ON ACCEPTING THE FRENCH IDEA OF GENIUS:

If the video doesn't imbed (seems to be having an on and off issue today) here's the link: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/worldnews/article-1215240/James-Dean-lives-New-Allan-Gray-advert-gives-original-rebel-cause.html
(totally worth a look)


My first reaction: offended. As an eternal fan of James Dean, I am a bit miffed to see him raised from the dead to help garner recognition for a South African Investment firm.
My second reaction: my heart is breaking.

"Given more time, imagine the possibilities."

For fuck's sake. One of the last things I needed to see/hear today, as I'm sitting in my freezing cold office (it's hot outside, so the AC is cranked through the roof here at school), within eyeshot of a stack of portfolios almost 2 feet deep...and nary a one graded. It is overcast. I am annoyed. I want to sleep. I have a billion things to complete this week. My brain is being pulled in all directions: home/school/work/obligations/fascinations. Given more time, imagine the possiblities.

In honor of my no-time-having self, my todo lists:

Today:
prep 101
teach 10am
teach 11am
create discussion board for 06/08 sections
post Stephen King essay to all sections
update and reorganize course docs on blackboard
post power point on word choice to all sections
waste time by bitching about todo lists on LJ
grade 10 portfolios
do dishes
clean kitchen
walk dog (park??)--didn't happen.
grocery store
make dinner
wash jeans/towels
fold jeans/towels-put away
submission list/database update
ready submissions for 5 contests (find checkbook?)
shower
breathe
grade blackboard postings TR
check email for student issues
I guess if I don't do them I move them forward?

Tomorrow:
submissions in mail
complete proposal(s) for App Studies Conference
10 portfolios
check email for student issues
prep 101
teach 1:40
teach 3:05
prep MWF
Ketner lecture 6 pm
watch Project Runway
ready chapbook submissons
sleep

Friday:
Proposal(s) due App Studies Conf
prep 101
teach 10
teach 11
Blackboard postings for weekend
15 portfolios??
chapbook submssions in mail
ready more mms subs for Sat mailing
Zombie conference proposal
make dinner
gather notes for monday ethos/logos/pathos workshop at 1

Sat:
submissions
portfolios
presskit for roy, upcoming writers/book fests

Sun:
submissions
portfolios

I WANT to do the following things, but believe I might be nuts:
update squeefinity (I have 5 updates, but need to work on them before I post them)
start on invites/todolists for halloween
figure out if there is a way to get away for R and I's anniversary
start narrowing down poems for SAMLA presentation
get some things out to some people
finish my draw-a-cup
record some Blood+
work on fixing that quilt
work on some poems
write a bit

Things I need: time, James Dean, a massage, and (right now) something to eat.

If there were cameras filming me right now they would have seen the following things this morning.

1. Me yelling at Andrew Zimmern on the TV
2. My doing a Shark Week dance in my tankini.
3. Me scowling out the window because it is overcast.
4. Me staring at facebook with big eyes.
5. Me reading vicki's booklist (awesome btw!)
6. Me having a rather serious talk with Bruce regarding the neighbor dogs.
7. Me standing in the kitchen in my tankini, eating pudding out of a ridiculously sized container with a huge spoon, and periodically spitting chocolate chips back in the bowl I'm eating from. I don't like the chips.
8. Me doing a tomato dance in the kitchen.
9. Me performing the daily ritual of "mad list scribbling!"
10. Me coming up with a #10 to post on lj because I like round numbers. (Eff you number 9...the the 8 you rode in on.)

Lee Pace--I agree brain, he is lovely as hell, and my be my new boyfriend. (Look him up ladies...oh, so loverly)

I also thought I should research why it is people had to get blood tests before marriage. (Turns out it was to detect syphillis. Who knew? Not I. )

Rh type and Pregnancy--which is why I thought people had to get blood tested.  I am RH negative and I really, really needed to know what that meant right now. Thank you internet. (And curse you stupid blood, stupid, stupid!)

Now I just discovered that only 6 percent of the world's population has my stupid stupid blood. Thanks again internets! And I just discovered that the highest percentage of A- blood (82 %) is found among the Blackfoot Nation. This blood thing is interesting.  

