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


Whois


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

Need to know more?

One Million Blogs - Be One!

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


More

home

skatoolaki.com

MySpace profile

100 & 100 more things

Spam Recycled

Hotling Hilarity

email

RSS


Blogroll

Blogroll Me!


Rings

<< # Bitch Club ? >>

< # Blogging Bitches ? >

(~ waterblogged ~)

<-- ? In MY Opinion # -->

< ? off on a rant + >

True blue Scorpio


Archives

click to view all


Support/Fan of

Support
Stop This Country - Daryl Wants to Get Off

Show Your Support

      
Marriage is love.

Adagio Teas

Fan of
ATHF Fan

Brian Fan

Stewie Fan

Stewie vs Brian Fan

Love Bites Fan

Fae Fan

Pringles Fan

Angelina Jolie Fan

Law and Order SVU Fan

Everquest Fan

World of Warcraft Fan

The Sims 2 Fan

Neverwinter Nights Fan

Credits 'n Counters


Powered by Blogger

Weblog Commenting by HaloScan.com

Blogarama - The Blog Directory

Listed on Blogwise

free web tracker

 


Pet Projects

Star Suck

Fan Suck


Stuff


My blog is worth $14,113.50.
How much is your blog worth?

Thursday, October 30, 2003

They always said, "If you don't have anything nice to say..." I don't know necessarily know who they are, but they were right. (Aren't they always?) My bitchy gripe this morning (first post - scroll down) about the stupid people I work with has come back to bite me in the ass.

Yes, I sit high atop my lofty soapbox and bitch and whine about all the morons of the world - but when the shoe fits, I also have no problem wearing it.

Shanna, why did you miss your gyno appointment this morning? Well, because I went to the wrong building. The complete wrong building - wrong set of doctors; I don't even think these people handle my insurance. Why did I do this? Because some strange thought in my head had me believing that is where I should go. Do you ever do that? Have a thought and not know where it came from, and you just go with it? Don't do that.

But this is no problem, right? Just hop in the car and run on over to the correct building (half way across town). Well, that would be the logical thing to do if I hadn't locked my keys in my car!.

The girl at the front visitor desk was looking at me like I was on drugs. I wish I was - then I'd have an excuse for my momentary lapse of reason and common sense. "What's the doctor's name again?" she asks me. Already I'm knowing in my head that I'm at the wrong place. I said so, then asked if I could use her phone - "I locked my keys in my car." She couldn't have looked at me stranger if I'd of had a third arm growing out of my forehead. At that moment I could hear her thoughts, "This loopy bitch doesn't even know where her doctor's office is, and she's gone and locked her keys in her car. What the hell is she on?" I can just see her relaying the story to her friends tonight over frozen margaritas as they laugh. "Some people are so stupid."

I think I should just go home and dye my hair blonde. If the hair color fits...


- shanna bared her soul & griped a bit @ 9:42 AM
|




I got this email 3x's yesterday - which is amazing. It only took a few hours for the morons I work with to realize it was all bullshit.

My name is Bill Palmer, founder of Applebees. In an attempt to get our name out to more people in the rural communities where we are not currently located, we are offering a $50 gift certificate to anyone who forwards this email to 9 of their friends. Just send this email to them and you will receive an email back with a confirmation number to claim your gift certificate.

Sincerely
Bill Palmer
Founder of Applebees Visit us at: www.applebees.com

Hey guys,
DONT DELETE THIS EMAIL
It really works, I tried it and got my Gift certificate confirmation
number in 3 minutes.


You're a lying sack of shit. Because it is absolutely, 100%, without a doubt impossible for a forwarded email to cause anything to happen to your computer.

Let's be logical here - or try and pretend we have an ounce of common sense. How is sending out an email going to make another email appear in your Inbox? Think about it - I know most of you aren't very computer savvy, but this isn't a tough one. Do you believe that this magical email not only knows you've forwarded the email to exactly 9 of your poor friends, but also notifies Applebee's email account with your correct email address and then sends you this amazing certificate?

Too steep for you? Let's dumb it down, then. Forget the computer. Are you dim-witted enough to believe that Applebee's is going to give a $50 GIFT CERTIFICATE to every nine people that send out an email? Do you realize how much money this would cost them? (I'm no math whiz, but we're talking about their shelling out $450 an email!) Do you think they really are using this as some sly marketing program to hook patrons in places they are "not currently located"?? What would be the point? Where is the profit? Have you ever eaten at Applebee's? Do you know how much you'd have to order to use $50? $50 people. Hello???.

Just for shits & giggles, I replied to the co-worker that first sent it to me (she's the one that talks like a 6-year old girl). "Did you get your certificate?" I asked, innocently.

"No," she wrote back. "It's all a big HOAX!"

No shit, sherlock.

There should be some type of law banning email access to idiots that forward moronic things like this. Anyone to second that motion?

Yes, I sound very bitter - but it's aggravating to have your Inbox filled up with nothing but junk and useless crap. This is my work email; I use it for work and to pass the rare and occasional really, funny joke. Some people use it to minister to everyone in the office and to praise their god (you know the ones), some people use it to drive others crazy, and some just obviously like to prove their stupidity. For whatever reason they send me all this bilge, it's aggravating as hell. Can I get an "Amen"?


- shanna bared her soul & griped a bit @ 7:45 AM
|




Wednesday, October 29, 2003

Let's have some random thoughts. My mind is kinda in that place right now, just random thoughts running through it. My randomness is pretty...well...random.

