Lovin the new job. Lots of training but I couldn't have gotten luckier with respect to coworkers and a boss.
Tha apt has turned out to be a bit buggier than I would like. It is surrounded by oak trees and situated in a forest more or less so lots of big "palmetto/water " bugs are hanging out. A bit of spray should take care of them and at least they aren't scary german cockroaches. I wonder how many of those I ate in my sleep as a child. Uggh.
My neighbors are about as wierd as me. I talked over my potential role as a stalker with several friends. All conclude that while I may be nosy-I attribute it the childlike curiosity-I am not a stalker and not out of the norm for nieghbors. In any case I moved all the plnats around back in my little yard so I can enjoy them and hung up a curtain across my front window. That way they don't have to worry about others observing thier comings and goings. What are they drug dealers or do they hold S&M parties there? Seriously, why all the concern?
Anyways I decided to save a cat recently. It was because he kept screaming at me. He is this scrawny black and white oriental. At first I thought he was starving. He is underfed and really skinny but he also appears to be a fashion model of the cat world. He is buitl like a siamese my sister had awhiile back. All legs, ears and tail. I can fold him in half like a bendy toy. He is so wierd looking. So he crawled out from under my sister's house that she was moving from and yowled at me. I thought he was dying. Nope he always yowls like that. I originally named him shiva as I am a big fan and thought that maybe shiva made me feel bad for him and take him home. Then I started calling him skelator as he is quite skelatal. Now he is stinky. God almighty he stinks to hell and back. It seems his digestive tract is rather sensitive to odd foods and unfortunately he loves to eat human foods. He is also kinda dumb and didn't seem to understand when I moved the litter box, that he needed to place his unpleasent items in the new location and not on the floor where the litter box used to be. That twice in a row got him turned into an outside cat. I took him outside and three times he ran into the door trying to get back in. Twice he jumped up on the window screen and mewled trying to tear his way into the window. He was such a happy indoor cat. He loves affection-starving for it I would guess-and sleeps beside my head at night. He so wants to be held and loved. I stuck with the outside cat for two days and then let him back in last night. He is so pathetic. Now he stays out during the day but comes in at night and we jusrt keep the doors to the bedroom shut so he doesn't leave us unpleasent suprises. Not hard as we are still in the living room on the futon.
Things to think about:
castles on the hills-why do we want them
animal love/programming/domestication
genetic human personality traits
Tuesday, August 24, 2004
Wednesday, August 11, 2004
black sheep
Away from entertaining nieghbor stories and day to day junk and back to randon thoughts. before I end my son's life. he is driving me bonkers.
What makes a black sheep of the family? What qualities and patterns of behavior lead to whole braches of family being neglected, left behind, classified as no longer worthy of inclusion?
When I was small I knew we were poor and that we had what I thought of as rich relatives. They were all my great uncles and they would come around and visit on the big holidays as my G Grandmaw lived with my Gmaw and they wanted to see her. They would stop by and chat and be social but we really never talked at any length with them. Later , it turns out, they often told my grandmother and mom that we children would never turn out to be anything other than white trash. We, being small and fond of santa claus, didn't know what that meant.
As I traced my family history it seems I am descended from the balck sheep of every generation, most being women. The men, ustable or entertaining depending on how you look at it, married stable women who took care off them. Their children were raised in stable families and grew up to be a risky, somewhat qualified version of okay.
The women being of a somewhat sensual, slightly manic, decideldly out of the ordinary nature, married men who were even more "interesting" than themselves. They were in a search for a certain type of mate which when they found it lead them into trouble. Men look for a stable mate to raise the kids. Women look for a strong mate
What makes a black sheep of the family? What qualities and patterns of behavior lead to whole braches of family being neglected, left behind, classified as no longer worthy of inclusion?
When I was small I knew we were poor and that we had what I thought of as rich relatives. They were all my great uncles and they would come around and visit on the big holidays as my G Grandmaw lived with my Gmaw and they wanted to see her. They would stop by and chat and be social but we really never talked at any length with them. Later , it turns out, they often told my grandmother and mom that we children would never turn out to be anything other than white trash. We, being small and fond of santa claus, didn't know what that meant.
As I traced my family history it seems I am descended from the balck sheep of every generation, most being women. The men, ustable or entertaining depending on how you look at it, married stable women who took care off them. Their children were raised in stable families and grew up to be a risky, somewhat qualified version of okay.