Right now the Japanese are really into Blood types as signifiers of personality (positive and negative RH doesn't factor in here).

Here's a breakdown from a Japanese culture site ( http://www.bellaonline.com/articles/art22988.asp ):

Type O:
Type O's are outgoing, and very social. They are initiators, although they don't always finish what they start. Creative and popular, they love to be the center of attention and appear very self confident.

Type A:
While outwardly calm, they have such high standards (perfectionists) that they tend to be balls of nerves on the inside. Type A's are the most artistic of the blood groups. They can be shy, are conscientious, trustworthy, and sensitive.

Type B:
Goal oriented and strong minded, type B's will start a task and continue it until completed, and completed well. Type B's are the individualists of the blood group categories and find their own way in life.

Type AB:
Type AB's are the split personalities of the blood groups. They can be both outgoing and shy, confident and timid. While responsible, too much responsibility will cause a problem. They are trustworthy and like to help others.


Well, that seems weirdly likely. Weird.

From another site(http://www.issendai.com/rpgs/takemywings/bloodtypes.htm):

Type A

People with blood type A have a deep-rooted strength that helps them stay calm in a crisis when everyone else is panicking. However, they tend to avoid confrontation, and feel very uncomfortable around people. A types are shy and sometimes withdrawn. They seek harmony and are very polite, but all the same feel that they never really fit in with others. A types are very responsible. If there is a job to be done, they prefer to take care of it themselves. These people crave success and are perfectionists. They are also very creative, and the most artistic of all the blood types, most likely because of their sensitivity.

Perfectionist is equal to "control freak" right? If so...that's me! 

So, finally I'm starting to get tired. Hooray, hooray. Thank you internet. Thank you.

 

All anyone can do is talk about the weather, and this time with purpose, no small talk here (even the shallow folk, moi, are waxing all philosophical and itchy). Ill wind, loves, ill wind. Okay, Southwest Michigan is not Southern Europe (shocker, indeed), but something is going on here, because no one feels right in their skin. It could be that outside any AC it feels like breathing through a wet rag (and there's no AC for me...well, I guess here at work, but moving in and out of it really hurts more than it helps). What we need is rain and negative ions. Something to lift the large weight of atmosphere that's pushing us all groundward and doing strange things to our brains. (I did start part three of the long poem last night, "Rose of Sharon" is the working title...this will be the paradise section, although what kind of paradise mandie invisions ultimatly will not be the kind a more thoughtful, sensitive person will invision. It's gotten weird, I felt possessed; so, in the end maybe the weight of gravity will be a good thing, I mean it don't make for happy poems, but it do make for serious strangenesses. BGN is off limits for me until the weather breaks, otherwise it will eat my soul and the sorrows will pile up on Winter's head like a soap opera of gaylicious proportions.) COME ON THUNDER!!! Who knows anyone who can do a rain dance? Call them, tell them it's not about crops or the water table, but something far more important.

IS something looming all wicked and contrary? Probebly not. But ain't we all chock full of miasma and anticipated misfortune? And don't that make us see misfortune everywhere, or at least plain dumb luck and poor circumstance? So really it's us maybe? and not the wind? But if we need something to blame I suggest weather as a scapegoat. Weather or astronomy (dog days of summer...dog star biz), yup, why not? I mean we are so completely sane and blameless. Or, I'm wrong and will be attacked by a legion of hot air ballooning spiders this time, and the giant quarter will hit me, and every magic shop in the immediate and outlying areas will be closed to me, and a big wind will blow me into who knows what (only that it's quite uncomfortable), and no one's finaid checks will clear, and no one will love us quite the same way ever because we are filled with dibilitating panic, and we will even forget how to spell dibilitating, and maybe our own names correctly...why not? (None of those things seem particularly tragic on a grand scale though.)


So...for those of you whose skin is crawling in Mid-August Kalamazoo, and those who want to sympathize: the OED's Sirocco entry.

1. a. An oppressively hot and blighting wind, blowing from the north coast of Africa over the Mediterranean and affecting parts of Southern Europe (where it is also moist and depressing). Usually with the.

