I'm Still Alive!

HI. SORRY. I kinda dropped off the face of the earth, there, didn't I?

I wish I could say my life has been hectic...Well, it sort of has. Between vacationing at Cape Cod and home and getting ready for school, I've been kind of busy.

In the span of two weeks, Sorella applied, got accepted, and left for college. We're all very excited for her. She left on Friday, just in time to meet Hurricane Irene on the coast. She lost power, but last I heard didn't need to be evacuated.

Hurricane Irene was a bit of a let down. Everyone hyped it up to be so big and horrible, and yet all we got was some heavy rain and wind. I'm actually disappointed. With all the time I spent tying down lawn furniture and getting candles and food in case we lost power and prepping the house...Incredibly disappointed. No loss of power, no flooded basement, minor debris...

I have many large, old trees around my house, most of which have branches that hang right over our bedrooms. Mater and I evacuated to my Aunt's house, just incase a tree should fall and destroy the house. As you can guess, that wasn't the case.

Pater lost power some time around 11 am this morning and has yet to get it back. Otherwise, everything is uneventful.

Last Sunday, a very dear woman became my Goddess mother. It was a wonderful ceremony, full of laughter and tears and vows and I'm so incredibly lucky to have this woman in my life. I'm sure Whimsy will agree with me.

I've gotten very absorbed in Doctor Who lately (yes, Whimsy, feel proud). It's on instant watch on Netflix, so Mater and I have been watching it almost nonstop. We're currently in season 3, with 1913 England and the Doctor having amnesia and prep-school boys and evil scarecrows. I don't know the episode name or number, can't you tell? So far, it's pretty good. Amnesiac Doctor is insanely adorable, I want to cuddle him.

It's still possible for me to hit fifty-two posts by the end of the year. Wish me luck!

Wander safely,
Arc.

I Have a Love/Hate Relationship with Dairy

When I was little, I was sort-of lactose intolerant. By sort of, I mean that if I ingested too much dairy in a short period of time, I'd get something akin to a cold. I grew out of it by the time I hit my teens. The same thing happened to my aunt and Fratello (granted, Fratello was allergic to EVERYTHING; milk, eggs, wheat, beans, etc).

Junior year; I had a New Year's party. Just before the party, I had some oreos. But, as always, oreos just aren't as good without milk. So, being a daring individual (because I generally don't drink milk, it tastes funny), I poured myself a glass of milk. It tasted a bit funny, but Mater said it was fine, so I drank it. It turned out to be TWO. WEEKS. EXPIRED. I spent all of New Year's Eve with the porcelain god.

I don't drink milk anymore. Fucking evil cow juice.

Senior year; Sorella and I were left home alone for a weekend. Being unconventional, we decided to get smashed alone instead of with a large group of people.

[Just a note - Rum is NOT your friend. Captain Jack Sparrow is lying.]

Anyways, I drank enough to puke my brains out. Sorella, having a bit more experience with booze, was unaffected. In the middle of the puking, I got a call from my (now) ex-girlfriend. She was pretty straight edge, so I told her that I had eaten expired yogurt. We later fed Mater the same story when I wasn't feeling well when she came home.

I didn't actually eat any yogurt. But I did develop a generalized taste aversion* to yogurt.

Tonight; I had a milk shake from Friendly's. It was a damn yummy milkshake. While I was in the bookstore, it only made my stomach uncomfortable, like I ate too much. The moment I went outside to listen to the Mc'lovins play, I became so incredibly nauseous (Pater later explained that heat speeds up bodily functions). I went home and threw up my milkshake.

Clearly, dairy has something against me. I don't understand why. I really hope I don't get an aversion to milkshakes now.

Wander safely,
Arc.

*Psychology term - Generalized Taste Aversion, discovered by Dr. John Garcia, occurs when someone (or rather, an animal) associates a certain feeling or taste with a food. Because I was thinking of yogurt when I puked up my liquor, the thought of yogurt now makes me nauseous.

Lack of Title is Lacking

I think these last two weeks are the time of death or something.

On the fourth of July, my (almost) 94 year old grandmother died. It's been a long time coming, but it's still really sad. I miss her tons, although I don't think it's really hit me yet that she's gone, and I'm reminded why I dislike Catholic churches. She was a hard core Catholic until the end, so she would probably be pretty happy with the service. Me, on the other hand, my idea of religion is dancing around a maypole.

As said by the post below, one of my kitties, Moustafolees, died of kidney failure.

Now, my other kitty, Riddle (yes, he was named for Tom Riddle. I got him for Christmas when I was in sixth grade), is missing. We've had to keep him outside for the last few weeks because he was peeing in the house, and now he's gone. I really hope he's not dead.

You know, I wonder if he was peeing in the house in protest to dying and Harry Potter winning. You never know. Granted, I'm pretty sure Riddle doesn't even know his name, but hey...*shrug*.

