“NEWSFLASH! Worlds’ Biggest Five-Year-Old* Turns 35 (in human years) In 18 Days!!!”
eesh. I am wondering if I will just wake up, see the sun and turn to !@#$ dust! I mean, who EVER thinks they’ll be THIRTY-FIVE one day. Five years from (EEEEEEEEE!) FORTY. I mean, ME. OLD. whoa.
I’m glad I’m here (in the world) and all, no doubt about it, but this whole getting old thing is a bit intimidating. It’s also sort of compulsive, in ways that you don’t think about. Yes, you must get older, but does one really have to say things like “YOU KIDS ARE MAKIN’ ME CRAZY!” and “When I was your age/when WE were kids… [fill in blank with anything that you ALLEGEDLY did not do that kids THESE days are doing that is annoying and/or rude or with generic thing that was better in the 70’s**…]!”? It happens, and you don’t even see it coming!
30 didn’t bother me. In fact, it was nice. It felt like a good transition – a milestone. 35 just feels like a STONE. In actuality, I don’t feel much different on the outside. But inside my little rattly-coconut-head, I am starting to have some serious “sand-running-out” thoughts. I’ve had several nights of panic about whether I will ever see any more of the world, whether I will be able to learn even a small fraction of what I want to, whether I will ever be all that I can be AND find time to properly stalk Vin… see? It’s a quandary.
I think the only way to cope – for the time being – is to plan small, keep myself occupied, be myself... I am having (hopefully) two birthday celebrations. One will be going fishing and having a cookout with the extended Geek/Rennie family, maybe on the 24th; and then having a Gigantor Blowout Good Time at Dragoncon with the Geek Patrol (TOBIE’S FIRST CON!!! YAY!! MY first Dragoncon -my first ANY ‘con in 14 or so years- as a fan… ee.)
There are also some BIG plans in the works. I am thinking about Serious Grown-up Stuff for the first time in my life. These are plans for things that will make a BIG difference in the long-run… but more about that, later.
Speaking of the long-run, what’s really keeping me going lately is a thought that’s become a sort of mantra for me:
”Sam-‘n-a-beach…Sam-‘n-a-beach…Sam-‘n-a-beach…”
‘has a nice ring to it, dunnit? : )
Tide pools, lounge chairs, happy-frisbee-dogs and portable work to you all,
-sam
*other than Bjork***, of course. But I think I really can claim the title, because I am definitely bigger than she is.
**these things are sadly rare. They include cartoons, candy, violence in schools, and behavior in libraries
***THE Queen Mum, Mother Ship of the Universal Order of Bink - in case you didn't know.
Saturday, August 02, 2003
Friday, August 01, 2003
I realized that, as soon as I’d made up my mind to getthe!@#$outtahere, I could see the beauty of this place with less pain and frustration. Maybe that’s how we should all try to be, all the time, about everything - but it seems very true that “you don’t know what you ‘got ‘till it’s gone…” I need to explore this aspect of my psyche more. Maybe it’s natural, maybe it’s zen, maybe it’s just me… I will write more as I figure it out.
One of my family members - one that I love dearly, one that I know loves me, but who is nonetheless sometimes a VERY negative person – asked me the other night “Sam, when did you fall out of love with the mountains? You were SO ready to go there.” I thought for a moment, and said with utter truth – “I never fell in love with them. I just needed to make a decision quickly so i could get away from there.” I've always thought this was one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever seen or been. The weather here is wonderful ¾ of the year, and there is an abundance of amazing creativity here. But it’s beauty is dangerous and oppressive, the ¼ of the year that the weather is bad, it is unbearably miserable (and dangerous), and the creativity is in a lot of cases jealously guarded, meagerly shared, narrow in it’s perspective, and controversial outside of the expected “norm”. I’d truly hoped that I might fall in love with the mountains, but I know that I will never cease to be an outsider and oddball here, and I will never acclimate to the terrain and the winters.
