Strange as it may seem, this life is based on a true story." - Ashleigh Brilliant


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name: shanna
age: 28
sign: scorpio
live: louisiana
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The current mood of shanna at www.imood.com

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Pin-up girl by Rion Vernon; used with permission. Header design by the totally awesome Rose. The rest by moi.


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Monday, September 29, 2003

Forgive my absences - probably going to be a few of those in the coming weeks. Just a lot going on, and I'm not dealing well. It'll all work out - no doubt - it always does. Right now I'm just going through it pretty tough. I'll keep you posted.


- shanna bared her soul & griped a bit @ 9:07 AM
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Sunday, September 28, 2003

My favorite two junk emails subject lines today:
I cannot believe a 18 years old girl can handle a horses **** in her! Watch this...
and
Fwd: Farmsdaughter takes 20inch horse shlong

I'm unsure why, but almost every sexually over junk email title has been about horses and farms lately...please tell me this isn't happening in just my inbox.

I know most of my posts lately have been deep and appreciate-your-life type stuff. Understand that this battle with my leg is even more mental and emotional than it is physical. And while I hate to do it again, I just had to post about this young girl I know.

My family had a birthday get-togther yesterday to celebrate my mom, brother and first cousin's birthdays (which are all just days apart). My sister got a phone call from a friend who had just come from Mandy's house. We grew up around Mandy - we sat in the same seat on the bus with her for years, her little brother and my little brother were good friends, and she's only a year older than my sister. Yesterday was her 23rd birthday, and she was getting married in November. Why I can't get Mandy out of my head is that she most likely won't live to see the month of November. Her young body is completely ate up with cancer - she has it in her rectum, her colon, her lymph nodes...and somewhere else I just can't recall. They decided against a surgery to remove her rectum, as they felt it would just put her through undue stress...but she's on chemotherapy. My sister's friend said she looked horrible, and just sat there...obviously extremely depressed. Gods, the world can be so cruel! I can't get her off of my mind...such a young life completely over. It's just so terribly sad.

Nothing else exciting to report for this weekend. The family get-together went off without much excitement. At least, no drama to report. I plan to spend the day playing NWN and Everquest, and some point get off my lazy ass and run to Books-A-Million and get Laurell K. Hamilton's A Kiss of Shadows because it looks very good. I'm trying to write more, and to be a good writer, you have to read. The season premiere of Charmed comes on tonight, so I'll be glued to the TV around 7pm (what an odd thing for me to say - I normally abhor television). That's pretty much it for my Sunday-day-of-rest plans.



- shanna bared her soul & griped a bit @ 6:41 AM
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Wednesday, September 24, 2003

Been very busy, but didn't want you to think I'd gone away forever. Thinking of re-vamping the whole look of this page; just because I have the designing bug. I thought, too, of renaming it. Is there some rule against changing the name of your blog? I was struck with an idea and might go with it.

Anyway, there is a point to this non-sensical ramble. Just wanted to drop a quick hello and post something I wrote in a letter to a friend...just because it's something I felt as if I should share. (Forgive the first-draft quality - it was written rather quickly)....

I’m reading one of McWilliams’ other books, Life 101, and it’s very good; very simple yet insightful. The whole first chapter is about life’s lessons and how there is a lesson in everything, no accidents, etc etc etc. And as I’m reading this, I’m thinking about people who don’t get that yet. How hard life must be for them – I remember my thoughts on it all before I learned that it was all on me and up to me, and everything was a lesson and a chance for growth. I was angry; had the whole “why me/poor me” syndrome going on. Now it’s “ok – what can I do to change this and what can I learn from it?” I see every “bad” thing in my life as a blessing; a chance to grow and be better. But for those that haven’t yet learned that pearl of wisdom, life must be very frustrating and difficult. I realized how very lucky I am to have learned that wisdom already – otherwise I would be in an even worse state about this whole leg thing. I would be thinking “Why did this happen to me? Why couldn’t I have just gotten over the surgery like everyone else?” Those things would’ve plagued my mind so badly, I’d of had an even harder time at recovery. I realize that it is a very important thing to learn – to stop blaming outside forces and “fate”, to realize the chance you’re being given to grow, to understand that the “bad” stuff is only good stuff behind a mask. Even better stuff, actually, than the plain and obvious “good” stuff. I just always took for granted that I knew that (had learned it – I didn’t always know it), but I see now how important it was; how important it is for everyone to realize this. It would make everyone’s lives so much better – if they stopped digging their heels in and resisting – stopped fighting the bad events that are plaguing them and learn to work through them and use them to grow stronger. It's just my hope that everyone learns this lesson - and will be able to enrich their lives because of it.


- shanna bared her soul & griped a bit @ 9:25 AM
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Friday, September 19, 2003

So yesterday I went to the dentist. I haven't been in years (bad Shanna), so it was rather unpleasant. I go back in three months for another check-up and cleaning.

Now my mouth feels weird - all clean and kinda sore. I'm doing my best to get it back to feeling like normal by consuming large amounts of junk food, liquor and cigarettes. Things will be back to normal soon enough.

It's FRIDAY!! And you know nothing, except the season of autumn, can make me quite as unexplicably excited. And it's payday. Well, slap me silly and call me Susan. Where in the hell does that statement come from?

I'm getting my hair cut this weekend. Hip-hip-hooray! And I plan to invest in a new color (most likely some form of red, as usual lately). You know, getting my hair cut is a simple pleasure that I enjoy oh-so much. I love it; just makes me feel so good.

Wish I had more to report, but life is...well, it's life. It goes on. I'll probably post something later on today, or this weekend. 'Til then, have a *great* one everybody.


- shanna bared her soul & griped a bit @ 7:01 AM
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So I guess my quick question this morning is, does hearing Bush now say there are no links between Saddam and 9/11 change your views on our invasion of Iraq at all?


- shanna bared her soul & griped a bit @ 5:53 AM
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Thursday, September 18, 2003

I read in a random blog I found (Monkey Pee Monkey Poo) about this ('Grand Theft Auto' makers sued over teenage killing').

This kind of stuff gets me so angry. I agree completely with James that the fault of this is on the parents.

For starters, I own Grand Theft Auto: Vice City, and I've played a lot of Grand Theft Auto 3. The game is bad; violently speaking. There is a damn good reason it is rated M for Mature. Who bought this game for these children? It's not made for children - not in the least. Maybe they played it at a friends house? Then who bought it for those kids? Sue them, not the makers of the game.

The fact remains, regardless that these children never should've even seen GTA, much less been allowed to play it, there is no one to blame here but the parents. What kind of a child are you raising that thinks it's a-okay to kill another human being because they saw it on a video game??? What type of unstable children are you raising that they can't tell the difference between fantasy and reality? What well-raised child is going to think it's okay to hurt and kill just because they saw it on the screen? Don't give me that bullshit about violence in the media! No - the problem is parents today.

We were raised playing computer and video games - some violent, some not. None of us ran out and mowed down innocent passers-by in a hail of bullets. My parents played D&D, even with us sometimes (heaven forbid), and none of us turned out to be evil, animal-sacrificing, blood-drinking, devil-worshippers. We were raised being allowed to watch just about anything on TV, as long as it wasn't overly sexual, and none of us three thought that it would be okay to do the things we saw on TV! Because it wasn't real - and in real life, you don't shoot people, you don't beat people and you don't use the shit you saw on TV as an excuse when you did do wrong. If we had been so stupidly inclined, the whipping from Dad would've knocked those ideas right out of our young heads. I knew that if I did wrong, I'd be whipped and I'd be punished. And if I tried to use the lame-ass excuse that I "saw it on TV", I'd be whipped twice as hard for being stupid.

These people who are sueing the game makers are pointing fingers to take the blame off of themselves. You raised a child that killed an innocent man - and you're saying it's someone else's fault. Maybe if you'd been better parents, your child would have known it's a bad thing to kill people - no matter what he saw on TV or played in a game. That's the problem with parents today - they want to blame everyone and everything else instead of looking at their own parenting skills. It's not Eminem's fault little Mikey curses and acts like a thug. It's not Capcom's fault your kid is shooting up the neighborhood. It's not Jackass' fault that your kid was dumb enough to douse himself in gasoline and light himself on fire. It's your fault.

