My original photo shoot got screwed up by work (big surprise), so I dragged J out with me this morning.
He’s definitely not a photographer, and I’m definitely not a model, but we made it work. A little.
The Nubble is a sacred place to me and since I couldn’t do the Boston Public Garden, it felt like the right place. I love that he got this shot… I was sitting there thinking about my dad and what he would think about this whole thing.
You can’t see the other two talismen on me: my chucks and my mockingjay pin. But they were an important part of this.
I went out there and felt incredibly ridiculous - the insecurity was out of control - but my favorite picture is actually the one where I almost fell off the rock I was sitting on. (Maybe in another post…)
Of course, me in a corseted ball gown was just asking for a boob shot. You know it’s a good one when you get a dirty message from an unexpected source. I may or may not be blushing a little bit over here.
The shots aren’t beautiful, well composed, and don’t really show my face at all, but they capture me:
Clumsy, introspective and gifted with a halfway decent rack.
I was “experimenting” in the iTunes Store this afternoon… Every once in a while, I buy albums or whatever from iTunes, and I don’t get the full download. I get all the songs, but I don’t necessarily get the entire song.
The amount of shit iTunes customer service puts me through before they finally release the song back for me to re-download is ridiculous. I purchased it. The only authorized computer on my account is trying to download it… why do they have to be so bitchy about it? (And as I write this—one of the six I just bought cuts out early. Good thing for my new bestie, Lawrence, the “delete song, sign out of the store, close iTunes, open iTunes, log into the store, download” dance worked this time. First time in months.)
At any rate, I’m not going to talk about what I purchased - only that between ABDC and Girl Talk, I’m starting to buy the weirdest crap. My recommendations look like those of several people now. I have a hard time believing that my musical tastes are THAT diverse. But with the exception of the random country song. they are all mine.
So… to circle back to where this all started:
I’m screwing around in iTunes, looking for stuff to buy and see if they will download without a problem.
I decide to see if Black Mountain Symphony’s album is available on iTunes… and what do I spy with my little eye?
Other people who bought this album also purchased: Jason Mraz’s “We Sing. We Dance. We Steal Things”.
Guess what song is on that album?
I’m never going to escape that damn boy and the song that haunts me…
Or like a thousand others whose voices cry out for help, day after day, hour after hour, ad infinitum.
I’ve never posted what I felt was a cry for help. I post facts about the bipolar’s affect on me. If it was a true cry for help, it would be obvious, like so many others are.
People wonder where the parents are, why aren’t the friends helping out, why isn’t anyone reporting these things to Tumblr, YouTube, whomever…
That, my friends, is a call for help. Plain and simple.
I think we’ve all been burned by people on the internet falsely representing who they are…
But the fact remains, when it is so obvious that there is something wrong, someone needs to do something.
I’ve made mention here about the fucked up kids I’ve met on tumblr, and I do go out of my way to message them and try to help them feel like they can get through this, they can stop cutting, they can fight through the Ick…
I’m only one person.
And it sucks.
If I had seen her video on my tumblr dash, you can bet your ass I would have said something to her.
Would it have helped her?
I don’t know. Probably not.
People that desperate to end their lives normally do succeed.
The internet is a fucked up place, full of fucked up people… but that’s no excuse to ignore something like Olivia’s video.
All of my expiring domains are being moved to a new registrar.
All of my old blogs have been moved to my local server, here in the house.
This very blog has moved to a new host.
I’m designing a new site, tumblr-like, in EE 2, just because I can. It (like my real tumblr account) will hold stuff that is important to me, but I don’t want here. I’m hoping that Pinterest (and possibly ravelry) has an API I can use to bring my posts there into the blog. I’m definitely using a new public twitter account that will pull into the new site, too. It’s been so long since I’ve actually worked on a site from the ground up that I’m finding myself less interested in the graphics (which is odd) and more into the programming. It might have something to do with the pain in the ass my MAMP / PHPMyAdmin install was on the localhost… but the sites work, so I did something right. (Pwning Terminal FTW!!!!)
I’ve managed to whittle down a 100+ song Violate fan mix to 36 songs, so I’m feeling pretty good about it. I’ve even got the songs in episode order, more or less. I actually made it for someone, as part of an “YOU NEED TO SEE THIS SHOW!!!!!” care package. I’m bummed I didn’t get to give it to them yet, but I’m glad I have the extra time to really refine the playlist.
I turned in all my homework early today, so I am all about working on the new site… after I drag J to see “The Hunger Games”. I just finished rereading it - for the third time - and want to see if I can find the differences that caused one friend to go on an angry twenty minute cuss fest. (Of course, said friend is looking forward to “Catching Fire”, so they can’t be too pissed off.)
I may take the summer off from classes - my only option is to leave work at noon on Thursdays and take a class in Manchester. It might be worth losing a Saturday or Sunday if I need to make up the hours. My change in meds has made being online after work harder than usual… the eyestrain is ridiculous. If I don’t take the class on Thursdays, I’m stuck until the fall semester. Everything hangs on me taking this stupid prereq, and they never seem to offer it!!!!
Oh well… it is what it is and it will be what it will be. Can’t do anything about it, so I might as well just move on.