The women being of a somewhat sensual, slightly manic, decideldly out of the ordinary nature, married men who were even more "interesting" than themselves. They were in a search for a certain type of mate which when they found it lead them into trouble. Men look for a stable mate to raise the kids. Women look for a strong mate
Thursday, August 05, 2004
my head is shaped like a brick
I got my proofs from the photographer yesterday. Some of them were really neat-several very abstract shots of my torso-no legs or head just torso. Also several of my back and front but without much face. It was the ones with my face in them that freaked me out. I swear my head looks like a big square brick. I don't think its possibly to have a bigger fatter head. I look like a weightlifter or something. Plus seeing my face in mirror imgae is always odd. I guess everyone goes through that but not with a brick for a head.
My mom in law always tells me that I could be a model-well a real model -not just figure studies. At least some portion of the male population thinks I am attractive as well. It seems to be a hit or miss thing. Either I am not at all interesting to them or they stare a bit obsessively. Foreign guys love me. Guys in my high school wouldn't ask me out. Then however they voted me the best looking girl in our class. How does this happen? I have few to no dates all of high school, yet it turns out somebody thought I was pretty. I was so pissed too. Not "most likely to succeed, or smartest, or sweetest" no I was the good looking one. It bugged me as looks take no effort. You are born a certain way and there isn't a lot you can do to change that. Inside of you is very different. You grow and change and if no one ever looks past your face, they miss what you really are-the important stuff. All they ever saw was the outside of me. They never saw what I was like on the inside. With a brick for a head too.
It is the native american heritage coming through. I am somewhere around 1/64 to 1/128 native american, uncertainties arising due to anglo surnames being given to pure or half indian children. You'd think this'd leave me looking like a plain old white person, but we can't seem to lose the chin in the family-well the face in general. My son looks just like me, with his dad's eye color (and his aunt's backhair). I look like my mom but actually more like my grandmom. My mom looks a bit morelike my GGmom. We all favor my GGGmom as to the face and eyes. Her mom is in the same picture but there is the jaw. The picture is her with her ten daughters and her poor beaten down husband. The girls are all in thier twenties or thirties. One of them might be lacking the jaw. Her face is more triangular. The rest of them have the brick head appearence. Most of them are prettier than me as they tend to have higher eyebrows and more open eyes. Mine are lowset and I seem to look sleepy in all the pictures I take-seriously drugged sleepy.
The strangest thing is that I think I forget what I look like sometimes. When I was very small, in my mind when I pictured myself, I was pale with long straight red hair that I wore in a ponytail. My favorite barbie looked like that and I thought it looked like me. One day I realized that I look nothing like my mental image. It was sort of a shock and was so sad as I didn't think I looked very pretty the way I was. That was when I was four or five. Now I think they same thing happens sometimes. I tend to equate my appearence with TV maybe. I see the avarage brunette on TV and I guess I morph my mental picture of myself sort of onto that. Then I actually see myself and am put off by it as I don't look the way I think I look. It isn't bad or anyhting just very different from what I expected. The way my body looks is very reasonable because I see it all the time, but my head catches me by suprise now and then. As strange as it seems that is the most interesting part of the photos is seeing what I really look like. What do I look like when I am not peeking at myself in a mirror. What is it that other people see. It isn't what the perfect model on TV or magazines looks like. It is very different and that really bugs me. I have to force myself to look at each picture for awhile to get over that initial yuck feeling.
The funniest thingis that I think most models are so damned boring looking. Scrawny, steroetyped faces with too much makeup. I can't tell brittney spears , cristina aulara, and that jessica simpson girl apart or madonna for that matter.m They are just generic blondes. They all blend together and nothing about them makes me want to look again. I claim to think thet angelina jolei is beautiful but sometimes she blends as well. The pretty red head om "pretty woman" is different. Her features are so beautiful and her smile is so full of joy.
So what I wonder-my husband very often comments that this girl is fat and ugly or that girl is nasty looking. I don't see what he is talking about as I think they are jsut normal people. Do we Americans all have this problem of thinking we should look like something from TV? Do we get such high expectations of ourselves and our mates appearences from it? What did pretty mean when you lived in a small village all your life? What would the world be like if there were no mirrors to stare into? The people I find most interesting are the ones who have something really interesting about them that catches my eye and makes me want to look again. Even if that something is a long straight distinctive nose or eyes that may be a bit bugged out but make that person look very unusual. Will our culture ever get tired of what the TV tells us we should like and instead develop individual tastes? My husband is my little miner's canary of what the avarage person (a doer not a thinker) is thinking. He seems to indicate that he likes the steoreotypes look. (He also thinks Kerry will win the election)
Well my brick shaped head is weighing heavily on my neck and my tummy is demanding food.
