Ten Years Ago:
Favorite breakfast cereal:
Grapenuts, hot.
Favorite band:
The Smashing Pumpkins, perhaps a leftover of the teenage crush on Billy Corrigan.
I was:
19
How many tattoos did you have?
One, I describe my process here: http://bethydoll83.blogspot.com/2012/09/not-just-doll.html I had good intentions, but really? I thought like an 18 year old, because I was an 18 year old when it was done.
How many piercings did you have?
One in each lobe
What was your worst fear?
I never really thought of them much at the time.Failure, probably.
Ok, now, at 29
My favorite cereal is now GF Rice Krispies, I still love the Pumpkins, but only the original 5 albums, sort of like I only like Metallica pre haircut,. Only one tat, added in a cartilage piercing at 20---21? so it's 3 now. Failure, those things that terrorize in the dark and need the shadows to hide out in? Liars. Not facing my fear. So of course, it's probably best that I face it.
I blog gluten-free
Saturday, October 13, 2012
I, Awkward Robot
Human beings use numerous codes to speak to each other... because--- well, being blunt can be a bad thing on occasion. (I'll still forever lose my capability to censor, but pray like hell it comes out as intended.)
-What are you thinking? can be answered many ways, some depending on gender. I know one male friend who had to honestly tell me he was surprised at how one backside fit into tight latex pants. To be fair, so was I.
On the whole, it depends for me--- "My God, how is that shade of day-glo purple possible?" "Should I toss caution to the wind and dye mine pink?" (I decided on "no" for me, but I still am fascinated by the purple.) However, I am thinking silver and gold foils for the holidays, something new and fun, a little extra surprise. Because I intend to play.
Mostly though.... it's "Holy hell! It's loud! Too loud! Coffee! Too much!" I can have all the grace of a malfunctioning robot when everything is too loud. It's part of having a personality that internalizes rather that uses the outside to recharge itself.
So, if you ask me what I'm thinking or what's wrong, it's probably that, and the "nothing" is likely my last-ditch effort towards avoiding my awkward robot.
Buy it, use it, break it, fix it,
Trash it, change it, mail - upgrade it,
Charge it, point it, zoom it, press it,
Snap it, work it, quick - erase it,
Write it, cut it, paste it, save it,
Load it, check it, quick - rewrite it,
Plug it, play it, burn it, rip it,
Drag and drop it, zip - unzip it,
Lock it, fill it, call it, find it,
View it, code it, jam - unlock it,
Surf it, scroll it, pause it, click it,
Cross it, crack it, switch - update it,
Name it, rate it, tune it, print it,
Scan it, send it, fax - rename it,
Touch it, bring it, Pay it, watch it,
Turn it, leave it, start - format it.
Technologic
_Technologic, Daft Punk
(Reminds me of the series of orders given in a baby robot alien voice during PT... it was creepy then, and it is creepy now. And yet, here and there, I still know and remember the song, and the game, which taught me hand motions and speed.)
-What are you thinking? can be answered many ways, some depending on gender. I know one male friend who had to honestly tell me he was surprised at how one backside fit into tight latex pants. To be fair, so was I.
On the whole, it depends for me--- "My God, how is that shade of day-glo purple possible?" "Should I toss caution to the wind and dye mine pink?" (I decided on "no" for me, but I still am fascinated by the purple.) However, I am thinking silver and gold foils for the holidays, something new and fun, a little extra surprise. Because I intend to play.
Mostly though.... it's "Holy hell! It's loud! Too loud! Coffee! Too much!" I can have all the grace of a malfunctioning robot when everything is too loud. It's part of having a personality that internalizes rather that uses the outside to recharge itself.
So, if you ask me what I'm thinking or what's wrong, it's probably that, and the "nothing" is likely my last-ditch effort towards avoiding my awkward robot.
