Introspection

I have been thinking lately about what I want to do with my life. I do want to be an interpreter, yes. But, I don’t know. It’s hard to describe.

I am very… I can’t think of the word. Easily influenced, change my mind a lot. It’s kind of late, and I had school today, so my brain is a bit fried. I go through jags, as I have mentioned before. Sign language and knitting are the only things that have stuck around for any length of time, really. More generally, I like personal histories, and I want to travel, but I have only been to two states (though it may be three this summer), never been out of the country.

Sometimes I think ASL has worn out it’s welcome in my intrest-o-meter, and the only reason I am still taking classes with it is because 1) I don’t know what else I would/could do and 2) I picked my JC because of it. I feel like I should, but I really don’t know anymore.

Right now, I am planning on going through the interpreter program, graduating with my Certificate or AA or whatever, then transfering to a CSU to get a BA in something (you need a BA to interpret, or will soon). But I don’t know what to get it in (I may not have a choice, they may want something like Communications, if not directly Deaf/ASL related).

Maybe I think about the future too much. I have already started collecting dishes for when I move out (nowhere in the near future). I don’t want to “eat off the good plastic”, as my brother said. I want actual dishes, actual utensils, pots, pans, knives. I cook, and want to cook for myself, even though cooking for one is a bit harder. Most of the stuff I know how to make is for 2-4, sometimes with leftovers. I am already planning for things that are at least two years away. And who knows what could happen in two years?

I also feel like my coping mechanisms for stress may actually be detrimental. My way of coping with stress is to just not think about it, and write stories in my head. It started as a way to get to sleep easier, because I worry a fair amount, so I just told myself “no, you are not allowed to think about school, you will write this fanfiction tonight.” It got to the point that I don’t just confine it to the nighttime, I think about it during the day, too.

Maybe I do this because I get bored so easily. It’s not like I have had the most interesting, exciting life. My hands get bored, which is why I was knitting in Psych today. Plain sock, under my desk, bothered nobody, between taking notes. But my mind still wanders. And at inappropriate times, too. During Psych or Oceanography, something will remind me of something else, and for a few seconds before I catch myself I will be thinking about Hogan’s Heroes or some knitting pattern I have in my head that I want to design. Then I have to mentally slap myself and get back into what the teacher is saying.

I don’t know. I feel like having a good cry, but then that won’t solve anything. I’ve thought like this before, but it has always been in the middle of the week, like the night before I have school, and it’s not like I can stay up all night soul-searching.

I like learning. I find my classes very interesting, and love to learn more about it. But I am more of a “read a book and learn something” rather than a “go out and find out for yourself” type person. So I can’t see myself as an archaeologist or scientist (I hate math anyway).

I have almost a week off coming up. I want to get ahead in my reading for my classes. Maybe I can think about things then.

Back to School Time

And I am glad to be back in school. Yeah, it’s nice to be a lump on the couch for winter break, but if I don’t do anything during the day, then I can’t sleep at night, then I don’t have the energy to do anything the next day, and it is a vicious cycle that is really hard to break. Plus I drive about 40 minutes to get to school, so it’s not like all my friends are nearby.

Anyway.

I love all my classes. Last semester I had a crazy that didn’t know what in the world he was talking about, and it made me really stress. I would be driving home with my jaw clenched, and it would give me a headache. Now, I leave class, and I am smiling. I just want to hop down the stairs like a little kid.

It probably also helps that I’m not taking English (all done for my GE), nor am I taking all ASL classes. I have one ASL class, and I think it is going to be really good.

My other classes are Archaeology (online), Psychology, and Oceanography. I forgot how much I love science. I read the first chapter of my Oceanography book, and remembered. None of the classes are the “standard” classes that I am used to taking. It’s great!

I am so glad to be back in school. I am really shy. I don’t go “clubbing”, I don’t go to parties. A good time for me is watching Monty Python or old horror movies (Abbot and Costello meet the Mummy, anyone?) and knitting. Therefore, I have a really hard time meeting new people. So, at least in school I have access to people.

