conversations with a crazy woman and her muses

insert witty title here

2009-05-09T01:40:00.003-04:00

You would think after two years of not blogging on this thing, I'd have something interesting to say.
What's new this year? Umm...
1. I'm going to Disney World twice. Well, I went once- first solo trip ever, and it was awesome. Taking my cousin again later this year, because she needs to go and I will need a break from work by the end of summer.

2. I'm actually writing. A story.The same story, and not like fifty zillion ideas that never see the light of day. This one's at 50K, about half way or a little more done I think, and still going strong. All I know is I give my muse Mattie a lot of lime flavored anything, let him listen to all the Dean Martin and Bon Jovi he wants to, and we're ready to rock and roll. I keep thinking I'm going to wake up and have dreamed actually writing something I AM GOING TO FINISH, but so far hasn't happened.

3. I have a new Bible and I read it. I call it the Cheater Bible because it's some version that isn't neccessarily how they wrote it back in the day, because it makes a crap lot more sense. All I know is that a Bible that uses the line that somebody somewhere in Genesis was "In hot pursuit" cannot be all bad. ROFLMAO.

4. Two years worth of movies and TV I haven't commented on. What stands out? I just saw Star Trek, so there's that. I'm still mourning the loss of BSG... and also probably Sarah Connor. Sci Fi Friday, oh how we miss you *sniff* Movies... well there was Dark Knight. That's all the further my brain is going to work at the moment.
Why am I on this thing anyway? It's two in the morning on a Saturday. Time to go find the muse and write.

...

2007-12-20T20:40:00.000-05:00

Warren Ellis » God Hates The World

If anyone recognizes these people, please go fork their yards or something.

Seriously? Are they kidding? I am SO not showing that crap to Cris, dude, or we'll never hear the end of it.

And that's all the energy I have for that drama.

In other news:

I Am Legend.... Mattie loved it. I loved it too, but it was a bit morbid, a LOT sad, pretty depressing and not just because Will Smith has a Shelby GT and I've got, well, Hazel.

Been reading lots of Meg Cabot and Rachel Caine . Two authors I love who have my muse spinning in about fifteen directions sideways from Kat's story. But whatever, it's the holidays, as long as my muse is keeping my mind too busy to think about other things, we're good.

Getting divorced over the holidays SUCKS. I sort of hate you, J. And I do say GETTING divorced because that shmuck is still dragging this out or something. Sigh.

This writer's strike crap sucks. I totally understand, respect and support the writers, but the actuality of the strike sucks. Choirs singing Bon Jovi and Garth Brooks? Really? That's the best we can do? *sigh*. So, I did what any soap infested potatohead would do, and went to Blockbuster. Where I somehow managed to get five movies for the price of two. Don't ask me how, I have no idea, it involves a little blue keycard.

Last night's movie was Skinwalkers, a werewolf movie done the way I like werewolf movies to be done: Skip the gore and unneccessary Saw-Hostel- infested blood and yukness. Of course, it IS highly possible that I liked it because that guy from Roswell is in it.

Next up is Stardust, something with Colin Firth (if anyone gets it, what the big deal is with him, please let me know), and a couple of random muse movies.

Whoops... two hours off of work without checking in, must be about that time. Sigh. Someone shoot the holidays and get them over with. I wanna go to Florida.

30 Days of Night is F#%ing awesome

2007-10-23T14:07:00.000-04:00

30 Days Of Night - Official Site

It's been a long time since I've seen a good vampire movie. A LONG time. I didn't realize how long until I went to see 30 Days of Night. Josh Hartnett + based on a graphic novel about vamps = I'm going to see it whether it is the total bomb or sucks eggs.

It didn't suck. Not even close. Here's the warning: this is not the old Lestat that we've seen so much of lately. Or Jean-Claude or God help us, that atrocious person on the CBS Vamp show with Logan Echolls does Vamp.

They are exactly as vampires were meant to be, before someone romanticized them: hungry, evil, and WAY FUCKING CREEPY. Reminded me a bit of The Gentlemen from Buffy.

Thirty Days of Night, in case you live under a rock and didn't catch the trailer, is about a small town in Alaska going through the thirty day sun-out. A group of vamps decide this is the perfect place to come and play. Josh Hartnett is the sherriff who is adorably heroic, but not in any kind of creepy way.

The gore, for once, is fitting. They are vamps after all- there has to be some decapitation and a lot of blood. I can stomach the gore when it makes sense. Saw is pushing the limit of my tolerance and let's just forget things like Hostel altogether. If you're sensitive, stick to Lestat or track down that Henry guy on lifetime. He's adorable and doesn't sleep in a frakking freezer.

I am both in love with and destroyed by the ending, depending on when you ask me. Either way, it was a great flick. Certain scenes were so good, I swear they came right off the page of the graphic novel. Alaska as backdrop for a vamp flick was a fabulous touch- blood on the snow just looks... well, it's one of Ren's few nightmares, let's put it that way.

And of course I took the muses to the movie. Key didn't get the point, and was mad that someone was pissing around in Alaska. Erik was entirely amused by the whole thing. Ren loved it, but was a bit disturbed. The angel dorks showed up around the end, and I had to endure the hairy eyeball from Cris for going to see it in the first place.

Now I'm off to write; Kat says she's been trapped in a bad episode of Seinfeld for three days and if someone doesn't do anything about it, she's going to withold all my caffiene. Ack.