I have met some people here that I don’t ever want to lose contact with. I have learned a lot, and I have enjoyed some lovely days and nights here. But there’s always been a sharp edge. I’m willing to accept the fact that I may always be near the edge, no matter where I go, but frankly, I am tired of doing it alone. I’ve been so frustrated about the pressure of feeling so unprotected and so singular. Society’s answer is “GET A MAN!”, but that is DEFINITELY not my answer. I’ve even had some people tell me that if I didn’t get a man and have some kids, then I would be alone forever and there would be no one to take care of me when I get old. Who wants to live in a world where that’s even an acceptable consideration? What kind of reason is THAT for commitment and children? I would throw in the towel before I would ever accept a life like that. Ever. If I ever fall in love again, it will be for love's sake and nothing more. It will be obvious, instantaneous, passionate and undeniably real. It will certainly not be based on any kind of practical, so-called "reality" or necessity. Nothing less will do. I would rather be alone forever than settle for anything less than my ideal. I'll settle on a car, a book to read, something for dinner, a place to buy gas, a movie to watch, even a house and a job, but not a partner. You can write that in your family bible.
I have been torn for years now between the need for safety and some protection, for the company of someone that I could truly trust and lean on a little in the very worst of times, and between my fierce need for independence and freedom. Not to mention the fact that, in my way, I am desperately private and selective. I have some good, dear friends here, but none that I can trust the way I need to, or would be able to lean on if things got truly bad. Not to say that my friends here wouldn’t help me with anything – they would, and they have come through in some dire straits. But as bad as those times seemed to them, and even to me, they were not the worst of times, and luckily (for me) they didn’t exceed my limits of what I could ask of friends. But if I got sick, was badly injured, or if things hit true rock bottom, financially, mentally, emotionally… I would be unable to go to them, and they would be unable to understand.
As it is, there are only five people in the world that know me well enough to understand all of this. One of them is barely able to take care himself, one of them has a life-full of her own responsibilities (but I know that if I really needed her, she would be there), one has his own life, and has become distant from me, out of a combination of necessity and Brownian motion in the last ten years (but I also feel that if I truly needed him, he would not hesitate to come to my aid). The other two are there for me, and it's just up to me to be wise, accept their help as much as I can without taking advantage, be sure that I make their trust and effort worthwhile, and thank the Goddess that I have this many people that I can feel close to.
I guess I really am a delicate tropical hothouse flower. I need to be in a place that gets more sun, less winter, I need gardeners that are familiar with my species, and I need to be around other flowers like me, so that I can propagate.
Propagate: prop·a·gate [pr?pp e gàyt]
1. vti BIOLOGY reproduce organism: to reproduce a plant or animal or, cause one to reproduce
2. vti GARDENING create new plants: to multiply plants by the use of seeds or cuttings
3. vt spread something widely: to spread ideas or customs to many people
4. vti PHYSICS impel something forward: to move or transmit something forward in space, especially as a light or sound wave
[Late 16th century. From Latin propagare “to breed plants in layers (of vines),” from, ultimately, propago “layer,” literally “planting out,” from an assumed base meaning “to plant.”]
clinging to the rocks for the time being (and praying for some mulch),
-Floribunda Samiosa*
*this sounds like a Hogwarts' style curse, dunnit? like it would make one suddenly sprout big funny looking, sparkly, hallucinogenic and very aggressive flowers. :)
One of my family members - one that I love dearly, one that I know loves me, but who is nonetheless sometimes a VERY negative person – asked me the other night “Sam, when did you fall out of love with the mountains? You were SO ready to go there.” I thought for a moment, and said with utter truth – “I never fell in love with them. I just needed to make a decision quickly so i could get away from there.” I've always thought this was one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever seen or been. The weather here is wonderful ¾ of the year, and there is an abundance of amazing creativity here. But it’s beauty is dangerous and oppressive, the ¼ of the year that the weather is bad, it is unbearably miserable (and dangerous), and the creativity is in a lot of cases jealously guarded, meagerly shared, narrow in it’s perspective, and controversial outside of the expected “norm”. I’d truly hoped that I might fall in love with the mountains, but I know that I will never cease to be an outsider and oddball here, and I will never acclimate to the terrain and the winters.
