Good day, good peoples. Pardon me if my rant is a bit (more than usually) fuzzy, I haven’t been getting much sleep lately… oh, no complaints, mind you, just a fact. Whee!

Also, I must apologize for the infrequency of my rants. I only have one place where I can use a computer for writing, and lately I have been VERY busy, both during the daylight and after-work hours, and I HOPE that I am at least giving you quality instead of quantity (ok, some of both) when I DO write! Big stuff is happening at work, the state libob is hosting a 3-day workshop @ my branch, and the STATE !@#$ LIBRARY DIRECTOR will be here. AUGH!
Oh, for some Calgon – and thank GODDESS for Mrs. Sallie Corley Phillips (my lovely assistant). She is like an angel (ok, a really goofy, slightly trashy*, VERY earthly one) sent from on high. When things are bad, Sillie Sallie can ALWAYS make me laugh, and together, we actually get $#*! done. Yay, me! I really don’t know what I’d do without her now.

So, news…
Looks like the faire is ALIVE! Woo! There was a little while when we were all worried (and veryvery alliterative) – SOME naysayers even pronounced it flat-line dead at one point – but certainly not without just cause. But the hardest part – getting a !@#$ committee together and in-sync has been achieved. Lisa and I knocked out a good storyline during our trip back from NOLA**, based on a suggestion I’d made back in early summer, and there was an unanimous yes vote on it! Fairy tales it is! I will be helping with the sets, and as far as I know, helping to direct the Chessboard, too. I have a couple of roles in mind for the audition, as well…
The biggest change is that we are going to get away from the medieval theme some (but not completely) and try to make it more kid-friendly and more educational. The idea this year is to take traditional fairy tale characters, scenes and situations and shake them up a bit. We’re going to balance that out by having a narrator and other story tellers also telling the traditional tales as well. I think it will be great fun, and that it will please and amuse everyone.

There’s a bit of sad news, too.
One of my long-time library patrons, Mr. Hugh Morgan died last week. Hugh was an interesting character, to say the very least. He was older, I’d say around 60, but he still had jet-black teddy-boy, ducktail hair and dressed like a 50’s teen. Immaculate cuffed jeans, pressed plaid or western shirts, boots, and a denim jacket. He always looked sharp, and usually smelled nice.
He came downtown every day and sat on one particular bench right outside Thompson’s’ General Store, and usually he always had a kind word to say***
Hugh lived with his mother, always had, and not surprisingly, she died only a couple of weeks before he did. Hugh was paranoid-schizophrenic, and he couldn’t read, or at least, not very much. He was often engaged in conversation with his “Little People”, who went everywhere with him, but he was never scary. He was actually a pretty sweet old guy. Every time he came into the library, he would stop in the little foyer and I could hear him instructing his Little People to be quiet while they were in here. (Oh, if only everyone was so considerate!) He always checked out movies, and his favorites were “The Gods Must be Crazy” 1 & 2. The reason that he enjoyed them so much – beside the fact that they are really wonderful, sweet funny movies, is that he believed that the lead actor - N! Xau – was his cousin. The fact that Hugh was a Caucasian/possibly American Indian man and N! is a Bushman from the Kalahari apparently didn’t really matter… He accrued late fees fairly often, because I don’t think he really understood the whole return-date phenomenon, but he never argued or groused about paying them. He would often say that he couldn’t pay until he got his government check, and he always came in when he said the check would be there and squared up. (Again, I say: if only everyone was so considerate…)
Apparently Hugh had cancer. If you asked how he was, he would list his general complaints, like we all do, and catch you up on his mom’s health, too. He had been having flu-like bouts lately, but he didn’t even know that he had cancer. I suspect that this was a blessing in a way. I certainly hope so.
Every day there have been offerings at the bench, baskets and bundles of flowers, but the bench still looks empty, and I miss his gravelly greeting – even if it was sometimes calling attention to the size of my tracts of land. :)
I think the world is like a puzzle sometimes, and you know how it is with puzzles. Some of the pieces are fairly straightforward, “oh, this is a duck – it goes here…”, some pieces, like corner and edge pieces are very important, and help to hold the whole thing together, some pieces are oddly shaped and obscure, but if even one of them – any one of them - is lost, then the whole puzzle is just never the same.
Thank goodness that you can make art from the odd pieces, huh?

And on an upbeat note… I am experiencing mad-boy-joy.
Huh?
As one of my friends said when I called and said “I think I have a boyfriend!”: “Sam, are you allright?!?!”
I am. As is completely to be expected, it’s a typical sam-love situation wherein I cannot even try to think about pretending to take the whole thing seriously in any “real-world” (“future” – gaaah!; “commitment” – gaaaaaH!!” “relationship” – GAAH@! etc.) sense of the word, but in the whole Queen Magpie, Empress of the Universe, Irrational Girl - Real-Me sense of the word (“joyful fun”, “great company”, “great conversation”, “like-mindedness”, “tender concern”, “great …” whatever. Etc. : ), it’s all just duck-lovely.
He’s a good friend, has been for some years. He’s very beautiful (chuh!), he’s really, really, unbelievably sweet and funny and kinda’ pleasantly dorky (yes, he’s a geek, he likes punk-rock and 80’s cheese – and most other music, he plays MAGIC, is a theatre vet and RTF student, loves and truly appreciates movies, and has a sartorial flair and elegance that I have always admired) and we have a really good time together.
He’s the first beau I’ve had since I’ve moved here that I not only want to bring around my friends (especially as he already knows a lot of them), but who wants to BE around my friends. And saints be praised – Stewart likes him and he likes Stewart!!!. This means a great deal to me. I know Stewart will probably get hives when he reads this next statement, but he really is my closest, most real boy-family here. Yes, that means brother, dad, uncle. I’ve got lots of other brothers, but none of those other others.****. He’s the big, responsible guy that looks after me and keeps me in line and helps me take care of the important things. This is a BIG job sometimes. He’s the emergency contact person, the one who knows me best, the one who, if something were to happen to me, could actually tell my family what in the hell I want done with my dog/stuff/body/etc. He’s the Royal Steward, no doubt. We go everywhere together (except !@#$ Burnsville) and when I am seeing someone and there is disapproval (not necessarily on Stewart’s part) or just sheer “hiding-out-of-shame”, then that cuts down on my fun Stewart and fun everybody else time, and that just bloody sucks. This nice bloke however, has gone on two big outings (Charlotte ren-faire and “Kill Bill”) with me and Stewart in the last week or so, and it has been sheer joy. They geek out and talk about... hell, I don’t know, I don’t listen, but that’s ok. It gives me more time to bask in – well, whatever the weather and mood is and have pleasant conversations with the imaginary fishes and passing trees.
I also suspect that he will blend (ie: be a complete nerd and play magic and eat good food and entertain himself/my friends/the kids) with my beloved Asheville/Rennie/
Geek Patrol crew, too.
YAY, ME!
And this, too. Not to kiss and tell (ew) but I just have to share a little. For the time being, for as long as it lasts, this is how he is, how he treats me (and he says I deserve it, and I know I do): yesterday he came by my work to say hi and let me see his cuteness… I complimented him on his “Walk Among Us” button (has always been my favorite Misfits art) and he took it off and pinned it on my sweater. Moo. Then, he was supposed to go to a party last night, so I went home to finish the flytrap tape I was making for him and clean house a little. I had brownies in the oven, the tape was almost done, laundry was tumbling, house all cozy, when Luna started the “SOMEBODY’S HERE!” barking. I thought “Who the !@#$ is here at this hour?!” – but BIG surprise, it was Mr. Smooshy-Boy! He hadn’t been able to meet up with the party people so he thought it might be ok to drop in. : ) While I was finishing the tape, we talked and laughed about the day, and then while we listened to the tape we played “air band” (he’s really good at it – almost as good as me! And I’ve never had anybody to play lead guitar, or any other instrument for that matter… it’s always just been me - “a girl and her air guitar”) and then while I finished making the case we laughed about my sad, cheesy taste in music and slow-danced in my dining room to my fave Jeff Buckley original. After that, we ate brownies and soymilk in my bed and before I went to sleep we skwooched up and he read me the first chapter of one of his favorite books (and not some dumb, cool boy book, either – a really gripping Southern Fiction novel by Donna Tartt (who was born and raised not far from my own home town).
So, MOOO!
Please don’t worry – those of you who worry. I am too old and too @!#$ realistic to be too dumb about this, but anybody who could blame me for “carpe momentum” needs a kick in the ass. Pain in life is a given, but joy is something that you have to look for, work for, and make the most of while you have it.
Make the most of it folks.
Much love,
-Miss “Going to Carve Pumpkins Tonight with my Asheville Fam” Sam


*in a good way
**btw, there are trip-pics at my ‘amusesam’ yahoo group, in the photo albums. Checkem’ out!
***I say this because the second to last time I saw him there as I was walking down the sidewalk he said “Girl, you’re gettin’ too fat!” I said “Hugh, don’t make me come over there and knock you offa’ that bench!”
****No Dr. Seuss jokes, please! And yes, I DO like green eggs and ham, thankyouverymuch!

Well, if i ever had ANY doubt that the Magpie was my "spirit animal", this pretty much blasts it into oblivion. Thank you, dear Hamilton for passing this on. It fortifies my spirit and my belief in myself (uh-oh, I'm gonna take over the world, now!), and really kinda' freaks me out with it's accuracy regarding my nature...
I've only been called "Magpie" since I met Sarah (Crowgirl - CG) so only a few years, but it's obvious I've been one my whole life.
Here are some neat facts and legends:

Intelligence
Like other members of the Crow family, Magpies can be very interesting to watch. They are social birds with a degree of intelligence that has enabled them to adapt to a changing environment.

In common with jackdaws, magpies are attracted to shiny objects(who, me?) and are notorious for stealing rings and other jewellery left on windowsills or tables out of doors.

Part Two FOLKLORE

China
The Chinese traditionally see the magpie as a bird of good fortune, except if you kill one when misfortune will arrive. Magpie is a symbol of happiness in Chinese culture. The singing of a magpie foretells happiness and good luck. That's why it is called 'Happy Magpie' by Chinese people. The Manchu minority in Northeast China even regards magpies as sacred birds. . Under the Manchu dynasty it also represented imperial rule (yeah, baby!). Legends concerning magpies are found in the historical records about Manchu. (By Ye Qinfa, China Online)

In both Chinese and Korean myths the Magpie Bridge joins the 3 bright stars of Aquila in the night sky, called the Cowherd, to Lyra, or the Spinning Damsel, across the river that is the Milky Way. This happens on the 7th night of the 7th moon.