I'm so ready to go home. Damn this Seether album is good. I want to try brussel sprouts. I just realized I set up the time to go turn the old apartment keys in as the same time I have my doctor's appointment Thursday morning. I think I'm the only person other than my sister who still loves Bush. The band; don't be gross. I'm going to get a beta fish for my new office. It amazes me that I can look at Gilly's picture at my desk and not start crying. I'm wearing white socks today with my little brown shoes and I feel like a dork. I'm tired all the time lately. My friend is going to be a pot brownie for Halloween and I think that's hilarious. I need to throw away that tupperware container that's been on my desk for three months; it used to be grapes, but now I believe it has morphed into some mutant lifeform. If I keep it there long enough will I just have gooey raisins? I want to change the name of my blog from 'anima - a psyche exposed' to either 'bad girl' (from the Madonna song) or that Ashleigh Brilliant quote that I post on all my sites, "Strange as it may seem, this life is based on a true story." Perhaps, though, it would seem a tad too self-important to have an entire quote as a title. I went to the bathroom today and couldn't get my pants untied (damn little leather strings) and I almost peed on myself I had to go so bad. I think I think too much. What if I got rich marketing gooey raisins? Shanna's Ooey-Gooey Raisins has a nice ring to it. I'm still in love with the word 'pithy', but lately I've been cheating on it and using the word 'clusterfuck' much, much more. How can someone not like the word 'clusterfuck'? Sometimes I think of things to say just so I can use 'clusterfuck' in a sentence. Is it weird to love words? It's great to ramble non-sensically. Does it negate the ramble if you acknowledge the rambling? I think I'm the luckiest girl in the world to have found my soulmate. I read a joke today that said, "What do you call an intelligent, good-looking, sensitive man?" The answer was, "A rumor", but I would have to say, "My baby." I keep looking at the clock on my desk and it says 3:47 pm. And each time I get excited for just a second - and then I remember I just haven't set it back yet. But I'm too lazy to do it, so everytime I look over there I have this little shock of disappointment. Why do I torture myself so? My telling of that joke was probably the cheesiest thing I have said in close to three months. Do you know a female dragonfly is called a damselfly? Do you know that I tell people that little tidbit of information every few months or so; even if I've said it to them before? I have no idea why I do this.

Say something random.


- shanna bared her soul & griped a bit @ 6:21 AM
|




Tuesday, October 28, 2003

What in the hell is slash fiction? I've never heard the term 'til today. I looked up a few things on the Internet - but everything is blocked from work now, so I can't figure it out. Someone help me - one of my blogs came up with that as a "Related Search", and I'm thinking, "Wtf is that?"


- shanna bared her soul & griped a bit @ 9:02 AM
|




What are the chances of getting behind the same dumb bitch who likes to drive 10 mph under the speed limit on my new morning commute two days in a row? Obviously fairly high. Perhaps you don't like to get to work on time, but I do.

I'm such a bitch. Just slap me now. Why do I have to be such a mental case sometimes? I know, it's just the stress of moving and so many abrupt changes in my life suddenly. But damn.

I came home yesterday and Baret had all the lights in the house on and the TV blaring the news as he did his daily paperwork. Relaxing when I come home is very important to me; generally the drive home gets me in a state of nervous anxiety and I really need to just sit and relax. I couldn't. I hate overhead lighting used exclusively. And being the mental patient that I am, the lighting in a room directly affects my mental state. I couldn't relax in all the glaring lights and with the loud TV. I like candles and I always use lamps - I know it's stupid, but that's how I am. And as T-bone so poignantly pointed out in his yesterday post, a house is not a home. This place isn't home to me yet. My old place was, and I had no trouble relaxing. But I walk into this place, and Baret's doing his end-of-the-day-routine and it just hit home even harder than I no longer have "my life" but "our life". So I went into the bedroom, shut the door, turned on the lamp and lay in bed. I then cried because I missed my old, funky apartment.

Baret came in later, and seeing me all upset, said he'd go and turn off the lights, light some lamps and candles and make it all cozy. Cozy - cozy is good. I don't envy him having to put up with my emotional self; he really doesn't understand, but he tries sometimes to make it better. He then came back and announced that he was taking me out for sushi. We haven't done that in over a year, and we forgot how much you get when you order - so we ended up with ten times more sushi than we could eat. I called all my friends to come and help finish it off, but no one was home.

We came home, planning to light a fire and drink a bottle of wine he'd bought a few days earlier. But nothing is working out right lately. He couldn't get the fire started for a good while, I fell asleep (the clock may say 9pm, but my body still knows it's 10pm and that's my bedtime), and the wine was bad when we opened it (mildew all over the cork). Less than 10 minutes of sitting in front of the fire, we'd both passed out. So much for that first-fire-in-the-new-place, bottle-of-good-wine, really-good-first-time-sex-in-the-new-place that was all supposed to happen.

Ah, but such is life. I'm sure when the chaos of moving finally calms, when we start to get more settled, everything will be okay. It's caused quite a rift between us - and that's a scary feeling when you've just signed a year lease with someone in a place neither of you could afford alone. It's just me being my usual psychotic, sex-fiend Scorpion self causing all this; I know it.

Oh, and today is Paul's birthday. Go over and wish him a happy one. I know he likes to get mentioned, so that's my present to him. Paul and I see eye to eye on quite a few things, and this fellow Scorp has one of my favorite blogs. Check him out.

To the rest, have a great day.


- shanna bared her soul & griped a bit @ 6:34 AM
|




Monday, October 27, 2003

Hands down, folks, I have the greatest family in the world. Not only are they super-cool simply because they're so wacky and fun - but when it comes down to it and I need them, they are there for me more than I think I even deserve. Seriously, as my bud Shannan would say, they rawck.

We were moving Friday night - and as of Friday morning, we had not packed a thing. There honestly had been no time, with everything else we had to get done. We got the keys to the place Thursday night, and left them at the old apartment. My Mom and sister, Amber, came over mid-day Friday and started packing. They packed up my entire apartment - even labeling all the boxes - and had brought over half of my existence to the new place by time I got home at 4:45pm. Wow. My brother-in-law hauled over a good bit of the big furniture by himself before we got home as well. My brother, Johnnie, arrived just after we did and my Dad was just an hour behind. We got almost everything moved Friday night.

I woke up early Saturday and started unpacking the kitchen - not an easy feat when you're on crutches. My little brother showed back up and he and Baret got the rest of the old stuff moved over. So, the kitchen is done, the computer room is mostly done, the living room is half-ass done and the bedroom is livable. The guest bedroom came out really cute, too.