1617 MORYSON Itin. I. 211 The South-East winde (which the Italians call Syrocco) did blow very contrary to us. 1667 MILTON P.L. x. 706 Forth rush..Eurus and Zephir with thir lateral noise, Sirocco, and Libecchio. 1756-7 tr. Keysler's Trav. (1760) II. 96 The woods south of Rome are kept up as a fence against the Sirocco, or south-west wind. a1791 WESLEY Serm. lxix. Wks. 1811 IX. 251 There will be no Sirocco in Italy. 1818 MRS. E. H. ILIFF Poems sev. Occas. (ed. 2) 120 When dire Sirocco..From Afric's burning sands mephitic vapours brings. 1859 HAWTHORNE Marble Faun xl, Where the sirocco steals away their strength. 1884 F. M. CRAWFORD Rom. Singer I. 21 The sirocco was blowing up and down the streets.



transf. 1848 J. S. ROBINSON Sk. Gt. West 17 The dreaded Sirocco..burns us even through our clothes. 1870 Weekly Standard (Buenos Aires) 21 Dec. (Suppl.) col. 6 The Sirocco on Wednesday was so terrible that in the effort to keep cool, the mind reverted to icebergs and Polar travels but all in vain. 1872 E. BRADDON Life India ii. 14 From the west blows a scorching wind, the sirocco of..the Daodpore desert.



1819 SHELLEY Lett. Prose Wks. 1880 IV. 134 My health is better so long as the scirocco blows. 1861 E. A. BEAUFORT Egypt. Sepulch. & Syrian Shrines II. 223 Under the balmy skies of the early spring, before the horrible scirocco begins to blow. 1866 HOWELLS Venet. Life iii. 33 The insidious heat of the scirocco.



b. With a and pl.

1700 J. JACKSON Let. 2 Feb. in Private Corr. S. Pepys (1926) I. 278 But the weather being changed and the Sciroccos now blowing into the place of the Tramontains, this design is become impracticable. 1820 BYRON Mar. Fal. I. ii. 572 The atmosphere is thick and dusky; 'Tis a sirocco. 1884 St. James's Gaz. 11 Dec. 10/2 The storm..was followed by a sirocco, which lasted until noon.



1841 FITZGERALD Lett. (1889) I. 71 We have incessant rain, which is as bad as your sciroccos. 1860 MRS. HARVEY Cruise Claymore vii. 134 A khamseen was blowing;..this wind, which is an exaggerated scirocco, brings clouds of hot sand from the desert.



c. fig. A blighting influence; a fiery storm.

1864 G. A. SALA Quite Alone I. ii. 40 Now Scandal's sirocco seized a spiteful anecdote, and twirled and twisted and sent it spinning. 1865 J. H. INGRAHAM Pillar of Fire (1872) 401, I..have passed through a sirocco of the soul.



2. ellipt. A sirocco drying-machine (see 3).

1890 Daily News 2 Sept. 2/5 When the hops have been sufficiently rolled..they are..placed in the drying machine or sirocco. 1892 WALSH Tea 105 In the process of ‘firing’ the leaves are..placed in layers in a hot-air machine, known as a ‘Sirocco’.



3. attrib., as sirocco blast, -dust, fog, gale, weather, wind; also sirocco fan, a fan for forcing a strong current of air into a mine, etc.; sirocco drying-closet, drying-machine, oven, a closet, machine, or oven for drying hops or tea-leaves, by means of a hot, moist current of air (cf. 2).

1894 GLADSTONE Horace III. xxiii. 5 Your vines shall mock *scirocco blasts.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
1885 C. G. W. LOCK Worksh. Rec. Ser. IV. 115/2 About a third of the tea..is cured in Davidson's so-called ‘*sirocco’ drying-closets.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
1890 Pall Mall G. 1 Oct. 2/3 The first ‘*Sirocco’ drying machine (in which hops are being made into tea).
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
1879 Encycl. Brit. X. 266/1 The dust or sand of dried lakes..borne away into the upper regions of the atmosphere,..may descend again..in the form of ‘red-fog’, ‘sea-dust’, or ‘*sirocco-dust’.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
1861 E. A. BEAUFORT Egypt. Sepulch. & Syrian Shrines II. xxiii. 295 The mountains..were veiled in a dreamy, sad-looking *scirocco fog.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
1895 F. M. CRAWFORD Casa Braccio xxxvi, Then came November with its pestilent *sirocco gales and its dampness.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
1890 Daily News 2 Sept. 2/5 The machinery consists of a *Sirocco oven and a patent tea roller.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
1897 HUGHES Mediterranean Fever v. 193 It [sc. ice] will also be needed in warm and *sirocco weather.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
1777 A. ADAMS in Fam. Lett. (1876) 253 The same effect..which..the *sirocco winds have upon the inhabitants of Sicily. 1794 SULLIVAN View Nat. I. 19 An enfeebling and unhinging power, like that of the Sirocco wind.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Please rock me like a hurricaine,
Girly Lama