Korea
Koreans believed that magpies delivered good news and invited good people (NO DOUBT!).The most famous painting related to a magpie is the one with striped tiger (ggach'i wha horangi minhwa): the magpie is happily chirping to a tiger. The magpie represented good news and the tiger symbolised good luck, since its pronunciation in Chinese sounds similar to good luck (bok).Another interpretation states that the magpie is the village spirit that announces good omens, and the tiger is the servant that does his bidding; another that the tiger is a yangban (aristocrat) and the magpie is the representative of the common people, scolding him for his insensitivity to their plight.
(Korean Symbolism of Animals & Birds)

Mongolia
The Magpie is a clever creature with control of the weather.(whoa!!!)

Germany
In Germany the number of birds, according to tradition, indicated forthcoming events. One is viewed as unlucky; two brings merriment or marriage; three is a successful journey; four is good news and five indicates you should expect company.

France
In Poitou* there still lingers a trace of pie-worship (WOOHOO!); viz. a bunch of heath and laurel is tied to the top of a high tree in honour of the magpie, because her chatter warns the people of the wolf's approach: 'porter la crêpe (pancake) a la pie,' Mém. des antiq. 8, 451.

Scandinavia
Under Christianity the same shift of superstition from lucky to unlucky occurred in Norse countries as across the rest of Europe. In old Norse mythology, Skadi (the daughter of a giant) was a priestess of the magpie clan. The black and white markings of the magpie were seen to represents sexual union, as well as male and female energies kept in balance. Later on in time, Scandinavians thought that magpies were sorcerers flying to unholy gatherings, and yet the nesting magpie was once considered a sign of luck in those countries.

Italy
The Magpie features in a Rossini opera, The Thieving Magpie, or La gazza ladra. This opera tells the story of a pet magpie that steals shiny objects, resulting in an innocent servant almost being sent to the gallows after being accused of the magpie's crimes. The story echoes the common belief that magpies steal and hide shiny objects. In some countries it is thought to chatter in a way that sounds like human speech. For example, in Italy it is known as gazza, and has given its name to gazetta, the Italian for newspaper.

Greece
It was sacred to Bacchus, the God of wine, so it became associated with intoxication. (!!!)

Britain
An old English tradition notes that if one magpie flies by, you should take your hat off and bow(yeah! Bow, Seamus!) repeating this line :
"Morning/Afternoon Mr Magpie. How's Mrs Magpie and all the little Magpies?"
This will help assure your good luck throughout the day.

One seen flying or croaking around a house or sitting alone symbolises that misfortune is present. Should a flock of magpies suddenly abandon a nesting area then, like the crow and rook, death is present and hard times are ahead. To avoid bad luck it is said that taking your hat off to the passing birds will act as protection against darker forces (see!). Perhaps these associations stem from the fact that it was the only bird that would not enter the Ark preferring to stay outside. It is one of the very birds that also has black and white plumage, a combination of the sacred or holy colour (white) and of evil (black).
To have one perch on your roof though is supposed to indicate that the house will never fall down. According to tradition it would be best to rearrange a journey if you see just one. If one is seen on the way to church it signifies that death is present, hence some believe that it is best to cross yourself to ward off evil or negative energies whilst saying 'Devil, Devil, I defy thee'.

In Somerset, England it was once thought that to carry an onion at all times would provide protection against magpies.

In Scotland the magpie was once believed to carry a drop of the Devil's blood under its tongue which perhaps stems from another belief that the magpie was the only bird not to wear full mourning at the Crucifixion.

The following rhyme was popularised by a children's TV programme of the same name
"One for sorrow, two for joy, three for a girl, four for a boy, five for silver, six for gold and seven for a secret never to be told."

Legend also has it that when a magpie's mate dies it summons an assembly of other magpies at which the dead bird is honoured before a new mate is selected.

In Celtic lore the bird was sacred to 'MAGOG.'

Australia
The magpie is seen in a negative, aggressive light. This may be because the Australian Magpie is of the Shrike (an aggressive hunter) family rather than the Crow family.

Native American
In general in Native American myth the Magpie is seen as the ally and helper of humans. They feature in legends from the Navaho, Blackfoot and Cheyenne


Part Three MAGIC
Magpie: "one of those clever birds that has shamanic qualities"

Symbolism
Related to the crow the magpie is an intelligent and adaptable bird. Ancient folklore associated with the magpie suggests that when two or more fly into ones life good fortune is coming soon. Since magpies are opportunists and seldom miss a chance to get something for nothing those with this medicine should pay attention to subtle omens that appear in their life then act accordingly so opportunities are not missed. The magpie asks us to wake up and be conscious in every area of our life.
Magpies are curious and have a reputation for stealing anything that they can carry away. They use whatever they find and teach us how to be resourceful. Magpie medicine people have the ability to succeed in life. Those with this totem are usually eclectic and able to draw on a variety of resources to assist them in their pursuits. Being able to adapt to different situations in a spontaneous way is one of the magpies strongest attributes. Those with this totem often find that their interests are varied which make master ship of any one thing difficult although not impossible.
Magpies are extremely vocal especially in groups. They help those with this medicine learn how to use their voice to attract attention, attain desired goals as well as acquire respect from others. This applies only if this medicine is developed sufficiently. Otherwise the voice and its expression may need improvement for positive results to be obtained. Proper communication is one of the lessons that needs to be learned by magpie medicine people .

Although many in the Norse tradition associate the Magpie with Skadi, because of the similarity of the name, I associate the Magpie with Loki's daughter Hel. Hel is described as having a face that is 'half blue-black and half flesh (or white) coloured' - like the Magpie's colouring. She rules the lowest of the Nine Worlds, at the base of Yggdrasil, as mistress of the chthonic mysteries. Like Asgardhr, Helheim (Hel's home) cannot be reached directly from Midgardhr - one must "ride over a bridge", or travel between worlds with the aid of one´s fylgia (usually a totem or sacred animal or Soul Companion and Guide). The bridge to Helheim crosses the river Gjoll and its guarded by the giant Maiden Modgudh. As Bifrost is fiery and narrow, the bridge to Helheim is icy and wide.

Helheim is also called Niflhel, meaning Misty Hel or Dark Hel, which refers to the Goddess´ primary aspect of concealment. Hel borders very closely on the world Nifheimr; it is located down and to the North, and it is the implied location of the venom-filled halls, on Na Strand, and home of the dragon Niddhogg, embodiment of the concealed powers of destruction/transformation. Hel is the hidden root to which all things sink, as all the waters wend their way to Hvergelmir, and from which all things rise again.

Although the realm of Hel is described as horrible in parts - the lifeless, lightless, joyless dwelling of the dead. It is written elsewhere that Hel is brightly bedecked and hospitable. She welcomes those who die of sickness, famine or old-age and even Balder resides there after his death. This dual nature can be seen in the figure of the goddess Hel herself: She is half a beautiful woman and half a corpse, her concealment both that of the womb and that of the tomb. Hel receives those souls who cannot struggle through to Valhalla, but in time, as her name Mother Holle suggests, she bears them forth again.

All of this tells us that the Magpie can be a double-edged sword. It requires mastery of your magpie spirit to achieve things, unmastered it will be self-destructive. Gossip, or uncontrolled chatter, and an unreasoning attraction to shiny things - be it materialistic objects, people or an inability to concentrate - spells danger just as oratory, or controlled chatter, concentration and the quick opportunistic observation can be used to devastating effect.

Naming
Name - Meaning - Language
-Mo'e'ha - Magpie - Cheyenne
-Maggie - Chattering female - Old English
-Magpie - Piebald chatterer - English
-ska?i [[skathe,]] (old norse), skata (swedish), skade (danish), scado (old high
german -hur!-) = harm, damage; loss; death - which may be referred to the abstract
notion of damnum
-pioghaid - Piebald? Or pighead (I RESEMBLE THAT REMARK!) - Gaelic
-Pia, pioden - piebald - Welsh

Tokens and Artwork:
The Magpie is difficult to find - both in the wild and your local shop! In Korea they appear in artwork and there is Monet's picture 'Magpie in winter' but other than that they are few and far between. Your best bet is to try and find a feather and wear it as a token just as the Cheyenne do.

The Tao Ying yang amulet would also be a good token as the Ying-yang symbolises the black and white of the Magpie and it's the sort of bright thing that would attract them. The number 7 is a significant number for Magpie people.

Sacred Times
Spring and Autumn - the black and white colour of the Magpie represents the balance between light and dark that occurs around the equinoxes. Also the high winds and changeable weather reminds us of the stormy change that the Magpie can bring into life. Dusk and dawn are the times to see Magpies and much like the equinoxes they are times when the balance between light and dark is equal.

The other time is dawn and dusk - a time when you are likely to see Magpie's cleaning the road.

The Magpie is also a symbol of astral travel.

**********************************

The Magpie

By Robert S. Warshow, '33

I walked one day
In the Garden of Wasted Things,
And there I found
The bitter ghosts of all that had been spent unwisely,
Or lost through brutal circumstance.
I found the childhood
That some labourer's child had never known;
I found the youth that some young man had squandered;
There I found some poet's genius
That had gone unrecognised.
I saw the ghosts of idle words,
And small talk,
That men had used to waste away the hours.
I saw the hopes that had been smothered,
And all the dreams
That never had come true,
And Laughter that had died for lack of bread.
I met with all the lives that had been misdirected,
And spoke with dreary shades
Of loves that might have been,
And songs that never had been sung.
I met with all these ghosts,
And many more;
And each of them
Sat silently in the shadows,
Brooding over quirks of mad Creation,
And puppets' dreams.

*************************

Once again there aren't many traditional songs or chants that can be used to invoke Magpie. I often use the trance method (as mentioned below) to fly across the otherworld (uh huh. that an' a lotta magic mushrooms, 'probly).

Prophecy and Divination
You can use the traditional nursery rhyme:
One for sorrow, Two for joy, Three for a girl, Four for a boy, Five for Silver, Six for Gold, Seven for a secret never to be told
Or
One for sorrow, Two for mirth, Three for a wedding, Four for a birth.
Five for rich, Six for poor, Seven for a witch -- I can tell you no more.

For other tools things like mirrors that contain both dark and light, or other shiny objects would attract the Magpie spirit.

Dreamwork
In dreams the Magpie will signify opportunities coming into your life. The number seen will help signify what you should expect.