It is amazing how much my life has changed in the past two weeks. I'm pretty overwhelmed. We've been so busy I haven't really had time to take it all in yet and I'm afraid once things slow down and it all hits me, I'm going to flip out. It's just what I do. Though never officially diagnosed (unless you count the free clinic that just threw me on anti-depressants), I have my mental problems. I've battled depression since I was a teen, and my usual state is akin to an emotional roller coaster. I'm also a recovering self-injurer, and am pretty sure I'm either bipolar or just plain clinically depressed. So, I'm a little afraid of what I'm going to do when it starts to sink in that my life is not even slightly comparable to what it was just three weeks ago. Hopefully I won't freak out - but I'm a little worried. I haven't let myself grieve for Gilly yet - and it was very hard for me to leave my old place as I worked hard to get it. It was mine, and mine alone that no one helped me get. Now everything is "ours" and we're suddenly a two-cat family.

But, until then, I'm trying not to worry about it. I love my place!! I know I promised pictures, but I wanted to get things more set up before I showed it to you guys. Tonight is the first real cold snap since we've moved in (all of two days ago), so there will be a bottle of good wine being opened tonight in front of our new fireplace! Woot! I hope today flies by...

Our cable gets set up this evening, too, so I'll be able to rejoin the online world.

But this is My Life - and nothing is without it's drawbacks. At first, the only thing we found wrong in the new place (isn't there always something wrong in a new place?) was an outlet didn't work. It was the outlet next to my computer desk, so that bit. It turned out to be the least of our problems. Baret drew me a bath late Saturday night. I'd crashed so he left it sitting for a bit, and went downstairs. He heard this strange dripping noise and realized it was coming from inside the walls - directly under where the tub sits. He went and let the water out, came downstairs, and said it sounded as if someone was pouring a gallon bucket of water down the inside walls - water seeped out onto the floor and the new carpet. Not good.

So, the new house is amazing - we just can't bathe there yet. The landlord is going by today to have a look at it.

I'm very excited right now. My drive to work was nearly traffic-free, as my Dad pointed out a back roads way to get there. I get to work in exactly 10 minutes; not too shabby. We made it home Friday evening without much hassle - even though we'd been warned that traffic down the main highway we live near was horrendous. We lucky state workers get off at 4:30 - and we get home just before the traffic gets congested. That was the only thing I was really worried about.

Well, enough of this long ramble about moving in. I'm still a bit overwhelmed. I wake up in the mornings and think, "Do I live here? Wow." It's just so much nicer than where we were before. Hope this Monday flies for everyone!


- shanna bared her soul & griped a bit @ 6:27 AM
|




Friday, October 24, 2003

I don't know who in the hell Dennis or his son, Sean, are, but if they truly exist and I meet them, I'm going to beat the crap out of them.

I've gotten this email before. And every single time it appears in my box I let out a groan - because I know every fucking jackass and idiot out there is going to forward it to me in the next two days. True to form, as of yesterday, this stupid email has flooded my Inbox 20+ x's.

This is almost understandable, as we've already ascertained that half the people I work with are complete morons. But, please, for the love of all that is good and pure - do you honestly believe forwarding a stupid email is going to bring you luck or fortune?!.

Have you ever seen a newspaper headline, "Man Gets Rich After Forwarding Luck Email to 1,256 People". No. These emails are created by jackasses who want to see how many dumbfucks they can get to keep their dumb email alive and going. Trust me. There is no Dennis, and there is no Sean and there is no way on this green Earth that aggravating everyone you know by forwarding them crap like this is going to make you rich or lucky. It might lose you a few friends and a lot of respect, but that's about it.

These things are self-perpetuating; sort of like a virus or a cancer. They grow and grow until they are out of control. Since the email instructs you to ask other morons to send it back to you, then you are put in the position of having to send it out again. And when it comes back the next time? Well, since you obviously believe this tripe, you have to send it again so you won't have a whole year of bad luck! Heaven forbid. It's a never-ending cycle of clueless, desperate people driving the sane half of the world nuts.

As if we don't get enough spam and junk email in our Inboxes, now we have to worry about people we know spamming us with junk like this. Please, if you get an email like this or any of the other junk promising love, happiness, riches and God's love - delete them. End the cycle of spam - give it the death it rightly deserves.

Ah, it feels good to bitch and gripe again. Looks like I'm getting back to my old self. -sigh- This is something I've had to fuss about before. See The Chain Letter Curse and The Chain Letter Curse Revisited. Please stop the insanity - my Inbox can only take so much more.

Have a great weekend everyone! Monday I'll have pics of the new place! :)


- shanna bared her soul & griped a bit @ 6:19 AM
|




Thursday, October 23, 2003

Omfg - we have moved up the appointment with the landlord to get the keys. We go today after work - 7pm. And why am I suddenly all nervous and twittery? I'm excited, no doubt - but also a bit apprehensive. Why is that??

The street I live on now is small - very small. When all of the idiots that come to eat, drink and be merry at the near-by bars park up and down it and all in the road, it's a mess. My Dad called to tell me that he had tried to stop by last night to see how we were coming with packing. He couldn't even get down the street! He freaked out, realizing how much trouble we're going to have getting three trucks and two cars in there for us to move. Saturday is a home game and thunderstorms are predicted, so we planned to try and move Friday night. But Dad was right, it was going to be a nightmare. All the drunken college kids come out to play on Friday night and park all over my street and illegally in my parking lot.

So we're starting tonight (not that Thurs night is any better). The landlord agreed to meet with us this evening, and Dad will haul as much as he can tonight. The big help is going to come tomorrow; with the key now in our possession my Mom and sis can come and pack boxes and haul them to the new place all day long (this is what they want to do - they offered and I'm so grateful). My family's really great at helping out when it comes to moving. I can't ever repay them for the hours (and hours and hours) we all spent painting the apartment I'm in now when I first moved in. Yet they came like troopers early every morning - using their weekend time to help me paint my ugly walls.