If people would stop trying to blame everything under the sun that's present in our society today for the spiraling downfall of our younger generations - if they would take the time to raise these children - it could get better. As long as we're looking in the wrong direction as to the source of the problem, nothing will ever change. A video game does not make a child a killer. Bad parents do.


- shanna bared her soul & griped a bit @ 6:41 AM
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Wednesday, September 17, 2003

I don't like Wednesdays; only because I have therapy on Wednesdays. No, no, not head therapy, physical therapy for my leg. We had a really good session last week - this huge POP/CRACK when a major adhesion broke. My goal is to be walking by Christmas, and right now I've been trying to walk on just one crutch. It's not easy when your leg hasn't supported any weight in over a year (it's gotten much smaller than the other leg). It's hard to put weight on it, also, because it's stuck in a bent position. Very hard to walk when you can't straighten the damn thing. But I'm determined - every day a little more - and I know I will get through this. I cannot accept defeat or failure - to do so would mean I'd be crippled for the rest of my life. And I can honestly say, having been so for over a year, it's no walk in the park. I always respected those who were handicapped in any way - whether they could not see, could not walk, could not use their arm. I have an even deeper empathy and respect for these people now. Every single thing they do every single day - small things we take for granted like curling into a ball and sleeping at night, walking outside to get the mail, being able to sweep the floor, just getting around the office where you work - are huge challenges. Nothing is simple when you're incapacitated. These are beautiful, remarkable people just for getting up and facing each day anew - a day that will always present a new challenge in the form of something they once did without thinking.

When I can walk again, I will never gripe about having to park too far away - in fact I'll park far away on purpose, just so I can walk. I'll never hate doing housework again - I'll be so glad I'm just able to do it. A week won't go by that I don't make sure I go for a walk in a park and enjoy the world around me. Every single night that I go to sleep and am able to curl back into my favorite sideways-fetal position, I will thank the gods. Oh, how I miss sleeping comfortably. Going through something like this teaches you that you must never take anything for granted - anything ever. I feel so very lucky - quite blessed even - to have been faced with such a challenge in this lifetime. Because of it I will be stronger and have an even greater compassion and empathy for my fellow man. I will cherish the simple things in life - playing hide and seek with my godchildren, taking a walk, working in my garden, being able to sit cross-legged again. Things I cannot do now - things I have to fight and struggle to be able to do again. Because of that I will have a deeper appreciation for the simple things - for the things that we all take for granted. You begin to realize that everything is a blessing, and no matter how bad you think your life may be, you are blessed by many, wonderful things. The ability to see, to hear, to speak, to touch, to feel, to move, to smell, to walk, to think. You may not count these among the things you are happy for - or as reasons that your life is fine. But you need only to think about losing one of them and you will realize that life has been good to you.

So today, think of all of your blessings, and thank your personal god or gods for them. Run and play in a park today - smell the flowers - see the green grass and smiles on people's faces - listen to the sounds around you - talk to someone you've never met - and think about how good your life is and how blessed you are. You see, it's the simple things that matter and when you change your perspective, the big things don't seem so bad anymore. :)


- shanna bared her soul & griped a bit @ 6:28 AM
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Tuesday, September 16, 2003

There is one thing I will teach my children. Even long before their little fingers are able to stroke the keys and surf the web. This wisdom will carry on from my children to their children, so on and so forth.

Listen carefully, unborne offspring of mine, and heed these words.

Do not, ever, do Drunk Ebay

This is more important than "Don't do Drunk-Ex-Calls" and "Don't do Drunk-Emails". Even sober, Ebay has a powerfully compelling grip on your senses, and your pocketbook.

Last night, Baret and I decided to check out Ebay. "Ooh! See if they have this..." The cursed words - especially when accompanied by two-too-many glasses of white wine. Really, we didn't do as badly as usual. I am the proud owner of the original Playstation game, Tenchu: Stealth Assasins, and am waiting to see if I can come away with MTV Music Generator 2, because it is so cool to mix up your own songs. Aren't I the little DJ? Baret bid on some Eerie comics that he remembered from childhood, and the original Resident Evil Playstation game; which he loves and loaned out to a cousin who never returned it. Bad, bad drunk Ebayers.

Last time I ended up with so many sets of "cool" candle holders, I have no where to hang them!


- shanna bared her soul & griped a bit @ 12:23 PM
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Let me just tell you something, folks. It feels amazing outside this morning.

There is nothing, not a thing, that compares to that first good chill in the air. That first real cool snap that makes your bare skin tingle and your soul just vibrate with joy. Well, it does mine. I'm ready for crisp fall days - for the brilliant displays of red, gold and brown. For early, chilly twilights and golden yet brisk days. I'm in love with sweater weather! I want to gaze at the Full Blood Moon on a windy, nippy October night, under a black velvet sky dotted with thousands of twinkling stars. The sky is always clearest in the fall. I want to pull out my favorite pair of jeans and my favorite long sleeve shirts and pullovers...I can't wait to start wearing my warm jackets and various hats and gloves. I want to eat apples, rake up a pile of colorful leaves and fall into them; I'd like to have a leaf fight with my brother and sister again. I cannot wait to hear the crunch of brittle leaves underfoot as you walk along the carpet of the fallen gems.

What is fall to you? Growing up, fall was when my grandmother took us shopping for our "fall wardrobe". New jeans and sweaters. Fall was when the local town fair came - Labor Day weekend. My sister and I were excited for weeks prior; spending our time drawing fair rides with our Crayons and carefully planning which rides we would ride first, second and so forth. Fall was going back to school; fresh new notebooks, pencils and booksacks. It was cool air, crunchy leaves and big fires when my parents went to cleaning the yard.

It was Halloween - to this day, my absolute favorite holiday. I never cared about the candy, but dressing up and enjoying a night dedicated to nothing but creepy, scary, forbidden things was my idea of bliss. The entire town would come to my grandparents...we had haunted houses, but usually my uncle and dad would just dress up in costumes and scary masks and run out scaring the kids. They screamed, they ran and we never actually gave out much candy - but they must've loved it. They came in droves year after year. Still today people tell my Mom, "I remember coming to trick or treat at this house. It was always our favorite place to come to - we always knew there'd be something scary." We still laugh about the kid that dropped his bike in the middle of the road - and left it while he ran the other way. Halloween is very special to my family.

Fall holds so many great memories for me - and that first cool snap in the air brings them all back. So warm and so familiar - so comforting. I love this time of year.


- shanna bared her soul & griped a bit @ 7:05 AM
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Monday, September 15, 2003

I mentioned that I may see the ex today. Which makes me look like a big fool for letting him just come in and out of my life when he needs something. Everyone thinks I'm crazy for it and I never can quite explain why I do it.

Yet, an hour ago, a co-worker I'm friends with stopped by to tell me a close friend of his had committed suicide this past weekend. He told me that a few mutual friends said he had called them, needing to talk, and they turned him away. They told him they couldn't help him - what he was going through he needed professional advice on and they didn't feel "qualified" to help him with his problems.

And that, I realized, explains exactly why I never turn anyone away that I am, or even was once, close to when they come to me needing an ear.


- shanna bared her soul & griped a bit @ 11:51 AM
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Oh, and I noticed now that my Google search window up top is displaying ads for Everquest, due to my Friday post. Hehe.

I'm an official junkie now. I would like to confess here that I spent the entire weekend playing Everquest. Only because Saturday I couldn't leave my apartment due to the game, and Saturday night I couldn't sleep because of the god-fucking-awful band that played to celebrate the game 'til 2am. Sunday, well Sunday is play-EQ-day anyway. But I did get two of my characters past level 20 (which earned them their surnames). Yea. I know, I know...get a life, Shanna. lol


- shanna bared her soul & griped a bit @ 8:19 AM
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I do not like Mondays. I especially do not like Mondays where insanity from Friday leaks into a fresh, brand new week.

Regardless of the fact that the email said in ALL CAPS and bright red text that this was an URGENT email, and that the patch was an important and mandatory download that had to be installed immediately, there are people calling me this morning. "Oh, I didn't do it Friday. I need help."

Lovely. Already I've gotten another "I'm reading the instructions on the email, and it says 'Click the icon'. Where is the icon?"
It's the attachment that appears as an icon under those words you just read to me.
"Oooooh. Okay. I see it now."
I'm amazed.

I think the thing that gets me about these is that most of these people make triple what I do. This is the joy of being a tech. But, really, it is cool. How many people are lucky enough to have a job that provides such "DOH!"-type laughs.