Magic Circles
When drawing the circle dress yourself in black and white and try alternate leg hopping (or visualisations as mentioned in trance below). You can dress in formal wear, a black bowler hat and tailcoat, with your thumbs in your waistcoat (just like in the old films), then bend yourself double, spread your arms out, spread your fingers wide and swoop round the circle to get that magpie feeling.

Trance:
I find that visualising the Magpie's movement, the way it hops, flexes it's tail and flies is the key to trance work. The brightness of it's beady eye will draw you in…

If you have a magpie spirit guide, once you get used to the visualisation, it becomes a hop, hop, fly to shift into the magpie.

Healing
************************
FAIRY OF THE MAGPIE BRIDGE

Poem by Qin Guan
Translation by Kylie Hsu

Among the beautiful clouds,
Over the heavenly river,
Crosses the weaving maiden.

A night of rendezvous,
Across the autumn sky,
Surpasses joy on earth.

Moments of tender love and dream,
So sad to leave the magpie bridge.

Eternal love between us two,
Shall withstand the time apart.

************************

The Magpie is a strong healer for relationships, particularly those emotional hurts. In Chinese legend a bridge of Magpies is used for two star-crossed lovers to meet. It is the magpie's faithfulness to their partners and families which you can invoke to send a message to the Gods.
Try burning this poem or a drawing of the magpie with incense to speed the message on it's way.
******************
Protection

Magpie meal awaits:
Fast car - country lane - danger,
Fawn dead on roadside.

Haiku - DaRC
******************
Magpie's are excellent protectors and will call out their 'Caw, caw, caw' warning. So in that way forewarned is forearmed. They are also masters of evasion - often using the two of them to do the old 'one-two' on any opponent.
Invoke the Australian magpie for the fearless, aggressive aspect especially when protecting friends or family.


this all came from a REALLY cool site called The Druid's Grove!
the magpie info came from "Druid Lore" page - and here's the Raven link for my Crow family.
*as soon as i learn to pronounce it, i'm movin' there! ;)

Something strange has begun to dawn on me…
Despite everything (the fact that I am 1,000 years old, that I am 4 pounds shy of the heaviest I ever been in my life, that I am funny looking, I dress like a cross between a Laurel dyke(only the Mississippi peeps - and Stewart - will get this one), Oscar Wilde and a bag lady, I HATE to !@#$ shave, my house looks like a wizards’ hovel, my gramma’s house and a bookstore/art shop exploded, and I can be a really annoying and dumb person sometimes… for starters) – I am a “Hot Girl.”
How is this possible? How did this happen? How have I not really known this all along? And why I am I having such a hard time believing it?
Well, I guess the answers to all of these questions are fairly obvious. It’s possible because the world is a very strange place, and I know that and move through it (usually) bravely and with curiosity and some insight. How did this happen? Genetics, for a beginning – my parents and grandparents were all desirable, interesting people, my siblings and cousins are an odd but mesmerizing mixed bunch of sirens. My strange life and my attitude, intellect and talent added to the Circumstances of My Birth (god, I am SUCH a belle!) make a heady bouquet. My life pressed on me VERY hard growing up, and instead of breaking me, it made me unbelievably strong, gave me lots of stories to tell, and made me fairly universally empathic. Those are attractive – as well as sometimes frightening – qualities. (Well, they turn ME on… : )

How have I not known this all along? Because I’m human, and weak in places, just like everybody else. Because I live in America and beauty is SO subjective. Because I’m cynical about desire and love and sex. Because I have always had a hard time believing good things about myself, or that the good things outweigh the bad*.

And why the disbelief? See: all of the above.

Perhaps most importantly, why am I thinking/talking about this now? Because someone truly fabulous called me a Hot Girl last night. I’ve been called nice things before (by some pretty damned fabulous people, too), and hopefully will be again. I’ve been courted, pursued, stalked, admired, feted, loved, lusted after, celebrated, treated with respect, the subject of songs and poems and art… and it ALWAYS surprises me. Every time. ok. almost always. Sometimes extra especially. And a lot of times, it’s been the opposite. One boy that I lusted after told me that it could never happen because he only likes “anorexic chicks”**. One boy, THE boy, my then-and-still One True Love, told me that he was only attracted to me when he was close to me (perhaps nekkid, in the dark? Punkass.) and that memory will never leave me***. And lots of boys overlook me because I’m fat, or whatever, even some that I wish were better people than that – but I do understand. You want what you want. I am just as “guilty” of this as anyone. I just don’t think you should tell someone these things AFTER you’ve … taken physical advantage of their desire and admiration.
Despite those times, those people and those comments, it has been the good things that people have said and done that have helped to build my confidence. It’s the bad things (the ones that have been said to me and the ones I see in the mirror vs. magazine covers) that make me doubt, but it’s the confidence that makes me a Hot Girl. Maybe the doubt is the only thing that curbs my arrogance and perhaps that adds to the overall effect, too…
The one thing that people say to me again and again when courting or complimenting is that it’s the way I “carry myself”. Will (Justin) Martin told me in college that he wanted to meet me because when I walked across campus, it looked as if my “feet didn’t even touch the ground”. Moo. I think it’s that I love myself, and I love life. And that shows.

What physical beauty I do have will fade – is fading. I have been feeling pretty… faded since I hit 35. I’ve had a lot of sad, funny, cynical thoughts about love and sex and romance in the past several months, and I’m sure that they will come again – with a vengeance. I had decided to give it up, just be asexual (yeah, me and Morrissey) and try hard not to care, and to learn some more about myself and the world. And all of this was affecting my attitude in a bad way. It’s just not me.
The ‘someone fabulous’ who made this nice comment last night is a bloke that I’ve long desired and admired. He is an especially beautiful person, inside and out, but someone that I would never have a chance of dating, due to life on earth being like it is… But despite life on earth being like it is (or maybe because of it) we’ve become very close friends – maybe even close enough to do away with some “despites” for a bit. Who knows? But something about the time and place, the mood and conversation when he made this comment (one of many nice things he’s said to me over the years), and I guess the particularly piquante blend of this gentleman’s OWN hotness really hit me. I thought “Wow. I’m a Hot Girl. Still. Wow.”
I honestly wish that everyone had this feeling. SO many of my friends do, and it is such a joy to celebrate it with them. I never really thought “Does K__ (or M__, or B__, or A__, etc.) doubt his or her attractiveness? Are they even really AWARE of how beautiful, sensual, delightful, amazing and attractive they are?”
I’ve always thought that it was one of my jobs in the Universe to try to let these people know. And it’s nice to realize that I believe that my opinion on this subject really matters.
So does yours, “X?”, and all of the rest of you who go out of your way to make myself and others feel good about ourselves.
Thank you, bless you.
AND ROCK YOUR OWN HOTNESS, PEEPS!
xo
-s

*THIS, however, I have been working on for a LONG time, and continue to do so, everyday. I’ve made a lot of progress…
**or MAYBE he was ticked off because I turned him down the very first time he tried to put the make on me because I was SIXTEEN and COMPLETELY clueless… sheesh.
***there’s times when I think that maybe alzheimer’s wouldn’t be SO bad…