So, anyway, we begin moving tonight. Which is funny, because we haven't packed anything. But tonight will just be the downstairs furniture - the funky futon (that's seen more kinky sex than a Nevada whore house - most of it not from me), my favorite chair (that has a permanent dent in it from my fat ass when it was the only other comfortable place to be besides bed after my surgery), my entertainment center and big-ass TV (a hand-me-down from my family, with the huge hole burned in the top from a candle my grandmother once left burning on it), my beloved Yin Yang coffee table (which I can say, proudly, that I made), and two of my three bookcases (I own so many books, I'm afraid Baret's going to decide to start using them for firewood one day).

Gods, can I really be moving? It's an ending - part of me is sad. But I'm so excited, so ready to start a new life in this new place. Sitting through work tomorrow is going to be torture!


- shanna bared her soul & griped a bit @ 2:04 PM
|




I just took this silly little email quiz that determines your "color" by your birthdate, and then gives a quick personality analysis based on that.

While such thing is completely non-sensical and isn't based on any actual factors, it's something to do at work (other than work). All of them could probably fit everyone in some way. Strangely though, everyone at my office who did it found theirs compellingly accurate. For shits & giggles, this was mine:

White
You dream and have goals in your life. You get jealous
easily and you don't react to things easily. You are
different and sometimes weird, but everyone loves
that in you.

If you're bored and want to do it, I put it up here for a bit.


- shanna bared her soul & griped a bit @ 7:53 AM
|




Who pays for this shit? Study Shows Hostility Causes Bad Health.

Is this news? Are there truly people out there that don't already know that negative emotions are harmful to your health? Anyone who's ever been under a tremendous amount of stress and ends up with a cold knows anxiety lowers your immune system. I thought it was common knowledge that anger, stress, depression and all the other unhappy emotions, experienced in copious amounts, shorten your lifespan. There's a reason people with weak hearts are told not to get excited, and aren't even allowed on amusement park rides.

While this study does little but prove something every person should already know, it got me to thinking about negative emotions and the misconceptions we have about them.

As with every negative in this life, there is a positive side to the coin. Anger, stress, excitement, fear, etc are designed to help us. Just as pain is to stop you from breaking your own body, all of the negative emotions are there to assist you in this thing we call life. Fear can you let you know when you're in danger; it also provides you with an adrenaline rush and alert senses to get yourself out of danger. There's a reason for every one of the seemingly bad emotions. Yet in our fast-paced world, stress and anxiety are dealt with on a daily basis; they can, and do, cause harm to your overall physical health.

So while you shouldn't hope to abolish every negative emotion that you experience, you should try to experience them a lot less often. Let go of the anger that suddenly welled up at the jackass that cut you off (this is easier said than done), try to put your mega-list of To-Do items into perspective and tackle them one at a time. Most importantly, remember that life is but a drop in the bucket. You do what you can, when you can and the best that you can. That's it. Make the best of the time you have without letting the idiosyncrasies of life stop you from really living.

Anyway - just a long, pointless Thursday ramble that really made no sense. :) Hope everyone is well.


- shanna bared her soul & griped a bit @ 7:48 AM
|




Wednesday, October 22, 2003

Sitting here listening to Dan Fogelberg as I began to pack, and throw out things I know it's time to part with.

Dan has always been with me through big changes in my life - his music has always spoken to me; thanks to my parents. It always makes me smile, makes me cry and makes me remember. Just right now I'm remembering going to the Dan concert in Mississippi a few months ago with my Mom, Dad, sis and brother-in-law. Forever imbedded into my mind will be my Mom pushing me in a wheelchair through a crowd of people - rushing back from a needed bathroom release pre-concert. We wanted to make it back to our seats before anything started, and Mom, in her haste, clipped some guy's ankle and sent him sprawling on the ground. In her defense, the guy was in more of a rush than us, and basically cut in front of us because we were apparently going to slow for him - hey, if you're rude enough to cut in front of someone in a wheelchair you get what you deserve. Mom was apologizing profusely as he gets up and tries to pretend no one saw him; his girlfriend is shooting Mom daggers with her eyes. I was laughing my ass off. Ah, the memories.

It's hard to get rid of things. Even if they are just "things" - some hold so many memories, you truly form an attachment to them.

So, as I drink one-too-many Michelob Ultra's (my version of a diet pill - lite beer!), get rid of old things with old memories attached, shed a tear or two with Dan - I try to smile with these memories. You don't need a "thing" to help you remember good times. Special moments are held forever in the heart. Right? Now if I could just throw out the shirt I was wearing the night I met my first love.....

And as a sidenote, fave junk email title today:
From "Big Tony" - 24 Inches of Pain
Sounds inticing, doesn't it?


- shanna bared her soul & griped a bit @ 4:22 PM
|




Still around, just getting everything ready for the move. Finding out your moving in less than a week really causes some get-your-ass-in-gear chaos. It's all falling into place, though. Hopefully I'll come back with pictures of the new place. :)


- shanna bared her soul & griped a bit @ 8:24 AM
|




Monday, October 20, 2003

I didn't want to post anything until I knew for sure - but it is now official. We found a new place!

That's right, the LSU area can have it's rapists, stalkers, serial killers and car thieves. I'm movin' on up.

I honestly didn't think I'd find a place I'd love. Not the way I fell in love with the place I live now. It's different - it's unique - it has an atmosphere about it. Imagine my surprise Saturday to go and check out a place that really set my heart atwitter. It was love at first sight - and all weekend I was waiting with bated breath to see if we would get approved to move in. The call came a few hours ago - and it ours!

$550/mo isn't bad at all for the nice, quiet neighborhood we'll be moving into. Let me tell you about all the nice things; after my last apartment, I feel as if I'm moving into luxury!

A patio was so important to me. I have a private patio now, and although it's small, I love it. I keep it up and enjoy spending time there. This new place also has a patio - except it's about 3x's bigger! Though I'll miss my little crepe myrtle tree, I'll be gaining a new friend - a nice, tall many-leaf dropping maple. I'm sure we'll become great friends. My old patio had a special touch - after cutting back a monstrosity of vines, I found an old tree stump with an old man's face intricately carved into it. It's really cool looking. The new patio has a small goldfish bowl/pond-thingy with a goldfish in it that's 13 years old. We're going to make a little fountain out of his home for him.