I actually had someone call me once to tell me their computer was broken. Oh, I'm sure it is. What it's telling you?
"Everytime I try to start it up, it's just a black screen telling me something about a disk error. I've turned it back off and started it back up a few times, and keep getting this same error."
Is there a floppy disk in the drive?
"Huh? Oh, wait, yes, there is. Is that it?"
What do you think?

I know it doesn't sound like it, but I do like my job. But what fun would it be if I couldn't gripe about it? Keeping all of this stuff in would make someone's head explode.

The thing is, other than when it comes to computers, these are fairly intelligent people (okay, some of them).

Baret started work today back at this agency. I don't think he's overly excited, but he's going to be working close to home (inspecting LSU), and he won't have much office time. I wish I could work out in the field. I drove him to work this morning, and he got to view some Baton Rouge-morning-commute-madness firsthand. I told him he'd best get used to it.

This old fart pulls out, never bothering to stop for the Stop sign or look to see if anyone was coming, in this very nice, very new shiny white Caddy. I couldn't see if it was a male or female old fart, but the androgynous person proceeds to drive in the center of the road at approximately 2 mph. This didn't last long (thankfully) because it then came to a dead stop in the center of the road. It sat there for a few seconds, then put its right blinker on. And there it sat. And sat. I laid on the horn - thinking maybe the driver had fallen asleep or something. The androgynous old fart then put its left blinker on at the sound of my horn. And sat. WTF?! I floored it around as it started to make a very painfully slow and unsure turn left. Who lets people like this still drive?

Ah, the joys of Monday. And it's only 10 am. In other thrilling life news, I may be seeing the illustrious ex this evening. I forbid him to come to my house, but told him I'd meet him somewhere after work for a few hours. After I chewed his out for not showing up last week and not calling. I'm hoping he'll be a no-show again. No one understands why I keep being there for him. -shrug- He needs me and I care about him; I promised him I'd always be there for him and if I'm anything, I'm loyal. No one seems to understand, but that's ok. No one ever did understand anything between he and I.

Hopefully Baret and I will get to go to lunch. They don't have his uniform in yet, so I told his supervisor to tell him he had to wear one of the new-employee red shirts. He was a little nervous, even though he didn't admit it, that they'd put him in one of the red shirts (they're huge). Being able to use his supervisor to play jokes on him is only one advantage of his working out of the same office. Hehehe. You see, Baret is very small in the fashion of most true Cajuns...he's 5'4". And he's the tallest one in his family. That would be fine, except that he doesn't gain weight. Ever. He weighs 99 lbs., I shit you not. He hates his size, but he's really the cutest, most handsome little guy ever.

Wasn't that just oozing with cute-coupleness. Yuck. Believe it or not, I'm a die-hard romantic. I'm just not into being all public about it.

Well, time to end another long, rambling post about absolutely nothing. Here's to a gets-better-as-it-goes week ahead for everyone.


- shanna bared her soul & griped a bit @ 8:05 AM
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Friday, September 12, 2003

Can I say that I'm positively exuberated that it is Friday?! Hell yeah - enough to use the word exuberated, even. If you say it a few times, that is one helluva weird word.

As many of you don't know, the latest Everquest expansion pack came out this week. Wednesday to be exact. While I'm no uber-EQ-obsessed-freak like Baret (really, I'm trying to get him some help - he has problems), I do enjoy the game a good deal. This new expansion pack introduced 84 new areas to the world of Norrath in the form of dungeons tailored exclusively for group adventures. It was with great excitement that I went on my first "dungeon crawl" yesterday evening. We didn't finish the mission, but my Half-Elf Ranger foraged some cool stuff and looted a few nice items. The new graphics/creatures are pretty amazing. I was very impressed by the vampire chicks. They were hot...I mean, cool...they looked really cool.

So tonight will be another night of Baret and I ordering delivery, guzzling beer and playing Everquest. I sometimes thinks he loves me only because I drink beer and play games like a dude. I've always been "one-of-the-guys"; the tomboy. Part of my charm, I say. We're all excited for when he brings his computer over this weekend (for the great, big "move-in") so we can play EQ at the same time. Oh yeah, we're such huge geeks, I know. The thought of two computers in my house gets me tingling. Baret wants to buy the parts to build another one; not because we need it, but because we think it'd be fun to build our own computer. As Rose would say: Fun. To build. Your.Own.Computer. Right. We need to get out more, don't we?

Today, I came to work to be greeted by an email from our Data Center that a new security patch had to be downloaded immediately. "Oh shit," I thought. I went to my supervisor and told him to check the email. "Oh, shit," he said. You see, these emails are a nightmare for us. Naturally, none of the links in said email worked, and we had to install the patch ourselves for our whole company. John was too busy - so I crafted a simplified email, attached the patch, and explained to everyone how to do it themselves. Most everyone was able to make it through with minimal fuckups, but there were those that couldn't find their way out of a straight-line maze who kept me on the phone and away from my desk 'til 11:30. I'll share a few of those with you so the next time you see your I.T. person chain-smoking outside or banging their head against the wall, you'll understand why. This is the downside of being a computer geek.

* My favorite had to be the woman that decided to print the instructions from the email so that she could follow them as she went. Remember, the instructions were, basically, click the icon and launch. I sat while she read down the page, then looked around her cube, confusion on her face. "Where the icon?" she asked me. Oh yes. She did.

* Not two seconds after the email went out, I heard, rising up from the maze of cubes, "When I click it I get this error message..." Which translates into "Shanna, come help me." I get over there and ask her if she read the entire email. "Yes". Then why was she clicking on the icon for Windows 2000 when she's running Windows NT? My instructions not only said to check and see which operating system you had, they gave two different sets of instructions on how to find out. (Because you wouldn't believe the people that just call and go "I don't know what system I'm using. How do I find out?")

Side bitch:
There is this subset of people in the computer world who have no earthly idea what operating system they are using, so when asked, simply blurt out the first one that comes into their head. A guy on the phone yesterday told me he was running "Win 2000", when he brought his laptop in today he was running "Win 95". I could not count on my fingers (and toes) the number of people that just randomly pick an operating system when asked what they're running. Any i.t. tech reading this is laughing their ass off right now because they know wtf I'm talking about. I used to think they just really thought they were running whatever they blurted out. No, after asking a few times, they always say "Oh, I don't know which one I'm running." Then why didn't you just say that instead of naming one off the top of your head?! Huh?

* I had at least four people today call me because they had to be signed on as an Administrator to run the patch. Ok - not a problem. I walked them through doing this, but when it came time for them to sign on again as themselves, not a one of them could remember their sign-on name. They never look at it - just type their password in every morning without thinking. "Do you know it?" they ask me. How would I know your sign-on name? I don't say that; I'm extremely nice and patient (I wait to vent on here..muwahaha!). Thankfully they, eventually, all remembered their sign-ons.

But as the day comes to a close, I remind myself that I love my job. Well, that I really like my job , and the laughs I get it from it make the aggravating parts worth it. Right? More importantly, I remind myself that is is Friday!! And if I didn't have an aggravating, make-me-want-to-pull-my-hair-out-sometimes type of job, I wouldn't appreciate Friday like I do. So here's to jobs that make us appreciate Friday!! Hope you all have a kickass weekend.



- shanna bared her soul & griped a bit @ 1:58 PM
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Thursday, September 11, 2003

The other day I was reminded of a perfume I had once loved. My friend used to work at The Body Shop and would always bring home oils, perfumes, body lotions, etc for us to try out. Now, I'm not a perfume-person. I'm not really a cosmetic person at all. I know most women have their assorted lotions, oils, creams, make-ups, etc that they buy and have and rub on their person 24/7. I was never into all that mess.

Most perfumes are too...well, let's be frank...too girly for me. Too fruity, too sweet, to flighty, to feminine. Not that I'm not feminine. But fresh, flowery, airy scents don't work for me; nor do over-powering, over-perfumed scents. I'd never found "my scent". Then Qweeda brought home a sample of Mari Mari. I fell in love! I'd never smelled anything more pleasing to my senses. It was a heady, musky smell with a hint of exotic flower. It was warm and passionate. It was me. She left me with bunches of samples, and I never got around to going and buying the actual perfume.