Buy it, use it, break it, fix it,
Trash it, change it, mail - upgrade it,
Charge it, point it, zoom it, press it,
Snap it, work it, quick - erase it,
Write it, cut it, paste it, save it,
Load it, check it, quick - rewrite it,
Plug it, play it, burn it, rip it,
Drag and drop it, zip - unzip it,
Lock it, fill it, call it, find it,
View it, code it, jam - unlock it,
Surf it, scroll it, pause it, click it,
Cross it, crack it, switch - update it,
Name it, rate it, tune it, print it,
Scan it, send it, fax - rename it,
Touch it, bring it, Pay it, watch it,
Turn it, leave it, start - format it.
Technologic
_Technologic, Daft Punk
(Reminds me of the series of orders given in a baby robot alien voice during PT... it was creepy then, and it is creepy now. And yet, here and there, I still know and remember the song, and the game, which taught me hand motions and speed.)
Friday, October 12, 2012
Jacket Test
Note: I am not a paid blogger. I bought my jacket the old fashioned way: putting down cold, hard cash at a sporting goods store.
It was time for an honest-to-goodness jacket that would keep me warm, as well as wear nicely for everything I need to be doing this fall and winter--- dodging cold rain and snow, sledding, hiking, walking, etc. I came across the Columbia Women's Whirlibird Interchange Jacket in black printed plaid--- more a dark bluish green watch check... (I like it, no complaints.) it's warm, in the mid autumn chill- bonus. My last was a mere wool blend with the "satin" lining. This one has the lining that recycles your heat back to you. As I am accused of being a little heater, this works miracles. Bit of a puffy arm situation going... I feel like I'm carrying a sheep under each arm. Not nearly as bad as Maggie Simpson's snowsuit (she looks like a baby starfish)... or like the younger brother in the Christmas Story (Played 24 hours a day on TNT until you are officially all Christmassed out and ready to risk having your mouth cleared out with Life Buoy.) who can't put his arms down... but the first test being the sweater test was probably NOT a good idea.
Will need a hat, hood isn't insulated. Nice and long, Columbia products have stood the test of time with me before, so I trust them whole heartedly.
I give it a 8/10.
It was time for an honest-to-goodness jacket that would keep me warm, as well as wear nicely for everything I need to be doing this fall and winter--- dodging cold rain and snow, sledding, hiking, walking, etc. I came across the Columbia Women's Whirlibird Interchange Jacket in black printed plaid--- more a dark bluish green watch check... (I like it, no complaints.) it's warm, in the mid autumn chill- bonus. My last was a mere wool blend with the "satin" lining. This one has the lining that recycles your heat back to you. As I am accused of being a little heater, this works miracles. Bit of a puffy arm situation going... I feel like I'm carrying a sheep under each arm. Not nearly as bad as Maggie Simpson's snowsuit (she looks like a baby starfish)... or like the younger brother in the Christmas Story (Played 24 hours a day on TNT until you are officially all Christmassed out and ready to risk having your mouth cleared out with Life Buoy.) who can't put his arms down... but the first test being the sweater test was probably NOT a good idea.
Will need a hat, hood isn't insulated. Nice and long, Columbia products have stood the test of time with me before, so I trust them whole heartedly.
I give it a 8/10.
Thursday, October 11, 2012
Down By the Water
More tests coming up... already a bit bruised and battered by last round... and they forgot what they were talking about 19 seconds before shuffling me out the door. Well, guess it's lucky I'm heading back in 2 months for another scintillating round. Gotta pull myself together... and using the passive voice won't work for me here... I am going to get that done... I will pull myself together and get what I need. I WILL be my own advocate. For now, I have a good jacket, and will be drycleaning the Black Poppy woolie and putting that aside for dressier occasions... so that if I'm feeling up to it, I can hike off the irritation. Now's NOT the time for Murphy's Law... for everything to be brittle and funky and everything to suddenly be in the "Well, we found inflammation... it's inconclusive, but..." state. Getting twitchy. But... I'm also prepping the fun stuff... trying out sweets while making appointments for another 8 vials to be drawn out, watching the leaves, having coffee down by the water when I can. I know that no matter how bad it gets, I am OK.