My best friend is in Germany right now. It really doesn’t make that much of a difference to me, because normally she would be away at college, and I wouldn’t be able to meet up with her anyway.

So yeah. No majorly interesting dreams lately. No, I tell a lie. I did have a very strange one while we were at our cabin.

I was walking through some sort of home improvement store, I think it was Home Depot. Walking, walking, and suddenly I see this guy that was either lynched or commited suicide. His body was hanging from a noose off of one of the high shelves. His body was. His head was on the ground, and was rather green. Because if the rope is too long for the weight of the body, it can pop the head off.

And there was something about roving, too. Just the little bits, like for needle felting. How that is connected to some guy that lost his head in the noose, I have no idea.

So, just thought I’d post SOMEthing, at least. Ta-ta!

Hello again

Yes, I have not posted since last year, huh? Oh well. Not like anybody reads this thing anyway. 😀 I don’t care, though. Whatever. It’s all good

You know those dreams where you wake up and question your sanity? Yeah, had another one of those last night. And I hate that I can only remember little bits and fragments of a dream. I wan the whole thing, dang it. They prove my insanity.

Anyway.

I was playing cards with some of the guys from Hogan’s Heros, (and a bunch of nameless, faceless extras) and we were in the “living room” area, by the TV, which changes into my room at night. It was some form of Go Fish, but with regular cards. Multiple packs, because I asked somebody for the 10 of *mumblemumble*, which was what I was holding.

Yes, it was fantabulous. But I can’t understand why I would play cards with them, because I was sitting right next to Newkirk. You can’t win against him. If he doesn’t cheat, he beats you outright with skill.

I’ve stopped questioning my sanity, really. I know I’m a bit off, but that’s okay, it makes things a bit more interesting. My grandpa is utterly normal, and it’s a wonder my dad turned out as well as he did.

So yeah, I am on a Hogan’s Heroes jag right now, and along with most of my jags comes an object of affection. That object is Newkirk. You know how some people have posters of boy bands, oh my walls are plastered with pictures of Orlando Bloom/Johnny Depp/Brad Pitt/ Justin Timberlake/insert famous male pretty boy here. I’m not like that.

I latch onto one thing, one time period, one… book, movie, show, anything. Before this, it was Victorian. I’ve done Lord of The Rings, Forgotten Realms (R. A. Salvatore, fantasy, magic, whatever), Pirates of The Caribbean, and now Nazi Germany/Hogan’s Heroes type, stuff. I know I’ll burn out on it after a while, but that’s okay, I get a new one pretty quick.

With these jags, I write stories. That is how I deal with stress, and how I can get to sleep at night without worrying excessivly about something I have no control over, or school, finals, whatever. I write stories in my head as I fall asleep. Sometimes it’s original fiction, sometimes fanfiction, depending on the genre. If it is open and vague, like ‘Victorian’, then it will be, generally, original fiction. If it is more specific, like my current Nazi Germany/Hogan’s Heroes one, it is usually fanfiction.

Of course, the story I am currently working on started out as original fiction, but had taken a not-so-subtle turn to fanfiction. It involves travel through time and space through the use of old military jackets, and the ensuing oddities created therein. It started when I saw people selling military jackets at antique shows, and I thought “Wouldn’t it be cool if when you put on a jacket, it took you to the time and place it was used?” The only one that really got written out at all was a Nazi German one, which sort of squiks me out a bit, just because the Nazi’s were sort of, well… misanthropic bastards. But, it’s okay, the Nazi that is connected with the jacket (SS or Gestapo, I’m not sure yet) gets sent to the Russian Front or Poland and gets his legs blown off by a grenade tossed into his car and dies. 😀 So, that’s fun.