While the patio in itself was enough of a pull for me - hands down, the biggest draw had to be the fireplace. Oh yes, I now have a fireplace. Already I'm envisioning cold, windy sunsets outside, whilst cuddling up in front of a blazing fire with a glass of good wine. I also have a front door, and a nice-sized window next to it. Perfect for a Christmas tree, eh?

My kitchen is 3x's bigger than the kitchen I have now. It's nice, full of cabinets and has a dishwasher and a garbage disposal. Those may not seem like big things, but if you come from a place without them, it really is. There are line of small windows over the sink that look out into the patio. Just lovely.

There's a bathroom downstairs - albeit just a toliet and a sink - it's a big deal when you're downstairs drinking and have to pee every few seconds, and you're on crutches. Trust me. The bathroom down there has washer/dryer connections, so see those in my future as well. Aren't I growing up?

The two bedrooms upstairs are small, but that's of no consequence. The main room of my apartment now is my bedroom, and I'd like for that to change.

Storage. Man, is there ever enough storage here. Attic storage, ample closets and a shed out in the patio leave quite enough room to store my junk out of sight.

Can you tell I'm excited? I am. Probably nothing could've lifted my funk better than such a good change. For the first time in awhile now, I'm really smiling. :)


- shanna bared her soul & griped a bit @ 2:02 PM
|




Saturday, October 18, 2003

If this is true, Study Shows Tall People Earn More Money, I'm screwed.

The study even says that tall people earn "considerably" more money than we wee folk. What's a 4'10" lass to do?!

And, before I forget, favorite junk email title of the day:
newd laydes wgtges

One last thing:
Can anyone with any design knowledge at all help me figure out why I can't seem to make this side of the table (the blogger entries) stay on top. td align=top just ain't working. I know I'll figure it out eventually on my own, but I'm lazy right now.


- shanna bared her soul & griped a bit @ 5:26 AM
|




Friday, October 17, 2003

So I get home and there's a message on the machine from the vet where Gilly was - and I brace myself b/c I know what it's about.

Yet I'm still a little surprised to hear an almost cheery voice come on and say, so very nonchalantly, "Um, yeah, this AVS calling and Gillian's ashes came in today. So you can come and pick them up at your...earliest convenience." -click-

Just shoot me in the fucking head.


- shanna bared her soul & griped a bit @ 4:16 PM
|




Been so damn sullen and blah - forgive me everyone for not visiting and commenting as I usually do. In light of recent events, the onslaught of PMS and the learning that my muscles in my leg has, indeed, atrophied....well, life has just knocked the shit outta of me.

We're looking to move, as living by LSU just isn't safe. Baret's car broken into last year, my car stolen last weekend - numerous other thefts happening to neighbors along with LSU's usual plethora of stalkers, rapists and serial killers roamin' the 'hood.

But I start to realize, as we're looking and calling and making moving plans, that an era of my life is ending. It seems "parts" of my life happen in 2-3 year periods. When I moved into this apartment, it was my first time living alone. I loved my apartment - still do - very much; it's pretty damn cool and I took pains to make it unique and my own. Not a month after moving in here, I met Baret and adopted JoJo and Gia...a few months later Gillian came into our lives. That first year here, before my knee surgery, was the happiest of my life; without a doubt. I had a great job I was moving my way up in, got a car and a new computer, and was supporting myself. I had a great boyfriend and three kitties I loved to pieces.

Then things started to fall apart - as things do. That's just life. And now I'm leaving my first home-alone. Which means I'm leaving behind independence - because whatever place we get will be "ours", not "mine". There's no more Gillian to brighten our home and after two+ years and a break-up, Baret and I are more settled and content than blissfully happy together. Moving out of that apartment ends a time in my life - a time when I first was making it, when the fruits of my struggles were starting to pay off. Times are truly changing.

Even though entering a new era in your life is exciting, and even fun at times - it is bittersweet. It's hard to leave behind a "time" in your existence. But we must always look ahead - and not linger behind mourning what has past. So, here's to new beginnings, to changes and to the ever-flowing cycle of life. Have a splendid weekend everyone.


- shanna bared her soul & griped a bit @ 6:58 AM
|




Thursday, October 16, 2003

Woot! A new, fresh look. What cha' think? I designed it from scratch so be nice...lol.

Now if I can just get the table on the left there to stay on top.....


- shanna bared her soul & griped a bit @ 1:14 PM
|




Searching for an apartment sucks ass. I just have to say that.

Hope everyone is well. Life continues to suck. But c'est la vie.

I want to have something nice and good and pithy to write about, but there's just not much of anything like that going on.

Last night Baret and I went driving around the two areas we'd like to live in, jotting down numbers on "For Rent" signs stuck in yards. Out of all we got, only two are even slight prospects. (I've been calling people all morning). We put the top down to enjoy the cool fall air we've been blessed with, and I brought along a few beers to sip while he drove around. On the way home he suggested we stop at Chelsea's and have dinner and a beer or two. I needed that.

Chelsea's does serve food, but you couldn't really call it a restaurant - simply because it's mainly a bar. But the food is delicious and I like the laid-back atmosphere. After that we went home, and straight to bed - even though it was only 9pm. I've found that stress makes you tired a lot. Neither of us slept well. I woke up every hour - once in the middle of a panic attack - dreaming about all I had to do at work, and searching endlessly for the right apartment.

I can't wait until we go to the Renaissance festival at the end of this month - it's going to be a much needed vacation. We still haven't ordered our costumes, though. Hopefully we'll find time to do that tomorrow (the only day b/tw now and Sunday we don't have plans). I long for a quiet life.

Anyway, I obvioulsy have nothing of import to say. Just wanted to let you all know I was alive, and trying to get over all this crap.


- shanna bared her soul & griped a bit @ 6:43 AM
|




Tuesday, October 14, 2003

Stella's Ghetto-Fabulous Night in the 'Hood

It was Saturday night, 11pm, when the phone rang and we heard the joyous news, "We found your car." 16 hours after it had been taken, the BR Police Stolen Car Division had tracked Stella down. She was sitting in a bad part of town (near I-10 off Florida Blvd. on Convention St. for those of you from here) with two individuals inside. The very nice officer explained to us that they blocked them in before they had a chance to run.