Not broken. ha ha, no cast for me. Dr. Bhatt sd he thought it were broken too, but it were not. So...three X-rays, and two confused physicians later here are the results: we don't know. Great. At least the school ins covered my visit and xrays. "Put some ice on it and rub it every once in a while." That's great advice. I do have an appointment at sports med next thursday for some physical therapy...for a bump...on my hand...um...that's not a sports injury (unless you count the fact that I got it from a rasslin' move).

I have an appointment in 1/2 hour for Dr. Bhatt to look at my hand. I asked arount and somebody said that it might be this type of cysty thing (GROSS GROSSSS GROSSSSSSSS!) that happens when a tendon is injured and that they would need to drain it (OMG I THREW UP IN MY MOUTH A BIT THERE...VURP!), or it could be something else. So I am mad, because I do not want a cast or a "drain" I am grossed out. It looks funny though, so that's why I agreed finally to go (despite my hatred of going to the doctor).

NYAHHHHHH. More later when I know something. Who wants to sign my cast if I get one?

And no more fist fights.

Right now I just wanna roll over and hide.

All I can think about is (not dianetics):

Archaic Torso of Apollo --RILKE

We cannot know his legendary head
with eyes like ripening fruit. And yet his torso
is still suffused with brilliance from inside,
like a lamp, in which his gaze, now turned to low,

gleams in all its power. Otherwise
the curved breast could not dazzle you so, nor could
a smile run through the placid hips and thighs
to that dark center where procreation flared.

Otherwise this stone would seem defaced
beneath the translucent cascade of the shoulders
and would not glisten like a wild beast's fur:

would not, from all the borders of itself,
burst like a star: for here there is no place
that does not see you. You must change your life.



and a snippet of a misquote from my brain, and I don't remember who wrote it...Lucifer by Carol Muske maybe? Might be from that then?

It's two am and we're on Lucifer, one of us a believer
arguing drinking, and I say if that once most
beloved angel of god fell, then he kept falling
into insight. Down and down she falls into her empty glass
while the night sky lights up with all he refuses to let go.



OH HELL, I must change my life.

Is rubbing off on her boss, who called her five minutes ago to laugh about some lady's outfit. And laugh we did! Oh, I am not a mean bad person am I? I feel panicky right now because I think that perhaps I am, ouch..my soul hurts, my most of me is achy, and I am cruel and wicked but don't even know it, maybe? Maybe that too, yes. maybe. And also am I so bad that I don't even know what I've said sometimes? Yes, probebly that too. Most likely that too. "Snarky?" Who said that first? I don't remember, but that also...snarky and sarcastic and unintentionally hurtful. I don't know, maybe I don't have emotions, maybe I'm not human ("you're not human it doesn't affect you.") but am just a jerk of a monkey.


Welcome, my friends, to the transition between manic and tragic, we like to call it self-pity and regret with a creamy center of total befuddletude. And no, you may need your whole seat, it could take a while for me to pick a direction. The 4th roast coffee is making my hands shake. I want to eat something other than slim fast. I don't wanna leave town this weekend. I am supposed to be sending out invitations for a bridal shower that has no date (to date). I feel lazy and neurotic at the same time. I don't feel very good, my stomach hurts, and I have a sinus headache. I probebly should have done something very different with my life. Why can't I be happy with a stupid day job? Why can't I be happy and dumb and leave everything at some 9-5 where there's no weight of judgement looming over me like a rabid student loan officer? Why don't I just drink myself silly at the bar? I see people who do this, they seem happy, they seem just fine in their lives. Why is it always little things that eat me alive? I want a big obvious problem with a big obvious solution, but none of my problems even exist, they just mass up, a bunch of smaller illusions and sit on my forehead (right where the crease forms "the curse" between my eyebrows like some sign of the beast) or on my chest and punch me in the neck periodically. Or maybe this is what it is, a small attack of randomly generated guilt/sadness that has no focus and no purpose other than to drive me slowly batshit.