Music of the day: Muse, Muse, Muse. Maybe a side of Breaking Ben later.

From Neil Gaiman's Journal: Why write?

2007-10-21T14:17:00.000-04:00

Neil Gaiman - Neil Gaiman's Journal: Why write?

Mostly I'm just testing out this Google/Blogger/ Send it to my blog feature. Now that I have a fancy computer with Vista and all kinds of gadgets to keep me too preoccupied to write, that is.(Play PacMan on your desktop and Blackjack on your homepage! GASP!)

But I spend a lot of time trying to explain to the norms why I live in my own head and spend my time writing. The master Neil Gaiman sums it up better than I could ever hope to. Not that I've ever made it to the end of something. Yet.

HA! Now I actually feel confident that we WILL get to the end of Kat's story, eventually. Even if I only get two to ten pages a week, we'll get there. I have faith. And a lot of extra characters who want attention now that someone is musing.

Speaking of all that, I really need to get back to working on the story.

What I'm writing: Kat, as always. We're up to Chapter 13 in which Kat must devise a plan to escape a creepy sandcastle and also Las Vegas. Not the one with Josh Duhamel lmao.

What I'm reading: The Book of Joby, by someone named Ferrari of all things. Think... Memnoch without all the vampire drama, Gibbs as Lucifer, Cris and Zack being completely adorable and doing a scary good job of playing themselves (Gabriel and Michael, respectively), and a completely adorable little boy who has God all mixed up with King Arthur. Well, that's the beginning anyway. I really love this book, we may have to do a book report someday in the future.

What we're listening to: MCR, with a side of Muse to get the story kicking for the day.

ummm that's all, shoo everyone so we can get to work or something.

Hooray for Hollywood

2007-10-07T18:34:00.000-04:00

Who would have ever thought I would actually advocate going to Hollywood Video again? But lo and behold they are closing a bunch of their stores, and selling every last thing. Five bucks a movie, YAY. Anyone who loves movies, especially the old stuipd ones, needs to hurry up and get in there before the good ones are all gone. I'm totally on a mission to find some things I've been wanting to get on DVD but haven't ever had time to search for. Two stores down in two days, and I'm pretty sure this is all a secret plan of Hollywood Corporate to get back all the money I swore I'd never give them in revenue after we parted ways. So far we got a Ren movie, a Deedle movie, a Cris movie YAY, one dragon, one fairy tale I've never seen but looks cute, several horror movies for Ren who wanted to buy the whole damn section regardless of its Meyers content, an Arthur movie, and About Last Night which if I have to explain the concept behind THAT movie, what the fuck are we even doing here.

In other news, three months after the last post and we're almost at 33K. Not very much as far as progress goes, until you count the fact that I have it all completely plotted out and I work about 50 hours a week. But the greatest part? I'm having FUN with it. I finally found a voice to speak through that translates. Translates to what, well that's debatable. But I'm writing, and that's all that matters. I think the fact that somewhere along the lines this spring and summer, I decided to hell with trying to live up to anyones standards but my own. Yes, I write or wrather play around at it. No, I definitely do not have delusions of grandeur- I'm just doing it because its fun, and maybe when I'm done I'll have something to entertain someone with. I love telling stories and entertaining people with them. Out loud and in person, I completely suck at it, and get bogged down by things like shyness and being retardedness. But I stopped worrying about whether people know I live in the land of the loony tunes or not. I've got lions and tigers and a bunch of other dumb dorks around almost constantly, which pretty much means I'm having more fun.

What else.... I've sort of become a regular at the Louisville zoo. I'm working a lot. My divorce still is not final, sigh, because Jackoff Jason spent his summer dragging his feet. I'm boycotting christmas- we're going to have Nightmare Before Christmas decorating theme going on this year in my new apartment. Hopefully they won't kick me out when I put up my halloween tree.

Random cool things: Heroes is back (Ben, YAY); Kid Nation, Gossip Girl, and Life on Wednesdays; finding new fruit to throw at the TV on Thursdays; Stephenie Meyer books; Gilmore Girls on DVD, but only seasons five and six for liony cuteness; Muse,Bryan Adams, and Kat's Rain playlist; husbands of old friends who are successfullly published brilliant authors and other good friends with Maggies (these last two need to be promoted, but I'm saving that for another day, because the end of a post about Hollywood Video is SO not the proper place)- and I think that's it for the moment.

Current music- Rob Zombie. Ren highly recommends the new Halloween movie, by the way, but only after an original Halloween movie marathon at home.

does the happy writer dance

2007-07-18T23:21:00.000-04:00

If Kat and Finn's story was a movie, Aerosmith's The Other Side would be the song that plays at the end.
Why am dancing? Because I've got about 4K progressively on the start of an actual story. Which I love, with a voice I've finally found that I also love. I also have almost 2k more in out of sequence scene junk.

Maybe that sounds like small potatoes to the rest of you, but its huge and happy thoughts to me.
And that's all from the previous. Today? 4K MORE worth of a scene that isn't even GOING in kat's first story, but it's a progression of what's going to happen in the future. I'm so excited to get to that point and see where we go with what was accomplished today that I can hardly stand it. I'm ALSO loving puzzling out the original story. Unlike with Mattie's, I don't know exactly where Kat's is going to twist and turn through. And that's okay. She's already made one new friend who's going to be a regular around here even if we don't write another word.
But I will, YAY. Thank you to the cookie monster and her assistant for getting me going and keeping me at it.