I have met some people here that I don’t ever want to lose contact with. I have learned a lot, and I have enjoyed some lovely days and nights here. But there’s always been a sharp edge. I’m willing to accept the fact that I may always be near the edge, no matter where I go, but frankly, I am tired of doing it alone. I’ve been so frustrated about the pressure of feeling so unprotected and so singular. Society’s answer is “GET A MAN!”, but that is DEFINITELY not my answer. I’ve even had some people tell me that if I didn’t get a man and have some kids, then I would be alone forever and there would be no one to take care of me when I get old. Who wants to live in a world where that’s even an acceptable consideration? What kind of reason is THAT for commitment and children? I would throw in the towel before I would ever accept a life like that. Ever. If I ever fall in love again, it will be for love's sake and nothing more. It will be obvious, instantaneous, passionate and undeniably real. It will certainly not be based on any kind of practical, so-called "reality" or necessity. Nothing less will do. I would rather be alone forever than settle for anything less than my ideal. I'll settle on a car, a book to read, something for dinner, a place to buy gas, a movie to watch, even a house and a job, but not a partner. You can write that in your family bible.
I have been torn for years now between the need for safety and some protection, for the company of someone that I could truly trust and lean on a little in the very worst of times, and between my fierce need for independence and freedom. Not to mention the fact that, in my way, I am desperately private and selective. I have some good, dear friends here, but none that I can trust the way I need to, or would be able to lean on if things got truly bad. Not to say that my friends here wouldn’t help me with anything – they would, and they have come through in some dire straits. But as bad as those times seemed to them, and even to me, they were not the worst of times, and luckily (for me) they didn’t exceed my limits of what I could ask of friends. But if I got sick, was badly injured, or if things hit true rock bottom, financially, mentally, emotionally… I would be unable to go to them, and they would be unable to understand.
As it is, there are only five people in the world that know me well enough to understand all of this. One of them is barely able to take care himself, one of them has a life-full of her own responsibilities (but I know that if I really needed her, she would be there), one has his own life, and has become distant from me, out of a combination of necessity and Brownian motion in the last ten years (but I also feel that if I truly needed him, he would not hesitate to come to my aid). The other two are there for me, and it's just up to me to be wise, accept their help as much as I can without taking advantage, be sure that I make their trust and effort worthwhile, and thank the Goddess that I have this many people that I can feel close to.
I guess I really am a delicate tropical hothouse flower. I need to be in a place that gets more sun, less winter, I need gardeners that are familiar with my species, and I need to be around other flowers like me, so that I can propagate.
Propagate: prop·a·gate [pr?pp e gàyt]
1. vti BIOLOGY reproduce organism: to reproduce a plant or animal or, cause one to reproduce
2. vti GARDENING create new plants: to multiply plants by the use of seeds or cuttings
3. vt spread something widely: to spread ideas or customs to many people
4. vti PHYSICS impel something forward: to move or transmit something forward in space, especially as a light or sound wave
[Late 16th century. From Latin propagare “to breed plants in layers (of vines),” from, ultimately, propago “layer,” literally “planting out,” from an assumed base meaning “to plant.”]
clinging to the rocks for the time being (and praying for some mulch),
-Floribunda Samiosa*
*this sounds like a Hogwarts' style curse, dunnit? like it would make one suddenly sprout big funny looking, sparkly, hallucinogenic and very aggressive flowers. :)
Thursday, July 31, 2003
I’m reading “Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas”. Never read it before, but of course, I loved the movie. Johnny Depp, Benecio Del Toro*, Terry Gilliam, big fat special effects budget – how could it be anything other than excellent. Of course, I didn’t know until recently how unerringly true it is to not only the text, but the spirit of the book. I like Thompson’s simple, blunt writing style. I prefer him to Ginsberg and Kerouac (though I do have to say that ole’ Jack was a nice-looking man – AND he wrote “whee”** from time to time.) “Fear and Loathing” (in fact, all of his work) is a diary/commentary, basically. His Gonzo Journalism was all about experiencing his life to the edge – and over, if he could get there (and I think he did, quite often sometimes) and then writing about it, so that other people could have a sense of what he felt – without having to be so… “unsafe”. Without having to take the dangerous, insane, very visceral route that he did. He likes to live, to experience things to the nth degree, and he likes to share his opinions and feelings. (And he’d probably puke if he read this sappy girlie, bloody-hearted sounding description of him, too. But it’s true, and if he promises not to bring his gun, I’ll fight him over it…)
What I was thinking as I was reading last night was “Y’know… maybe that’s what I am – a Gonzo Journalist… but then I realized that I’m probably more of a Fozzie.