What brought this on? I dunno. I never know. My mom sd I needed crazy pills, I sd no, I am okay with my crazy...and most of the time it's true. Right now I feel like I have too many things to do, but when I sit and think about them they aren't even there.

argh. I just wanna go to bed.

#4. Bad temper.
#8. Unfocused rage.
#12. Has a tendency to hit or throw things.

I am a very, very horrible girl, who does very, very horrible things. But...maybe people do just have to throw down once in a while. The good news is, all is quiet on the home front, all is lovey albiet the slightly guilty feeling eminating through the air. I am indeed a lucky girl, for many reasons.
Reason One: We got it all out.
Reason Two: There are no real witnesses, save for one small dog.
Reason 3: There's no permanent damage (mental, emotional or physical)
Reason Four: We forgive nicely, and will eat ice cream together.

Still guilty feeling, but at least we got it out of our systems? Who knows...everybody fights sometimes.

Guy on box o' cocks is not him...but I sd I would spank him on the butt next time I saw him anyway. He sd he was naughty...Rabbit was laughing uproariously...funny stuff.

Now we get noodles. NOOoooooOOOOODLES!

I did shower though. And clean the kitchen. So, yeah me! Bonus points. Bruce is being an ass pain, he doesn't want to go outside with me, so I have to carry him up the street and walk him back, otherwise he'll just hunker down and head for the stairs as soon as I set him down. See, so, no, not the best dog in the world, but he is cuddly...tee hee.

The things I did do: a few pages on BGN, mostly revision. I watched INUYASHA...which totally fucking ruled! And then I drew a really good picture of inuyasha...p.s. I am not in love with inuyasha, it is just a really good show. I am limiting my animated lovers to a select few. I also watched a movie, but it was in japanese, so I don't know what it was called, but it made me cry hysterically at the end, and I loved it. I like a good cry movie. (yes, it was a cartoon, but it was really sweet). Then I ate a whole bowl of chocolate pudding. By myself. So what?!! I like pudding...it makes me as happy as bill cosby (eat the puddin').

I also read Twelfth Night, why? Well, the movie was on, but it goes too slow and I read faster than they speak so, I figured why watch the movie when I can read the play in like 1/2 hour? Because I really do like the play. And, oddly enough, it gets props in the BGN, so it's like research. Somebody, aka one of ya'll, memorized the willow gate speech, who is it? Fess up. I have some shakespeare in my head, but it's all from MND and Hamlet. My fav line is "I could be caught in a nutshell and count myself the kind of endless space, were it not that I have bad dreams." (That's for you A.) I probebly messed it up, it's been a while. God, I love Hamlet...freaking awesome, death, mayhem, feigned madness, what's not to love? And MND is just dead sexy. My fav line from it: "Spurn me, strike me, neglect me, lose me; only give me leave, unworthy as I am, to be used as you would your dog." HA! or "In the temple, in the fields and in the town you do me mischief, fie demetrius."

Lesseee, whut else d'i do? Oh, yeah, In the Company of Wolves...what a cool, weird, movie. I love the werewolf thing, and I lurve Red Riding hood, so this movie is two thumbs up, ya'll. Sometimes it don't make a lick of sense, eh? That's okay, I'd rather see something try to be interesting and odd and fail from time to time, than settle for the lowest common denominator. I think the director made some bad choices, but at least he didn't make dumb choices. I recommend it, but it is a bit creepy and nightmarish, so don't say I didn't warn you. (Actually, last time I watched it I had very strange dreams about being little red riding hood, so I decided to be her for halloween that year, and I wrote a poem about it. So, ms. A, even if you are having nightmares, you should make something good out of them, write some poems, it's like purging them.) Creepy Angela Lansbury...that's not very murder she wrote of her!

Well, although I am tempted to stay up all night and write on BGN, I am off to bed. It is nice and cool this evening, I am clean and good smelling, and I have the whole bed to myself: so I am hoping for some good sleep.

