get along in the world. You've got to pick your battles, but somehow that ends up feeling unsatisfying as well, especially when you're aware of the choices you make even if you have to make them one way or the other. I don't keep up nearly as well as I should because it depresses me on top of the other crap I have going on. I can only do so much, and that always falls short somehow. I don't know what the happy medium is.
howeverbrief: (Default)
A friend of mine on facebook posted this article: Trial by Fire: Did Texas execute an innocent man?

Really harsh read, but worth it, I think.

I don't get very political anymore for many different reasons, but cases like these are some of the biggest reasons I don't support the death penalty. There is absolutely no room for error when it comes to putting someone to death, and unfortunately, our legal system is very flawed because it is run by imperfect people who rely on intuition and whatever evidence they can collect to build stories that may not even come close to what really happened. Science and experience comes into play, and there is a lot that can come from relying on past histories and strong tendencies to get caught up in our own egos and gut feelings, but there still isn't a way to ultimately fact check cases where it's one person's word against another person's interpretation, no matter how sophisticated technology gets.

Does this mean there is no justice? I don't think so. Many cases are solved to the best of the criminal system's ability, and the legal system can produce very significant and satisfying results when it comes to meting out punishment. Still, I also don't think there is any way of knowing whether we've gotten it right 100% of the time. Mistakes are made, even by good people who are doing their jobs impeccably, and innocent people often end up victims of a system that is supposed to protect us and society as a whole. Bad things happen, and this is the price we pay for relying too heavily on "tried and true" methods that just might not turn out to be so trustworthy in the long run.

Enough of my hot air, though. I just think it's really sad.
howeverbrief: (Default)
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It was my first semester at UNR, and I lived on the seventh floor of the "New Hall" dorm on campus (now called Argenta Hall). I was eighteen years old, a freshman just embarking on my degree. I remember people running through the hallway yelling early in the morning. I attributed this to fellow dorm-dwellers being jerks and wouldn't realize until later what the significance was. I was more annoyed because I had a 10:00 class and didn't really appreciate being woken up at five or six in the morning. I did my best to go back to sleep then gave up when my alarm went off. I showered and got ready for my Spanish class.

As I passed by the front desk downstairs, the desk-person seemed transfixed by the television. I glanced at it and saw buildings on fire and a plane flying into a building. I thought it was a little strange that there was a movie on so early in the morning but continued on my way.

Once I got to class, ten or fifteen minutes early as usual, I took my usual seat and waited for others to trickle in and class to start. Then as now, I tended to listen rather than strike up conversation with people around me, though I noticed the mood was rather subdued and something seemed off. Some classmates mumbled about how five or eight planes were down and there were snipers on the White House roof and the pentagon. I didn't understand.

My teacher, a short and slim Mexican woman, came in a few minutes late. Her usually stern demeanor seemed shaken by fear, and she appeared barely able to stand in front of the class much less tell us a brief version of what happened and that class was cancelled. It hit me this was no movie.

As I walked back to the dorms, I fought tears as I called my parents, who were staying in a hotel because it was their anniversary the night before. At that point, I had only been away from home a little over a month, and I had never felt so far away from my family as I did at that moment. My mom seemed annoyed that everyone was making a big deal about something no one could do anything about, but I still had to hear her voice and make sure things were okay. Before then, I could never really remember when their anniversary was, but I haven't forgotten since.

I don't recall what I did the rest of that day. Really, the week after that seems to blend in my mind-- hearing about airport closures, watching the repeated footage on TV, trying to figure out who did this and why and how the government was going to handle it, cutting out a flag from the newspaper and taping it up on the wall (then getting mad at the ridiculous hysteria of mass-patriotism and nationalism that gripped the country), returning to class and how each professor tried to find a way to address it, writing poetry, reading endless amounts of articles, wondering if it was okay to laugh and what to do when so many people were dead and/or hurt.

As with everything else, a lot has happened and changed in the last ten years, but that's what I experienced that day. I find myself not really wanting to ruminate further on this subject for some reason, probably because I don't want to feel more sad about it than is warranted given where I was, so this is where I will leave you. Highest regards for those still fighting in the multiple wars started since then, and deepest sympathies for those who have suffered.

Of course I remember. How could I forget?
howeverbrief: (Default)
Geez, what a weekend. I'm just now starting to feel alive again after waking up with a soul-crushing hangover. It's not that I drank a lot. It was drinking white then red wine, having a small nip of bourbon, and nursing half a beer over the course of having dinner/messing around with my family in Smith. I always forget the terrible effects of mixing alcohol until the morning after. You'd think I'd have learned my lesson by now. Also, we went swimming then hung out in the hot tub. I crashed around 1:30 while the rest of the crew went to bed at either 3:30 or 4:00 this morning. Oh, and I woke up at 7:00 anyway and gave up on sleeping around 9:00, which gave me time to walk down the road a bit and probably dehydrate myself even more. I'm not used to this at all anymore. My tolerance is really quite pathetic, but I don't really see that as a bad thing.

What spurred all this is my older sister Katie coming to town with her girlfriend (also Katie), which hasn't happened since around Christmas. We were having trouble figuring out when the last time the whole family was in Smith last, considering the Katies live in San Fransisco and it's getting harder and harder to get four siblings to come together at the same time. Kind of odd. My mom tore cartilage in her knee earlier in the week but somehow managed to make a fantastic spaghetti dinner for everyone anyway. We took the family Christmas picture (hopefully). I talked politics with my dad a bit (which is always annoying, especially when he starts talking about how he kind of agrees with the tea party, ugh), but I just left it alone for the most part. There's too much I know about Nevada politics behind the scenes that I can't talk about to be of much use in political conversations anyway. It was nice that no one fought with each other, though, even if it's still strange that my parents live in separate houses. Also, I really need to get more of my junk off their hands soon since I have more of a permanent place to live now. Hmm.

