User: smartycat Date: 2009-12-24 22:06 Subject: 2009 Year in Review Meme Security: Public

Nabbed from crystaltear and coley_merrin. I'd nothing better to do once family time ended.

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User: smartycat Date: 2009-12-21 22:28 Subject: Reminiscing of Christmas Wizards Security: Public

Last year, I took my two most favorite people in all the world to see Trans-Siberian Orchestra as their Christmas presents. (Why yes, I am generous in my affection; I'm just not generous with it.) It was a great show and a great night... if one disregards how I had to grovel and whine to get Manon to drive, we failed to acquire Dyer's Burgers and almost starved, got caught in downpours twice, sat a bit too close to some of the pyrotechnics for my comfort, ended up driving through the airport, and then almost continued to starve because the early AM Steak 'n Shake cook decided to be a diva. I have fond memories of it all still, although the desire to get the full experience down in text is pretty much non-existent at this point. But! At one point I started, and I don't want to just throw that away in my cleaning-up-the-hard-drive-spree. So here are some quotes from that night.

Amanda: Where's Manon?
Me: I dunno.
::we turn and stare in unison to see Manon sprinting down Beale in flip flops in the rain::
Amanda: There he is!
Me: Huh.
[Let me note that after he made it safely under an overhang, he proceeded to whip out a comb and smooth his hair back into perfection. It was the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.]

Amanda and Me: ::in unison as artificial snow started to fall in the Forum during one of the songs:: SNOOOOOW! EEEEEEEEEEEE HEE HEE!

Me: I want to hug everyone!

Me: Wha~t?! Random child?! [There was a kid who got to go up on stage with the band and get a presumably signed guitar. Insert seething envy here.]
Amanda: Random child. He better be from St. Jude! Or the bus driver's son!

Me: Here, hold this while I wring out my hair.

My personal greatest shining moment (in my mind anyway) probably came at the end of the evening when I was about to collapse from want of sleep and thought Manon was trying to start a WWE-style smackdown, but that's a story for another day. Maybe.

User: smartycat Date: 2009-12-14 22:41 Subject: Bleeding out like watercolors Security: Public

I haven't done a proper ramble in awhile so let's just see how this goes. Everything that I might want to say is probably not everything that might need to be said. I don't want to hurt too many feelings after all.

I will say that maybe if you think I've been acting out of character, you haven't paid all that much attention to my character in the first place. I am not your conception of me. If I was, I'd be way too many things to way too many people. So few people actually try to know me, and even those that try don't seem to succeed.

Or maybe I really am losing who I am. I don't know. I don't regret... or at least I don't regret what I've been told I should. Some of the specifics though and some of the other stuff, yeah, I might.

Right now, however, I'm hurting because the painkiller ban is still on, and I suspect I might be willing to make quite a few concessions I ordinarily wouldn't by the time Thursday morning rolls around.

I want to buy things. It's a coping mechanisms; I know it is. I will try to fill the emptiness within me or loosen up the stress tangle with material goods. The Christmas sales aren't helping. They tempt me, and I lack willpower under the best situations. I should probably wait to buy things though. Make sure I survive the anesthesia and all.

And I kid, and I kid, but I don't.

The world better be glad I'm not a singer/songwriter. If I was, I'd keep a diary and dump its content into each and every song. Except maybe the ridiculous ones. Because there would be ridiculous songs... some of which could probably pretty easily come from the pages of my non-existent diary. How is it that some people can think I'm hilarious and charming and others think I'm completely devoid of anything resembling a sense of humor or even a personality? Is my behavior really that erratic? Why don't you people call me on it?

Will I always cry when I listen to Snow Patrol? Seems pretty likely at this point. And, oh, the Christmas music got me too. Blast you, Gregorian chanters! I shake my fist in tearful anger!

I hate it when I have hours I can't account for. I also totally could work a pole back in high school. I'm fairly sure those things aren't related.

Sometimes I have the urge to scream into the night that I'm not happy. It isn't strictly true, of course. I'm not unhappy all the time. I'm not even unhappy most of the time. I am, however, restless and dissatisfied and a bit taken with wanderlust I don't have the funds to appease.

I remember days of painting. Music, sometimes complementing, sometimes giving shape to what flowed from the brush. Hair still golden, swept up sloppily and escaping its constraints to cling in sweaty ringlets to cheeks and neck. (You think I'm blond now? This isn't blond; back in the day was blond.) Fingers and palms perpetually stained. Clothing spotted. Careless smears of color across cheeks, jawbone, and forehead.

It was total relaxation combined with absolute concentration. I remember the light and the color and the sound. I was perfectly present, perfectly absorbed by and encapsulated in the moment. Past was irrelevant, future but a promise as yet un-kept. I remember the feeling. I remember the peace and the fierce, singing joy. I just don't know how to recapture that. I knew exactly who and what I was then... or at least I thought I did... or the memory is golden enough to proceed straight on through orange and into rose-tinted idealism.

I am also amazed at how many memories involve peering through the haphazard waterfall of my hair. It's a wonder I can see at all.

I kind of love staring into brown eyes. Blue eyes, I like to watch, but I'm not so comfortable with them watching me back. It's unnerving in a way brown eyes aren't. I also know that makes no sense. I don't care. It's not necessarily shyness or embarrassment that makes my eyes dart away. Sometimes it's fear of captivation.

Finally, yogurt. Why is something as innocent as eating yogurt an experience of such sensory overload? It's not even particularly bad for me.

User: smartycat Date: 2009-12-12 20:05 Subject: Christmas Cards - Last Call! Security: Public

I hope to get these mailed out by Wednesday since I'll be going under the knife Thursday and don't know how long I'll be out of commission.


Here is the list of recipients as it stands now:

crystaltear
esotaria
liz_cando
nightambre
omnicat
paper_moonshine
reynardfox
wickedchild_md
yankeerose69

There are several people who I usually send cards to that aren't on there. Let me know present addresses please!

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