Thank You Blog Gods

NOT!

Yes, Nomy got her links section. No thanks to the powers that be here at blogspot.

That thank you goes to Pickpocket of The Nine Doors fame. Y'all really should read ol Pick. She writes some nice stuff. Or will, I guess. I know her from before she was infamous here on blogspot.

PHTT!

Madness

As the wine breathes, I walk around the house in only my blue pajama bottoms, after a too hot shower, and contemplate my night. It is still early and yet one of the last things said to me is the thing that sticks.

Normally, I would just ruminate on it by myself. But now I have this blog. Do I let seep out of me the things I think?

Madness. C mentioned madness tonight to me. How my madness has changed since last we spent any amount of time together. She thinks that I am stronger now. That I put down any insurrection that was brewing in my head when we were together.

God. It changes so much that it is hard to keep track of it and when I am better or worse. Because lately my head has been so loose.

The thing with D.I.D. is that there is never any semblance of continuity. Never. One day, you could fix all the problems of the world. You are invincible. You could have any girl. You are a stellar employee. The next, each day is a struggle to simply appear sane. You cannot recall any of the grand schemes and ideas of the day before and are lucky to do your job sufficiently.

The people who do not know can only gaze at you in wonder. Why are you so different today? Why don't you remember that only yesterday we met and talked for hours?

.... Madness is my nemesis. And yet, it is the thing that draws people to me. The thing that makes me stand out. The thing that makes me even remotely interesting.

----

Ahh, the Heat Miser. 

Heat Miser & Crystal

Heat Miser.

Your lovable little Nomy has been shopping for the dreaded Halloween party she is going to tonight. God, the things I'll do for a little lovin' from the layyydeeees. I disgust me. Really. I do.

Anyway. I'm going as Mr. Heat Miser. Remember him? From the Christmas cartoons with Mr. Frost? My friends, back in the day, all used to call me that because of my hair. And now that I have the style, sort of, again, I am actually going to embrace my inner Heat Miser.

Let me just go and find a link for that thar link bar. Phtt. Screw that. Lemme see if I can figure out how to put 'im right in the text.

[img]http://merryho-ho.8m.com/specials/heatmisr.jpg[/img]

Ok. It may not work. Bear with me. I'll figger it. Swear.

Anyway. So I got the hair color to add to the already miser-ish hair. Green pants. A red shirt and these wicked bad red boots! I think my orthotics might even fit inside. Hope so or I'll be whining all night.
---
Crystal.

Nope. Decided not to tell you. No bad reason. Just feel like I'm in high school.

Right. I'm dressing up for a Halloween party and telling you about this girl is making me feel like the bigger dork.

Sheesh. How do you all stand me?

HAR!

Chicago

So I bought a book tonight on Chicago. It looks really good and I think I'll use it a lot. It's called "NFT Not For Tourists guide to Chicago". Lots of neighborhood information. Like that.

So far, I like, used very loosely, several neighborhoods. Andersonville. Lakeview. Hyde Park, which is closer to work by a good bit because it's on the south side. Even Ukrainian Village seems up my alley.

But just now, I sit here all tired and yet will not go to bed.
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I have never been so completely open and unworried about a thing in my life. It isn't that I don't care. Because I do. I way do. It's this faith thing. This move is entirely not in my hands. Just like that little cross post down below. I am simply standing here. And all my life, all I ever heard was, "It isn't enough to just want something. You have to really work for it." And yet, in my life, that just has not been the case. Not in the big, life altering stuff and decisions. Faith gives me what it needs me to have. And it takes me, repeatedly, to where it needs me to be.

And I am okay with that. I just keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. Nope. That's not it. Hmmm.... Aha. It's this massive distrust of anything good happening to me. I spent so long in the very pits of my own insanity that it became my warm safe place. Bright, green places weren't to be trusted because they weren't real. They couldn't be. Not when all I knew for so very long was the deep, moist, dank tunnels in which I lived. Tunnels crawling with monsters of my own creation. Monsters that were me.

That has always been my biggest battle with faith; trusting that such light can find its place in me. The truth of it is everywhere. I know this. But intellectual knowledge is hard pressed to hold its own against such a thing as abject, stark madness and all it teaches you. Like a beaten dog, even after all this time in health, I still flinch at the proverbial hand raised in greeting; waiting for it to strike me down, back to my lowly and rightful place.
-------

Ahh. See? Verbose. Finally. Maybe I should tell more folks.

Nah.