I love being a writer.

Oh yeah and Key? You're still way in trouble, dude. Have fun sleeping on the sofa outside in the rain *snort*.

what good are a thousand ideas without a story?

2007-07-06T01:43:00.000-04:00

I must have a thousand ideas. And a thousand different characters for each idea. Of my three muses, one's story has been told, in my head, and I got about a third of it down in Word. Where's the rest? It seems impossible to finish. I've tried. Every time I try to delve back into it, I have to deal with the fact that Mattie's world has changed some since we tried to write Dead Earth. Which POV is better, Duff's or third? Hell if I know. I LOVE Mattie's perspective, but sometimes I worry that the adorableness of it is lost from the outside. Then there's the fact that I can never focus on one POV without trying to throw in twists. I KNOW what happens in Duff's story. I guess going back and writing all the tough parts seems boring. My mind is constantly going in a million directions. Focusing on something that's DONE is hard. Harder than I have the willpower for, apparently. Hell, I write to entertain. Mostly myself, and even if I act the normal for the mundys, there are worlds of things going on in my head. What fun is a story I've already found out the ending to?
Then there's Key. Key's story doesn't really have an ending. Key's story will end when I end, it's as simple as that. I have characters that come and go, and ones who have evolved. Key evolved from Joey, and Ren. Key gets me through the tough shit. Some day I could sit down and write the story of how Key meets the people he's spending the rest of his life with... his past, how he became a Merlinn. For now, that's all private. Watching his family live their lives keeps me musing and entertained, but I have no designs on pimping out Key's life to make a buck, or entertain someone else. Not yet, anyway. God knows Key and Ren have done all kinds of ridiculous shit for money, not that either of them need it, lol. I guess it would be a smart idea then, since we're not writing Key any time soon, to stop musing up new stories that tie in to what happens with Key and B, and Keaghan.
Then there's Cris. Cris doesn't have a story, he just snoops in on everyone else's. Biggest gossip I've ever seen, seriously. If I didn't know better, I'd think DOOL was created by an Angel. Cris has his own thing going on. Rhams and all that drama... now he's married or something and yay for him being sorted but its not getting me any closer to a word count.
What's the point of all this? I get to whine about being lost and now I can't even blame these three dorks.
Lately I've been having more of those days where I want to toss everything I've mused up in the can and start over. Of course the blank slate would come with Key and his "What the fuck babe, you can't toss me out and you god damn well know it"; Mattie, lost that he's supposed to be erased because he was busy flirting with Keaghan or some woman we don't even know, eating pizza; and Cris, lost under a pile of blankets, waiting as always for me to tell him a story. Preferrably one with a happy ending. Sigh.

I think my biggest problem is that I've got these three dorks, and all their drama. I've got a huge cast, and more drama. But the thing I need most, the thing that drives me to write, is a voice. THAT, that is what I'm missing.
Okay, Mattie has a voice. It's adorable and somewhat blonde. Jump up to the beginning and repeat.
Key also has a voice, but he's too much of an asshole for the rest of the world. Jump up to the beginning and repeat.

I thought I had a voice or two, but my world being tossed in a blender and set to puree at the beginning of the year has left me lost and confused. I'm not mourning a person...relationship I guess I should say. But I am mourning... the loss of my belief in love, romance, happily ever afters... MY shot at love and romance and happy ever after.
I've been struggling to find a voice to write with. Someone who' s in the same place I am- dealing with all the stages of divorce and grief and etc. Someone strong, like me, and independent, like me, and a little bit heartbroken over the idea that her happily ever after took a flying leap out the window. Someone through whom I can maybe whittle out a bit of hope, convince myself that going back seven years to wishing on stars is a good plan.
I'm working on one. Maybe, it will work. Maybe, it won't. At the moment she seems mostly flat and boring because she is, of course, MY voice. Toss all the sparkly cutenes and raindrops around her you want, but its still me talking through her, so yeah.

Then there's Martin's story. Martin's story has been dying to be told for a long while now. It could be fun to write. The problem is it requires a lot of setup and thinking on it and delving into that world.... and every time I set aside a block to write on it.... work calls. Deal with this, deal with that. Ooops I'm going on vacation and have no fucking work ethic so I'm sorry Ceej, but you've gotta cover. Hope you didn't have a life or plans or any other fucking thing, my boyfriendgirlfriend and i are going to florida chicago vegas nyc, you know, all the places you want to go but never get to. Keep working your ass off for that nonexistant bonus. Sucker.

Speaking of which, I have to go conduct a meeting on customer service in the morning because my employees don't yet grasp the simple concept of being friendly and saying hello. Tomorrow's lesson will be about writing shit down, remembering what your boss tells you to do, and the simple truth that anyone over the age of twenty should not have to be told to put on their name tag. Time for a quick nap.

what good is a blog without a fairy tale to get it restarted

2007-06-10T03:30:00.000-04:00

Once upon a time there was a woman who lived for romance. She loved Happily Ever After and expected it in everything she did or read, much to the annoyance of her friends. She believed in fairy tales and cheesy soaps, and Santa Claus . Every night she wished on a star or two that she'd fall in love with someone who could be not just her husband, but her friend.
When her prince came along, he was handsome, if a little tarnished. But then so was she. He carried with him the keys to the kingdom of magic and fairytales, and sometimes they even spoke the same language. She was happy and in love. They lived in a slightly rotted castle with two small subjects and one rather large one.
Then one day, without any warning, the tarnished prince brought home an ugly stepsister, and her small child. The prince claimed he wanted a refund, so that he could start a new chapter in his Happy Ever After with the ugly stepsister and her little girl. The woman's heart was broken, because more than anything, she'd wanted a child of her own. She hadn't realized her fairy tale came with an expiration date.
Her belief in love and happiness destroyed, the woman moved out of the rotted castle. She took the most obedient, loyal, and loving of the subjects with her to a new land far, far, away. Or at least down the Snyder several exits. They found a new castle which the woman decorated with fairies and seashells, and they were fairly happy.