Happier notes! My Goddess Mother ceremony happens next week! One of my favorite women in the world is going to take up vows to be the Goddess Mother of Sorella and I. A Goddess Mother is pretty much the same as a God Mother, but because I follow a religion that recognizes a God and a Goddess, I would have a Goddess Mother and a God Father. However, there is no man I wish to name my God Father right now.

Mater went to Vancouver for a week and a half, and I'm proud to say that Sorella and I didn't burn down the house, need to go to the emergency room, or suffer from malnutrition, all of which were completely possible. When I stop and think about it, the least likely of those three to happen would be burning down the house. I'm not sure if that's a good thing or not. Sorella has a sort of love/hate relationship with the emergency room; she doesn't like it there, but she keeps needing to go back. And, as most young adults, we're lazy as all hell about food. We figure things will look more appetizing if we're more hungry, there's no need to put in effort to find food just yet.

But, otherwise, all is well in the land of Arcaine (even if this post is late. And incredibly uninteresting. Whoops).

Wander safely,
Arc.

The Storm

Here in my lovely little New England state, we've been in the middle of a heat wave. For the last week and a half, every day has been at least 80 degrees. The last two nights, however, we've had storms

Last night, the storm was SCARY. It came out of nowhere; high winds, thunder, and lightning you've only seen in National Geographic pictures. Sorella and her friend were tearing up the walls, they were terrified (until Friend this point of morbid calmness). It got worse when I had to drive over to Pater's house and close the windows. There was a lot of screaming in the car.

Sorella: OH MY GOD WE'RE GOING TO DIE.
Friend: DID YOU SEE THAT LIGHTNING?!
Arc: YOU TWO NEED TO CALM THE HELL DOWN SO I CAN STAY CALM AND NOT DRIVE OFF THE ROAD.
Friend: *Shuts up*
Sorella: *really tiny squeaky voice* Okay!

By the time we reached Pater, Friend had reached her morbid calmness ("If I'm going to die, I'm going to die. It's all cool.") and she and I just stroll up to the house. Sorella is tearing towards the house and yelling at us about "WHY ARE YOU WALKING SO SLOW WE'RE GOING TO DIE!!!".

In the end, we didn't die. We closed the windows at Pater's, went back to Mater's, and Sorella and Friend sat on the front porch and watched the lightning. I found that kind of ironic, considering how panicked she was earlier. I envisioned her hiding under her bed.

The second storm is happening right now, though it's mostly just thunder and rain. When it was just starting, I stood outside and enjoyed the wind.

I remember when Sorella, Fratello, and I were little, and whenever it rained really hard in the summer (or even late spring or early fall), we'd go play in the rain; dancing and laughing and splashing each other with the pools of rain water against the curb.

The rain is slowing now to just a drizzle, but there's this deliciously cool wind blowing in through the windows. I think I might have to go sit on the porch swing and enjoy the change in weather.

Wander safely (and play in the rain every once and a while),
Arc.

Ps. - I finally finished cleaning out my room! It hasn't been this clean since....I don't even know when!...It's a bit intimidating XD

Stories

Since I was really small, I've been doing stories in my head. Now that I'm older, I still do stories in my head  (and sometimes with Sorella). I know it sounds a bit dorky, but it's really rather fun. Lately I've been going back to old stories that I completely ruined by kidnapping the characters and running away from the plot and reworking them.

When I get really excited about a story, I share them with Charna. In my experience, there's very little that can compare to the feeling of telling someone a story you've created and having them actually be interested. Charna sat and listened to me for about two and half hours tonight as I shared what I was working on with rapt attention. Not only did she offer ideas, but she also inspired me to start a whole file of character information, family trees, and general knowledge relating to the world.

As corny as it sounds, the story I'm reworking is a vampire one. No, it has nothing to do with Twilight (and it makes me a bit queasy to know I just mentioned that horrible series in the Arcana Files). If it draws from any already created vampire series, it would be Vampire Knight (almost a little too closely in one particular plot line).

My favorite part of writing a story is making the characters. I love flushing out their personalities and then putting them in situations. In some cases, characters happen organically. For example, in this particular story, there are two women, Cornelia and Marion, and I think they might be closet lesbians. I don't know what happened; because I skipped around throughout the story, I don't even have a scene for them meeting or even interacting much, and yet all of a sudden their relationship is much closer than friends (but not quite lovers). It was weird.

When I make characters, they become very real for me. In the stories I create with Sorella, it's almost as if the characters are very close friends we haven't seen in ages. We go to the mall and look at clothes and say, "Wow, that vest is so Remy" or "Aid would wear that". It's really fantastic, considering we haven't worked with those characters in a good three or four months.

I think what I find most interesting, however, is that I still find this story worth working with even though I have a definite ending planned out. Usually, once I know the end, the story dies for me; I don't see the point of filing in the blanks if I know the final result. Maybe the difference is that I'm not creating, but rather twisting, embellishing. I'm still very in love with this story.

This story almost makes me want to write it all down, but we know where that leads. Maybe once I have all my character files, world comments, and plot outlines created, I might do so. I might even share it with you. You never know. Whimsy might be able to get a NaNoWriMo out of me yet ;)

What kind of stories do YOU make up?