Well, New Orleans is still standing, and so are Lisa and I*, woo-hoo!
Needless to say, we had an Official blast. Despite the seeming rush of it all, we didn’t push ourselves too hard, and yet we still managed to do everything on the agenda PLUS some…
Lisa got to my house before I’d even gotten home from work. We chilled and she kept me company while I packed and did last minute things. Stewart came and picked up Luna** and visited a while, and then Lisa and I retired for the evening.
We left five minutes BEFORE our planned departure time, picked up some bad breakfast and hit the road. We’d both brought lotsa road tunes, and we talked and sang and laughed and joked about ‘rud wuhkas*** and the miles sped by.
We got to Fat City around 7, and no one was at Jennifer’s crib, so we went to the Winn Dixie down the skreet to use the potty. (The security guard - who had an ENORMOUS thong hanging from his rearview mirror… well, it might have been a thong. It COULD have been a !@#$ parachute harness. Jeezis! - made me go back outside and put on shoes.
Can you believe it? What is the South coming to?!)
When we got back to Casa de Jennifer (and hot black guy with 3-5 kids –it’s a shotgun duplex… so, a “double barrel”, I guess. Hur!) they still weren’t there, so I leaned against the fence and munched on devil’s food cookies and waited. When the car came down the street, I saw a girl in the passenger seat and even though I’d never met Jennifer, I knew it was them, because her eyes got bright when she saw me. I stood up and followed the car as they were parking, and looked in the windows. Tedd thought I was a crack head bag lady. Go fig. But at least he was surprised. Boy was he. He seemed stunned for about an hour. But then Jennifer brought out the Turbo Dog and the gossip started flying, and the catching us started happening, and it was just like old times. Tedd took Lisa and I to “Bud’s Broiler” (the pic on the left) for some WONDERFUL greasy-@$$ flame-broiled bbq burgers and chili-cheese fries, and we went back to the house and ate on the porch. When we wound down (which took forever – Jennifer actually shoved Tedd out’ the door) we went to sleep and slept like babies.
Next a.m. I sprang up, hit the shower, Lisa was next, and we were outtie in plenty of time to meet Aunt Mary at the Café Du Monde (we sat at this very corner table) for beignets (yes Lisa, pronounced like “Vin, yay!”) and café au lait. It was sweet to sit with Aunt Mary, even though The Topic came up (see Wed. Jan 22 and Thu. May 22 rants), and there was a tiny bit of “Sam, why do you continue to be such a horrible person to your mother?” stuff, but I understand, and I can’t tell them why, because there is enough hurt already. And as I was telling the lovely and extremely smooshable X? last night, the only way that I can love my mother anymore is by accepting the Horrible Mean Lying Bitch tag and letting her keep a good grip on her denial and allowing her family to defend her and think I’m awful. C’est la vie. I think they all know this, deep down, including Josie, and I think they all love me. That just has to be enough, I guess.
We dropped Aunt Mary off at the house, agreeing on a time to meet there for dinner – I’d volunteered to bring Muffalettas and she said she’d make tea (MM! It’s a family talent! : ) and Lisa and I headed off to UNO.
The campus was nice – I’d never seen it. I sat at a picnic table under a pine tree and drew and watched the beautiful, sundry young people go by while Lisa did her thing. By the time she was done, it was lunch time, we were very hungry, and so we headed back to downtown. By this time, Lisa was driving like a local (WOW!) and we found the restaurant – Mother’s, it’s my all-time favorite – we had a debris poboy (debris is the bits of the roast that fall off while it’s cooking), a half-and-half (mixed fried oyster and shrimp, oh my god…) a big bowl of jambalaya, and a big bowl of gumbo. It cost a fortune, but it was well worth it, and despite thinking that we’d have leftovers – we did NOT! : ) OOOO-WEE!
After Mother’s we went on down to the Quarter to shop. Our first stop was at O’Flaherty’s for a ½ pint and then we walked in circles for a moment so I could “get my bearings”****. We hit Royale and some of my faves there – Three Dog Bakery, for Lu-treats, and The Mystic Curio, which is where I bought the pentacle I wear every day, and some antiquey spots. Then we hit a side street for Esoterica and some cute girlie-boing-boing shops (one where I saw a shirt that said “W.W.J.J.D.? – What Would Joan Jett Do?” EE!). Then we stopped and bought muffs for dinner (“Save a Dago, Eat a Muff!”) and headed over to the French Market
for some SERIOUS souvenir shopping…
After that, we headed back into the quarter, where I bought myself a beee-yootiful antique cotton Hawaiian shirt, and found a pretty boy a pretty piece of jewelry. By the time we were broke, it was just about time to get over to Aunt Mary and Uncle Eddie’s for dinner.
Lisa got there with no trouble at all, and Mary and Eddie were leaning on the fence, chatting with a neighbor and waiting for us. It was so good to see their faces, to feel HOME. We ate and talked and had some DURN good iced tea, and after dinner, Aunt Mary pulled out some family photos. It was so sweet, I honestly hated to leave, but it was getting late, and we had one more date.
With the very best kinds of hugs and kisses still lingering on my skin, we drove back to Jennifer’s place (once more, may I commend Lisa’s amazing driving and navigational skills!) and upon arrival we were treated to a very festive sight.
Miss Jennifer, who is truly super-model stunning (as well as a !@#$ BRILLIANT lawyer) was out on her porch painting her door in a see-through coverall with some VERY fancy red lace Victoria’s Secret style lingerie on. I am sure that the neighbors were pleased. Let me add here that this lady welcomed us (complete STRANGErs) into her home, served us Turbo Dog, and generally just made us feel like family. Before the visit was over, I felt like I’d adopted another sister – especially when she said “Tedd, if I find Sam a job, can I keep her?” (And also, let me add, “YAY, TEDD!!! You get all that girl AND the !@#$ leather mini pirate costume, etc. WOO!!!”)
Before long, Albatross (xoxoxoxox!) and Tedd showed up, and we all primped and headed out to the Quarter. Before we’d even gotten very far into our Evil Frozen Drinks, Styb’s (aka Albatross) wonderful Lady Donna and Tedd’s WAY-smokin’ co-worker Spencer had arrived, and the Bourbon Street Crawl (Lite) got under way. The boys and girls all had a beer or two, Lisa and I were drinking 190 Antifreeze – served to us by one of the most charming, handsome, almost shy, sweet gentlemen I have ever had the good fortune to make a fool of myself in front of, John Paul. (HI, JOHN PAUL! If you go to Bourbon St., stop in at the Mango Mango and say Hi to John Paul for me. Tell him I said he has beautiful eyes. : ) I bought a good cigar, we caught some beads, I met a VERY cheesy, cute vampire dude, and we strolled and laughed and made dumb injokes and told dirt on each other until I felt like I was home again.
When the drink – not to mention the age and responsibility factor – kicked in, we all (except for Spencer, moo!) went to the Café Du Monde for more old-school talk, discussion of European Union Law (I’m telling y’all, this Jennifer is one unbelievably awesome lady) and last goodbyes.
Then Tedd took us home, and before long (but after the Pirate Costume modeling and Live Nude Girls show) we were buzzing about the day like slumber party teens and fighting sleep.
We lost, but we slept well, and were ready for the trip back home after a really nice breakfast gleaned from La Boulangerie and the nice little coffee shop next door. There was more girl talk – we’d convinced Jennifer to come with – and much reluctance to leave. Moo.
The trip home was nice, tired and sleepy. Road Warrior extraordinaire Lisa put in her tunes and let me read and nap. Towards evening, we worked on faire stuff, and we were home by 10:30. Lisa drove on, Stewart brought Lu-girl home, and I was very happy to see my dof and my bed – despite the fact that I really hadn’t wanted to leave.
Thank you, Lisa. Thank you Stewart. Thank you Jennifer, Teddy, Albatross, Donna, Spencer. Thank you, Aunt Mary, Uncle Eddie, John Paul, Lisa’s cute doctor, those two precious guys at the Second Skin, that sweet boy who sold me my lovely necklace…
Thank you to the guy in O’Flaherty’s and to all the people who helped make this one special day.
I needed it.
MUCH love,
-Miss Sambolina Magda-Pie


*Well, actually right now, I’m obviously sitting, but you get my point. Sheesh.
**Not to embarrass him, but he is SUCH a good “uncle” to her. It is SO hard to leave that girl when I go away, and yet, I never worry, and she is always happy and excited to go with him. AND she always returns with extra rawhide treats. ‘Spoilin’ my dog… yay! Thanksx573,000,000, ‘rats.
***write me at amusesam@yahoo.com if you don’t know what I am saying here, and I will explain.
****scope a hot dude.

i'm sorry i've been so slack, lately y'all. i promise it isn't intentional. not only have i been psycho-busy (sallie's wedding, getting geared up to host state library workshop, getting ready for little trip, working extra, worrying about health and trying to squeeze in some semblance of a social-life*) but i've been pre-occupied with thinking really hard about life.
don't worry, i won't subject you to all of those observations right now... but i will warn you that i am taking notes.

sallie's wedding was SO wonderful. it was a golden day, and sallie and bryon made so many people happy by throwing this great bash and allowing us to help celebrate such a happy event.
i got invited to the rehearsal dinner on friday night, mm, bigfatnice steak dinner (at a restaurant where i used to work, nonetheless) and we all had a ball. THANK YOU FOR THE DINNER, PHILLIPS' AND FAMILIES OF!
then on sat. a.m. i got up and got my act together, went and collected TONS of wildflowers and flowers from helen's garden and greens. i got to the camp (camp pinnacle, near carl sandberg's home) where the wedding and reception were to be held at about 1:00. there were already people there setting up, and lots of people brought lots of flowers, so we had plenty of beautiful stuff to work with.
sallie's crew was SO tight, we got the old gym decorated to the hilt with wildflowers, tulle, xmas lights, and LOTS of love, and we had fun doing it. we finished just in time for me to get dressed and get ready to help the ladies get dressed. i got to powder sallie and all the maids with shimmer dust and then do sallie's make-up and put the flowers in her hair. we were done precisely on time, and i got my seat - between the handsome and gentlemanly X? and my own gorgeous girl, ms. luna.**
the wedding was unbelievably simple, sweet and lovely. my favorite thing was all the dogs running around sallie and bryon while the sun glinted off of the lake and made all of our eyes water... yeah, right. UBER-moo!
the reception was wonderful, too. good food, and again, the dog pack circling the tables and making the most of their good time. lester, the photographer's plot-hound, howled when the dj played bluegrass, people danced and conga'd and felt very very happy and alive. i know, i was there.
after the reception, the bonfire, and the SERIOUS partay began. we all crossed the rope-bridge over the cold lake in the middle of the night, drank much red-wine and then wound our way to cold cabins and warm arms.
it was so wonderful, thank you again, phillips'. you are a blessing, and you are blessed.

now, i am off to join lisa and pack for OUR TRIP TO NEW ORLEANS TOMORROW!!!
!@#$-A!!! oh god, i really hope teddy doesn't read this and spoil the surprise...
:) oh well, if he does, then he'll be ready and waiting - TAKE YOUR HAIR DOWN, TEDDY!
I'M BRINGIN' MY THONG!!!***
and if i DID spoil the surprise, DON'T TELL JENNIFER!
wish us luck. hell, wish NEW ORLEANS luck! ah, there's only so much damage we can do in one day.
back on wednesday, with stories to tell (and back to the !@#$ doctor on thursday).
much love,
sambolina, queena the geeks


*ie: trying to get buffy to feed me and chasing/running from boys.
**YES, NOT ONLY WAS I WELCOME AT THIS WEDDING (AND rehearsal dinner) BUT SO WAS MY DOG. hmph.
***don't ask. it's a long-running joke... at least, i THINK it's a joke... hm...

"When we hold each other, in the darkness, it doesn't make the darkness go away. The bad things are still out there. The nightmares are still walking.
When we hold each other, we feel -- not safe, but better. "It's all right," we whisper. "I'm here. I love you." And we lie, "I'll never leave you."
For just a moment or two the darkness doesn't seem so bad. When we hold each other."

from "Hold Me", a short story by Neil Gaiman.

this quote swam up from the text of a comic collection (Midnight Days) last night and shook me hard. One of my library kids - and friend 12-year-old Abe Thomas also sent me a poem - the day that i was to get the results of my MRI - last week, and i thought that the echo was more than a coincidence. abe said i could share his poem here.
he wrote:

"this is a short one that i thought up in like 4 seconds but any way it's not about any one just for fun:
'i need some one to hold someone who wants to be held to somebody like you as long as this is true i will always thy who wants to be held too'
it's okay i think it's not one of my best but who care's don't worry be happy
FROM. HONEST ABE"

we all want to be held when it's dark and things are scary, whether we can admit it or not. we all want someone to hold. puppies, babies, old folks, and even us big tough orc kings and queens. i've saved all my concerned and loving phone messages and e-mails. it's definitely the next-best thing.
i love you all. i wish i had a thousand sam-sweatshirts so i could cut off the sleeves and mail them to you in a package with instructions on how to put the sleeves on your arms and then wrap them around yourself and squeeze, so you could have a hug from me, like someone most dear did for me many many moons ago when i really needed to be held...
as my heatherita says:
"Muchas Skwooches"!
ooxooxooxooxooxoox (extra hugs)
-sambolina-wise

p.s. expect Tales from Sallie and Bryon's Wedding soon!

hello, lovely peeps!
our library is trying to build a new main branch, and they are fundraising like crazy. in order to help out, i did a painting and donated it for a raffle. i am selling tickets and i have made a vow to sell at LEAST 100.
to see this lurvely (I think) piece, go to my amusesam yahoo group http://groups.yahoo.com/ (if you haven't joined yet, enter "amusesam" - without quotes - in the "JOIN" box, and then do whatever it says - an no one gets hurt... :) look at the photo called "Storytime" - click on "full size" to see the details (there are 9 hidden creatures! see if you can spot them all!)
the tickets are 1$ each, or 6 for 5$, and i would LOVE it if one of my friends won this...
i will bring tickets to the next geek out, and leave some with buffy, or call, write, and i will make sure you get tickets!
xoxoxoxo
-sam

i will spare y'all the horror of the ultrasound experience. i will also give y'all a moosh-break. but i feel compelled to give y'all something worth a damned...
so here are some things that means a lot to me:

God's Grandeur

The world is charged with the grandeur of God.
It will flame out, like shining from shook foil;
It gathers to a greatness, like the ooze of oil
Crushed. Why do men then now not reck his rod?
Generations have trod, have trod, have trod;
And all is seared with trade; bleared, smeared with toil;
And wears man's smudge and shares man's smell: the soil
Is bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod.