Since I'm not a cosmetically-inclined gal, I stopped wearing perfume all together after awhile. I'm just lazy. Seriously, my make-up bag consists of eyeliner (one gray and one brown) and 2 or 3 tubes of stay-on lipstick. (Rimmel London's 1000 Kisses are affordable and 1000 x's better than any of their more expensive stay-on-forever counterparts). I do not wear foundation or powder; I think they make you look fake and plastic. Yet the other day, I found an old sample of Mari Mari lying around and decided to order the perfume from the website (The Body Shop closed down here in Baton Rouge).

They discontinued it. No plans to re-issue it anytime soon. What's a one-love-perfumed girl to do? Hit Ebay! I really didn't expect anyone to have any for sell. Imagine my surprise to see two different auctions for Mari Mari Eau de Toilette. I'm expecting my 5 oz. bottle to arrive some time next week. I'd rather the straight up perfume, but I'll take what I can get.

Which got me thinking about products and cosmetics. Everyone has their favorites and the ones they swear by. I'm not one of those women that's fussy about such things, and I buy my make-up cheap and from Wal-Mart, but I do have my preferred brands.

Bath gel - The Healing Garden
The most expensive thing I buy. Before I found this stuff I was content lathering myself up with Equate shower gel. Sometimes I'd splurge on Herbal Essences; only hoping to reach the orgasm that the women in the commercials have. I got a package of The Healing Garden bath gel and lotion one year for Christmas - and was hooked. They have a very potent smell. I've used the Tangerine Therapy, just finished trying out Lavendartherapy and am now on Green Teatherapy. This stuff is the bomb. I don't mind spending the extra $ because the smell invigorates me so. I should be writing a commercial.

Lipstick - Rimmel London 1000 Kisses
The first time I bought this lipstick, I only grabbed it because of the cost (right at $4) and the color. I didn't even realize it was a "stay-on" lipstick (which I prefer). Most lipsticks like that dry your lips out so that they flake and peel or you feel as if you've just applied a hardening glaze. This stuff stays on longer than those others, doesn't dry out...and it's *cheap*! The colors are cool, too.

Eyeliner - Jane or Rimmel London
Both are reasonably priced. 'Nuff said.

Yeah...and that's it. That's the only products I (somewhat) faithfully use. Try 'em out, tell me what you think. What are some of your favorite products?


- shanna bared her soul & griped a bit @ 12:40 PM
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Alright, so I went to the memorial service. And I'm glad that I did. I feared it would be too painful to remember; it was a tragedy I didn't want to revisit. But I suppose it's good that we do. So many people are still affected by this - so many people are still suffering. I still hope that in the years to come the services will change. Our office handled this one well. There were no pictures of the carnage; and I think that was good. We know what happened - no one can forget those images. But that's not how we need to remember. That's the point I was trying to make earlier (and couldn't quite seem to get out). We need to honor these people as mothers, fathers, sons, daughters, brothers, sisters...the firefighters and policemen...real people. We need to remember 9/11 for the lives lost, the lives ruined. I'm glad I attended, and I'm glad that it was held.


- shanna bared her soul & griped a bit @ 7:39 AM
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You can't let today pass without, at least, a nod at what it's the anniversary of. I've got a few things to say on it; some people will disagree with me, I'm sure...but these are my 9-11 thoughts.

It's akin to the J.F.K. assassination - everyone remembers where they were when they heard. On September 11, 2001 I was at work. There was some buzz around the office about a plane hitting the World Trade Center - a retired Naval officer told us, on such a clear day, such a thing could not be an accident. Then someone came running in to say that a second plane had hit. Everyone was in shock. Next thing you knew, people were on the phone, radios were on, and we were calling out to each other things we learned. No one was working. Some administrators had TV's in their offices, and people were crowded in and watching them. A group of women were in a back room, holding hands and praying...and crying. There was a collective silence in the room when we heard each of the towers fell...the slow dawning of all the people on the ground around it. The full scope of it was beginning to be understood. We learned, during the chaos, that the planes were passenger planes and it was terrifying. Later that day the lights went out in our building and a pregnant woman passed out and had to be taken away in an ambulance. When I got home, I got drunk on a bottle of red wine. My computer was down and I had no TV back then, so I didn't see any of the actual footage for a few days. The first time I saw it was two days later, on a business trip to Shreveport. I turned on the television in my hotel room, and saw for the first time all of the footage in vivid color.

After a few weeks, I turned the television off. I just couldn't watch it anymore. It was depressing and sad, but time to move on. My Mom and sis stayed glued to the tube and watched every memorial, survivor story, and show on it. I'd drop by to visit and find them crying in front of the TV weeks after 9/11. I told them to stop...they were so depressed it wasn't even funny. Eventually, even they had to stop watching...and go on.

So that's my 9/11 story. Where were you?

As for September 11, 2003, I am ready to see life going on. I watched this amazing special on the Discovery Channel the other night about all the plans for the rebuilding of Ground Zero. It's going to be amazing...including two towers that will reflect the sun's light in a special way exactly on September 11 and at the exact time of the day the planes hit (think of it like a sun-dial). If you haven't, you should check out all of the plans that they have for the area. It's going to be pretty awesome.

This morning my office is holding a memorial service in honor of the date. I don't want to go. I went to the one year anniversary memorial service - that was appropriate. It was huge and terribly sad. I cried - everyone cried. Two years later, I am ready to move on. I remember what happened, I said a prayer for those that died and those that lost, and I'll light a candle in remembrance when I get home tonight. That's how I'd like to honor them. I don't want to go to another terribly heart-wrenching memorial service, see all of the pictures again and listen to the sad songs. It's depressing. That may seem wrong and cold, but it's how I feel. Of course I'd feel differently if I'd lost someone that day. But I didn't. And while I feel for those that did - I'd like to think over-blown memorial services aren't going to be held every year on this date. We need to look past that awful day and up towards the future. We should never forget - but we also shouldn't dwell on the pain and suffering. That's just how I feel. I may be wrong, but I stand by it.


- shanna bared her soul & griped a bit @ 6:29 AM
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Tuesday, September 09, 2003

I just wanted to say I love you all. I made my list, I checked it twice. 14 items in all. Automatically, I felt better. Just seeing everything written out in an organized format rather than a thousand thoughts racing around my brain with no end made a difference. I was surprised at just how much. Immediately I wanted to begin doing things on the list, just so I could scratch them off. As the day comes to a close, 7 of the 14 are complete and I feel great. I feel as if I got a lot accomplished, and I no longer am sitting here racking my brains over what I need to do and when....and never starting because I feel so overwhelmed. Even though some of the toughest things are still on there, it feels good to have made a dent in my load. My soulmate is the smartest man in the universe.

I also wanted to add...another thing to make you smile as your Tuesday dwindles down...this is definitely cause for celebration if it comes to be. A "Family Guy" movie?! Oh yeah.


- shanna bared her soul & griped a bit @ 2:27 PM
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What's wrong with people??

I try hard now not to be so cyncial. Not to be so hateful of my fellow man, but he makes it difficult. Assholes and idiots - everywhere.

I have a very strong sense of justice - of fairness and what is right or wrong. It's a strong Scorpion trait; we have our own strict and unqiue set of morals and beliefs about how things should be, and there's no swaying from that. It may apply only to us, but it is golden.

I'm sick of seeing people get fucked over for no good reason other than half the rest of the world is compromised of assholes and idiots.

For example, a good friend of mine recently got fired from his job because of something completely unfair and ridiculous. He accidentally spilled a little cola in some girl's hair. What, you're waiting to hear the rest of it? That's it. She ran crying to the supervisors, and he was terminated. Wtf?!

In another instance that proves murder should be legal, four women at my office got sick last Friday after eating chicken for lunch at the same place. Violently sick. Their supervisor called the restaurant and got the owner on the phone. Do you know what he said? "Yes, I knew the chicken was bad. I told them to distribute it anyway." Wtf?! For those of you, like myself, who have had food poisoning, this is beyond belief. They called the Board of Health on the restaurant, and I've begged them to follow up on it. Food poisoning like they had (one ended up in the hospital Saturday) could kill a child. What's wrong with people?!

And then to top it all off, I get a forwarded email at work with the subject line, "Please add your name to ban this film!"

I'm thinking, "Oh jeez, what now??"

This is the email:
Please don't allow this film in our theaters!!!!!