Apparently Stella was just being taken on a joy ride. We got her back sans a lot of my personal things (my access badge for work, a bunch of CDs, my Scorpion necklace hanging from my rearview mirror, my cell phone and cell phone charger, $15 and all my change, my favorite sunglasses, and, worst of all, my apartment keys). But, she also returned with a few new items - a slew of CDs and a little nugget of pot. (Cops did a real thorough search, eh?) The top was down when she was brought back, and the inside smelled like cigarettes, marijuana and gin & juice (I swear). Apparently they were having a grand 'ole time in my car. The cop said it's unlikely that the person who took it was the person they found in it - that stolen cars usually swap hands many times.

And I'm thinking, 'Huh?' How's that work? "Hey man, take this car for a spin - I just stole it. When you're done havin' fun in it, pass it on to a friend."

It's laughable now - you have to find something to laugh at in this weekend of horrors. These things happen in 3's - and the third was the central a/c breaking in the apartment. No longer able to leave the door open, we've been sweating bullets.

We changed the locks Saturday night, but we still feel very unsafe. I stayed home yesterday to take care of things, get the car cleaned up, and let the apartment maintenance men in and the phone rang. It was obviously a calling card - I let the machine get it. They called back right away - wondering if it was someone I knew, I answered it, and they hung up as soon as I said 'Hello'. Someone trying to see if anyone was home? Very likely.

I no longer fear having the gun in the apartment that Baret bought a few weeks ago - now I'm glad it's there.

Our bad string of luck hasn't ended yet. This morning, JoJo (one of my other kitties) came in with, what appears to be, a broken leg. We're taking him to the vet as soon as we get home from work.

But you have to find the humor in these bad times. Right? Then let me leave you with the list of CDs left in my car by the joyriders:
two 2Pac, two Master P, two rap mixes, High Boyz, Solja Slim...and...Sarah McLaughlin.


- shanna bared her soul & griped a bit @ 7:11 AM
|




Saturday, October 11, 2003

I write this with a headache, and not much sleep. Forgive the sloppiness.

Last night we had to put Gilly to sleep. It was the hardest thing I've ever done. I really can't talk about it.

Baret and I came home and got sloshed, and ambled up to bed around midnight. We, as we often do, left the door open so JoJo could come and go as he pleased and because it felt so nice outside.

About 4am, we heard the sounds of windchimes - I have some hanging downstairs. Coming out of a drunken sleep, I also heard my keys jingling in the door where they sat. Baret sat up, thinking quicker than me, and saw a black man leaving my apartment! He yelled "Wtf?!" and ran downstairs. He told me what he saw and when I looked over, I saw my keys missing. "I heard the keys - the keys" I told him, still half-asleep and groggy. Still thinking quicker than me, he ran outside. I heard him all the way outside yell "Fuck!" and he came running back in. He grabbed the phone and I heard him saying "My car was just stolen."

What a fucking night. This guy now has keys to my apartment, and he knows my name (my badge for work was in the car). We think he must've staked us out, b/c he went straight to the correct car. My key, though obviously a car key, was a copy. It did not say Miata on it. Somehow he knew we sometimes sleep with the door open. Usually when we do this, we lock the gate to the patio. But in our grief-inspired drunk, we neglected to last night.

The cop was a fucking asshole to us. "You left your door unlocked?" he asked, like we were the two dumbest idiots in the whole world. It's a big thing around here lately - what with the serial killer in the last year, and the recent capture of a "serial snuggler" (for real). But we were drunk and in mourning - we were stupid, ok?! He was so rude - we offered him a glass of water and when he left Baret thanked him and told him to have a good nite; he didn't even answer him. Next time I see a fucking sign that says "Back the Blue! Pay raise in 2003", I'm going to rip it in half.

I'm Gillian-less and carless. We were supposed to leave for camping tomorrow, b/c we couldn't stand to be at the house with all these memories. Everything reminds me of her. The only comfort I can find right now is imagining in my head waking up in time to see that fucker, and shooting him in the back of the head. Is that horrible of me? At least anger is keeping me going. Otherwise I might just crawl into a ball and not stop crying.


- shanna bared her soul & griped a bit @ 4:44 AM
|




Thursday, October 09, 2003

I'm not in a good mood today. Regardless that I woke up from dreaming that I was Alyssa Milano in Charmed and had all these really cool and cute outfits, I did not wake up on the happy side of the bed.

I think the stress is just overwhelming me right now. I'm so worried about Gilly, and feel so helpless. It's very painful going to visit her in the hospital every day and not be able to bring her home with us. She seems to be feeling better, but she's still swollen with fluid in her abdomen and still isn't eating. Therapy on my leg yesterday was pure hell. It was so painful I actually screamed. Now I always moan and cry out, but I have never even come close to screaming - today I'm sore and bruised; and it always seems to bruise the spirit, too, because mine is low. I'm ready to be off the crutches, but the road there is so damn painful and hard! And now my ortho doc won't prescribe me anymore pain pills. I intend to call him up today and give him a piece of my mind.

Baret's way of coping with the hurt over Gilly, and the stress over the cost of her treatment, is to withdraw and be sullen. He's agitated and snappy because he doesn't deal with his emotions well. I am emotion - and want us to comfort each other. Instead, we're just repelling one another because of his cold shoulder. It makes me feel so alone.

Though this weekend should be a fun getaway - we're going with a group of friends to a state park. We all went in together on a cabin for two nights and plan to spend a weekend of secluded debauchery (as only my friends can). We'll be partyin' like rock stars - in the woods. I'm looking forward to it, but am upset that I won't be able to visit Gilly on Saturday. Who needs kids when you have pets?!

So today I'm very sullen, my stomach hurts, my head aches and I feel like crawling into bed and crying my eyes out. All in all, not a great way to start out the day. I'm trying to cheer myself with positive affirmations, and good thoughts - perhaps some good music. Just got to put all this mess into perspective. I'll probably go and read something that inspires me, like Peter McWilliams or maybe I'll work on a story. I feel like designing a website - maybe I'll redo this entire blog. I'm happiest when I'm creating and designing.

