Had a dream last night that the tree had lost its middle

The long awaited sequel to JAWSFEST 2005 (the 30th anniversary of the film), is JAWSFEST 2012 (for the 37th anniversary of the film, uh, OK)... and the hubby is going back to Amity Island for it. With his sister. I will gladly stay home because I am not nearly as much in love with Bruce the shark as they are.

Besides, I got to go to Boston by myself and learn all about how Jared Padalecki smooshed the do-not-push-this-button button.

—-

There’s been a lot of stuff running through my head lately - stuff that shouldn’t be there, mostly. So I’m focused on stuff that is… OH! LOOK! SHINY OBJECT!

Yeah. There’s been a lot of… LOOK!! LOOK!! LOOK!! OVER THERE!! SUPER!! SHINY!! OBJECT!!

I know why I’m prone to overthinking things - it’s a combination of introversion and bipolar - but damned if I know how to stop it.  I know why I’m thinking about the things I shouldn’t be thinking about, too. Damned if I know how to stop that, too.

I guess I’m drawn to the dark side of things. The “good girls don’t do that” side of things.

Not suicide dark, not depression dark, just things that hide in the dark dark. No need to call the shrink or up my meds…

My friend, Wendy, is drawn to the dark side, too. She takes these deliciously dark photos that make me jealous of her eye, her skill with make up, all of it.

I’m not quite that skilled visually, but I’m not too bad with words, so I end up writing crap. In my journals. Where it will never be seen. Where I can write it over and over and over and over and over and… obsess over it in private.

I don’t know how to say what I want to say, how I want it to sound, so I think I’ll let the Indigo Girls try:
Begin my studies with this pencil and this paper, and I’m working through the grammar of my fears

Yeah, that.

I don’t want to get sentimental…

Escaped to Albany last night, to see my friends’ band play at Red Square.

I like the Albany shows - I’m meeting so much of the band’s extended family that I’m getting to the point where I’m never alone at a show. Last night, Mike looked at me and said, “I can’t remember your name, but you’re the girl from New Hampshire.” Yes, yes, I am, Mike. Then, there was Jesse. “You’re the super fan - you come from somewhere out East.”  Amazingly, both of them remembered which show they met me at: Mike at the Putnam Den; Jesse at Valentine’s Upstairs.

J came with me and I don’t know if seeing me with people outside of the band gave him peace of mind or not. It’s not like I’m hanging out with random strangers at these shows… oh, wait, that’s how I met Mike and Jesse. *grin*

So many good memories from last night: Rollz did the ‘catdaddy’ dance! J FINALLY got to hear their cover of “Black and Tans”! The sign in the elevator! Annie got her fingerless gloves! My post-show whacked out dream about Tate from American Horror Story!

—-

Seriously, I don’t know what the hell is wrong with me, but lately I’m all shippy. Vampire Diaries’ Damon and Elena. Supernatural’s Dean and Castiel… and now AHS’ Tate and Violet.

There’s something about Tate and Violet, specifically, that really make me want to dig into the canon and start writing fanfic, or roleplay. It’s like I’m a teenager again, but without all the angst. I had written some fanfic a gazillion years ago, but I didn’t know it was a genre all it’s own, and I had NO idea it was so… complicated. What I wrote back then was decidedly NOT canon and it probably would have resulted in my being tarred and feathered. The internet has both stifled and increased my creativity. If I had known that what I wrote was so far out of canon, I probably would have never written a word of it. If I do decide to write my fanfic, now I can research the canon and not screw it up.

Of course, now that I’ve come out in favor of Violate, I’m going to have to deal with the haters. Tate is deeply disturbed, and responsible for a Columbine-like incident, but he also seems so soft, sweet, and vulnerable, that it’s hard to NOT like his character. I know there’s a lot of conflict about the school shooting storyline, and the fact that he’s a complete psycho, but his character is like an onion and I do love me some onions. 

—-
So there you go - two things I’m all obsessy about - Black Mountain Symphony and American Horror Story. I’d love to write more, but I can’t keep my eyes open.

Waiting. Watching. Drinking for ya, baby.

You knew what you wanted… You knew what you needed… I wasn’t a part of it… Even though I really wanted to be

I was reminded today that Dave died in 2002 of a brain aneurysm… so, I have Spring Heeled Jack running through my head.

Anyhoo - it’s time for a little bit of randomness.

1) I’m blogging again at somewhere that’s not here. The idea is to take little snippets of fiction that don’t belong anywhere and stick ‘em there. Possibly to share with That Person. Possibly to share with other writerly type people. I dunno, yet. It’s still too new.