I'm still not sure what's going on with my vacation later this month. I have the week around my birthday blocked off, and I originally wanted to visit San Fransisco (as long as certain people who also live in that area don't find out about it). I'm currently going back and forth about it, but I need to figure it out soon if I'm going. I'm on the fence because the pastry company Katie works for is opening their storefront that week, and my Aunt Moya has to work most of the days I want to go. Plus, I'm not sure how long I can leave my cats alone, since I don't know anyone who would be willing to look in on them who doesn't live 40 minutes away. Last night was the first night I've been away since I moved here, but they seemed to do alright aside from a hairball on the floor. Oh well. I'll figure it out. There's always Lake Tahoe, I suppose.

Anyway, I guess I haven't really been very good about keeping this up to date about things going on in my life lately. A lot of the time, it feels pretty unimportant and routine, though certain stories still pop into my head and are waiting to be told. It remains to be seen if I'll get to those or not. If you're curious about anything in particular, you can always leave a comment and ask. Otherwise, I'll just have to organize myself and hope for the best. Anyway, I hope you're all doing well, as always. <3


Jun. 29th, 2011 07:29 pm
howeverbrief: (Default)
Conversation I had with myself about dinner last night-- "Swiss cheese, colby-jack cheese, hot dogs, and cheese. Perfect." I may or may not have been living alone for too long already. Haha.

Setting Marriage Straight: An article about how gay marriage approval benefits straight women too. Makes a lot of sense when you think about it.

I'm very close to finishing the capelette I started knitting forever ago. It will be the biggest project I've ever completed, and I'm pretty excited about it, even if I did make some pretty amateur mistakes on it. No one's going to know!

Mm. Falafel. Let's see how long this temporary stretch of vegetarianism lasts. I think my record still stands at three days. Eh, maybe I'll make a ham sandwich for lunch tomorrow. Omnivore to the end! I like meat too damn much! Oh well.

Oh, lastly, I had a specific reason for writing this entry (it's not public, sorry. Basic gist: Life is hard but worth it sometimes), other than working 40-hour weeks like a normal person, getting to spend more time at home, and not being quite so tired. That day, the boss of our unit came into my office and asked me to stay on at my job full-time. I didn't even need to think about it. I said yes. I signed the paperwork today. :)


Jun. 24th, 2011 07:41 pm
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Yay, New York!

Enough said.


May. 26th, 2011 09:34 pm
howeverbrief: (Skull)
It's been a long time since 4:30. I may or may not be too tired to sleep. The jury is still out on that one. 5:30 a.m. to 7:00 p.m. is a perfectly cromulent shift, right? The shortest day I've had is 10.5 hours since Sunday, gotten up to 14 already, and it's only going to get worse until the sixth. Worse, it might not even end after that! Ugh.

Why? Because of stuff like this: Clean Water Coalition v. The M Resort

If you don't want to read all that, here's the intro (which pretty much explains what's important anyway, emphasis is mine)--Read more... )


I'm not going to argue this one way or another (partially because I shouldn't given what I do and partially because I'm too tired to expend that kind of brainpower), but it sure isn't going to make things any easier.

EDIT: Oh, and as the sun was going down and I was filing my receipts upstairs, I heard some yelling in the street. I watched a big group of kids meet up, shouting, "Oh my god!" at each other. They couldn't have been older than early teens, as one of the boys was wearing a baseball uniform and riding a bike. I watched as they mostly dispersed until only the boy on the bike and a girl in a white hoodie were left. They talked then leaned in to each other and awkwardly kissed. It didn't last more than a second, and they left soon after that.

I'm pretty sure I just witnessed someone's first kiss. Hmm.
howeverbrief: (Smile)
Yes, this gets its own post. My brother texted me to watch his channel because of the breaking news. I didn't really believe it (even though he works for the media) until I went to my home page and saw it was breaking there too, so I watched until the president confirmed. I guess I just really wanted to hear him say it, even if it was in the vaguest terms possible.

Sent my mom this text: "Wow"
What she sent back: "Amazing news finally. Got the focus off the big wedding."
Hahaha, I love my mom.

I don't know how much this changes things, if at all; and there's already a lot of talk about this being the eight-year anniversary of that "Mission Accomplished" debacle; but it's still pretty amazing. <3
howeverbrief: (Default)
I'm unpacking things again, mostly because a few people are in my thoughts and it hurts but I can't do anything about it. I think I'm going to need about 50 billion more bookcases at this rate.

But hey, I found one of the two anthologies where I'm published. It's ten years old now. Good lord. (Edit: Oh, here's the other one. I'll post it tomorrow.)

Anyway, from Spirits- A High School Poetry Anthology of the American Southwest: 2001, page 88:

"Without Scars"

What is this fight for
Do we even know
As we shout "Death to government!"
And plan to make it so

Do we have a notion
Of the cause we all share
Breaking beauty in its pod
And saying we have a cross to bear

Is it possible we're all lost
While our hope always melts
That we're all missing something
Yet won't admit it; blame someone else

Where are we going with this
Why is there such passion here
Where has the pleasure/pain gone
Why does everyone walk in fear

Are we reaching out
To someone who really cares
No we're anarchists "Death to God!"
But that would be assuming he still lives

We may live in sin
Yeah, not one of is us unmarred
But we can't be sucked into darkness
Life isn't without scars


howeverbrief: (Default)

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