So I Lied

Just a day or so ago, after opening my very first blog, I said I would not be telling people about it. But, after being cajoled and bossed, I did just that.

Crap. Now I have to be verbose.

Death Of A TechnoDyke

So there's this little place I found ages ago. You know, when I was still internet stupid. Called TechnoDyke. I fell right in. Loved it. And, coming into the end of my five year relationship, it was a welcome diversion. Not to mention a spark to the dying flame of my wit and conversational prowess.

The wee message board that could.

I feel like a complete waste saying it, but the place really had an amazing affect on me. Having lived with a girl for far too long who didn't converse, or wouldn't, and didn't really seem to "like" me much (whyever did she pick me, I will never know), the place just came along at the right time. As things in my universe so often do.

As boards are wont to be, the place was/is cyclical. People came and went. Some stayed the course. Every now and then, we'd go through a period of tearing each other apart. No one knew why. There would just all of a sudden be this undercurrent of volatility.

Earlier this month, the admin "grounded" us for three days. Said she'd grown weary of the grief.

The problem was that, somehow, the fucking letter she posted in place of the board totally triggered my nearly latent psychosis. I am almost never triggered. I like to think that I am made of stronger stuff than that. But there I was. Feeling eight. Feeling like my fucking mother had ripped me apart.

And so, this little technodyke is still angry.



Jeeze. People really read this stuff? I don't know that I'm all sold on blogging. But you just wait till my head goes all loose again. Boy. I'm all kinds of verbose when the madness comes. You'll just love that.

(Incidently, spell check doesn't like fucking, either. Phtt. Fuck spell check.)

Dad Thoughts

Today, for reasons I still don't understand, I had McDonald's. (Is there an apostrophe in that? There should be.)

Anyway. I had the Number Three. That's right. World famous and eaten mostly by teens, the Big Mac went down muh gullet this day. Tangy goodness that just isn't like a burger should be.

Suddenly, thanks to my madness, I am transported to a trip back to school with just my Dad. We stopped to have lunch. I swear, today I could see him. Smell him. It was nice. (He's not dead, by the way.)

So. This is the kind of shit that goes into a blogger, huh? Exciting, ain't it?

Blogger Hell

So it had to happen, did it not?

Here I am, a wee blogger wannabe, with blog trauma. Mama needs a link section, yanno? So, into the voluminous help section I go. I wander. I click. I read until my eyes bleed. I am terrified of screwing up yonder template.

I got nuthin. So I emailed the blogger gods that be.

PHTT!

(Incidently. Does it make any sense that blogspot's own spell check does not recognize the word blog?)

Fun With Cross Posting

So. I read other's LJs. Yep. Totally admit it.

And a few days ago, the 26th or somesuch, a friend wrote a few things in her always eloquent journal that I responded to.

I liked what I wrote and so "you" get to read it now:

Back when I was really really sick and so very new at *being* sick, I used to see my little life as one of those snow globes on the far corner, upper left, if you must know, of God's desk.

Every now and then, when I wasn't paying attention to what I was supposed to be doing, he'd pick the damn thing up, my LIFE, he'd pick it up and shake it for all he was worth.

Generally, I would freak out and run around trying to put all the pieces back the way they were. Eventually, I learned to let them just fall. To just stand there and let them fall. They always seemed to fall exactly as they should.

See, my little snow globe was full of bricks. I spent a decade sorting bricks. When all I had to do, to not be beaten into a bloody pulp by falling bricks, was to just stand there and let them fall. Some neat things got built that way in my life.

Some people say, "Get moving. DO something!" Some of us, though, need to just stand there. Don't just do something, stand there.

Never let down, Shan.

Boy. Ain't that great?

Phtt.

Ah, The Beginning

I won't be saying hello because I don't truly expect this to be found. I certainly doubt that I'll be mentioning it to friends. But I wanted to give it a try.

I figure this is a good time to begin.

Currently in Nashville, I have accepted a position in Chicago. Yes, yes. All so very exciting. Or petrifying. Whatever. The point is that .... well, what is the point, then?

In theory, I shall list things that I need to accomplish. Rant. Rave. The usual. I'll get the hang of this soon enough.

Till then I shall use this as my pseudo journal. How I write here is how I write in my paper journal. You'll get (whoever "you" might be, that's never been really defined in muh journal), "you'll" get the ravings of the lunatic that I can be, occasional thoughtful semi-prose, the needed lists and all the excitement and fear of this huge impending move that I can cram in.

That's right, you'll laugh, you'll cry...

You know the drill.