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.
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
Saturday, July 16, 2011
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.
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.
Sunday, July 3, 2011
Magical Mrs. Moustafolees
Thursday was a very sad day.
When I was in fourth grade, someone dropped a box full of kittens in the parking lot where Mater worked. She managed to catch this adorable little calico kitten and brought her home, much to Pater's annoyance. This little kitten grew up to be a beautiful, rather fat, cat. We called her Moustafolees from the play Cats. I know we spelled it wrong, but that's okay; it made it more her name.
She was a great cat. She liked to hang out near us if we were on a couch or bed. Her tummy would dust the ground when she ran. She loved to be petted. If we started petting our other cat, Riddle, she'd watch us expectantly, waiting her turn. We called her Stafa-lump a lot.
At the start of this week, she got lazier than usual. She started laying around the house in unusual places and didn't really acknowledge our presence, when she'd normally look up and demand love and affection. Thursday morning, Mater took her to the vet.
Moustafolees' kidneys were failing. Mater was given the choice of a very expensive surgery that only had a 50% chance of helping her, bringing her home and letting her die slowly on her own, or putting her to sleep.
So Thursday morning, Moustafolees left us. It sounds cruel, but we put her body out with the trash. We didn't do it because we didn't care. We loved her dearly. But our trash gets burned, and we thought it'd be a nice thing to turn her body into energy, so she could always be with us.
Blessed be, Moustafolees. We'll miss you so much. I hope your Summerlands are everything you could ever want.
Wander safely,
Arc.
When I was in fourth grade, someone dropped a box full of kittens in the parking lot where Mater worked. She managed to catch this adorable little calico kitten and brought her home, much to Pater's annoyance. This little kitten grew up to be a beautiful, rather fat, cat. We called her Moustafolees from the play Cats. I know we spelled it wrong, but that's okay; it made it more her name.
She was a great cat. She liked to hang out near us if we were on a couch or bed. Her tummy would dust the ground when she ran. She loved to be petted. If we started petting our other cat, Riddle, she'd watch us expectantly, waiting her turn. We called her Stafa-lump a lot.
At the start of this week, she got lazier than usual. She started laying around the house in unusual places and didn't really acknowledge our presence, when she'd normally look up and demand love and affection. Thursday morning, Mater took her to the vet.
Moustafolees' kidneys were failing. Mater was given the choice of a very expensive surgery that only had a 50% chance of helping her, bringing her home and letting her die slowly on her own, or putting her to sleep.
So Thursday morning, Moustafolees left us. It sounds cruel, but we put her body out with the trash. We didn't do it because we didn't care. We loved her dearly. But our trash gets burned, and we thought it'd be a nice thing to turn her body into energy, so she could always be with us.
Blessed be, Moustafolees. We'll miss you so much. I hope your Summerlands are everything you could ever want.
And we all say
Oh, well, I never! Was there ever
A cat so clever as
Magical Mrs. Moustafolees!
Wander safely,
Arc.
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Eating My Soul
Because really, I don't spend enough time on the internet already. Between facebook, web comics, The Arcana Files, fanfiction, and music, I've decided I need a Tumblr, too. A little late to jump on the bandwagon, I know, but really, that thing was bookin'.
I swear, if anyone ever figures out how to use the internet as a way to brainwash the human race into becoming a mindless hoard, we're all screwed. At least, my generation and on.
...Well, that's sort of already happened. But that's besides the point.
If any of you are interested and not yet sick of me, you can find my Tumblr here. It's the same username as tAF, but, in a spark of inspiration (and lack of originality), I titled it "Come On, Skinny Love...", a popular song by Bon Iver. Although, I'm very tempted to rename it "Eating My Soul" instead. It has an interesting ring to it.
In an attempt to make this sorry excuse of a post a little less sorry, I leave you with a piece of my writing I rediscovered while cleaning my room.
Wander safely,
Arc.
PS. - Cleaning out my room, I found my ex-girlfriend's...
I swear, if anyone ever figures out how to use the internet as a way to brainwash the human race into becoming a mindless hoard, we're all screwed. At least, my generation and on.
...Well, that's sort of already happened. But that's besides the point.
If any of you are interested and not yet sick of me, you can find my Tumblr here. It's the same username as tAF, but, in a spark of inspiration (and lack of originality), I titled it "Come On, Skinny Love...", a popular song by Bon Iver. Although, I'm very tempted to rename it "Eating My Soul" instead. It has an interesting ring to it.
In an attempt to make this sorry excuse of a post a little less sorry, I leave you with a piece of my writing I rediscovered while cleaning my room.