Maybe I'll be able to post later on today with happier thoughts.


- shanna bared her soul & griped a bit @ 6:38 AM
|




Wednesday, October 08, 2003

Yet another example of the fact that America is sue crazy:

Gunman's Mother Wants Compensation

Yes, folks, she is seeking worker's compensation for her son's death because he died on the job. Let's forget for a moment that he died by his own hand after killing three other innocent people and wounding five more!


- shanna bared her soul & griped a bit @ 10:23 AM
|




So I've been doing much thinking over the White Wolf gaming enterprise suing Sony, the makers of the movie Underworld. While I've been a longtime fan of White Wolf, this is utter bullshit.

Being a writer myself, I take seriously the accusation of plagiarism. Plagiarism is defined by Merriam-Webster Online as:
to steal and pass off (the ideas or words of another) as one's own : use (another's production) without crediting the source and to commit literary theft : present as new and original an idea or product derived from an existing source.

The question is, did Sony plagiarize White Wolf's ideas? I would have to say, no more than White Wolf plagiarized the ideas of Anne Rice, Bram Stoker and every other vampire-story writer out there. I first purchased Vampire: The Masquerade and The Vampire Player's Companion the year they came out (1995) and vampires were all the rage. My friend and I were big Anne Rice fans, and I had just recently finished her Interview with a Vampire series. When reading the White Wolf RPG books the Rice influence was very obvious to me.

The point is, you cannot steal an idea. Merriam and Webster may have a name for the act, but, in my opinion, the world of creativity and ideas is open to any and all who are able to tap into it. The fact that elements of Underworld are similar to elements of Vampire: The Masquerade is no more pertinent than the fact that VtM is similar to Anne Rice, and Anne probably got some of her base ideas from Bram Stoker.

As Peter McWilliams so eloquently put in his Philosphy of Created Stuff:
"Art, therefore, needs to be readily available - available to the general public for entertainment, and available to artists for pilfering. Artists should be able to incorporate - consciously or unconsciously, credited or not - the work of other artists."

Touche. I couldn't agree more. Mr. McWilliams has every one of his books on his website, where you can read them for free - and even hopes that you are able to use his work. Now, that, my friends, is an artist.

I have always believed that if you begin to be greedy about your work, you will lose the talent to create true art again; your muse will leave you. There are a million ideas floating around in the ethers - ready for any and all to grab them, use them, and put their own distinct and unique mark on them. I had the idea of a Romeo-and-Juliet type story between a vampire and a werewolf when I was in high school. As a close friend said, "Who hasn't?" Should everyone that's ever had any idea similar to any movie ever created start suing? Nobody owns an idea. To believe so is ridiculous.

And that's my two coppers on that.


- shanna bared her soul & griped a bit @ 7:27 AM
|




Tuesday, October 07, 2003

We had to leave Gilly in the hospital overnight. I really like these vets as they're doing the best they can for her. They gave her an I.V. to get some fluids in her (she was dehydrated b/c she wasn't eating or drinking much of anything) and antibiotics (blood work did show an infection). She was also very constipated - which the E.R. vet last week overlooked. I have to call back today around 11am and see if the x-ray they took shows any damage to her colon. We're not out of the woods yet, but things are looking a bit better. They said she's doing well (when I called this morning), and did eat and drink last night.

So we're going to the Renaissance Festival in Houston this year. It's what I wanted to do for my birthday (which falls on Nov. 6). Baret went last year with a friend (who we're going with again this year) and said it was "awesome". I've no doubt - this will be my first. I'm trying to find a decent costume in the short amount of time we have before we leave (we're leaving for Houston Oct. 31 so we can be at the festival Saturday, Nov. 1).

I'm stuck between these two, and would like your opinions:
Queen Anne and Renaissance Mistress.

I like them both. I truly wish I could get something nicer, but time won't permit a custom-fitted outfit. Regardless, I'm so excited about the upcoming festival.

In other news, this past Saturday was election day, and driving around a lot that day I was aggravated to see any piece of bare grass covered in little "vote for me" signs. These things were littering the city profusely. And of course, after the election is over, they don't come back and pick those things up. I've decided I'm not voting for anyone whose publicity litters the city with their name, and doesn't bother to pick it up.

My new favorite needs-to-be-blown-off-the-road drivers are the asshats that drive slow in the fast/passing lane, and don't bother to move over when faster traffic comes up behind them. Yet I suppose that goes back to the lack of common courtesy and consideration for others I'd mentioned earlier. The longer I'm around people, the less I like them.

Ah, it's off to another day of dealing with broken computers and their empty-headed users. New one for today:
"I accidentally created all of these 'New Folders' on my Desktop, and I don't know how to get rid of them."


- shanna bared her soul & griped a bit @ 6:56 AM
|




Monday, October 06, 2003

It's overcast and dreary outside today - it will rain by this evening, I'm sure of it.

I have a cat who is FeLV + - she has feline leukemia. In a feline this works like AIDS; her immune system is weak. Some cats can live years with this and never get sick, some have all kinds of complications. In the past two weeks, my Gillian has gotten ill. We've tried everything - including two emergency rushes to vets - to make her better. She continues to get worse. Right now I'm going to call every vet in Baton Rouge until I can find one that will see her today. I want to know exactly what is wrong with her; so I can make a decision about what is best to do for her. I have this sinking feeling in my stomach that today I may have to make that big decision; I've never done it and I pray that I have the strength. It will be one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. So today, if you have a moment, give a thought and send some good healing light to a sweet little kitty named Gillian.



**Update on the vet search: We found a vet that takes walk-ins between 2-7 pm. That way Baret and I can both go with her; perfect.


- shanna bared her soul & griped a bit @ 6:05 AM
|




Friday, October 03, 2003

A quick thought - and 2nd post this lovely Friday. Almost everyone I relate to very well, whose blogs I felt compelled to link up and read every day, are turning out to be Scorpios like me!