But I have noticed that my main characters (female generally, I’m female, and that’s what I know) have a tendency to have something really dark about them. This character, when she puts on a jacket, tends to be some sort of war nurse. So, she has seen a lot of grisly, bloody deaths, including WWII and Vietnam. Vietnam as a field nurse, I believe. So she gets all these nightmares, but only when she has the proverbial/actual jacket on. When she’s in Now, she’s fine, it’s like she has watched a bunch of movies, but when she’s in Then, she is a total screw up. Major issues, as you can imagine, because she has seen several wars, and was part of them.

That brings me back to my own sanity. I didn’t have a difficult childhood. I have never been abused. I have not seen someone die, nor have I experienced anything traumatic in my lifetime. My life is boring, and I am grateful of it. Like the curse I got from Discworld, “May you live in interesting times!” ‘Interesting’ usually means war, or something bad. I’ll take boring, thank you very much.

But that still brings into question why my characters are so screwed up. One of them is/was in an abusive relationship, and has ‘Battered Woman’s Syndrome’, or whatever it’s called. She gets beat and hurt, but loves her husband anyway. This one now essentially has PTSD, but in a twisted, warped-to-suit-my-own-needs kind of way. One looses her best friend and possible love intrest (he was shot, as was she, but she lived), and looses her religion, in a very pissed off way. Another’s parents are killed in a car accident, and then (LOST fanfiction bit here) is in a plane crash. Major stress causes her to loose her hearing temporarily, so the entire time she is on the island she is signing. One is a were-vampire. That one is a sort of urban fantasy thing. Mom was a vampire, dad is a werewolf. Mom was staked by dad, because she was a Bad vampire.

Most of my characters have lost parents, or been through some traumatic event, or something. And I have no explanation.

Bah, Humbug

Yes, I said bah humbug. It is the day after Christmas, and all the Christmas things are down and put away, except for the outdoor lights, which will probably come down tomorrow. That is all perfectly fine by me.

I don’t get Christmas. Now I don’t mean “Oh, poor me, I didn’t get to have Christmas this year”, I mean I just don’t understand Christmas.

I am not religious in any sense of the word. I have been to a church service once, and thought it was a waste of a Sunday morning. I don’t have Faith, in the religious sense of the word. I was not brought up that way. My approach to God and religion is one of “Well, there might be, there might not be, I don’t know, I’m too busy thinking about my life and trying to be a good person.” I have enough stress from life to have to add in the stress over my everlasting soul being sent to damnation or not.

Christmas is a religious holiday. Jesus was born on December the 25th. Or, so the Bible says. I heard somewhere that historians actually think Jesus was born in July.

So, we go out and get an evergreen tree, chop it down (or, you know, bring the plastic and metal one down from the attic), bring it inside, put lots of little lights on it, cover it with small shiny objects, then put gifts to each other under the tree.

Why?

Really, to celebrate a religious leader, that wasn’t even really that much of a leader at the time? He was just a guy that wanted people to be nice to each other.

Now, before you go all crazy on me, about how he was the son of God, don’t you believe that, do you think he was just lying, whatever. Answer this:

Have you ever played the game Telephone? Where one person tells a story, or something to one person, and it passes down the line, and you see what you get? Yeah, I did that in ASL one time. The teacher was talking about her dog, a cocker spanial, he’s black, they got him at 6 months, he’s 8 now, whatever. We ended up with “The boy has a blue dog.”

I think that’s what has happened. Maybe not as drastically, but the same idea. The Bible has been translated to and from every language possible.

Here is an example, using an online translator (English to language, back to English, to language, etc):

Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.

French: Blessed are the soft one, because they will inherit the ground

German: Blessed are the soft, because they inherit the ground

Italian: Blessed is the morbidezza, because they inherit the earth

Portuguese: Blessed is morbidezza, because they inherit the land

Spanish: Blessed is morbidezza, because they inherit the track

Based with all this margin for human error, I don’t think God or the Goddess, or all the gods and goddesses in all the world could blame me for not trusting my fellow humans.

And that is why I don’t like Christmas.

Did I lose you? Yeah, thought so.

It’s just so… commercialized. You always start seeing more ads for toys in December, always see more ads for THINGS, and everything “Makes a Great Gift!” even a Clapper.