2) The Number Crunching Ninja has hired a Jr. Ninja!!! A panel of four made a unanimous decision, so she better work out. I set up her desk today. A whole lot of cool, and a whole metric shit ton of scary. I’m still really doubting my ability to manage someone. I do have “the social skills of a nat” (sic) after all.

3) Someone out there has my EXACT NAME and is wreaking havoc with my life. Seriously - how many people out there can possibly have my combination of first, middle and last names? Granted, all the necessary credit checks, password resets, and phone calls proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that it’s NOT identity theft. Not that living with a completely fucked up coincidence is even better. I’m really glad that she settled with the collection agency about her debt to a spa. I’m sorry the furniture store is sending her to collections. I’m sorry that her bank is closing her account due to inactivity (Gee, I wonder if that has anything to do with the furniture? durdee dur.) And I’m really, really, really sorry that she has such FUCKING bad taste in movies. (Blockbuster Express made it a little too easy to change her password. Whoops.)

4) Along the same realm - there’s another me (at least first and last name), who’s apparently having marital problems. I finally had to email her husband (ex?) and tell him he was sending his pleas to the wrong person.

5) And more!!!! Your email address at gmail is considered your email address, no matter how it’s spelled.  GoodAdvices @ gmail dot com (I don’t know if it exists - ain’t mine) could easily be Good.Advices or g.o.o.d.a.d.v.i.c.e.s. They will ALL redirect to the main gmail account. That could easily explain why I’m getting these other people’s emails, but it’s still annoying. It also results in more spam than one person could ever possibly sort through.

6) BU’s hockey season is depressing so far. Makes me wonder why Millan is still Parker’s go-to guy. I think his freshman year was a fluke. He hasn’t played to expectations since the National Championship year.

7) Watched UConn’s hockey team lose to Merrimack. (MERRIMACK!) Of course, fifty-five minutes in penalties, and losing two guys to game misconducts will do that to a team. That was a bullshit game. How bullshit? Benedetto was on UConn’s side all night. Just proves that T. Low should have stayed a linesman. He was a terrible linesman, too.

8) It’s only midterms and I’ve already lost all interest in being back in school. I don’t think I’m going to do a very good job on the midterm this weekend. It’s an online exam, and while I have three hours to do it, I’m terrified that we’ll lose power or something while I’m in the middle of it. If something happens before you’ve submitted the exam, you’re essentially fucked. (It’s not like they’re forecasting a Nor’easter or anything for this weekend…)

9) I’m breaking up with Every. Single. Person. in my life who is not watching “American Horror Story”. Even J is not exempt from this. This is the most amazing, creepy, well-written show on TV in forever. (Yes, I do believe I love it more than SPN right now. Nothing against SPN, but this show is really good.) Most amazing is that the douche who brought us that shitshow “Glee” is behind it. I can almost forgive him for that. Almost.

10) I’m totally in love with Tate. TOTALLY. Not only is he adorable, but he does this innocent / creepy thing well. AND THE RUBBER SUIT. OH MY GOD. I practically crapped myself when he pulled the mask off. (How cute is Evan Peters? Someone said that he reminds them of a young Malcom McDowell - circa “A Clockwork Orange”. While I was quite fond of the movie and can see the similarities, I see Rick Allen when I look at his current IMBD picture.)

From the mouths of adorable drunk guys

HIM: Are you happy?

ME: Yeah. I make good money, I have season tickets to my favorite hockey team, and I have the freedom to see my favorite band whenever and wherever I want.

HIM: You have such passion. You should do something with that passion. (He said something here, but I have NO IDEA what it was and then he yelled)... INDIE MUSIC!

Yeah… I should do something with my passion for indie music, since it ended so well the last time. He knows how it ended, too, so that was a bit of a surprise.

It’s a shame he was so ‘faced that he doesn’t remember that conversation. I’d love to know what he said.

——

Also - all of BMS uses the word “wiener” to describe the male genitalia, except for Rollz who called it a “cock” once before reverting back to “wiener”. Coming from a group of friends who yell “PENIS!” at each other, it’s kind of a refreshing change. (And that conversation about Ron Jeremy’s killer wiener makes me want to trade my stick in for an automatic… I suppose I need to see that movie now. *shudders*)

We all go back to where we belong.

It’s like Michael Stipe can read my mind…

How many times have I said that I keep coming back to where I’m supposed to be? (Here’s one!)

R.E.M. is streaming their newest (last) single via RollingStone.com, and the title is “We all go back to where we belong”.

It’s kind of creeping me out. Seriously.

We all go back to where we belong.

I keep coming back to where I’m supposed to be.

Is this similarity the result of listening to R.E.M. my entire life or is Michael Stipe reading my blog? (How fucking cool would THAT be?!?!?)