Why, my soul, are you downcast?
Why so disturbed within me?
Put your hope in God,
for I will yet praise him,
my Savior and my God._Psalm 6:11
In keeping with the theme, I had to be googling something on running down to the river, or something, because I was sent to a lyrics site to this song, which I couldn't resist and liked very much. All hail accidental eureekas.
Why, my soul, are you downcast?
Why so disturbed within me?
Put your hope in God,
for I will yet praise him,
my Savior and my God._Psalm 6:11
 |
| Down by the creek, to drink coffee & watch the leaves change |
In keeping with the theme, I had to be googling something on running down to the river, or something, because I was sent to a lyrics site to this song, which I couldn't resist and liked very much. All hail accidental eureekas.
Zombies
Hallowe'en is coming, and with that, a time to play with food. Since I like creepy--- (an Athena costume added in a realistic plastic spider to show Arachne, turned into a spider for daring to boast of her weaving exploits.) I thought I'd play with food. First, I came across this photo:
and thought--- oh, that better be red velvet. Since buttercream is stiff, all I have to do is pipe that out in zig-zags and voila! So, onto the test kitchen.
As for other things, still working on a sweet, fuzzy, Grover with hat treats. Pics and recipes to come.
The recipe I'll be tweaking is here: Spoonful Dot Com/ Brain Cupcakes
I can start with a gf yellow cake, add in a dash of cocoa powder and sugar to taste, and some red food coloring, (the lazy way). Let cool, then work in the dyed butter cream frosting, zig-zagged in.
and thought--- oh, that better be red velvet. Since buttercream is stiff, all I have to do is pipe that out in zig-zags and voila! So, onto the test kitchen.
As for other things, still working on a sweet, fuzzy, Grover with hat treats. Pics and recipes to come.
The recipe I'll be tweaking is here: Spoonful Dot Com/ Brain Cupcakes
I can start with a gf yellow cake, add in a dash of cocoa powder and sugar to taste, and some red food coloring, (the lazy way). Let cool, then work in the dyed butter cream frosting, zig-zagged in.
Wednesday, October 10, 2012
The Diving Bell and the Butterfly
So much can happen in the blink of an eye...
The Diving Bell and the Butterfly, in fact, was written in the blink of an eye---not the fast way that so often describes, but in a slow process, 2 hours a day. The author, Jean-Domininque Bauby, had been laid low by a brain-stem stroke that left him in a coma for 20 days and his wide-awake mind, brimming with life, in a body that couldn't move. The French alphabet "ESA..." was read off to him until he blinked to let the reader know which letter he was looking for, making words, sentences. In his mind, the letters danced for him at night.
He describes talking with the Empress Eugenie, days at the beach, snapshots of life, his speech therapies, he is bitingly sarcastic at times.
The book is thin, its yellow and orange cover has to pop out from among larger, more sedate black and hunter green tomes... only 129 pages, translated from the original French. He died 2 days after the French publication in 1996.
Bauby is an enigma people either love--- for himself, for his wit, for that French charm and humor, or detest, mainly because he was a flawed human. I like him for being human.
While he can't eat anymore, except by tube, he does enjoy being wheeled to the beach to smell french fries. And that is something beautiful to me. He describes everything in stark snapshots, livened up here and there with his butterflies. He gets sad, he gets dark... and yet, he dreams, he smells food, and he prays.
Somewhere along the way, he learns how gossip floats about him. While he gets sad, angry, he doesn't get defeated. Even being called a vegetable doesn't irritate him for too long: "I'll show you I'm smarter than a turnip!"
It's stark, a petite little volume of huge impacts.
Love him or hate him, Bauby will make you think.
The Diving Bell and the Butterfly, in fact, was written in the blink of an eye---not the fast way that so often describes, but in a slow process, 2 hours a day. The author, Jean-Domininque Bauby, had been laid low by a brain-stem stroke that left him in a coma for 20 days and his wide-awake mind, brimming with life, in a body that couldn't move. The French alphabet "ESA..." was read off to him until he blinked to let the reader know which letter he was looking for, making words, sentences. In his mind, the letters danced for him at night.