And for all this, nature is never spent;
There lives the dearest freshness deep down things;
And though the last lights off the black West went
Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastward, springs—
Because the Holy Ghost over the bent
World broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings.

-Gerard Manley Hopkins


-and, for balance:

the lesson of the moth

i was talking to a moth
the other evening
he was trying to break into
an electric light bulb
and fry himself on the wires

why do you fellows
pull this stunt i asked him
because it is the conventional
thing for moths or why
if that had been an uncovered
candle instead of an electric
light bulb you would
now be a small unsightly cinder
have you no sense

plenty of it he answered
but at times we get tired
of using it
we get bored with the routine
and crave beauty
and excitement
fire is beautiful
and we know that if we get
too close it will kill us
but what does that matter
it is better to be happy
for a moment
and be burned up with beauty
than to live a long time
and be bored all the while
so we wad all our life up
into one little roll
and then we shoot the roll
that is what life is for
it is better to be a part of beauty
for one instant and then cease to
exist than to exist forever
and never be a part of beauty
our attitude toward life
is come easy go easy
we are like human beings
used to be before they became
too civilized to enjoy themselves

and before i could argue him
out of his philosophy
he went and immolated himself
on a patent cigar lighter
i do not agree with him
myself i would rather have
half the happiness and twice
the longevity

but at the same time i wish
there was something i wanted
as badly as he wanted to fry himself

-Don Marquis

much love,
-sam

Well, despite all behavioral evidence to the contrary, my MRI came back perfectly normal. Actually, it showed that I have sinusitis. Someone told me that this is like, a 2,000$ test. I have no idea how much of it my insurance will pay. To tell me that I have sinusitis.
At least it’s not a brain tumor.*
My blood tests also came back normal – with the exception of an elevated white blood cell count, which could be easily related to the sinusitis.
Meanwhile, I am getting weaker every day. Mornings are ok. But by afternoon, I’m shot. And it always seems to get worse after I eat.
So, Dr. Jeff took more blood this morning, testing for some sort of adrenal issues. Blahblahblah. Someone very “kindly” pointed out this morning “he probably just needs a new boat.” Thanks people. This is helping.
NOT.
Everyone else IS helping though. The calls, the e’s… (Dean, man, you are too precious. Mike. Moo.)** the Buffy-Breakfast-Love. You all know that it’s hard for me to be ‘baby’. I’m not good at it, and the connotations are too much for my delicate (but apparently very normal. Ha!) brain to handle. You have all managed to be sweet and thoughtful and sentimental and kind and concerned and just make me feel loved and appreciated and worried about. This means the world to me. I hope y’all all won’t too disappointed & feel like y’all have wasted all this concern and kindness if I turn out to be ok.***
So tomorrow a.m. I have an ultrasound. I am supposed to drink SIXTY-FOUR OUNCES (isn’t that a !@#$ gallon?!) of water at 7 am and hold it until after this is done. (it allegedly BEGINS @ 8:30) HAHAHAHAHA! These people are INSANE! I am going to try, nonetheless, but I tell you, it sounds like an accident waiting to happen…Hurhurhur.
Sorry.
So that’s where I am on that particular map.
On the map of my head – well, the Orc Queen issues are eating me up… but I am not turning my back on them. I am pondering and puzzling it through, like a good little OCD patient. : )
And as for the map of my heart, I am torn between a kind of loneliness and fear that I didn’t even imagine was possible for me, and between amazement at the love and gentle concern my friends are so effusively heaping onto me. It seems impossible that both conditions could exist together, but c’est moi – or perhaps, c’est la vie.
And speaking of friends and effusive love… Today, October 1st, is my favorite day of the year. I usually take the day off from work and do something amazing for myself (I’ve gone on trips to flea-markets, rented rooms for the pool and luxury of it, gone to foreign places – like South Carolina – with Lu, taken long hikes inna woods, I saw my first live Opera by chance on one of my 10/01 adventures once, Madame Butterfly, too…) This year, in all the hubbub, it slipped my mind to take the day off. So I sat at work. I did have a nice lunch cup of coffee (appetite has gone out the window, but I’m still gaining weight. !@#$ lovely…) with a beautiful sweet boy and his even more beautiful sweet dog. I made him laugh. That was nice. And the day’s still not over… Maybe I will go home and take Luna out somewhere nice. : ) But no matter what I do today, I realize that Goddess has given me a permanent October 1st prezzie. Today is the birthday of one of the most beautiful, wonderful people I have ever had the good fortune to con into liking me. I’ve mentioned her and her many good deeds here time and again, but my words and even this photo of her on a Harley (there’s a Harley?) just can’t do justice to this amazing lady.
Buffy, happy birthday! I am so proud to be your friend and a member of your family. Thank you for all that you do, and for just being you. Much love, respect, and admiration. I hope we have years of back-door giggles ahead of us. I’ve been celebrating your birthday all of my life – I just didn’t know why until I met you! :D
And to all of my friends, even the ones I haven’t met yet, I wish you good things on this day. Fall is here, winter is coming, Carpe Diem!

Oh, and before I forget – happy birthday to Selma, too! Hers is today, and her sister Ayla’s is on my second favorite day of the year – May 1st!

Much love – and lots of cups of tea,
-Samwise


*or an HOMUNCULUS!!!!
**My MOTHER even wrote. And her note didn’t send me into terrified hyperventilation or make me want to put my fist through the wall – or even delete it from the page.
hm. i wonder if i should tell the doc about that, too?
***this is at least partially a joke.

well, howdy.
*sigh*
:)
life is actually pretty ok today. stewart just reminded me that i have one more day before i have to go to the doctor, and i am going to spend that day enjoying a day with buffy and returning a few of her own million kindnesses by helping her clean the house she just moved out of THAT IS FOR RENT. CHEAP! nice place too. e me if you're interested. :)
i also went to a lovely briday shower for Principessa Sallie. all her royal court and fam were in attendance. the food was good, the company pleasant, and the scenery insurpassable ladies, thank you.
tonight i am going to see 'once upon a time in mexico with stewart, so today will have been a day totally devoted to the appreciation of beauty.
to continue in this vein, i also offer you a newly updated day off for your viewing and philosophizing pleasure.
:)
man, i am such a cheeseball.

do enjoy the updates. there's a new cartoon (#30! whoa.), an updated hottie of the fortnight (ow!), and something for you fellows to smile about, too. the new photo gallery is from the album cover and promo shoot that i did for The Whiskey Sisters (www.whiskeysisters.com), and they are simply stunning. the pictures are nice, too.
i suppose if you're reading this, then you don't need the URL. i will however, mail the URL to those slackasses of you who don't read my webpage.
and let me know what you think. sign my guestbook, or write me @ amusesam@yahoo.com.
xo
-s



*yes, one of the whiskey sisters - see the new photo gallery - hubba hubba! @ http://www.samsdayoff.com/gallery1.html)

Well, just when you think things can’t get any worse…
This morning before work (after my 2nd cup of coffee, when I became awake enough to see and feel) I noticed that the area around the aforementioned little red dot and bruise on my forearm (and yes, this is my RIGHT arm) has turned an angry red. There is a comet shaped swath of red swelling running up my arm from the place where they injected that dye. The tail of the comet currently ends about three inches above my elbow.
Not good, I think. I have called the doctor, am waiting for a call back. If he tells me this is nothing to worry about, I am going to march down to !@#$ St. !@#$ Luke’s and give him such a horrible wedgie, this mf is gonna WISH he was Tobie …

Wedgie time.
He did call. He said put a heating pad on it.
!@#$ % ^&%$#!! !@$!!!
Y’know guys, I’m really kind of losing heart here. I know that this is a horrible thing to say, considering how hard my friends – Red, Mike, RobB., Buff, Brett, Stewart, Sallie, Joe, El, Ken, etc., are working to keep me up, but that should give you some idea of how scary and worrisome this all is. I can say this – if it weren’t for y’all, I’d be up the proverbial scatological creek without a paddle, or even a frikkin’ BOAT for that matter.
Needless to say, I am in a place where laying up and taking care of my arm is not feasible, but one of my “customers” is bringing me a heating pad (moo.) and I will have some potential shift-relief this afternoon, so if it doesn’t start looking better (or hurting less) I can take off and go back to the !@#$ emergency room (maybe I can get ANOTHER !@#$ staph infection or what-the-hell-ever to put a heating pad on while I’m there…) this afternoon…
RAAR!
MOO!
I just want to lay on my couch, or on a blanket in my yard and cry, for about two weeks.
I want my dad to come and rub my back and tell me b.s. stories.
I want to be back on the top of the Ferris wheel with my brothers.
I want to be holding hands with Jeff in the Lord of the Rings.
I want to be back at GS camp with my sister.
I want Charlyn in the bed next to me, telling her old fever dreams*.
I want Bo to come and sit and gift me with his soothing presence.
I want my mom’s ham grits and aunt Sue’s singing in the kitchen and gramma Winnie’s lemon pie and gramma Bertie’s hair-brushing and papaw Joe’s smile.
I want someone to stand up for me with these stupid doctors and hold my hand through the needles part.
I want to be well and ok again so that I can bear my normal amount of hurt.
This is too much.
Too much.