Yeah. There’s more tender humor to my reporting, more sentimentality, and a LOT less drugs. Whoa. I tend to not see lizards unless they’re running into the cracks in my steps (and they are definitely real, unless Luna is hallucinating, too). And I just don’t have the desire to randomly shoot things with giant guns. (I’d MUCH rather hit them with big sticks.)
Plus, my jokes are usually really, really bad.
Nonetheless, there’s a bit of Gonzo in me. I feel it surging in my head when I try to get to sleep, when I wake up with my jaw clenched and my fists tight. I think that’s the part of me that longs to strike out and walk the railroad tracks until they end and then find a dim bar, have a few drinks, listen to something sad on the jukebox and clobber somebody. It’s the part of me that wants to find out what the dark side of China and the bright side of New York is really about. It’s the part that wants to rant at intersections, tell my boss (and the government and my mother and preachers and teachers and Men…) to !@#$ OFF, the part that wishes I’d been with my brother and the Tuareg for that 400+ mile camel trek from Bamako to Tombouctou***…
I love being a woman, all my special powers mean a lot to me, but I rail and rage against the fact that I don’t have the power and safety that a man has… if I were a man, I’d be a LOT more Gonzo and a lot less Fozzie… it’s hard to live alone, work alone, drink alone, travel alone, be left alone. Maybe in my next lifetime…
For now, I’m dealing with the semi-Gonzo realization that it’s simply easier for me to love something when I know that I’m going to lose it – and all the other realizations that come with that. The why’s, how’s, and what-the-hell’s of it all. I hope I live long enough to understand me a little better. That would be so nice.
More about that, later. I promise.
And Ellie and Joe. I would love y’all both, no matter what (I think y’all know that by now), but I want you to know that you are more dear to me than either of you will ever know.
Much love,
-Sam
*not to mention, Tobey Maguire, Ellen Barkin, Gary Busey, Christina Ricci, Mark Harmon, Cameron Diaz, Katherine Helmond, Michael Jeter, Penn Jillette, Lyle Lovette, Flea, Harry Dean Stanton and Laraine Newman.
**”Oh, man,' said Dean to me as we stood in front of a bar, 'dig the street of life, the Chinamen that cut by in Chicago. What a weird town--wow, and that woman in that window up there, just looking down with her big breasts hanging from her nightgown, big wide eyes. Whee. Sal, we gotta go and never stop going till we get there.’”
***I can’t believe you got rid of that axe, Joe! I would love to have had that! : ) I’m just happy I got to SEE it!
What I was thinking as I was reading last night was “Y’know… maybe that’s what I am – a Gonzo Journalist… but then I realized that I’m probably more of a Fozzie.
Yeah. There’s more tender humor to my reporting, more sentimentality, and a LOT less drugs. Whoa. I tend to not see lizards unless they’re running into the cracks in my steps (and they are definitely real, unless Luna is hallucinating, too). And I just don’t have the desire to randomly shoot things with giant guns. (I’d MUCH rather hit them with big sticks.)
Plus, my jokes are usually really, really bad.
Nonetheless, there’s a bit of Gonzo in me. I feel it surging in my head when I try to get to sleep, when I wake up with my jaw clenched and my fists tight. I think that’s the part of me that longs to strike out and walk the railroad tracks until they end and then find a dim bar, have a few drinks, listen to something sad on the jukebox and clobber somebody. It’s the part of me that wants to find out what the dark side of China and the bright side of New York is really about. It’s the part that wants to rant at intersections, tell my boss (and the government and my mother and preachers and teachers and Men…) to !@#$ OFF, the part that wishes I’d been with my brother and the Tuareg for that 400+ mile camel trek from Bamako to Tombouctou***…
I love being a woman, all my special powers mean a lot to me, but I rail and rage against the fact that I don’t have the power and safety that a man has… if I were a man, I’d be a LOT more Gonzo and a lot less Fozzie… it’s hard to live alone, work alone, drink alone, travel alone, be left alone. Maybe in my next lifetime…
For now, I’m dealing with the semi-Gonzo realization that it’s simply easier for me to love something when I know that I’m going to lose it – and all the other realizations that come with that. The why’s, how’s, and what-the-hell’s of it all. I hope I live long enough to understand me a little better. That would be so nice.