Now the woman and her subject spend most of their time lost in the land of dreams, searching for a new fairy tale. She's not sure she believes in love- for her at least, but the evil prince was not able to destroy her belief in romance. She still expects it in everyone else. She's guarded as always by her constant companions: a tiger, who is cranky but loved; the world's first environmentally-friendly dragon, who eats too much pasta; and the Angel who protects her heart.

If you're looking for the woman, look with your heart, not your head. Occasionally she fades from this world into the land of dreams and stories, and is not always easily seen. Never fear, friends: she has many more stories to tell- and Happy Ever Afters to find- before her own story is done.

what the hell are you waiting for~ i came i saw i conquered

2005-06-25T02:29:00.000-04:00

Life is fucking insane, babe. I've been looking for Kiel Delvarian's gay ass for about six goddamn years now. Jesus Christ I almost went to Colorado three times, then something came along, got me sidetracked, and I thought, no way. Key, he always talked about going where it's warmer. What the fuck would he be doing in frosty the fucking snowman land.

Fucking some goddamn were whatever, apparently. Could have knocked me out with one of those goddamn oranges Sky's kid is always throwing around, when I found out Key was a damn tiger.

Which explains why it took me six years to find him.I was looking into just about everything Key was into, gay shit straight shit criminal shit, fucking your gay teacher shit, but I wasn't looking into my own world, the paranormal world. Because far as I fucking knew, that's why he left in the first place.

I'm not getting into the Kara thing, babe. If you haven't heard it by now, you'll have to track that shit down or die trying. Seventeen year old Ren, every bit the criminal if not more so than I am now, fell in love with Key's twin sister Kara. She was naiieve as anything and completely perfect. Not, perfect for me, just in general. Yeah, I can honestly say that shit. Don't ask me how the fuck someone like Kiel had a perfect sister. I got the fuckin sister from hell. Which, I guess in a fucked up sorta way is perfect, for me.

Now Key and I, both had shit going on. His game concentrated on running the school he went to, fancy ass boarding school shit at SCD. Me I went to Elder and if you think I gave a fuck about playing who won the soccer game against Oak Hills or if they were goin to play Cleve St Igs in the state championships, you don't fuckin know me at all. My shit was much bigger and when I went to school, I was just Ren of the punk.

Any fuckin way. Key was with the lame ass school shit, but on the side, somehow, the freak found some demons, I'm guessin at one of his gay freak clubs or whatever the hell, and was blackmailing them. Now if you think that's the dumbest piece of shit thing to do, you'd be close. Hell I'm guessing Key had his head so far up his self induced drama ass that he had no idea that Macbeth freak was a demon. I only knew because I was doing the GKI shit on the side, and the second the Shakespearean quoting lunatic freak showed up in my city, Kennie paged me about eight thousand times with the intel. Hello babe, am I the goddamn knight, no, the fuck, I am not.

So Key, he's all up in this Macbeth's business. And guess what, it got his sister killed.

The snow....the snow was covered in blood spatter, everywhere, there was so much blood, that the snow didn't really crunch under your feet, the way it's supposed to....

and Kara

Then that dick Kiel left town. Just left, took off, didn't even go to her fuckin funeral. Hasn't even been to her grave.

I took off two days after Kara's funeral. When it became apparent that The Boyfriend was going to take the blame. No thanks, not going to catch me in prison. I had far too much in my life to hide, no way the fuck I was letting the cops dig around in that shit.

Made a deal with Jordan Reece, bam, record wiped clean, all memory of my existance in the eyes of the government - gone.

So like I said, I've been looking for the asshole. It's Key's fault Kara is dead, right? Jerk couldn't even be bothered to see his twin sister buried before he took off for the land of gay freaks and half animal creepy shit.

Finally found him a week ago. He's been travelling with an unclassified unknown Vampire, which is what's been making him so hard to track. Never in one city for more than two weeks. But they slipped up in Northern Kentucky. Oddly enough, close to home for Key. Some chick gave Key's real name as "acceptable to rent on my account" at a Blockbuster Video. Blade, Buffy the Vampire Slayer Season Seven, and Chicago. Yeah Key, I know which of those was yours.

Got there a day too late, but caught up with them in the Philly airport. Why the hell they flew out of Philly, which isn't even close to being on the WAY to Colorado, I'm of no clue, babe. Followed for a few more days, now here I am freezing my ass off at the goddamn North Pole.

Cowboy asked if I was going skiing while I'm here. Like hello dude, if I wanted to kill myself I'd crank up the Alanis and throw myself off a cliff. Ok bad analogy since he's done that.

I went in there, ready to do everything but kill him.