I’m sorry y’all. This is definitely the real-life diary of a real-life girl. I promise you that no one is more sorry than I am that the rants are not less pitiful and more fun these days. Please bear with me. Y’all are my world, my hope, my loves, my family, my all. I know that I am spread too thin, always, even at the best of times. I need to call Charlyn, I need to see Sue and Winnie, I need to write Mandy, I need to make contact with the Austin folks, I need to write Rory, I need to e Shawn… and there are obligations and promises and work and desires here, too… I will never, even if I live another 40 years, manage it all. I’d like to try, though, and I thank you all from the bottom of my heart for not giving up on me despite how preoccupied and stretched out I always am. Alway Sam
Maybe a tour of the US is what I really need. Tennessee(Thornhills), Kentucky(Pablo), Georgia(Gaijin), Florida(Queen Bees), Mississippi(Kings and ‘Burgers and ‘CoastalFolk), Louisiana(Tedd), Texas(AustinPeopos), Arizona/NewMex(desert), Cali(J&E, Supaks, Unk) – and all the hot-spots and weird-ass tourist traps in between and above.
Well, at least as long as I can dream, I know I’m still in the game.

And I'll apologize now for all the apologies and the pleas for tolerance and understanding. It will probably get worse before it gets better.
All my love and gratitude for all of y'alls' concern, calls, letters (Mike, Rob.B. - y'all are die-hard, old-school, true homies. I love you dearly.). These are truly the things that are keeping me going right now.
-sam

*one time, the last time i had pneumonia, she lay in bed with me while my fever raged - 107 before they finally took me to the hospital - and she told me that once, when she had a bad fever, the ceiling tiles seemed to be shifting and sliding around and that it gave her a feeling "like biting into a marshmallow and hitting a brick". I felt that in my teeth then, even in the middle of a 107 temp. and i have NEVER been able to forget that. now neither will you.
heh heh heh...

It was something about seeing that white cotton ball taped to my right forearm, the same arm with the bar-coded plastic white name bracelet. No rings on my fingers, no bracelet, all my armor gone, suddenly I just felt mortal. Terribly big, soft, vulnerable, easily breached (those needles slide into your skin like water), and ultimately ending. The whole MRI experience does that. The tube is so small, and the experience so surreal. I was afraid, but also dazed. I was un-drugged – I’d even foregone caffeine and sugar for the day so that my brain might look as nice as possible for it’s photo. That hospital smell does something to you. And I spent a lot of time there as a kid, so all of that came back to me, too. Ken was there, and our lightest possible conversation (which, with Ken, is never too light – except for all of the soap-opera jokes) kept me from winding up too much. There was an elderly lady there, and her fear was heavy. We’d both been waiting long past our appointed time. The machine (which was in the trailer of an 18-wheeler in the hospital parking lot) had “broken” and we were delayed. Before I left with the nurse, she asked me to please hurry. I promised her and myself that I would do my best.
I suppose the extreme surreality began when we left the hospital and walked outside. I’d expected room, concrete walls, machines. When we turned the corner and I saw the trailer, tommy-lift down, music coming out, glimpse of strangely wallpapered (a giant beach scene with sailboats covered the entire inside, wherever there were no machine parts and cabinets) inside, and these attendants. I wasn’t sure how I was to get in there, and then I realized I was to step onto the lift. The man who operated it treated me as if I were elderly, infirm, lightly putting his hand underneath my forearm. They, this man and the very bovine (not so much in her size or shape, but the quality of her expression) lady who were the nurses, commented on my little friend, my Scrump doll I’d brought for physical comfort, something tiny and good to hold and squeeze. I tried to make it easy for them, and I think they were grateful. Papers were signed, some minimal description of the process, double-checking for metal items (they had to tape down the zipper on my sweater and take my safety pins out), and then they asked me about music. I chose classical, because they couldn’t pick up 88.3, and before they put me in I made them change the music because the first song was a classical rendition of that ‘Titanic’ song.
Yeah, right.
Better music chosen, big headphones on my head and then a big plastic cage, like a medieval helmet, maybe. Then the touchie boy nurse put pads around my head, and slid me into the tube. I opened my eyes long enough to know where I was and then I kept them closed except during the worst of the noise, in the depths of the surrealism, when my curiosity wouldn’t hold. I thought about beaches and skies, I thought about what the pretty Asian nurse had said as she walked me to the truck*, I tried to make exciting patterns for the MRI by thinking about certain things when I thought that it was scanning, and just squeezed Scrump and tried to be really still. After a while, they slid me out and without undoing my head proceeded to inject me with dye (which I had not expected and was not happy about). As soon as my head was out of the larger tube I asked the girl-nurse “What do you do about really fat people?” she answered, but I couldn’t read her lips through the bars and Dvorjak was drowning out her words. I said “I can’t hear.” And when the music was turned down I heard her saying that “Really fat people can’t have them. Sometimes they can do an mmmrmrmrm…” I gathered there’s some kind of ‘just-head’ open device thing. I thought – and told her – about dad.
The dye immediately made me feel swimmy, but no worse, and so I didn’t say anything. I knew that little old lady was waiting. I was desperate to be out.
Only minutes this time, and I tried to sit up and and felt woozy. I also felt that I’d been changed somehow. I felt smaller and softer and just different. I know now that it was the cottonball, from the place where she’d injected that dye. And the symbol of it, the symbol of having to have my brain measured and checked, the symbol of needing this nurses’ hand on my forearm, of having had blood drawn and tested, having been injected with foreign substance with a radioactive suffix.

I know it’s hard to see, but I AM an orc-girl. I am a giant, part-troll, made of rock and wood, just enough blood and bone to keep me pretty. Ogre-Queen, with my earrings and bracelets and rings, copper, metal, silver armor. Tusks, under bite, topknot, and throne. This is how I see and feel myself; it’s how I have to, to make it through each day. My forearms look normal, are scarred and pale underneath, but they feel like warm, bark-stripped branches. But this morning, seeing this tiny bruise above that blue-green vein, the red dot where the needle slid right in, with no resistance, remembering the nurse apologizing for having to search for a place big enough in my small veins (they had to use baby needles to draw the 8 tubes of blood) and seeing my naked wrists, fingers, ears; staggering a little as I walked alone – well, with Scrump – back into the hospital on a fine, strange fall day, I realized that I am very human, and can be very easily broken and destroyed. I realized that I am on my own, and as vulnerable as anybody and I am very very scared.
When I was little, I learned quickly that to be anything less than SuperWoman was foolish, and dangerous. You could not slip, mentally or physically, or you would be taken down in the worst ways. Locked up, held down, cornered and brutally manipulated, and then abandoned. Thus a spiky Ogre Queen grown inside a cute, bouncy, rosy girl with eyes that probably should have been water and sky, not smoke and steel. I can’t express how painful it is to me to see that there are some things that even I can’t fight. Men with fists and sticks and intentions are nothing to me, but my own humanity and mortality – a cottonball taped to my arm – is enough to bring me to my knees.

I will still fight. I don’t know how to do anything else, but no matter what turns out to be wrong with me – and I know they may even say ‘nothing’ – I am changed. I know something now that I can’t un-know.
I know this, too. I have not seen enough of the world, of even my own country. I have not seen enough of the people I love and the people I don’t know. I haven’t seen a desert. I haven’t been in a boat on a river in far too long. I haven’t eaten in enough truck stops, walked enough roads with my dog, or seen The House on the Rocks, or the biggest ball of twine in Minnesota, or New York. I do not want to die – next year, or in 40 years – with this kind of regret. With this kind of shameless waste and fear. I am so scared. Scared of what might happen, but far more scared of what might not.

I’m sorry y’all. Bear with me. And forgive me if I make seemingly foolish decisions based on fear. I know that no one can or will take care of me, and I hope y’all know that I will never do anything to purposely scare or hurt my friends. I’m not trying to scare y’all, either, but maybe I’m saying “don’t be surprised or disappointed with me if I finally get the nerve to get rid of all my shit and hit the road with luna and my camera and 200$.”

All my love – and bravery and trust (it was hard to write this)
-sam


*she said “Just pretend you’re on the beach, with a guy, like, mayyyyybe, that guy you’re with…” aaah! Ken’s a pimp!

Ok, peeps. Here’s the dealie-o! if you would like to see pics of BRIAN AND ANDI’S BRAND SHINY NEW BABY GIRL (!!!) – Miss Aeryn McKinney Allen (!!!) – here’s what you can do:
Go to yahoo groups (http://groups.yahoo.com/), go to the spot where it says “join a group” and enter “amusesam” (no quotations) and then, sign in please, and join me.
when you get in, go to photos and look for "aeryn pics". please feel free to browse the other albums, too.
-I must ask a favor, though – NO FAIRE BUSINESS (or other business at all) POSTED HERE. This is my personal page, for my dayoff stuff, and I’d like to keep it like that. This is my private little whee, fun geek spot, and I want it to remain unsullied and protected for lovely things like art goofiness and BABY PICTURES!

Much love,
Beaming Ridiculously Proud Aunt Sambro

i could talk about some yukky stuff, and catch y'all up on what's going on with me, but i'd rather not. today i have GOOD NEWS!!!
yesterday was the equinox, as i'm sure most of y'all know. i spent a good deal of time outside last night, lighting my candles, sending up my prayers, looking at the sky. i thought about a lot of stuff, mostly good, some skewwy, but it all ended with "no matter what happens to me, there's now a new person in the world, who, in my opinion, has what it takes to pick up my slack!"
Aeryn McKinney Allen was born yesterday a little after 3:30. Buffy called me to give me the news as I was standing at my altar in the kitchen lighting the candles for outside!) She is 5 pounds, 4 ounces, 18 and a little inches long, and sweet as pie. Andi told Buffy that she looked like she was gonna have her mama's beautiful, beautiful brown eyes! (YAY!)
Andi had called yesterday a.m. before I went into work, to let me know that she was going in to the doctor, that this baby might be ready to come (they'd said they might induce on thurs.) and i said "Well, it IS the equinox!" she said "Is it?"
yup! She went in for her appointment, and while she was filling out her paperstuff, her water broke! Aeryn said "MAMA, IT'S TIME!"
I will go see them tonight, as soon as i get offa work, and Brian said there's already pics to share!
Happy equinox, all! Happy birthday, Baby! Congratulations, BrAndi! YAY, US!
xoxoxo
-sambolina

ok, folks. today is National Talk Like a Pirate Day! ARRRRR! There is an Official Website, what will teach you how to do the lingo properly.
stewart passed this on to us, THANKS, STEWART!
AVAST, ME HEARTIES! (i am remembering that scene in Pirates of the Caribbean when Orlando *sigh* Bloom realizes he's become a pirate and he and Johnny "Madjack" Depp
*purrrrrr* are confronting the badguys, and Orlando tries to talk like a pirate for the first time. hee.)
more news later - i need a coke. they took eight !@#$ tubes of blood from me this a.m.
yukk.
much love,
-s

well, i did it.
bloodwork begins in the morning, i have an mri a week from today.
and so it begins.