(Don't freak, I'm not dying...I just thought it might be fun! ---yes, I realize it's a bit sick. ---no, I don't think it's morbid. ---jesus, gimme a break here!)

I, me, being of mostly sound mind and chubby (albiet hot, imho)body, do set for this, my last will and testament. After my death I would, as I have often said, like my head to be turned into a sweet candy dish. I leave the task of decorating my skull to Roy, Vicki and Allison. Roy, per his request, would like to keep my little finger, and it should be mummified so that he might keep it in his pocket. I bequeath to Bruce, provided that he does not preceed me in death, my stuffed animals and dirty underwear. If he does preceed me in death, somebody else can have the stuffed animals, but you should probebly just toss the undies, unless you really want them for some reason. Addidtionally, I would like his body/ashes/mummy/whatever to be placed with me in the ABOVE GROUND temple containing the rest of my body parts, which ya'll should build yerselves and decorate elaborately (remember I like sparkly things, and I love my doggums).
As to my massive amounts of stuff, junk, and the like. Roy gets most of it and can override anything I bequeath here after, quit bitching! Rabbit gets my Manga and my romance novel, if it is not finished, and if it is not finished she should freaking finish it! Ya'll can mud rassle over my poetry, but no matter who gets what poem ya'll better try to publish me posthumously, or I'll haunt your asses like a motherfucker. Vicki gets all of my clothes and my crafting supplies. My momma and poppy get anything they lay claim to, as long as Roy don't want it more, no arguing! My sister gets whatever she wants too, but she must also take the candy dish by my bed, and my wedding dress which is to be used for a halloween costume. Allison is in charge of divvying up any photos that Roy doesn't want, and gets first dibs on any she does want, and she gets my box of dork and "The Sword of Panthor." J-drive gets my car, because he won't drive it anyway and it's falling apart. Robin gets whatever shoes she would like from my closet. Desi gets my tarot cards...give them up Ms. A, you already have some from me...and one of my diamond earrings, which she should put in a ring someday. The other diamond earring goes to my brother, so he can wear it and be all bling. Dave gets my favorite blanket, the one with the snails and stopsigns, so he can snuggle it and cry. Roy is allowed to remarry ONLY if my bitches approve. And for god's sake somebody clean out the naughty drawer!

Also, I want a wake, with a keg, and karaoke, and baked beans. Also, someone should bury headless me in either a prom dress or a space suit in order to confuse archeologists from the future. And make sure I'm giving the thumbs up sign. Plus, I want an altar and you must worship at it at least once a year. Maybe you should start a religion around headless me? And don't fill my skull candy dish with free floating candies, they should all be individually wrapped...I suggest hershey kisses, or wintogreen lifesavers, which you could all stand around and crunch in the dark in order to give me a fireworks display (they spark when you crunch them. Try it, I'm not lying).

Any complaints should be directed to my dead ass. See ya'll in hell, suckas!

This has been the last will and testiment of ME! (Let's see a lawyer try to figure this shit out.)

I went to bed at 5 am, and woke up at 7:30 am. ARGHHHHhhh! Now I am at work, and Jen is out sick, so expect many lj entries. I am pooped, and I am wired. Come on crash and burn!!!

Look at the freaking time, what what what?

Good lord, I am so tired. Make it stop.

I am a happy girl, I am a manic itchy twitchy girl, but I am a happy girl.

My Desi is in love. I am swooning for her.

My Sunshine has some money.

My Vicki is in Prague.

My Roy is silly and sweet.

My Rabbit has overcome her fear of raunchiness, and is embracing her inner gay.

I have had very little sleep. My codine didn't take. So I learned some japanese, which I will now share with my friends.

Koi - Romantic Love (selfish)
Ai - General love (giving)
Yume - Dream
Yumimiru - dreaming
ashiteru - I love you
istumo - always
kokoro - heart
suki desu - to like
seme - top
uke - bottom (you know what I mean)

bakeru - motherfucker
OH, it was sweet until then, huh.

Crazy Now, must fidget.

Rabbit, how is it possible that we can talk for that long? GAH. (You caught my manic! Nyah, nyah!)