More about that, later. I promise.
And Ellie and Joe. I would love y’all both, no matter what (I think y’all know that by now), but I want you to know that you are more dear to me than either of you will ever know.
Much love,
-Sam
*not to mention, Tobey Maguire, Ellen Barkin, Gary Busey, Christina Ricci, Mark Harmon, Cameron Diaz, Katherine Helmond, Michael Jeter, Penn Jillette, Lyle Lovette, Flea, Harry Dean Stanton and Laraine Newman.
**”Oh, man,' said Dean to me as we stood in front of a bar, 'dig the street of life, the Chinamen that cut by in Chicago. What a weird town--wow, and that woman in that window up there, just looking down with her big breasts hanging from her nightgown, big wide eyes. Whee. Sal, we gotta go and never stop going till we get there.’”
***I can’t believe you got rid of that axe, Joe! I would love to have had that! : ) I’m just happy I got to SEE it!
Sunday, July 27, 2003
dear diary,
myehn myehn myeh myeh, myehn...
KZZZT!
THIS B*!@# SESSION HAS BEEN INTERRUPTED* IN ORDER TO BRING YOU A SPECIAL ANNOUNCEMENT!
'Day Off' has been completely updated today! There is a fat new photo gallery, a new art gallery, a new HOTTIE (woo!), and 3 (yes, THREE!!) brand new “Days Off”, catching y’all up on some my latest adventures (prepare to print, and get out the magnifying glass. and PLEASE don’t hurt yourself falling off of computer chairs trying to read upside down!)
Ellie, happy birthday. #26 is yours to keep and frame. I can mail it along with your negatives if you so desire. Joe, warning: get out the kleenex again, but only for laugh-tears this time!
Buffy, same goes for you, I would like to prezzie you with #27, you can hang it up (IN THE NEW HOUSE!) next to #22. Thanks so much for being GIRRLZ with me last Saturday night, I needed it. And in response to your question, I get the energy from: my mom's genes, the music, and a desperate built-up need to SHAKE MY GROOVE THANG! :D
Rick and all the guys in Sevenmoore - thanks again for inviting me out. As if you can't tell, I had a BALL - even if y'all DIDN'T "play some skynrd, man!" ;)
Thank you all (EXCEPT FOR THE !@#$ BOARD OF COMMISSIONERS) for the inspiration, photo-ops, abs & biceps**, and gin and tonics***. I do hope you enjoy the outcome.
MUCH love,
-Sambolina
*YAY!
**well...
***yes, seamus, i did think of you.
myehn myehn myeh myeh, myehn...
KZZZT!
THIS B*!@# SESSION HAS BEEN INTERRUPTED* IN ORDER TO BRING YOU A SPECIAL ANNOUNCEMENT!
'Day Off' has been completely updated today! There is a fat new photo gallery, a new art gallery, a new HOTTIE (woo!), and 3 (yes, THREE!!) brand new “Days Off”, catching y’all up on some my latest adventures (prepare to print, and get out the magnifying glass. and PLEASE don’t hurt yourself falling off of computer chairs trying to read upside down!)
Ellie, happy birthday. #26 is yours to keep and frame. I can mail it along with your negatives if you so desire. Joe, warning: get out the kleenex again, but only for laugh-tears this time!
Buffy, same goes for you, I would like to prezzie you with #27, you can hang it up (IN THE NEW HOUSE!) next to #22. Thanks so much for being GIRRLZ with me last Saturday night, I needed it. And in response to your question, I get the energy from: my mom's genes, the music, and a desperate built-up need to SHAKE MY GROOVE THANG! :D
Rick and all the guys in Sevenmoore - thanks again for inviting me out. As if you can't tell, I had a BALL - even if y'all DIDN'T "play some skynrd, man!" ;)
Thank you all (EXCEPT FOR THE !@#$ BOARD OF COMMISSIONERS) for the inspiration, photo-ops, abs & biceps**, and gin and tonics***. I do hope you enjoy the outcome.
MUCH love,
-Sambolina
*YAY!
**well...
***yes, seamus, i did think of you.