i'm skert, y'all.

ok. i made the appointment. i go to the doctor on thursday.
*sigh*
more real stuff later.
xo
-s

...we temporarily interrupt the "tales of con" to announce that the writer - who is, as we all know, a bit temporally challenged - needs to check her timeline against other geeks before she proceeds with this post! :)
fear not, i will finish what i started! ;)

in other news, our ken is nearly as excited about The Package to Mr. D. as i am. He called yesterday wanting reference direction and anecdotes, and we're planning to meet next week to discuss the piece he's doing for The Package. this is SO exciting!
ken has always felt like kin (hur!), but the similarities in our bizarre geek makeup is really showing in this project. i feel pretty sure that everyone else just thinks i'm completely demented, but ken is IN! i have commissioned a specific drawing from him and i am delighted that he is approaching this with such fantastic zeal. yay, you!
xoxoxo
more later,
much love,
-sambolina honey pie

Saturday “morning” (harharhar!) we all rolled out a bit late, oh, more like, after lunch. The boys all had some evil plan, panels to see, people to do, but I’d decided that Saturday was gonna be my “Pro” day. The geeks all dressed in garb – I listened to Jen dish dirt about some folks while I watched her brush and braid her platinum wig. I was reminded of how much I love her and why I took the chance on letting her move in for a while. Being in the room together and being girls at con was like the best of those times.
I dressed in my current favorite outfit, my semi-slinky black&tan linen-weave 80’s shirt, my “rick” jeans (tight, button-fly 501’s with deep cuffs that have a turtle pin stuck in and pretty colors of oil paint at the bottom of the cuff…) and my pink-flower flip-flops. I went down to artists’ alley and made the rounds. Got some signatures and some BEAUTIFUL Andy Lee original art, talked to the gaijin guys a bit – finally saw Adam…
*sigh* He gave me his latest issue of “Are They Big Enough For Ya’ Fanboy?” and said kind words. I mooched around as long as I could stand to, and then I went out into the hall and set up shop.
Jen had given me a nice big grey box with a black top and a handle. I – of course decorated it with various SDO ads and filled it with all my big stuff. She’d also given me this cool desky-art-supply-thingy, so I set my box up with a sign on top that said “Will Art for Food!”, laid my pens out, put out my ‘Harry Potter” tip-jar and started drawing.
Needless to say, sitting against the wall and hunching over drawing was murder on my back, but nothing could sway me (so to speak. hur.). Dearest Tobie came and checked on me about once an hour, bless his little pointy head. He brought me water and soda to take my Vitamin I, he brought me lunch, and he even procured my first paying customers (Thank you, Tobie, I love you. 27Billion Geek Con Points to you. You won, you passed, you're a pro and a Vet'ran!). They were two sweet little ladies (15?) who were wearing some fancy clothes - a fairy princess in lace and velvet, and a red-haired freckle-faced brownie lass in a patchwork skirt made by her best friend. I did a full-figure sketch of the pair for the sum of their available change – 4.25$ and made their day. Their older sibs were coming later with more $$$, so I didn’t feel bad taking their scratch and they said “HA! And THEY said we couldn’t get anything good at con for just a little money!” : )
So, I sat and drew, and enjoyed the feeling of being an artist at con again, albeit a hall-squatting con-rat. Oh, how the fighty are maulen*. A few people sat to watch me draw, I met a lady who knows some of my library patrons, I ran into my dear old friend from the ‘Burg/Coastal days, Clifford and his LOVELY lass. They commissioned a sketch and so I did a “D&D” for her (she raved about my Delirium that my dear old chum and all-time favorite gm Derek has framed on his wall), with a cute me-Delirium and her as Death. They paid me a VERY sweet commission. (Thank you both, you made me feel like a pro again. : ) The bouncy binkies** came and bought my little asian school-girl sketch (it was sweeeeeet) and I did a cho-like Bettie kinda’ gal. Part of me was reeling from the feeling of being out in the hall again, sketchbook in hand, but that was then and this was now, and my overall feeling was “This is ME doing it now, I’m not here because I came with some Bigtime Artists. People are stopping just for MY art.” And that felt good.
At one point, Cully (Hamner, Gaijin Artiste Extraordinare – and SERIOUS sweetie/cutie-pie) and Karl (Storey, Gaijin Artiste as well) came out to go to lunch, or to powder their noses or somethin’, and when Cully saw me sitting there he said “You’re just a JUNKIE, aren’t you?” I just grinned and kept on inkin’…

Later Adam came out in the hall with his lady friend, and they were discussing something very serious in whispers. They went back inside for a minute and when they came back out, Adam stopped to tell me that he had to leave, his mother had a stroke, and he had to catch an emergency flight to Jersey. Pobresito. Those of you who know me well know how dear Adam is to me, his art, yes, but him too, him especially. There is and always will be a very tender spot in my heart for him. I felt so sad for him – he’s a very gentle soul, and so honored that he stopped to tell me what was up. He asked me to let folks know what had happened, and then he headed off to be with his mama.
Adam – if you ever read this, I have a million hugs with your name on them.

The con flowed on around us all, but something in me had changed at that point, it all seemed deeper, more like I was a part of the machine than just a passenger, more real, more like it used to be…

-to be continued…


*this is one of my favorite puns and quotes in the world, to date. Michel Faber, “The Crimson Petal and the White”. READ IT.
**this very cute little multiculti group of succulent wildwomen who were well-costumed and made tobie’s !@#$ CENTURY, and also became my new biggest fans. : )

well, in latest news, i am still having some cootie fall-out. i have this deadly cough that will not die, and is causing me worse problems than being loud in the libob. however, i will survive. i have to, because a faithful expatriate member of the geek patrol has procured VIN DIESEL'S home address for me...
don't worry. stalking's not my style. 'sides, i'd want him stalking me. i just want to send him a thank-you-note for representin' so boldly and beautifully for all the gamers of the world, and of course, i'd like him to see all the festive representations of himself in 'sam's day off'. :) he's the REAL king hottie, and we all know it.

what else to tell? well, luna has been staying on her lead while i'm at work. i found a magic combination of harness and collar lead that still allows her access to the whole 50 feet of the run. so, she's on double lock-down, but it makes me feel safer and keeps our new neighbor from yelling and cussing at us. :(
also, my truck and license are all completely renewed and happiy legal. i am SO bad about all that stuff. i let my license lapse for a WHOLE WEEK! and when i went to get my inspection sticker renewed they said "oh, your tag's been expired since JANUARY." !!! !@#$! :O
well, all taken care of now, i can drive in landrum again.
did go to brett and buffy's on sunday - had to cancel day with andi cause'a cooties. no cooties for baby and mama.
buff and girls picked me up on sunday after lunch and brought me to casa de inky. we stopped by the house on the way - it will be done in less than three weeks! we girled around 'til the boys came over, then we geeked the rest of the afternoon away. ken and jason came, wendi showed up, and brett came grumpin' in after his team got creamed. he was NOT in a pretty mood, but it's ok, we love him anyway. buffy made chili (mm!) and we inhaled it, there was cake and pie, too. mm, pie. it was a nice day. good to see wendi, made ken go all mooshy when i gave him his prezzie (he got a crow pin, signed by james o'barr. i love that ken is such an E-normous cheeseball. he has promised to help me get a good package together for vin. i want him to do a pic of vin as a big orc-boy - chuh! - with my magda in tow. :D yay!)

and speaking of geek things, i shall continue the tales of con... now where did i leave off? oh yes, with me stripping...

i went back to the room with mike - who BAILED at that point, and changed into something (MUCH) more comfortable. i ditched the hat and wig, the hot shirt and bodice and opted for a favorite slinky-tight jammie shirt that i left bottoned low and tied at the waist. it was a fetching ensemble. literally. i thought this one guy was going to fall into my cleavage. another bloke buttoned the shirt up because he said he was having a hard time talking to my face. (awww.) this is a noteable thing at a function where the majority of women are wearing "less 'cotton' than you ususally see in an aspirin
bottle" (as my friend meg used to say). i was feeling pretty ... light-hearted at this point, and in the mood for wandering and watching, which pretty much became my prime objective for the weekend. i whizzed around and harassed the gp, but at some point i ended up out in the goth's smoking* area, outside the doors of the hyatt's convention area. i don't remember who i was talking to, prolly d. or tuber, but they left and said they'd be back. i said "i'll wait right here" and struck a dancer's pose as if i would wait like that. it felt kind of good, and certainly no one was paying attention (this was goth-leather-deader-than-you-freako-central) but then this guy came up to me and struck a similar pose. i said "care to dahnce?" and he said "certainly" and we attempted to swoosh off, but then we both simultaneously admitted that we didn't really know how to. (it's nice that you can forget that you don't know how to dance, innit?)
i can shake my bootay quite artfully, in a solo mode, but - like doc savage, slow-dancing is one of the two things that i'm just not very good at. like doc also, cooking is the other. i explained this to the bloke, but then i remembered my brother's quickie lesson at the starlite musical review and i told gabe - that was allegedly his name, gabriel - that i would teach him what joe had taught me. i then proceeded to spend one of the most enjoyable hours i had at con, learning to dance with this guy. we whirled and stumbled amongst the goths, taking turns being the boy and laughing when we forgot or faltered. it was really fun. after that, he offered me a drink and we sallied forth to his room for one of the truly most awful cocktails i have ever experienced - dr. pepper and crown. eeeeeyuuuurrrrrrrrk. it was even worse than jaegermeister, if you can imagine. we talked a bit. i found out that he was every bit as odd as i'd expected, and we had a good talk. i got tired and had reached my nigh-critical mass limit of alcohol and realized that it was time for me to go to bed. so said gentleman walked me to my door and gave me a very nice good night kiss. *gasp* yes, i kissed someone at con. call the newspapers. (no, mike, it wasn't chris reeves.). i went in, crashed hard, and dreamed of dancing in clouds of smoke among leather faeries...

-to be continued


*i saw a bumper sticker in the dealer's room that said "if you're so goth, where were you when we were sacking byzantium?"