Don’t waste the energy trying to tell me that it’s about giving, and sharing what you have, and ‘holiday cheer’, whatever that really means. Shouldn’t we be generous all year? Shouldn’t we be kind all year? Shouldn’t we visit our relatives not just around the holidays?

To quote Eddie Izzard:

Ein minuten bitte! Ich habe einen kleinen problemo avec diese religione.

Hanukkah isn’t nearly so advertized as Christmas. You go into almost any store in November or December, everything is Christmas. Same thing with Kwanzaa. You never hear about those.

I don’t concider myself athiest, nor do I concider myself agnostic. Though I don’t align myself with any other major -or minor, for that matter- religion. I don’t mind people that are religious, just don’t try to convert me, or impose your beliefs on me, and I’m more than happy to be your friend.

Gingerbread!

Oh, I have a very exciting social life. You want to hear about it? You may want to sit down for this, it’s that good.

I spent Friday evening helping a couple munchkins make gingerbread houses.

I know, I’m such a party animal, aren’t I? No stopping me.

It was kind of cute. There was a 3 year old boy that would say yes to anything you offered to him. “Do you want a big dot of frosting right here?” “Yes.” “Do you want to put some Nerds on your house?” “Yes.” I could have asked him “Do you want me to put lots of big frosting hearts all over the house?” “Yes.”

Then there was a 7 year old girl. She was fine, not as cute as the little boy, though. Then another woman came over with her 7 year old daughter, and house pieces. It ended up really being the mom’s house to decorate, her daughter was just eating candy and helping the other girl.

I was the designated piper. Need some more frosting over here? Okay, just a sec. Oo, he wants more for candy canes, okay. My hand was really tired after that.

Got home, had dinner. My parents put a house together, and I did one. Turned out really cute.

That’s a little doorknob on the door. Bit of broken Necco, and a M&M wreath. I meant to have them all facing the same way, so it would be just green dots, but I wasn’t paying attention. Oh well. And those are little frosting icicles, too.

Red bow in the back. Again, I wanted all the blank sides to face out, but wasn’t paying enough attention, and wasn’t too terribly worried about it.

I had never done a tiled or shingled roof before. Just pipe on some frosting, break a bunch of Neccos in half, and stick ’em on. And yes, I do have a little window box or window sill. Those are chocolate rocks, my parents found them.

I have a chimney. It is just a munch of broken up dark Neccos. I really like it, though. And yes, I have another rock on this side.

I think this was the best gingerbread house I have done. I really like it. And I haven’t even started breaking bits off yet.

Oh, then today my mom came home from work with a Fun Fur scarf. Jesus Christ on a broken crutch.

One of her coworkers started it three years ago, when they were really popular. Had about 6 inches on it. My mom agreed to finish it for her, and I have been working on it a little too. The woman claims to love it, and would wear it.

That thing looks like a muppet pelt that has been in some back alley of a big city for months. It’s gray, yellow, and brown. My mom claims it is silver, gold, and bronze. Six one way, half-dozen the other. Bleagh.

I have thought about knitting a Muppet for myself, but that means I would have to do shaping in eyelash yarn. It would mean I would have to use eyelash yarn, period.

I Believe…

… in the power of music, to both inspire change, and to keep me from killing people when it is too early, or I have to sit too long with nothing to do.

… in knitting to be able to do the same thing.

… that laughter, while unable to hold a candle to penicillin, is still pretty good.

… everyone in the world should knit.

… in the Christmas spirit, even if it can get a bit much sometimes and I go all Grinch on everyone’s sorry @$$. : D

… that costumes at any time of the year, not just Halloween, can never be a bad thing.

… people think they are doing what is right, for a given value of “right”.

… in laneus veritas. (taken from the phrase in vino veritas, meaning “in wine is truth”, laneus, apparently, means wool)

Things that make me happy

Taken directly from my friend Stephanie‘s blog.