There's Jem, Paul, Pinky, and Rebecky that I know for sure. Rose is getting handfasted to a Scorpio (S./Ravyn). I found this very interesting.

Do like signs just really relate to each other's thoughts and rants? So come on, 'fess it up now, if you read this blog - what's your sign?


- shanna bared her soul & griped a bit @ 7:07 AM
|




The time of year known as autumn brings back so many memories for me. It's at this time of year that I look back on my past, see how far I've come, and also revel in sweet memories of younger, more carefree days.

I've been thinking of my childhood lately, and how it helped to shape who I am today. I realize how lucky I was to grow up in a wacky, dysfuntional family. There were bad times - what family doesn't have those? - but there were many more memorable times that I love to think back to.

My parents were young; my mother was less than a month into 20 when I was born and turned 23 just a few days before her last child was born. In those early years it almost seemed as if they grew up with us. My love of good music I got from them; my parents loved music and there was always anything from Heart to Led Zeppelin, Dan Fogelberg to Pink Floyd playing around the house. My love of fantasy I got from them; my parents played D&D with a group of friends once a month and my Dad used to work on painting the small pewter miniatures for the game. They also used to stay up late, after we'd been put to bed, and play Ultima III together on the old Atari 800 (much like Baret and I now play Everquest). How many people can say they group in a household where the world of fantasy thrived and childhood imaginations were encouraged? Mom nurtured my morbid fascination with all things horror; we used to stay up late into the night, while my two younger siblings slept, and watch scary movies. My Mom was one of those rare adults that really enjoyed playing with her kids - we all remember her sitting and sharpening our colors and then coloring with us for hours. From Dad I learned the value of hard work, and the importance of being nice to others (including respecting my elders - we got in trouble if we forgot to say our Mr.'s, Mrs', thank yous and your welcomes).

We celebrated Halloween with almost as much gusto as Christmas; and Christmas itself my mother made an amazingly magical holiday.

I'm not saying I had the ideal childhood; far from it. My family also has a wicked way of picking on each other - which later made us all suffer from low self-esteem. My Dad drank too much, and my Mom has been known to go off into the realm of "all Moms" with a psychotic episode or two. My parents rarely got along - they fought a lot - I'll readily admit our household was rarely peaceful. But, in the end, none of that matters. I've seen families a lot more "normal" (whatever that is), and I've seen some a 1000x's crazier.

When you become an "adult" (I hate that word) you start to realize you can no longer blame your family or your upbringing for the way you are or the things you do. True, they helped shaped the person you became - but as an adult, it's up to you to sculpt that still malleable clay into something worthwhile. Now I look back at my growing-up-years and see the good parts - the wacky stuff that made my family special. Growing up in my clan was interesting, and actually quite fun. I realize I was lucky to be born into such a loving and kooky family; even with all their faults...you can't help but love them.

Fall is the time when I reflect back on things such as this; when I step back to count my many blessings.


- shanna bared her soul & griped a bit @ 6:43 AM
|




Thursday, October 02, 2003

If I'm griping, you know I'm feeling better.

While Rush Limbaugh shouldn't have said what he said - simply because people are over-sensitive - it still isn't fair. You see, if some black commentator had made a comment such as, for example, "There's nothing special about Larry Byrd. The media's just shocked that a white boy can play ball." nobody would've thought a thing about that.

And on another note, I'm beginning to wonder - what ever happend to consideration and common courtesy in our society? Does anyone notice a severe lacking of these two things in the world at large? Does that bother anyone else?

Never is this more clear to me than when I travel to Angola State Penitentiary to visit someone dear to me. No, it isn't the inmates that are uncouth; in fact, most of them are deeply religious and extremely kind individuals. It is the people that are going there to visit their loved ones. You would think the common bond of everyone there having someone they love locked away would make a sort of comradeship, and to some extent there is. But mostly, I see a lot of rude and selfish people who are nothing but a huge group of hypocrites.

These are people that come straight from church still dressed in their Sunday finest and singing the praises of Jesus. No, I'm not making that up - they literally walk into the room and yell out "Jesus loves you! I love you! Praise Jesus!" These same people try to jump in front of me and nearly knock me down when going for the door - I'm on crutches, you know. These same people get on the bus and sit right down in the two front seats set aside for the handicapped - because they're lazy or feel self-important. And when I struggle my way up the bus steps (this is not an easy task for me), they give me this defiant look - as if to say, "I'm not moving." Have you ever walked down a bus aisle on crutches?

I don't get angry, I just get upset. You know that I'm not a Christian, but I believe a lot of the messages from Jesus (who I do believe existed and was a prophet - but I do not believe was 'the only son of God'). And every time I want walk up to them and quote that passage about "everytime you helped a stranger, you were helping me." How can people be so selfish and uncaring when it comes to their fellow man? I know that's a dumb question. The human race as a whole is just awful. Unless it's a crisis - like 9/11 when everyone joined together to help their neighbor - humans suck at compassion and consideration.

When I was first on the crutches, and not very good at it yet, I was leaving a restaurant. My friend was still at the counter, getting her change, and I was standing at the door. A woman had walked in and I asked her if she could open the door for me, please. I was very polite - even self-effacing because I hated having to ask for help. She let out a big, aggravated sigh and rolled her eyes. She opened it, cutting me daggers with her eyes the entire time.

It's not that I'm asking for sympathy, or even a kind hand, simply because I'm on crutches. I'm using this as an example to show how awful mankind can be. When you see the less fortunate, the down-trodden - aren't you supposed to help them? Or, at least, just smile or be kind? Aren't you supposed to do that to everyone?

On a lighter note - October is the beginning of good things. Good things never happen to me in September; in fact, very horrible things do. So I'm elated that it's over and it's all going to get better from here. So, I'm not in just a gripey mood - but a light-hearted one.

Favorite junk email title of the day - evilteencunts (wtf?)

Also - food for thought. Did you know the meaning of the word "sensual" is actually (or, at least, was originally):
deficient in moral, spiritual, or intellectual interests.


- shanna bared her soul & griped a bit @ 6:28 AM
|




Powered by Blogger