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oh, monkeys. i am so veryvery sick. i have a BAD chest cold, hacking, wheezing, and then last night i just moved into the Congestion Zone. i went to work anyway. i figured, since i feel like pureed hell anyway, i might as well take it out on the masses. moowhahaha*hack*hack*urgh*argh*wheeeeeeeze*... yuk. i am running a fever, i hurt all over, and i just want to kick people. ok, i ALWAYS want to kick people, but today i want to kick them AND cough on them.
eeeevil.
i want to start a little "con remembrance diary" though, so i can catch y'all up on the fun.

mike and left at 12:30 !@#$ a.m. on friday, we got there about six because SOMEone didn't take a nap during the day, aherm, and had to pull over and sleep. no problemo for me, i was trained from infancy to sleep in a car, so i slept pretty much the whole way there (and the whole way back on tuesday, too. :) we got to the room and i squooged into bed betwixt tobie and dawoo and had yummy fuzzy snuggle-fest for a couple of hours.
even though we'd rolled in at the crack of dawn, i was up and bouncy and ready for an infusion of serious geekism by 8:30. I got up, showered and dressed and roused the crew. jen and burt were the only ones who kept decent hours throughout the weekend, so jen was up and sparky pretty early, too. she'd packed (tardis-like) enough food and supplies for the whole company, so there were breakfast options, coffee when we needed it and snacks for the mid-day. she also had good lunch-stuff, and pre-packed dinners for the whole crew. mm. :) i thanked her about 20 times for her good planning and taking over that kind of responsibility, but that wasn't enough thanks. i spent many-a-con (before the 'guesting' days) haunting the con-suite, sleeping in halls, and living on nabs and coke and alcohol. this was fatness supreme. as mike pointed out, it was like a little con-family* trip. we were six to a room, with jen and burt claiming one bed and the rest of us rotating between the second bed and the comfy floor pallets (i'd brought my little mattress and my karly dream-blanky). we kept the room nice and MOST of our stuff packed up and out of the way so that the room didn't get too crazy, and we never fought over the bathroom**.

my first plan on friday was to find the gaijin guys. i also wanted to see the action and get the lay of the land, but i had bid'ness to attend. before i could do that, though, i had to get through - bum bum BUMMMM! - registration. we went en masse, geek patrol unity, to the spot. jen had warned us that it could be madness and a long wait, but it actually wasn't too bad. mike had to get his name changed from allison (?) and i had to pick up my badge. as i was walking toward the entrance way, i passed a furry, much loved and well-remembered face, a SERIOUS blast from the past, my friend dean fagan from hattiesburg. we had recently reunited through SAM'S DAY OFF (yay!) and had passed a couple of e-mails, but what a surprise to see him standing in the hall! after the hugs, he informed me that another dear old friend, mike herrington*** was there with his new wife, jena. i walked into the hall and just hollered "MIKE HERRINGTON!" ("MIKE WAZOWSKY!") and enjoyed the look of serious surprise on his face when he saw me. his wife is a sweetie, so i didn't have to get all jealous and catty (i'd always had a bit of a thing for mike... hm...). i was SO glad that he hadn't married that ONE psycho that he' been with last, and jena was immediately sweet and friendly to me. i was also glad to see him upright, 'cause the last time we met, he was in a hospital bed suffering badly after a car wreck. he looked great, no change at all (except for the MAJOR upgrade in gals. go mikey! ;) we started catching up on the old home folks there in the line, and the gossip continued throughout the weekend. it was a good way to begin my first con in eight years...

-to be continued...

*well, what mike said EXACTLY was that it was like a "f#@%$d up family trip." :D
**ok, a couple of times we fought over not wanting to go NEAR the bathroom, but that's another story, and boys are gross.
***thanks for signing my guestbook mike! and thanks for the compliments on my sucker!

fyi & re: yesterday's rant - the offending guestbook post has been removed.
thank you, wet rats, o' webmaster supreme.

also, let me apologize publicly for my difficulty in stating my true feelings about things. i know that i am shy and reticent and have a hard time making myself heard, but i'm working on it.

ha.
-s

hi everyone. i know y'all are wanting to hear about 'con - and there is LOTS to tell, but this spot on my webpage is called a RANT for a reason, and there is something that i really MUST address here first (this is related to a recent post to my guestbook):

let's get this straight here and now, all curious and questioning and ASSUMING folks - I AM NOT DATING ANYONE. I AM NOT SEEING ANYONE, I AM NOT ROMANTICALLY INVOLVED WITH ANYONE, I AM NOT "FOOLING AROUND" WITH ANYONE, I AM NOT "SERIOUSLY" INTERESTED IN ANYONE, AND AM NOT LIKELY TO BE AT ANYTIME IN THE NEAR FUTURE!
got it? good.
and another thing. NOTHING kills any interest that i MIGHT have like finding out - BEFORE I EVEN !@#$ KNOW IT - that i am "involved" or "prospective" from people i've never even !@#$ MET. yes, this is all related a specific post, but i feel like this is something that the world - or at least the teeny segment of it that is interested in knowing more about me - NEEDS TO KNOW. i've addressed this statement up close and personal with the bloke who was EXTREMELY embarassingly named out loud in public forum, several days before this post ever appeared, so i don't feel bad at all about reiterating this right here for those of you who need to know.
so, i am going to list some very plain and important personal rules right here for future reference:

1: IF I DON'T TALK ABOUT IT HERE, IT'S NOBODY'S DAMNED BUSINESS!!!
2: NEVER, EVER, ASSUME ANYTHING ABOUT ME!!! i PROMISE you, if i find out that anyone has ASSUMED anything about me, i will change my tack, just for the !@#$ of it. this is a guarantee. ask the people who know me.
3: CHECK YOUR !@#$ FACTS BEFORE YOU GO POSTING THINGS (ESPECIALLY ABOUT ME!!!) TO MY !@#$ PAGE!!!

raar! that'll do for now. at least, i damned sure hope it will.

i am an extremely open and honest person, which is precisely why i need for some parts of my life to be just mine. IF i ever do find someone special, just for me, i will keep it to myself as long as i possibly can. when i have dated in the past, even my own, close, beloved girlies have only heard about it, and some of my friends, very close ones, have never even known the names of my paramours, much less met them. there is no !@#$ way on earth that some strangers (and that includes parents, friends, and !@#$ library patrons) are going to know my possible !@#$ business before I do.

in case you can't tell, i am livid. this is strike 3, in this particular case. those of you who can't keep your mouths shut and your assumptions to yourselves owe your own friend(s) an apology. i don't know you, so i don't give a damn, and i do know that my own friends would never do this. i do have a couple who are testosterone-impaired and who still haven't figured out not to ask questions, but hopefully they are learning. i wish the rest of you similar luck.

got it?
good.

hallo, all!
a quickie before i take off to con - stewart got my bid'ness card posted, and you can find it HERE!
wish us luck, no arrests, that kind of thing. tobie vows to make national news. whither tobie goest...
eek.
ok, nevermind wishing us luck - wish ATLANTA luck!
MUCH love (and geekiness),
-sam

hello, all. i was hoping to have another treat for you - stewart has made me some uber-swanky bid'ness cards for con, and i was hoping to be able to show them to y'all before i left, but poor stewart has been swamped* with work and with life, and just couldn't get to it**.
-SO, i have decided to give you another treat. some of you have already seen it, some have not. here is my very first (pre-weblog) rant***. WARNING: DO NOT DRINK ANYTHING WHILE YOU ARE READING THIS!

enjoy, take care, i will see y'all after con!
xoxoxoxox
-s

note: both this stewart link and the rant link are a couple of the hidden "easter eggs" somewhere on my webpage!


*swamped, swamed and rodeole'd!
**plus he can't go to con, either. brett, ken, sounds like magic/geek therapy is in order for stewart!
***DO be sure to follow the three picture links within this rant! it's worth it! put down your drink!

jams, sorry about the accidentally posted partial love letter. it has been deleted, it WILL be completed.

anyway.

i was driving down 176 tonight* and i remembered another summer, another highway, a moment id forgotten completely. what a gift when you get a memory like this back.
charlyn was driving her mama's silver camaro (late 70's?) down I-10. or maybe up it, i can't remember. we were some direction on the route between bfe, louisiana and bfe, mississippi, anyway.
i was in the passenger seat, i think casey, john, joe, who-knows-who was in the back - maybe piled into the front, too. the car was full of kids.
charlyn's the oldest of the six of us. we** are all one year apart for six consecutive years (except joe and casey, who were born six months apart in the same year...),
so, charlyn was maybe 16, me 15, and so on.
we were zooming along, free, buncha kids' in a hot car - in more ways than one, it was bayou summer. we were probably rockin' out to steven tyler and the boys. (charlyn was in charge of the stereo. we probably had jerry jeff walker in there, too.)
it was a good day.
traffic was fairly light. we passed some folks, and we were passed, too. we flirted with all the guys on bikes - unless they were skanky. we tried to make the truckers honk, and stuck our bare, brown legs out of the window, feet propped on the side mirror, hair turned into cat-o-nine-tails by the wind.
charlyn had been bird-doggin' with this other car a little. i don't remember what it was, but i seem to recall "muscle". there were kids in that car, too. boys and girls, all older than us. maybe going back to tulane for the summer.
we'd been sharing road with them for a few miles when suddenly they pulled alongside us, on my side of the car, yelling, cheering, flipping us off. they were angry, yelling, "F@#K YOU!" and making fists.
i couldn't believe it! i had nodded at them a couple of times as we passed, maybe even waved, in the beginning. i looked over to charlyn, and she shrugged, all innocence, and then it broke into a grinch-like grin. i followed the curve of her smile up and along her arm to where her hand stuck out the window - presumable resting on the roof. she'd been flipping them a constant, patented charlyn-delane-willliams skinny little crooked-ass big-knuckle bird for at least a mile by then.

i couldn't help but laugh. i gathered the courage to flip them off too, and then just prayed that charlyn would have the wherewithal to get the hell away from them.
she did.
she still does.

thanks for the memory,
and may you all always have the wherewithal. sally forth!
-s

how happy a day i've had...
i NEVER write drunk... i'm NEVER drunk.... BUT TODAY! whee! (even now, at 10:45 pm, buffy is standing here, telling me about marguerita loveliness... wheeee!)
today has been SO wonderful, we have had roadtrip and fabulous food (MY BRI-BRO MADE FRIED CHICKEN - omg, mm! - and good movie (WAY BAD STONE! SEE IT OW!) and then jack-in-the woodsing with my lovely court... what a day. this year, i have truly been celebrated. i cannot believe my blessing of friends. they treat me as a geek-queen, and i fell compelled to be worthy. who could be more lucky than i? who could be more blessed?
hard days come, and will come again, and hopefully i will remember these days. my courtier darrell said: as long as either one of us are alive, you will live forever.
mother-!@#$'in MOO!
universe willing, i be worthy.
xoxoxo
(as brett says) - our "inebriated" friend,
-sam