He describes talking with the Empress Eugenie, days at the beach, snapshots of life, his speech therapies, he is bitingly sarcastic at times.
The book is thin, its yellow and orange cover has to pop out from among larger, more sedate black and hunter green tomes... only 129 pages, translated from the original French. He died 2 days after the French publication in 1996.
Bauby is an enigma people either love--- for himself, for his wit, for that French charm and humor, or detest, mainly because he was a flawed human. I like him for being human.
While he can't eat anymore, except by tube, he does enjoy being wheeled to the beach to smell french fries. And that is something beautiful to me. He describes everything in stark snapshots, livened up here and there with his butterflies. He gets sad, he gets dark... and yet, he dreams, he smells food, and he prays.
Somewhere along the way, he learns how gossip floats about him. While he gets sad, angry, he doesn't get defeated. Even being called a vegetable doesn't irritate him for too long: "I'll show you I'm smarter than a turnip!"
It's stark, a petite little volume of huge impacts.
Love him or hate him, Bauby will make you think.
Cleaning the Slates
*I am intending that this be general, to an extent. I do have to make a retraction, but on the whole, I vent on a general level, and am not generally intending to hurt or malign any particular entity.
Among other things, I haven't got in me for anger or personal battles, which would sap the remaining energy out of me. Nor can I focus backwards... on everything that went wrong and what I'd do and say to fix it. I can say only this... here and there... I am introverted in some ways...medical tests, family drama, the world just being insane around me will make me need to withdraw temporarily. Nor do I have a will or drive to hurt another. The slate is being wiped clean...this is what I mean by going forward. I need to be somewhere else and to work on that. Someone else, close, was getting a barrage of shit... they got sick because of it; I got some, accidentally vented all of it without bullet points, confused some, accidentally caught myself reaping a whirlwind. I have to take responsibility. For this I am sorry. I cannot call as the phone used to do so is pretty much a brick.
As for whatever emotional crap, I checked that out on purpose... wanting an answer. The physical was and is influencing the emotional, as it can and will. That's for me to work on and learning on doing so without withdrawing completely is a good idea.
I am working on getting answers and solutions, and keeping up my will and drive. Other things will have to wait.
As for creepy old men and the Sudden I'm In-Betweeners? No. Just no. Not happening.
When I say I want to go forward, I mean to do so without taking that all with me.
And when I said, originally, I wanted time, it was time to recharge, as I do. Not to plot a mean trick. Simply that. I never intended to shove, or fly off handles or hurt. I never intended for the general to be taken personally.
Among other things, I haven't got in me for anger or personal battles, which would sap the remaining energy out of me. Nor can I focus backwards... on everything that went wrong and what I'd do and say to fix it. I can say only this... here and there... I am introverted in some ways...medical tests, family drama, the world just being insane around me will make me need to withdraw temporarily. Nor do I have a will or drive to hurt another. The slate is being wiped clean...this is what I mean by going forward. I need to be somewhere else and to work on that. Someone else, close, was getting a barrage of shit... they got sick because of it; I got some, accidentally vented all of it without bullet points, confused some, accidentally caught myself reaping a whirlwind. I have to take responsibility. For this I am sorry. I cannot call as the phone used to do so is pretty much a brick.
As for whatever emotional crap, I checked that out on purpose... wanting an answer. The physical was and is influencing the emotional, as it can and will. That's for me to work on and learning on doing so without withdrawing completely is a good idea.
I am working on getting answers and solutions, and keeping up my will and drive. Other things will have to wait.
As for creepy old men and the Sudden I'm In-Betweeners? No. Just no. Not happening.
When I say I want to go forward, I mean to do so without taking that all with me.
And when I said, originally, I wanted time, it was time to recharge, as I do. Not to plot a mean trick. Simply that. I never intended to shove, or fly off handles or hurt. I never intended for the general to be taken personally.
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