A disgusting film set to appear in America later this year depicts Jesus and his disciples as homosexuals! As a play, this has already been in theaters for a while. It's called "Corpus Christi" which means "The Christ Body." It's a revolting mockery of our Lord, and we can make a difference. That's why I am sending this e-mail to you.

Will you please add your name to the bottom of the list at the end of this e-mail? If you do, we will be able to prevent this film from showing in America. Apparently, some regions in Europe have already banned the film. All we need is a lot of signatures! Remember, Jesus said "Deny me on earth and I'll l deny you before my Father".

Hit forward, and when it comes up, delete any e-mail addresses, fill in who you want to send it to, scroll down to the last name (mine), and add yours to the list.

When it reaches 500 please send to: email removed

IF WE WORK TOGETHER WE CAN DO THIS.


I forwarded this email to my best friend, Brandon, who sent me back this (the more level-headed version of the actual play):

Try this on for size!

The New Yorker has called Terrence McNally "one of our most original
and audacious dramatists and one of our funniest." He is the author of
such critically acclaimed plays as Love! Valour! Compassion!, Master
Class, The Lisbon Traviata, and Frankie and Johnny in the Clair de Lune.
In Corpus Christi, McNally gives us his own unique view of the story of
Christ, and in doing so provides us with one of the most vivid and
moving passion plays written. McNally's controversial new play is an
affirmation of faith and a drama of such power and scope that it has
been called blasphemy by the religious right and hailed by audiences and
critics alike as one of his best and most poignant works to date.

Named one of the best plays of the year by Time magazine
The New Yorker has called Terrence McNally "one of our most original
and audacious dramatists and one of our funniest." He is the author of
such critically acclaimed plays as Love! Valour! Compassion!, Master
Class, The Lisbon Traviata, and Frankie and Johnny in the Clair de Lune.
In Corpus Christi McNally gives us his own unique view of the story of
Christ, and in doing so provides us with one of the most vivid and
moving passion plays written. McNally's play is an affirmation of faith
and a drama of such power and scope that it has been hailed by audiences
and critics alike as one of his best and most poignant works to date.

"One of McNally's best, most moving and personal works . . . His
updating of the Christ story is witty but not patronizing, as sober and
cleansing as a dip in baptismal water."-Richard Zoglin, Time

"Corpus Christi provides a frequently fascinating experience. . . .
[It] explores a quest for faith by a segment of the
population-homosexuals-that has for centuries been excluded and
condemned by the pious God-fearing."-Erik Jackson, Time Out New York

"Terrence McNally's controversial new play is a moving, perhaps even
spiritual experience."-Dick Schaap, ABC World News

Terrence McNally won Tony Awards for Love! Valour! Compassion! and
Master Class as well as Tony Awards for Best Book of a Musical for
Ragtime and Kiss of the Spider Woman. In addition, Love! Valour!
Compassion! won the Drama Desk, Outer Critics Circle, and New York Drama
Critics' Circle awards for Best Play. McNally has received two
Guggenheim fellowships, a Rockefeller grant, and a citation from the
American Academy of Arts and Letters.


Personally, I can't wait to see it! It sounds like a beautiful, spiritual work of art and I love plays. (Didn't you know my second calling, after writing, was in theater?) I hope the conservatives & christians don't get it banned. It alludes me why they can't just leave things like this alone. If you don't want to go and see it then don't. But don't ban others from having the opportunity to see it. Some people want to base their opinions on the work only after actually viewing it. I'll let you know what I think of it then. I'm not going to rally to ban something without the full story; no one should.

While this doesn't fall into the category of "idiots and assholes", I still have a problem with people trying to control others with their personal beliefs. Just my two coppers.


- shanna bared her soul & griped a bit @ 10:37 AM
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So the ex was a no-show. While this is good, I'm pissed that he didn't even have the decency to call and say he wasn't coming. I'm not surprised - in fact, I assumed as much - but still. Does he not consider that I might've had other plans I could've been carrying out had I not been sitting and waiting to see if he'd call or show up? He might've, but his life and plans are always more important. He is the epitome of selfishness; never thinks about anyone but himself and never considers how his actions might affect others. And he can't figure out why no one likes him. Go figure.

Enough of that; I'm done with it. I've half a mind to call his cell today and ream his ass out for being such a selfish prick. But what's the point? He'll call in a few days, or a few months, needing something again regardless. Maybe he'll call to tell me he has the $120 he owes Baret. Wait, excuse me while I stop laughing. Fucking jerk. It's amazing how much you can hate someone you geniunely care about.

My mind is on this roller-coaster of insanity. This brain of mine is normally a conglomerate of random thoughts, numbing stress, dreamy reveries, half-assed contemplations, oddball notions, and overwhelming anxiety all zipping by at the speed of light. I'm used to the din, but lately I can't seem to keep the volume down to a bearable level and I'm feeling a bit snowed under. I keep waiting for a knight in shining armor to sweep down and erase all of my troubles...or at least help me quiet them. But this is the real world, and I've got to come up with a better solution for dealing with the pressure of too-many-things-to-do and not-enough-time-to-do-them. I was discussing this feeling of exhaustion and caving in with my soulmate...and he came up with the most simple solution. It was so simple, at first, I thought it couldn't work. But the more I thought about it, the more sense it made. (It's why I love him so) He said to just make a list - make a list of all my priorities and pressures - and scratch them off as I do them. The literal scratching out will make me feel less burdened and I'll be able to put all the stuff in perspective by listing it out one by one, rather than just have all these random things to do floating around in my head. It's brilliant. Usually the most profound answers are the most simple ones.

Now it's just a matter of getting off my lazy, procrastinating ass, making the list and carrying out everything on it. This is easier said than done - I get daunted pretty quickly these days. The whole being-on-crutches-for-over-a-year and fighting so hard to be able to walk again is really taking a toll on me. It takes more of my mental and emotional fight than most people realize. There's not a lot left over to handle the normal, everyday bullshit that life throws at you. No one understands what this is like, and what it takes to get through it every day. Being faced with the possibility of being a cripple for life sort of takes it out of you. I can't describe it to anyone who hasn't experienced it. I feel blessed to have been able to face something like this - it's made me a different person - I only hope I have the strength to make it through the lesson and learn all it's meant to teach me.

There's also the new-roommate-boyfriend-thing. That was in the post that got zapped into the black hole of cyber space. Baret got hired back at the agency I work for. He used to work here; actually that's how we met. I'd gone to Lafayette to give a training class on "Using Your Laptop" and he was there. He thought I looked cute, curled up in his bosses' chair, reading a book and eating Pringles (it was lunch) and he came and introduced himself. He offered to take me to the store to get some cigs, as I hadn't brought my pack, and we just talked and talked. We hit it off immediately. I thought he was the just the cutest, most handsome little thing. This 5'4", 99 lb guy with a slight Cajun accent who liked jazz, cigars and fine red wine. Although we broke up this past February, we stayed in touch, and things sort of moved back into this dating-thing. I considered us "seeing each other", he considered us "getting back together". If it weren't for a few key elements, I wouldn't mind getting back together with him, but now that he's moving in, that's exactly what it is. We're "exclusive" again - we're not dating, not seeing each other, we're boyfriend and girlfriend. And I honestly don't know how I feel about that. I guess you could say monogamy isn't my thing these days. Not that I want to sleep around or become a slut all of a sudden - just that I like having the option out there to be with someone else if I want to. He doesn't jive with open relationships, however, and I'm stuck with someone that doesn't satisfy all of my (many) needs. I love Baret, don't get me wrong, and I love being with him. But being with "just" him isn't where I'm at right now. I guess that's harsh, but it's the truth. Now if it were just that easy to tell him.


- shanna bared her soul & griped a bit @ 6:57 AM
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Monday, September 08, 2003

You know it's a Monday when you get a $0.99 Jr. Bacon Cheeseburger from Wendy's for lunch, and bring it back to your desk only to realize you have no Lactaid. It's a lactose intolerant person's worst nightmare; or, at least, biggest aggravation. My delicious, juicy, drool-worthy burger is cooling in the refrigerator while I sustain myself on pretzels and 8am-stale-popcorn.

But that's Monday for you.