I don't kill, not any more. Not even Key, who I hate more than anything. Least of all Key. Like I want that freak in the Great Beyond, hangin with Karie? FUCK THAT. And don't even fucking start on the Key's gay so he's not getting into Heaven anyway. Bein gay's the least of his problems, or mine, and I guarantee if you took a look at your own life, you'd see a great deal of shit you oughta be worrying about besides my- how the FUCK did I get on THIS subject babe.

Had my long range shit, stashed outside, in the woods here and there, in case he took off at a run. Crossbows, both longbows. Nitro tipped arrows, silver plated arrows, and two special, solid silver arrows, now let me tell you that those are an extreme bitch to make fly.

Had traps set, outside his house. Now I'm not that stupid loser from that TV show my ghost Freddy watches, so I don't know Jack about digging holes for traps and setting nets, or whatever the hell. I DO know, oh sorry , moving on. Not supposed to mention the big black cat on the ground who's snarling at me, but he's supposed to be out keeping the world safe, so go put on your superman cape, Krypto the wonder cat, and get fuckin to it. (Cruz)

Inside, I had knives. Oh, babe, you know I had the knives. Spelled ones, silver ones, one i stole straight from Lord Reece, that supposedly is coated in that shit that makes the vamps sneeze, just in case. Throwing stars, a couple other things I got from Bors that have no name. The only two guns I'll ever hold again- Kane's nitro ones. Specially designed to fire bullets that bleed liquid nitro. Don't ask me how the fuck they managed that one, I'm the techie, not the - well, ok, technically I'm a magician, if Mystick blood counts as that.

No clue what I thought I was gonna do with the Nitro guns.

As it turns out, I didn't have a chance, anyway.

I walked in, he had some rap shit turned up so loud that the support beams were shaking. I could feel my heart about exploding in my chest. It was the warding spell that gave me away.

He came at me in one swift move- turn and fly through the air, a kick, and I went down. Headlong into the stereo, next thing you know I'm hearing double. Linkin Park in my head, and some godawful rap song stuck on repeat.

He sort of, pounced, to his feet. I was far less graceful, too busy being fucking pissed that he got the better of me five seconds into the room.

He stared at me, waiting for me to move. That's Key. Always jumping right in, then he gets there, and doesn't know what to do with it. Suppose that makes him a good lapdog for the vampire dude, whatever.

I turned, clutching my stomach with one hand while I slowly got up. Was contemplating his next move when I accidentally caught his eye

Kara's

He has the same goddamn eyes, and I couldn't turn away. It was like she was there, in living, breathing color. I shook my head, trying to clear my mind, but when I blinked, she was still standing there, where Key had been.

No, it WAS Key. Key, who wanted to fight, but wasn't going to fight back, if that made any sense at all. So, we went at it, for about an hour.

Kiel's physical strength. All that working out will do that, I guess, I don't have that kind of time. Apparently, whatever paranormal whatever he is, has only increased that. Dude can bench a car, pretty goddamn sure. Scary thought when even some of Jordan's people can't do that. What can I say babe, this is real life not some fuckin comic book existance.

He's also got the grace of whatever it is that makes him part tiger.

Then there's Ren Evers, and his Green Lantern Ring of power. My mother was a Mystick, but there were other things in her past. Gargoyles, Goblins.... dark magic. So instead of being able to call water or fire, or all that other weird shit, I can throw shadows into form. Which, by the way, I can then use to delve into.....well its pretty damn freaky. Souls and spirits shit.

Scares Key all to hell.

I let him throw me around, because yeah, I know where I can't compete. Did my routine and got in a few good shots. We've danced this dance before, Key and I, so I wasn't too worried.

I know how it ends.

One shot too many to my lungs and I'm out of air. I turn, throwing my hand up at him, and a shadow knocks him back.
So quick he has no time to react, no time to even breathe, I'm there. Shadow wrapped around his chest, where his heart is, should be.

Threads of shadow, wrapping themselves into Key's aura, into his soul, like a virus that's already taken over. My mind dove in, grabbing all of it- everything- twisting it to my advantage, making him scream, forcing him to remember every last thing he'd ever been afraid of.

I'm not sure how long he sat there, crying his sister's name, before I stopped.

"Well," he said, sneering at me, "what the hell are you waiting for, Ren? Get it over with, it's why you came we both know it. You want me dead, now's your chance." And on it went but babe I didn't really hear much of it.

I laughed, and Key actually closed his eyes. He thought I got the better of him, which suppose I did, come to think. Those eyes- Kara's eyes-

Shook my head to clear it. That was ten hours ago, and we're still in the basement, talking. You could say we came to a brilliant vein of reasoning. That's a whole other story though, just thought I'd explain why Key and I are getting along, for now.

If anyone has reports of seeing a lunatic who smokes, drinks, and quotes endless amounts of Shakespeare, call me . Don't try to kill the demon yourself.

My head is swimming, from searching for this thing. Key goes out and beats people up over the information. I charm it out of them, con it out of them, or hack my way into the knowledge.

Now go pick someone elses goddamn brain. I'm stuck in a house with a gay tiger and his gay vampire boyfriend who is so busy mooning over some OTHER dude, Key is starting to get testy.

Do I look like a girl, man. I do not serve up psychoanalysis for the challenged. Don't want to hear that, so I'm out.

Everyone go turn on the Zeppelin and leave me alone. We all know who won this round, Kiel Delvariann. Oh yeah and hey, George Clooney you antichrist mother. Quit fuckin with my system! The power goddamn well better not go out unless *I* say so, got it freak ?