More thoughts:
stick figures
prostitution
My mom in law always tells me that I could be a model-well a real model -not just figure studies. At least some portion of the male population thinks I am attractive as well. It seems to be a hit or miss thing. Either I am not at all interesting to them or they stare a bit obsessively. Foreign guys love me. Guys in my high school wouldn't ask me out. Then however they voted me the best looking girl in our class. How does this happen? I have few to no dates all of high school, yet it turns out somebody thought I was pretty. I was so pissed too. Not "most likely to succeed, or smartest, or sweetest" no I was the good looking one. It bugged me as looks take no effort. You are born a certain way and there isn't a lot you can do to change that. Inside of you is very different. You grow and change and if no one ever looks past your face, they miss what you really are-the important stuff. All they ever saw was the outside of me. They never saw what I was like on the inside. With a brick for a head too.
It is the native american heritage coming through. I am somewhere around 1/64 to 1/128 native american, uncertainties arising due to anglo surnames being given to pure or half indian children. You'd think this'd leave me looking like a plain old white person, but we can't seem to lose the chin in the family-well the face in general. My son looks just like me, with his dad's eye color (and his aunt's backhair). I look like my mom but actually more like my grandmom. My mom looks a bit morelike my GGmom. We all favor my GGGmom as to the face and eyes. Her mom is in the same picture but there is the jaw. The picture is her with her ten daughters and her poor beaten down husband. The girls are all in thier twenties or thirties. One of them might be lacking the jaw. Her face is more triangular. The rest of them have the brick head appearence. Most of them are prettier than me as they tend to have higher eyebrows and more open eyes. Mine are lowset and I seem to look sleepy in all the pictures I take-seriously drugged sleepy.
The strangest thing is that I think I forget what I look like sometimes. When I was very small, in my mind when I pictured myself, I was pale with long straight red hair that I wore in a ponytail. My favorite barbie looked like that and I thought it looked like me. One day I realized that I look nothing like my mental image. It was sort of a shock and was so sad as I didn't think I looked very pretty the way I was. That was when I was four or five. Now I think they same thing happens sometimes. I tend to equate my appearence with TV maybe. I see the avarage brunette on TV and I guess I morph my mental picture of myself sort of onto that. Then I actually see myself and am put off by it as I don't look the way I think I look. It isn't bad or anyhting just very different from what I expected. The way my body looks is very reasonable because I see it all the time, but my head catches me by suprise now and then. As strange as it seems that is the most interesting part of the photos is seeing what I really look like. What do I look like when I am not peeking at myself in a mirror. What is it that other people see. It isn't what the perfect model on TV or magazines looks like. It is very different and that really bugs me. I have to force myself to look at each picture for awhile to get over that initial yuck feeling.
The funniest thingis that I think most models are so damned boring looking. Scrawny, steroetyped faces with too much makeup. I can't tell brittney spears , cristina aulara, and that jessica simpson girl apart or madonna for that matter.m They are just generic blondes. They all blend together and nothing about them makes me want to look again. I claim to think thet angelina jolei is beautiful but sometimes she blends as well. The pretty red head om "pretty woman" is different. Her features are so beautiful and her smile is so full of joy.
So what I wonder-my husband very often comments that this girl is fat and ugly or that girl is nasty looking. I don't see what he is talking about as I think they are jsut normal people. Do we Americans all have this problem of thinking we should look like something from TV? Do we get such high expectations of ourselves and our mates appearences from it? What did pretty mean when you lived in a small village all your life? What would the world be like if there were no mirrors to stare into? The people I find most interesting are the ones who have something really interesting about them that catches my eye and makes me want to look again. Even if that something is a long straight distinctive nose or eyes that may be a bit bugged out but make that person look very unusual. Will our culture ever get tired of what the TV tells us we should like and instead develop individual tastes? My husband is my little miner's canary of what the avarage person (a doer not a thinker) is thinking. He seems to indicate that he likes the steoreotypes look. (He also thinks Kerry will win the election)
Well my brick shaped head is weighing heavily on my neck and my tummy is demanding food.
More thoughts:
stick figures
prostitution
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