Wander safely,
Arc.

CHICKENPOX?!

As many of you recall, I'm nineteen years old, and like most kids, I had the chickenpox when I was little. I didn't have a raging case like Sorella and unlike Fratello, the freak of nature, I didn't have it twice.

Until now.

I came home from Collegeland and within six hours, I didn't feel good. I had this pain behind my ears that we deduced to be swollen lymph nodes, and I starting having a vicious cough. My energy was sapped. I have really bad sinus to begin with; I have to take medication from October to May or I get sick about every six weeks (I'm allergic to dust and animal dander). So, going from an open, relatively dust free college dorm to a closed up, dust infested home of two cats isn't the best idea.

When I woke up on Monday with a swollen eye, Mater sent me to a walk in clinic. The diagnosis? CHICKENPOX.

Or, more accurately, Shingles (the adult version).

.....WHAT.

I have no idea how I contracted it. According to the clinic, you don't need a sick kid. When you're little and get the chickenpox, you assume you're safe from every having it again, and so your parents don't get you the vaccine. Bad idea.

The chickenpox virus is like a sleeper solider; it stays in your system even after you're cured. Then, it waits for your immune system to be weak, and it attacks. This explains how Fratello had it twice.

As far as sicknesses go, it's really not that bad. I'm not sapped for energy and I can breathe through my nose. The sucky part is the swollen eye, the intense pain in my eye muscles, and the headache. It trumps all headaches I've ever had. I'm ridiculously sensitive to noise. Example: Pater keeps the TV volume anywhere from 35-50. For me, anything about 12 is too loud. It sucks ass. Worse than that, if I move too fast or cough, it feels like my brain is trying to explode out of my skull.

Oh, and the most entertaining part? Chickenpox and cold sores are variations of the Herpes virus. In order to get better, I'm on Herpes medication. They're freaking HORSE PILLS.

Wander safely (and don't get the pox!),
Arc.

Oh, The Places We Will Go...

Mater* and I can never take a trip together without nearly dying of laughter. That or crashing the car due to said laughter. Mostly, I think it’s due to communication issues, or  maybe we just find anything nearly-die-of-laughter-regardless-of-how-stupid funny.

Esempio Uno*:

Mater and I are driving home at night. She's in the middle of telling me about something that happened during her day. She's not paying much attention to the road, or the possum that has just wandered into it.

Me: Possum.

Mater: *doesn't notice and keeps talking*

Me: POSSUM.

Mater: *Still doesn't notice, still talking*

Me: POSSUM POSSUM POSSUM POSSUM POSSUM POSSUM POSSUM POSSUM!!!!!!

Mater: *getting exasperated* What the hell. If you don't want to hear my story-

Me: YOU'RE GOING TO HIT THE POSSUM!!!!!

In my defense, shouting "POSSUM!!!" made perfect sense. If I shouted "JOHNNY DEPP!", wouldn't you immediately start looking for Johnny Depp?

Esempio Due*:

Mater doesn't slow down for animals (as probably shown above). She is a large believer in natural selection; if it's smart, it'll move. For her credit, she's never hit an animal, but that doesn't stop my or Sorella's* adamant demands to slow down for them. 

On a trip into NYC to pick up my things from my dorm, I tell her to slow down for a pigeon.

Mater: Don't worry, it'll move.

Me: No, it won't! I stepped on a dead one the other day.

Mater: Well, of COURSE it didn't move! It was DEAD.

Me: EXACTLY!!

Mater: Listen to yourself, YOU'RE A COLLEGE STUDENT.

Me: What do you mean, listen to myself, it didn't move, so it DIED!

Mater: OH!

When I provided that I stepped on a dead pigeon, she assumed I thought that even though it was dead, it would have moved. I, on the other hand, was proving that they don't always move, seeing as I found a dead one.

Esempio Trè*:

We're bad with directions. We make one mistake headed somewhere ONCE, and from that point on, we make the same mistake EVERY TIME. Mistakes are just so comforting. We found this incredibly funny during our trip to Pleasantville on Three Kings Day. 


Me: Where are we going?
Mater: To the diner.
Me: But isn't the diner back there...?
Mater: Of course it is. But this is the way we go: we amble through town, pass the diner, go into the parking lot on the side street, come out the other side, and park by the diner.
Me: ...That is what we always do, isn't it?


While we were dying of laughter about this, Sorella was freaking out in the back seat because we weren't paying attention to the road. Intelligence: WE HAS IT.


Similarly, we ALWAYS make a wrong turn when we go up to Cambridge. Because of this, we end up lost in the MIT campus, wandering around aimlessly until we find our way back to the main road and continue up to Cambridge. She and my Pater* made this mistake the first time about eleven years ago and hence, we've made it ever since.

Moral of the stories? Pay attention to the road, no matter how ridiculously funny it can be.


Wander safely,

Arc.

*Check the oh-so-fancy new tabs up there :D