So, seven things that are making me happy, after how long of having depressing, low-self-esteem posts.

1. It is almost Thanksgiving break, even though with my schedule that means only one day.

2. Related, but separate; Stephanie (of the blog fame mentioned above) is coming home for Thanksgiving. I will be spending a lot of time over there with her this weekend.

3. On Wednsday, I will be going over to my grandma’s house with my dad (his parents) to help set up for Thanksgiving. Grandma has Alzheimers, but it’s not too bad yet, just fogetting minor things, but grandpa refuses to adapt to try and help, and is only focused on himself. But I digress. Grandpa will be out that day (volunteers with PD, every Tues and Wed), so it will just be me, my dad, and grandma. Grandpa is the stereotypical, crotchety old man. : D

4. Gas prices are plumeting. Filling up last time cost $26.

5. I signed up for classes last Thursday, and got all the classes I wanted. While one of them did actually have a prerequisite that I didn’t notice, I signed up for another class in case I do have to drop it. Haven’t heard back from the teacher yet, but either way I have all the units I need.

6. I will not win NaNoWriMo, but I surpassed my wordcount from last year, and may add some more. Last year my story ended at about 14k, and I’m at 16k plus some change, and it’s not finished. I wonder if I will actually finish the story…

7. Uh… crap, one more. Uh… OH! The Dickens Christmas Faire is coming up! My mom has been before, but it has been a long time, and we will be going.

Which reminds me, oh Stephanie…

i haz a happi

Yes, all the crap is still going on, dropped history, but I’m ignoring that for now.

I filled up my car for $26. I have a blue/turquoise pyrex pie plate from my grandma. She will not get rid of things, but will give them to other people. Also from her we got a checkerboard cake pan.

What? You don’t know what a checkerboard cake pan is?

Oh, you have never heard of a checkerboard cake?

Well, here you go. I couldn’t get the picture to upload.

Stephanie is also going to be home next weekend. I haven’t seen her (besides pictures on her blog, and that doesn’t really count) since the beginning of the semester. I think we are going to be making a checkerboard cake.

Sixteen Thousand Three Hundred And Fifty One

My current NaNo count. The most I have gotten so far. Possibly as far as I am going to get this year. Last year I think I got to about 14k, so another 2k this year.

Reasons:

I got a 45/100 on my history midterm. Yikes. That gave me a bit of stress.

I am going to be quitting my job. I have never quit a job before, and I hate confrontation. It’s kind of complicated.

I have applied at another place, so I have the whole “Oh, are they going to hire me or not” stress.

It’s mostly the job thing. Killed my creativity, and my MC’s are at a party. I can’t write that while I’m in this kind of mood.

Um, yeah, that’s about it for today. I am actually a pretty happy person, contrary to what this blog may seem.

So, here is a gratuitous Eddie Izzard video (again, he does swear a fair amount, so if you have virgin ears or don’t like swearing, or there are virgin ears about, do not watch):

Eight Thousand Three Hundred Fifty Five

That is my current word count for NaNo.

I am rather behind, but I’m still goin’ for it. I have stints of a couple thousand words in one day, then prolonged spaces of nothing-ness. It’s okay though. I need to get a scene in my head before I can pound out the words, and I think I have the next scene, or at least one coming up soon. Can you say dance party in the dining hall? : D w00t w00t!

I’m still not sure if my characters sign or not, though. I have found it hard to make characters that do not either knit or sign. Or both. My three MC’s may all sign, because apparently they have a Deaf uncle. Well, two have a Deaf uncle.

I’m still not sure of MMC2’s past. He was adopted or was a foster child, or “friend of the family” or something, and grew up with my other two MC’s, and has lived with them since then, and they are now all in their early twenties.

I have to wait to off FMC2, though, ’cause that is kind of the end of the story. I want to, though, she’s whiny and annoying. and totally doesn’t fit in with the other MC’s. Which is sort of the point, really.

I don’t plan on publishing, and this is vague enough that I don’t really mind posting this.