Hope everyone had a great weekend. Mine consisted of passing out early on Friday night; as in 9pm early. I'm such a geek; I was really down and depressed, though, so I have an excuse. Saturday I got up at 5am and got online - and met some really cool guy with whom I chatted for two hours about spirituality and psychic powers. That was cool. It was interesting, because I'd just sat down to read some more on Rob Brezsny's Free Will Astrology site. I found it Friday evening, just before leaving work, and was blown away. I love his writing style, and his topics touched and rekindled all of my spiritual fires. I ordered his book (even though he offers it free on his website - showing he's a true artist and messenger) after only being on his site thirty minutes. If you like a little William-Blakeish/Kerouac-esque esoteric mumbo jumbo, you might be into this. I highly recommend checking it out.

Around noon, my Mom called. "I just read your blogger," she said. Now, I know Mom reads my blogger (Hi, Mom!), and loves it, but the first thought that ran through my head was "Omfg, did I say something I shouldn't have?! Did I piss someone off?!" Instead, her next sentence was "You heard from Spoon? What do you mean an 'impending visit'? What's going on??" My Mom is so cool. I explained to her, and to you now, that he (Spoon/aka "the ex") had called me last week out of the clear blue. Perhaps, not so clear - I'd dreamt about him getting in touch with me twice the week before, which meant he was thinking about me and about to do that very thing. I'd rather not see him and rather not talk to him - in fact, I'd rather not have him in my life at all. But I do love the guy - we went through a lot together and I care about him - and I am, literally, the only person he has to come to when life gets him down. I told him I'd always be there for him, and I meant it. Even if he throws me into a state of topsy-turvy panic every time he comes around. You see, I'm not in love with him anymore and have absolutely no desire to be his girl ever again - but he was my first love and we were together a long time. There is this sort of "he's mine" still there; even though it's very small. I'm also an evilly jealous Scorpio. I don't like to hear him talk about other women. In fact, the last time we talked, he'd gotten in touch with me to tell me he'd fallen in love. After almost five years of our being broken up, he'd finally found someone else that he fell in love with. I would've been happy for him if the whole thing didn't sound so doomed-from-the-start (she's a 19 year-old, spoiled/Daddy's girl [his words] stripper). But it hurt me, too. I don't know why - it just did. I predicted this entire scenario back then, and my vision has come to bear fruit. Things aren't so great in his new loving-bliss and he needs someone to talk to, a shoulder to cry on and commiserate with him. So he calls me. Naturally. The problem with this is, I only ever hear from him when he needs something. Whether it be money, advice, sex or just a an ear to listen. And he knows this. He told me on the phone last week, when I agreed to let him come to my apartment, "You don't have to let me come over. I understand if you don't want to see me. You've always been there for me no matter what shit was going on in my life. You're the only one - and I always use you and shit on you." It still doesn't stop him from doing it.

Anyway, I haven't heard from him yet today - and this Monday evening was the proposed date of his arrival. Perhaps he forgot, or something else came up. I can only hope. I'm not comfortable talking about him these days; it's like a scar that never stops itching. I would rather rip out my fingernails than listen to him talk about his current love life; luckily I'm quite good at pretending to pay attention whilst my mind wanders elsewhere.

Saturday evening my bestest friend in the whole world, Brandon, my sister and her boyfriend and my brother all got together at my apartment for some beer and pizza and fun. We had a nice time, even being such a motley crue of an assembly.

I went to bed early (around 11pm) and got up earlier on Sunday morning so I could go and visit my soulmate. That made everything okay - the depression I've been feeling and the impending visit with the ex. Baret came over Sunday evening, we grilled some shish-kabobs and watched this very interesting show on medieval weapons on the History Channel.

A nice weekend - but, as always - entirely too short. Think of me this evening; I might need it.


- shanna bared her soul & griped a bit @ 1:49 PM
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Friday, September 05, 2003

Do you know what I do when something I'm working on goes up in a puff of smoke?

Nothing.

When I'm working on a story/essay/thought/gripe and MS Word just decides to have an "Internal Error" and zap me back to my desktop, not even bothering to come back with a backup of my work...I abandon whatever it is I was writing on. If I'm typing an email and suddenly lose it (this has happend), I never re-type it, I never respond; I do nothing.

I've no idea where this apathy in finishing something that is lost comes from. But if it up and disappears, I lose all interest in it.

So it is with great pain that I do the same thing here - because I really needed some advice. Maybe tomorrow I'll feel like rehashing. For now, I've moved on. Tomorrow, tomorrow I'll post about the impending visit with "the ex" and my soon-to-be-new-roomie-and-possible-boyfriend. Ugh. Could we just fast-foward to next weekend?

As for tonight, my Friday evening looks not very promising. Baret, my usual weekend-buddy, is walking in a wedding in Lafayette. (I swear, I don't know what's up with those coonasses, already this year he's walked in two weddings, become a godfather at a baptism, and attended a funeral). I have no money (only because I don't have my ATM card with me), no food and no liquor in the house. No, I take that back - I don't have food I want or my liquor of choice in the house. My friends are having a little get together down the road and I'm feeling too anti-social to attend..plus I'm not fond of freeloading off their booze. The upcoming visit by the ex has me frazzled...I just want to be at home.

So it's looking like red wine alone and the thousandeth viewing of Practical Magic for me. Oh, shut-up, I love that movie. When I first moved in here, I'd get drunk on red wine and watch it almost every night with my friend, Patrick. (He doesn't like it - he was just hoping the wine buzz would kick in enough to let him get frisky with me).

Anyway, off to come up with some indigenous way to haul a bottle of red wine and a wine glass up the stairs (the VCR is on the TV up here). You get pretty creative living in a loft apartment with crutches, let me tell you. My backpack has replaced my arms for holding things, and I've gotten some very nimble fingers from grasping onto things whilst still holding the sticks. In fact, if you ever want some buff upper arms, walk on crutches for a year. My muscles are so big I like to joke that I look like a linebacker on estrogen. Anyways,, peace, love and wine my friends. Have a great weekend.


- shanna bared her soul & griped a bit @ 5:46 PM
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I, like Shy Lux, have been fucked by Blogger. I wrote this l-o-n-g post with things I really needed to hear feedback on, hit "Post & Publish" and...blam! Nothing.

I take it back, Lux - you weren't the only one with the pleasure of being ass-raped by Blogger today. -sigh-


- shanna bared her soul & griped a bit @ 12:49 PM
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Thursday, September 04, 2003

Bless Joe's little homosexual heart for giving me something to do while I'm sitting here waiting to be let from the prison of my house. Interview time! I knew he'd ask some kickass questions, and he did not disappoint.

Here are the rules:
1. If you want to participate, leave me a comment saying "interview me." Make sure you leave an email address where I could send questions to you.
2. I will respond by asking you five questions - each person's will be different.
3. You will update your blog with the answers to the questions.
4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview others in the same post.
5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.

Here is the Q&A:
1) What is your favorite tv show as of late and what character do you identify with the most?

Gods, I’m going to get teased for this…lol. I don’t watch regular TV, so I only ever catch stuff in syndication. I was watching Golden Girls faithfully every day after work…and always identified most with Dorothy (with Blanche’s sexual appetite, of course). But one day I started watching Charmed on TNT and now I’m hopelessly hooked. I identify the most with Phoebe (Alyssa Milano’s character), b/c she’s impetuous and passionate like myself.

2) A childhood memory that makes you shudder is...

The whole church thing! I was a very precocious and curious child and the whole concept of a god that sent you to burn in hell for your sins (which was basically everything you did or wanted to do) terrified me. I was absolutely horrified of the devil. I went through a period where I couldn’t sleep at night and wouldn’t sleep at friends houses b/c I thought everyone was the devil out to get me; my parents actually had to schedule counseling for me with the preacher! It was awful. To this day, I think it’s a terrible, terrible thing to teach a child (sorry to all my Christian friends).

3) When I play the OUIJA board, my experiences usually entail...

Giggling too much to have anything worthwhile happen. Though once we apparently contacted the spirit of this little girl that lived in my sister’s bedroom. If you put it with all the other creepy things that happened to my sis in that room, it actually made sense. But that reminds me of a funny Ouija board experience. I used to get my hair done by this uber-religious-charismatic-christian woman (I was about 13/14). I happened to just mention to her whilst she was chopping at my hair that we’d played with a Ouija board the night before at a slumber party. URCCW freaks out. She calls all the girls that were at the slumber party, tells them to pray and beg for god’s forgiveness, then tells me to take the thing out in the yard (I still remember her telling me in a shrilly voice, “But don’t touch it!”) and burn it. It was still at the friend who’d had the slumber party’s house, and she was terrified. She called me up, begging me to come and get “this thing”. She handed it to me from her front porch, with a towel between her hands and the evil board. Hehehe…I went home and put it back in the box, laughing.