*stalks off grumbling about the ghosts in his own castle who won't leave him alone*

2005-04-24T00:57:00.000-04:00

Somewhere deep in the attic of the church, I'm lying on the floor. Broken and mute as the dragon continues to pile more and more blankets on top of me. Be nice to him; he's trying to help. Blankets are good for helping. And the dragon is cute so we mostly let him do whatever he wants. It's better than when the nightmares hit him and the entire building shakes with the screeching sound of him wailing in his sleep.

Gabriel says nothing; he won't look at me. He writes Angelic runes in his books growing more and more distant every day. And yes I'm worried.

We haven't seen Satarel for days. He hasn't come back, not even to check on the dragon. Don't get me wrong, we don't mind dragonsitting mister Noah Gradey. But the fact that Barnaby has left us high and dry without so much as an informational guide to what you're supposed to feed a dragon (I mean come on... toffee chips can't be ALL his diet requires...right??) Well, it can't be good is all I'm saying.

I'm getting side tracked as always. Rhamiel says its because I'm avoiding the issue. Rhami's the one hidden under the blankets trying to get warm, like me, and failing. He of all of them, understands best why I live in another world most of the time. Another world of butterfly faery wings, demon killing Knights, Doyles in shadows, slightly skewed fairy tales, and a Ren who is constantly singing.

Even when the music runs out.

When the music runs out, it means I've lost my way and can't get back to the attic to the comfort of sunlight shining in through the stained glass window. Or, it means I'm in so deep I can't see my way back to the surface.

Sometimes I lie on the floor, huddled under the angel wings of my muse, and I see nothing but the Never.

I can tell you the life story of Robert Aaron Myers, in many forms. But I can't tell you what's going on in the world around me. Not that one, any way.

Ask me what book the Dragon reads tonight or how Roxy likes working in the video store. Ask me what knights are currently out on patrol or why Mouse is wearing a crazy ass pirate costume. I've you live partially in your imagination, I can enchant you for hours.

Now ask me about the Other. I can't even tell you what I saw on the news tonight. Bad traffic, cold weather, not very big crowds for Thunder. That's all I got.

Thunder, is the big 'fireworks on the river' annual drama here in Louvull. Like Riverfest in Cincy. Here it marks the beginning of Derby season, which after four years I still only partially get.

Anyway. Earlier tonight there were planes flying overhead. F16s and a couple B2 somethings at the airport, so says the Starman of the knows one from the other. I didn't see it and Damian, my Navy boy, wasn't in residence to explain it all. Then later, fireworks. The dragon was scared shitless is the whole point of me yammering about OTHER crap again. We thought we lost him until I found him in the back of my closet hiding under piles of clothes my mom gave me, that haven't found their way to the Salvation Army or Goodwill yet.

Anyway. I was saying. Poor Noble, mister Noah Gradey as we now are to understand is his real name, came out of hiding when I showed up in the attic on the floor, flailing between realities again. Gradually, he opens up more and more to us, though he still refuses to have anything to do with Mr. Jack our 30 pound cat.

So I'm probably not making any sense. You're wondering as to the point of this. So am I. It's just a passing note. The reality my Muses stem from flashes in and out of my mind- a composite of many realms. Trying to keep it all straight and me sane is not an easy feat.

Some days, the Soccer Moms of the world get the best of me.

Today? The dragon won.

Now I know what you're thinking. What's with the armor? Dragons are in no need of armor, or so I thought. So Nicodemus tells me, any way. Oops, maybe I wasn't supposed to say- I'm being told to shut up now. Anyway.

We don't know why he's wearing armor, I suspect it was some time ago. Several generations before my time, to say the least.

Now thanks to this song, the dragon, and Rhamiel, I have a floor full of flowers made out of construction paper and tissue paper butterflies hanging from the ceiling.

It's Saturday night in Louisville. We're going to stay in the Never for just a bit longer. Goodnight, everyone.

I linger in the doorway,
Of alarm clock screaming monsters calling my name,
Let me stay, where the wind will whisper to me,
Where the raindrops, as they're falling, tell a story.

In my field of paper flowers,
And candy clouds of lullaby.
I lie inside myself for hours,
And watch my purple sky fly over me.

Don't say I'm out of touch,
With this rampant choas - Your reality.
I know what lies beyond my sleeping refuge,
The nightmare, I built my own world to escape.

In my field of paper flowers,
And candy clouds of lullaby.
I lie inside myself for hours,
And watch my purple sky fly over me.

Swallowed up in the sound of my screaming,
Cannot cease for the fear of silent nights.
Oh how I long for that deep-sleep dreaming,
The goddess of imaginary light.

In my field of paper flowers,
And candy clouds of lullaby.
I lie inside myself for hours,
And watch my purple sky fly over me.

my imaginary by Evanescence

**side note: the me in the church attic with the muses, is NOT the ME in real life. I love my life my cats my husband hell even my job. When I'm not frustrated from lack of writing time. I can't explain the transformation; just don't analyze me lest ye be analyzed and criticized right back. Hugs.

Dream 4/3/5

2005-04-03T13:49:00.000-04:00

If anyone understands this, please contact Parker Murdock

I've had this dream a couple times now, but this morning is the first time I've slept in long enough to mull it out and keep it in my head. Wether this is my world, or my subconious trying to tell me something, I don't know. The only thing from my world I've been musing on lately is DL and Alex, and while both of them are dark, neither claims any knowledge of anything like this. Remind me to introduce DL later.