Here is news: Bruce and Jonah are, I think, in love. Too bad they're both boys and can't make bunny dog hybrid babies. I'm not sure that either one of them realizes what kind of animal the other is. I suppose dogs/bunnies only really care about three things: threat/non-threat/something to eat. Both seem to have decided that the other is a non-threat. This does not explain the face licking. That, I think, is evident of, if not love, then cuddles (unless Bruce is just tasting Jonah to see if he is something to eat).

RECENT BREAKING NEWS: I still hate FinAid! They can lick my cooch, and I won't lick back...no, I won't, I'll kick them out and say "Later bitches!...Where's my money?").

Recent DUH emotional weather report: Manic...I am planning a downsswing in August. A high anxiety system is pushing down from the north, we expect random mood swings and possible insomnia. The August forecast calls for a low pressure system centering around my brain, so, kids, take to the hills for shelter, and expect a breaking point around the 1st of the month. Sometime in July things should take a positive, sunny outlook, and seem fine for around 2 weeks before the depression takes hold. Expect phonecalls peoples.

In science news: I can't add.

In work news: I have to go to the bathroom. I like coffee. My barista was absent this morning.

In diet news: Yesterday I ate a dorito sandwich...that is NOT good.

Although, I think the rabbit has a wedding rehearsal and work. And everyone else is out of town...son of a #@&*$! (Classy like Yosemite Sam on a "Back Off" mudflap...ka-pow-pow!) Yippy ki aye, mo fos!

And for ya'll a cowboy quote:

"I don't mind seeing a guy in a cowboy hat, as long as he's a cowboy. I have my own little fantasy life going on too, but you don't see me running around town in my pirate hat." -Jeff Jena

Here's to cosplay! (Now, where the fuck are my loose socks, my schoolgirl uniform and my hello kitty hat? <---fantasy life=japanese drag queen "cutie culture". And yes, I realize how sad that really is! Back Off! If I were being honest, in my inner fantasy life I'm a hillbilly gear head, but that's not sexy. And really, the only accessories are missing teeth...so, japanese drag queen is more fun.)

Who knew I had a disorder...well, a real one anyways? And I am enamoured of this newfangled disorder, because it is a nice excuse to have on hand. "Oh, you know, my disorder...blah blah." It's always nice to have an excuse. So here: Restless Legs Disorder (aka Crazy Legs), is a really real thing, and it is what keeps my foot tapping like crazy when I sit down, it is what makes me do the "magic fingers" on the foot of the bed (uncontrollable leg movements which shake the bed violently like those cheap quarter driven massage beds), and what keeps me from getting a good night's sleep (apparently a sleep disorder that causes insomnia and fatigue). HA HA! I have an excuse for my behaviors, and, oddly enough, a reason for why my calf muscles look like one of those flat-chested female bodybuilders (apparently all of my fidgeting -flex/point/flex/point/tap/tap/tap/shake/flex/point/wiggle toes/wiggle toes/crack ankles/flex/point/flex- is a good workout). Crazy. The strange thing is, I never realized it was weird or obvious until folk began pointing it out. And I quote: "Jesus Christ, stop with the leg" or "Stop wobbling the couch" or "Mandie, you're vibrating the floor" or "Give it a rest, Crazy Legs!" Again, who knew? I thought folk were just being hypersensitive, I didn't realize that my legs sometimes pound like a jackhammer (sometimes my knees tense and release uncontrollably too).

Here are some fun facts about my new disorder:
1. it is hereditary (my mom has the crazy legs)
2. it only gets worse as you get older
3. it is a sleeping disorder which keeps the crazy leg haver (technical term, certainment!) from achieving REM sleep
4. it is annoying for anyone who has to sleep with you
5. there is no cure
6. caffine, alcohol, and the like make it worse
7. sometimes it hurts my calves
8. oooh, who wants a charley horse?
9. it could be aggravated by low iron levels in the brain
10. sometimes it makes you flail in your sleep like a loon

Interesting? Well, not riviting reading, but I am fascinated...please tell me more Drs...any other cool disorders I may have? What can I blame my fupa on? Or, is ther a disorder which makes the disordered slightly mean and cynical with just a touch of laziness and immaturity? If not, could we name it after me? Amanda Warren Syndrome. It is endearing, isn't it.