4) What smell makes you feel the most nostalgic?

Fresh cut grass. Reminds me of the summers as a child – they were the best. My grandparents lived on a quiet street, and there were always new kids moving in and out of the other homes – so we always had a group of “neighborhood kids” to play with. My grandparents also had a huge swimming pool. We’d swim all day long, then run around in the front yard all day…I remember lying in the grass in the evening, trying to catch my breath, looking at up the stars, and smelling all the fresh, green grass around me. That’s what being a kid is to me. Grass stains, out of breath and hoarse from running around like maniacs playing chase and screaming surrounded by the smell of fresh, cut grass.

5) If you could secretly murder someone and get away with it, who would it be?

Great question! Where do I start?! No, no…seriously. That would have to be my ex’s first boyfriend after we broke up (my ex was bi). I didn’t mind him having a boyfriend (it was better than a girlfriend), but we’d just recently broke up and it hurt. Still, I was willing to be cool with said boyfriend, until he totally went off on my ex in front of me about me and called me a “bitch”. He later, when my ex started hanging out more with me again, decided to tell a big, fat lie to my ex that he was HIV+…just to try and get him to come back to him. That’s not a joking matter; and it scared the living shit out of both of us. We later found out it wasn’t the first time he’d used this line…that queen has it comin’.

****
Thanks, Joe! Those were fun.


- shanna bared her soul & griped a bit @ 8:12 AM
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Update

My boss seemed to believe me when I called in...just asked that I call when I was on my way in. The appointment was rescheduled for Oct. 30, which is actually not such a terrible thing since I didn't know how I was going to pay for the co-payment anyway. I have -$ right now. Literally.

I'm going to use this time-away-from-work to be productive (more of that growing up/adult shit, damn). Will work on the growing number of websites I've been hired to do. Maybe if this web design thing I do on the side kicks off I can quit my job. Wouldn't that be bliss? Working for myself I'd be free to do all the colorful, freaky things I'd like to try out with my hair (I'm a nut for trying different styles/colors....at least I was before I started working for the state). I've sort of grown out of getting all the extraneous piercings, but getting a few more tats is definitely in the cards. It would just be nice to have no one to answer to but myself.


- shanna bared her soul & griped a bit @ 6:34 AM
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I cannot fucking believe this.

I heard the trucks outside when I woke up...wait, let's back up. Last week they started to redo the road I live on. This is good - it had more holes in it than a chunk of Swiss cheese. However, they would come back on random days and pour oil all over the road. This is not good. The first day they left notes on everyone's car, so I was able to move mine in time and not get stuck. This is good. However, today they have come to finish the job...no note. This is not good.

I went outside and saw both ends of the street (it's extremely small) were blocked off by machinery, and men were going down and putting nails in the ground along a length of string. I realized I would not be leaving for awhile. The guy I asked said they'd be here "oh, 'bout a couple of hours". This is splendid. Not only will I be missing, at least, half a day of work (when I've, finally, been doing so good about saving up my time so I could take a mini-vacation on my birthday in November), I have to cancel a doctor's appointment that took almost three months to get (I scheduled it in July).

Don't you just hate calling in to work with shit like that? "Um, yeah, I can't come in b/c they're redoing my street and I'm blocked in. Don't know for how long, hopefully only "'bout a couple of hours"." I always feel like they're going to think I'm lying...that I'm really just hungover or something and blowing off my responsibility. -sigh- "No, I swear, I'm trapped in my home...can I reschedule that appointment anytime sooner than three months from now?"

Let's hope this day gets better...

On a sidenote, this is one of those times I realize I have become an adult, am no longer a Toys R' Us kid, and am quite bothered. I'm upset that I can't get to work. Years ago that would've been a cause for celebration. Jeez, I'm getting old! Where's the Pause button?!


- shanna bared her soul & griped a bit @ 5:49 AM
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Wednesday, September 03, 2003

Due to the worm/virus crap that has been going on so much lately, they've blocked a lot of our Internet access here at work. Including the ability to get into online email accounts. I did most of my emailing from work (I don't get on the computer much at home anymore - I go through spurts), so if you haven't heard from me in awhile via email, this is why.

I'm not in the best of moods today. You see, this used to be a very bad time of year for me. The week leading up to the dreaded date of September 7. Me and this date don't have a very good past together.

It all began on Labor Day, 1998 (Sept. 7 that year). We lost my grandmother. While this in itself was devastating - what made it worse for me was that I was not there. My ex and I had gone to his hometown in Arkansas - a little mini-vacation - except that it was on a whim and we didn't tell anyone about it. I won't go into the details, or even explain the extreme psychic warnings that plagued me throughout the trip (that I ignored because I didn't know any better then). By time we returned (around 4am) and called my family (there was a note on the door), she was dead, the wake had been the night before, and we had to be at the funeral in a few hours. We'd been on the road for 14+ hours and it was like a nightmare; very surreal. I'd missed her wake - I'd missed her death - I'd missed all of the family pulling together at that time. I was very close to my grandmother; in fact, I'm just like her. She was the only person in the world who ever truly understood me and all my strange quirks. She was also the first person I was very close to that had ever died. I really sort of lost a few grips on reality at that time.

Fast-forward to a year later. The ensuing year was pure hell for me and the ex, another thing I need not go into. By time Labor Day weekend rolled around once more, we were basically penniless and squatting in a friend's abandoned house. September 7 was a day I was dreading - the one year anniversary of Mo-Mo's death. My ex broke up with me on that day - the man I had lived with for 4 years; my first love; the man I was spiritually married to (yes, we had a ceremony). He was all the adult life I'd known - we'd been together since I was 18. Now, at 22, I had nothing and no one - and had hit rock bottom.

Needless to say, though I've picked myself back up and made a wonderful life for myself, that time of year is very hard on me. Every year since, when September 7 would roll around, I'd go into a deep depression the entire week before and the day of. One year I even slipped back into my old addiction of self-mutilation (to this day, those are my worst scars). Last year, however, I was so caught up in all the surgeries with my knee, the date passed almost unnoticed. I realized it didn't affect me as it once did. I have made peace with my grandmother - she is still with me, and forgives me for missing her wake (and asked me to forgive myself, as well). I have gotten over her death and know that she is happy where she is now. I have gotten over my ex; as well as anyone ever gets over their first love. He'll always haunt me, but it's not something that destroys me anymore. I've learned to let go of that painful past, and all the hell we went through.

So today, when I realized I was feeling the beginnings of being depressed, I wondered if it was because Sept. 7 was coming. Even though I've grown past that time and much of that pain, could the conditioning of being depressed this time of year for the past 4-5 years have made its way into my subconscious? Am I just down because of stress at work...or is it really because of that dreaded date looming near? I'd like to think that Sept. 7 is no longer a problem for me; no longer something to fear/dread/rage against. I thought it wasn't...but in light of my current mental state, could I be wrong? Can one overcome the painful memories of a particular date...especially one that used to mess me up as that one did?

In parting, I'd like to say that just writing this out, and sharing that pain, has made me feel better. Perhaps this year I will finally conquer the demons of Sept. 7 - and next year it can be...just another day.


- shanna bared her soul & griped a bit @ 6:36 AM
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It's 6:30am and my brain isn't functioning yet. Rose has been kind enough to jump me back into the interview game, and here are her instructions (b/c I can't think well enough to formulate them into my own words):

The Rules:
1. If you want to participate, leave me a comment saying "interview me." Make sure you leave an email address where I could send questions to you.
2. I will respond by asking you five questions - each person's will be different.
3. You will update your blog with the answers to the questions.
4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview others in the same post.
5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.

So, courtesy of Rose:

1) If you could only eat three things for the rest of your life, what would they be? Combination foods like pizza are allowed, however, only certain combinations of ingredients. For example, pepperoni and mushroom pizza with extra cheese is one thing, mushroom and onion pizza is a second thing. Beverages do not have to be included here, and nutrition is not a factor... just remember that you've got 50 years ahead of you of only eating three things... and why?