And she doesn't want to be
The wind beneath his wings
Or the reason he sings
The fire in his eyes
Or the reason he dies
She just wants to see
All he can be
In the depth of his soul
Like a dark empty bowl
And she wants to be a part of everything
And to hear that silence ring
Out into time and space
Reflected in every beautiful face
That fills the room with light
The one that keeps her awake every night
And she just
Wants him
To love her.
Wander safely,
Arc.
PS. - Cleaning out my room, I found my ex-girlfriend's...
- Assorted drawings
- Guitar tabs
- Philosophy homework
- Name tag from Youth Sunday
- Playbill from the last play she was in
Saturday, June 18, 2011
Summer, Summer, Summer, Summer!
It's here!
The title is actually a part of a song from Charlotte's Web (a musical version I was in at a church near my house). It was HORRIBLE. We had broadway-grade music for a cast that was mostly minors. Our director kept flipping out because the adults kept missing their notes and the tempo....The song, or at least what I remember, went like this;
The only song more evil on toast than this was the County Fair Song and it's reprises. Every piece didn't work alone at all, but together it sounded good. I had to start this one.
Although, really, this wasn't what I intended to write about today.
I love summer. Not so much the heat, but, as "Summer" put it, the shorts and getting nothing done. Pater and I planted the garden last week, so soon we'll have all sorts of veggies coming in; tomatoes, cucumbers, peppers, squash, eggplant...Happy Arc is happy. And redundant.
The sad thing about summer, however, is job hunting. I don't mind the idea of having a job. I actually quite welcome it. But no one is hiring! It's so upsetting. I want to be busy(-ish)! And have monies! I will do manual labor for it!
Even WORSE, I had an interview at Borders. Not that Borders is evil. Quite the opposite. I love bookstores. I live in the one near my house. The problem is that, two weeks after a pretty good interview, I still haven't heard anything :(
I called a week after, and was told the hiring manager was in training. This could mean I'm shit out of luck, or that he was getting trained for something else. They took my info and said they'd get back to me.
They don't.
I call a second time and they tell me it's the weekend and they don't look this stuff up on the weekend; they're too busy. Again, they take my info and say they'll get back to me.
They don't.
I call a THIRD time and they tell me the hiring manager is on VACATION and won't be back until the end of the week. They take my info...You get the idea. And it's getting old.
Any of you lovelies want to hire me? I'll be good, I promise. I'll do (just about) anything for minimum wage!
Tell me about YOUR summer plans and loves :)
Wander safely,
Arc.
The title is actually a part of a song from Charlotte's Web (a musical version I was in at a church near my house). It was HORRIBLE. We had broadway-grade music for a cast that was mostly minors. Our director kept flipping out because the adults kept missing their notes and the tempo....The song, or at least what I remember, went like this;
"Summer, summer, summer, summer, summer's coming in!
Time for wearing shorts, and sports and getting nothing done!
Summer's meant for fun!"
The only song more evil on toast than this was the County Fair Song and it's reprises. Every piece didn't work alone at all, but together it sounded good. I had to start this one.
"A wonderful day for a fair.
A wonderful day for a fair,
A wonderful day for a fair,
Here are your slops!
[Insert spoken lines I don't remember]
And Mr. Zuckerman's thinking of taking you
In the old pickup truck today and exhibit you there,
Down at the county fair!"
Although, really, this wasn't what I intended to write about today.
I love summer. Not so much the heat, but, as "Summer" put it, the shorts and getting nothing done. Pater and I planted the garden last week, so soon we'll have all sorts of veggies coming in; tomatoes, cucumbers, peppers, squash, eggplant...Happy Arc is happy. And redundant.
The sad thing about summer, however, is job hunting. I don't mind the idea of having a job. I actually quite welcome it. But no one is hiring! It's so upsetting. I want to be busy(-ish)! And have monies! I will do manual labor for it!
Even WORSE, I had an interview at Borders. Not that Borders is evil. Quite the opposite. I love bookstores. I live in the one near my house. The problem is that, two weeks after a pretty good interview, I still haven't heard anything :(
I called a week after, and was told the hiring manager was in training. This could mean I'm shit out of luck, or that he was getting trained for something else. They took my info and said they'd get back to me.
They don't.
I call a second time and they tell me it's the weekend and they don't look this stuff up on the weekend; they're too busy. Again, they take my info and say they'll get back to me.
They don't.
I call a THIRD time and they tell me the hiring manager is on VACATION and won't be back until the end of the week. They take my info...You get the idea. And it's getting old.
Any of you lovelies want to hire me? I'll be good, I promise. I'll do (just about) anything for minimum wage!
Tell me about YOUR summer plans and loves :)
Wander safely,
Arc.
Thursday, June 9, 2011
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
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
Friday, June 3, 2011
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.
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.
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