It’s a prison planet, or some kind of hell dimension…. Something dark with some important purpose that I cannot quite see. It involves more than just our world, or, that is, the part of our world that we can see. There are humans there, I’m fairly certain, but for the most part when you look briefly sweeping through the whole of it, you see the creatures.

From the outside, the building is huge. So big that you have to wonder if it’s a ‘building’ at all; it looks man made as opposed to organic but the sheer size of it implies that it was thrust out of the ground itself. Millions of stories tall. The higher up it goes, the building slopes inward… never quite reaching a point.

Inside the building is some gigantic wheel that cannot be seen. It’s purpose is unknown. All you can see are the creatures guiding it, keeping it moving. Things with horns, different colors, but what stood out to me were the large, elephant type creatures. Were they sentient beings, or work animals? The elephants I mean? I don’t know. I know for sure the bulk of those running the wheel were sentient. I don’t know if there were any work animals there, at all.

Somewhere in all this, I’m talking to a man. I can’t remember what about. I don’tknow who he was. Easily he could look like Browder, be Parker… or someone else entirely. All I remember was staring at his arms while he talked. Solid muscle, very strong. From turning the wheel, perhaps. I also got the impression that he was in charge of all this, directed it somehow.

At the end, we were outside again. Thousands of creatures… beings… roaming about on the ground outside the Building. Some in the air. I heard the sound of the Stargate music, clear as anything, playing, and looked up into the sky.

There was a dragon there, clutching in his claws a chain of thorny rope. Not rope, some kind of vine, with thorns on it everywhere. And another man, in the sky… who I could not see at all. The dragon came along and dropped the vine with the thorns, draping it on the man’s shoulders.

And I woke up. Why can’t my dreams ever make sense?

Fallen from Grace

2005-03-19T18:06:00.000-05:00

This song? Is kicking my ASS. I've heard it a thousand times or more. Hell. EVERYONE uses this song at some point or another. The mood of the whole Evanescence CD moves me to write. I mused up Carter with this on instant replay. This song is my favorite, it's so hauntingly beautiful. Every time I listened to it, I'd hear snippets of this character or that from books or things I've written...things others have written.

Music has always been my muse. Just ask Ren, or Cait or Eva and they'll all tell you some days the muse kicks your ass until you find exactly the right song to groove to while you write. But this is the first time that a song actually moved me to tears because the muse hit so hard.

I've known Gabriel for a while now. He crosses through my mind occasionally, hidden behind robes with only the barest of hints that he's an Angel fallen from Heaven. Then a couple days ago I had a rather creepy experience, the result of which is that I found Rhamiel.
I'd share the story but it loses something in the translation. Suffice it to say when you see the picture I use for Rham, look in the background; I swear I didn't see that when I first found this picture and went hey, hmm... so you're the one who comes with Gabriel.

So without further ado, let me introduce these two because I need to get them out of my system.

Gabriel. http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v470/FaeryJayde/CJ%20Angels/Gabriel.jpg

Yeah, it's the guy from Lost. Sometimes the muse is it's own face and that's enough. Most of the time at least for me, I watch something in a movie, on TV, someone walking down the street and out of nowhere get hit with some idea of a muse. It was that way with this guy. One minute I was watching Lost, the next minute we had Gabriel in a dark hooded robe telling me he was a fallen angel.

Not THE Gabriel that you read about in the Bible. But he is an Angel, or was...depending on your interpretation. Please do me a favor right now if you're Catholic or more religious than I am. Don't try to connect the dots too closely. I'm doing Angel research but remember this is CJ' s world.

Keep in mind I'm only framing this story for you people. I have the barest of sketches in mind and am only blogging it because.... well, I sort of have to get it out there.

There came a time many thousands of years ago, when the angel Gabriel became disenchanted with God. A very powerful demon was granted access to stay on Earth instead of being banished to Hell. Basically getting free reign to wreak havoc on the entire human race until the end of all things. Gabriel grew increasingly frustrated watching. His requests to do something were left unanswered.

One day, he took a swan dive out of Heaven basically, and has been walking the Earth ever since. Enter in Ra, Neptune and Puck along with the creation of the entire Mystic race.

The problem was; Gabriel had no real idea what he was getting himself in for when he left. Excommunicated from Heaven and you can't go back. I can't fully put into words yet the torment that was involved. The mood is there and the idea of it in my mind. I've erased this paragraph several times now trying to get it right.

So let's skip to Rham for a minute. Rhamiel. http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v470/FaeryJayde/CJ%20Angels/Rhamiel.jpg

Rhamiel: empathy, kindness, mercy, love, protection, and compassion.

Rham was always a bit taken with Gabriel. Gabriel's torment yanked on Rham's empathy until it almost broke him.

Rham went to God. PLEADING. Please, can I help him... I can help him... he's so alone down there, he didn't know, he didn't know what it would be like, can't you see he was only trying to help them. He sacrificed so much to fight for your children, as he always has.

And the voice in the background. The Voice, saying no. He is as he always was, Gabriel merely chose to leave.

The Voice said NO, but Rhamiel could not leave it alone. He couldn't help reaching out a hand...

and it was like a warm hand, a loud, otherworldly song. For the briefest of moments, it connected Gabriel to Home.

Skip ahead to now. Why? Because the in between is a large portion that's still tooling in my head, hazy at the moment.