That’s a tough one, b/c I love food. I would have to choose straight-up pepperoni pizza as one – b/c I never tire of it; no matter what - it’s my absolute favorite food. Fried shrimp is another thing I could eat and eat and not want for anything else, so that would be #2, and ham and melted cheese croissants b/c that’s near taste-bud perfection.

2) What is the most rewarding nature experience you've had in your lifetime, and why? This could include viewing a spectacular mountain range, seeing an exotic animal (in the wild, not in a zoo) or the smell of the air in a bracing ocean breeze.

It was actually when my then b/f took me out to a field across from his house on his 3-wheeler. We parked under this huge, beautiful oak tree and I felt compelled to get out and touch it – there was no sound out here but the wind rustling through the field and the leaves of this tree. I realized that living in the city, I was never in nature anymore and I suddenly missed it with an ache. I no longer knew the simple pleasures of grass under my feet and the shade of gorgeous trees. I walked up to the tree and put my hand on it – and immediately said, “This tree is dead.” I don’t know how I knew this – it just came out, but I, somehow, knew that there was no longer any life force in the tree. I walked around to the other side and was surprised to see a deep, black gash – it had been struck by lightening and was, indeed, dead. When I was younger and in nature all the time, I was able to feel the life force of everything; this was a reminder to me of my gift and a gentle prodding that I needed to get back to Nature.

3) If you could be any flavor of ice cream, what flavor would you be and why?

It’s sound so cheesy, but Neapolitan. Not just b/c it’s my favorite, but b/c of the diversity of it. Is it vanilla, chocolate or strawberry – or is it all three? That’s me in a nutshell…lol.

4) What was your first car, how long did you have it, and why did you get rid of it?

Even though I first drove my parent’s old ’87 Ford Tempo, I don’t count that as my first car. It sat up, broken, in the garage more than it was on the road. After I started college (1996), my grandpa bought me a ’95 Toyota Tercel – and I loved that little car. It was two-door, white and cute. I got it in February, but when I left/got kicked out (there is still debate in my family on just how this went down…let’s clarify it here, they kicked me out) in November of that same year, they took it back. After I moved to Cali, I was told they sold it as a down payment on a car for my grandpa (which was cool).

5) Have you ever felt you had a memory from a past life? If so, what is it? Some people believe an unexplained fear of heights or water, an aversion to a certain kind of food, or a feeling of being inexplicably drawn to another soul, are indicative of previous life memories.

I wish I could say I had this amazing revelation one day of a past life, but there are only little things. I would love to know all about my past lives. I once watched a movie where a girl was kidnapped, taken out to a deserted area, beaten and raped, then killed – and it affected me in the strangest way. I knew exactly what this girl felt – the fear…all of it. It got me so upset, I was shaking and crying. Since nothing even remotely similar has ever happened to me in this life, and things like that don’t bother me, I wondered if I had met a similar demise in a past life. There are things that have happened that point to this as being true, also that I needn’t mention here. I feel very strongly that I did die this way once. When I met my soulmate, I knew from the start that we’d known each other before…in fact, we knew one another without even “knowing” one another, if you know what I mean. It wasn’t “how nice to meet you”, it was more like “oh, it’s you”. When I meet people I have past karma with, I can usually feel it right off.


- shanna bared her soul & griped a bit @ 4:38 AM
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Tuesday, September 02, 2003

Random thoughts...

Love is in the Air
It's lovebug season again - which really only means you'll have to wash your car every day if you want to use your headlights through the black veil of dead lovebug bodies completely covering your car. But on this particular lovebug season (which we're blessed with twice a year), I have some questions.

First, is this a Southern thing? Or does the entire nation, or world even, have to deal with lovebugs?

Second, and this has always bugged me - how is a lovebug born? I mean, for weeks you see thousands of little bugs shamelessly shagging the living shit out of each other non-stop. But have you ever seen a lovebug nest? A lovebug egg, perhaps? Even better, ever seen a lovebug baby? Do they just magically appear after the parents separate? Do they incubate during the summer and winter months just to be born to fuck in the spring and fall, and then die? Then where are they incubating?! As you can see, this is something that has bothered me for some time. Help me.

Simple pleasures
Could Cool Ranch Doritos possibly be the greatest chip ever created? Sources point to yes. (Actually, first they said "Answer unclear - come back later").

The Itsy Bitsy Spider
I let a spider live today. First of all, I'm not one of those women that gets weak-kneed and shrilly at the sight of an insect (unless it's a cockroach - and then I curse like a sailor and throw heavy objects at it). But today a particularly creepy looking specimen of the arachnid persuasion was crawling around under my desk. I watched him for awhile, and thought that I should squash him - mainly so he wouldn't, later, inadvertently find his way up my pants leg (I have some strange bug-magnet that makes them, at some later time after spotting them, end up on my person). But I couldn't do it - the spider hadn't hurt anyone, and he does kill other insects that I'm less forgiving of. So I let the creepy, little spider live.

And then, as I thought about it, I had to laugh. I, who would beat the living crap of any moron that hits my car whilst talking on a cell phone: I, who admits that, if murder were legal, they wouldn't bat an eye at offing some of the more-asshole-ignorantly-inclined of the population; I, that likes to find new and interesting ways to kill people on Vice City as a stress-reliever...could not harm a bug.

Not that I'm a cold-blooded killer or anything, or that I even would really kill someone - but I find it amusing that the thought of hurting animals or bugs bothers me a great deal more than the thought of hurting another person does.


- shanna bared her soul & griped a bit @ 2:28 PM
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It isn't Monday, but it feels like Monday, and that's bad enough.

While most of my friends jet-setted to interesting locales for the holiday, Brandon and Jackie went to Chicago, John and Missy drove to Florida, and Rose went on a delightful sounding camping trip, I opted to stay home and spend Monday with my Mom.

See, Mom and I love to drive around - we love just going on strange, little road trips to strange, little places. We left my apartment around 10:30 am Monday morning and found ourselves in Livingston parish. For those of you not from around here, let me just say now...this is area is mainly made up of weird rednecks. What is a "weird redneck", you ask? Just spend a day driving around Livingston parish and you'll know.

For starters, I want someone, please, to tell me what in the hell this thing is?! Mom and I were driving past it, when I uttered an "omfg" and pointed. We were thoroughly creeped out and spent some time just trying to figure out why Cement Man had originally been put up. There's nothing around him, no signs or anything to indicate the reason for his presence. He resides on the corner of two roads around Oak Grove...I had nightmares of him walking around the field behind him at night, eating the flesh of young children who'd gone to mudride in there. -shiver-



Our day ended at Ruby Tuesdays, back in the "safety" of Baton Rouge. We spent a few hours just talking over watered-down, two-for-one beers before heading home.

Our Saturday night trip to Mulatte's was a blast. It ended up being me and Baret, my Mom and Dad, my brother and grandpa. The music was great, the food even better. It's an interesting place, with a "Wall of Fame" when you walk in the door - celebrities of note that had eaten there were Robert Palmer, Meg Ryan, Geraldo Rivera, and other people I can't remember. If you can imagine this place, it's a long, rectangle of a building, all wood, with about 30,000+ business cards stapled into the ceiling. I don't know why - it just was. You don't question things in Cajun country. Though the place was dingy and dirty, I have to say it was some of the best food I've ever eaten. It just goes to show, you can't judge a kitchen by the shack it resides in.

We were going to stay at my grandfather's for the night, but Baret really thought we could beat the traffic and get home. It was the 4th quarter of the game and about 10:30 pm; I wasn't so hopeful. Needless to say, as we came towards LSU, all roads going to my apartment were already blocked off and being redirected. Unwilling to stay in the clusterfuck of post-game traffic, we went to the casino downtown. Hey, free drinks. We played slots for 5 minutes (long enough to have a drink brought to us), then sat out on the deck and watched the traffic on the bridge until it dwindled. We didn't get home 'til 12:30 am, and there was no where to park. Thank goddess for Miatas...we just moved my car up on the sidewalk and parked Baret's behind me. -sigh- Two more Saturdays until the blessing of an away game is upon us.

With that, I'll leave you with another landmark of note Mom and I found on our travels: these wise words from a true-blue Southern Baptist church.


To note, "Little Prairie" Baptist Church is not located on a prairie - unless you call the corner of two major highways a "prairie". Also, I've found that kneeling on knocking knees really only makes you fall down.


- shanna bared her soul & griped a bit @ 8:07 AM
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