If Humans are made of Earth, and the Djinn who play a part in my world are made up of fire... Angels are made of light. Picture a body as the shell, and instead of organic anything inside, you have the white light of Heaven. To look at Gabriel is to go blind. The white light fills you up from the inside out with just a glance. Singing through your blood like a thousand angels in chorus from Heaven. Except it burns its way through you along the way. It is rare that a human being can see this and survive; which is why Gabriel hides in robes all the time. His wings are amazing. narrow at the back and all white feather, softer than anything you'll ever know, flowing from his back and trailing behind him. Currently Gabriel is sprawled out on my living room floor writing in some old runeish looking language I can't decipher, and his wings are sprawled out all over the place. It's gorgeous, but a bitch on the vaccum cleaner.

Rhamiel on the other hand has no wings. They were ripped from his back when he was kicked out of Heaven. The wound on his back is atrocious. Occasionally it bleeds, but not always. The stigmata on Rham's hands is constant. The guys have informed me it's meant as a reminder for Rham. This too bleeds, again not all the time. Occasionally when you look into Rham's eyes, you see that white light-- dimmed to an almost human level, so that it appears much like some fancy scifi effect on a movie. The light fades, and fades... and when it's almost gone, Rham lies mostly comatose.

Angels are beings made of Light, you see. Rham has none of his own any more. It was taken from him, like the wings. He would have died a mortal human life thousands of years ago.

A shuffle of wings, a stack of yellowed parchment being set aside. Gabriel goes to the couch behind him, lying a hand half in Rham's messy blonde hair. He leans forward... a part of the lips, the kiss of Angels. After a moment or two unmeasured, eyes open. Looking up out of impossibly blue eyes that turn to ice, then sing with that same light you'll see in Gabriel's, Rham tries to hold the moment. He wants nothing more than to lift a sluggish arm, pull Gabriel down. Not because he's desperate to know what Heaven feels like again. He, unlike Gabriel, knew what he was getting into when they pulled out his wings. He'd been feeling the loss through Gabriel for years.

Simply because his heart, if there is one, beats with a pulse of light for this man... the Angel.

A shuffle of wings, and a cracked heart. Gabriel goes back to his work and Rham curls up on the sofa. His back is bleeding again. He pulls his legs up to his chest, hugging them close, absently petting the bit of wing that's stretched out over the back of the couch.

Now, listen to the song. For those of you who don't know me or don't know me well enough to know better. This isn't some political agenda. I asked the boys, why Rham's heart loves the way it does. Rham didn't respond, he just gave me a look. God is Love, even if we don't understand the sometimes harsh reality of it. And this is mine. And The he goes back to watching Gabriel, with an expression in his eyes that absolutely breaks my heart.

Like I said, I was crying when I realized all this. At work, no less.

"My Immortal"

I'm so tired of being here
Suppressed by all my childish fears
And if you have to leave
I wish that you would just leave
'Cause your presence still lingers here
And it won't leave me alone

These wounds won't seem to heal
This pain is just too real
There's just too much that time cannot erase

When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears
And I held your hand through all of these years
But you still have
All of me

You used to captivate me
By your resonating light
Now I'm bound by the life you left behind
Your face it haunts
My once pleasant dreams
Your voice it chased away
All the sanity in me

These wounds won't seem to heal
This pain is just too real
There's just too much that time cannot erase

When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears
And I held your hand through all of these years
But you still have
All of me

I've tried so hard to tell myself that you're gone
But though you're still with me
I've been alone all along

When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears
And I held your hand through all of these years
But you still have
All of me

2005-03-15T16:41:00.000-05:00

Ok I admit it, I'm frustrated. For as awesome musing I got last week, this one is starting to suck rotten eggs. Not really, but today at least. I skipped going in to work on my day off to stay home because I KNEW I had fun shit I was going to write.

Plus, it's mostly Kurt's fault. I woke up at ten and had him in my head going no way baby, you're allowed to sleep longer. So I stretched like a cat, wrapped up in boatloads of snuggly blanket and mused him up rubbing the tension out of my body. Kurt seems to think Tuesday is his day to bug me, or something.

I know what I need. I need a room where there is no laundry or dishes or cleaning to be done. No cats of the cuteness meowing and all with the antics. Just me and my muses trying to get on paper the ideas that float around in my head all day when I'm working twelve hours at Graeter's frustrated that I can't be writing.

I spend all day at work, wishing like hell I could be at home writing full time. Then I get a day off, and it's totally wasted. Jason's got me watching a DVD that's really cute and funny but about four hours ago, I had the voice of Loki in my head bugging the living HELL out of Damian. And I just know it would have been brilliant. I left him hanging yesterday morning, being a total 22 year old, freaking out. And I could see that place of his in Alaska where he goes to shut out the Loki when the insanity gets to be too much. Well, used to.

I know, I know. Who's Damian and what's he got to do with Loki. Like everything I write, it's complicated. Some people IRL find out I kick around with writing and go OH, what do you write? With that half interested caring way when someone talks about their passion but it's not yours so you can't get excited about it. Stammer stammer, mumble something incoherent about knights and vampires and they think I'm a total freak. Which btw Dame says I am, so it's all even. And heaven help me if I have to explain Ren or Joey.

So let me make it real simple. LIke any one gives a god damn or bothers to read this except people who already know Ren and Joey quite well. Here's me saying fuck you and the damn horse you rode in on for not caring that after thirty years, I found something that makes me happy, that's all me.

Jason wants to know why I don't write something that could be sold, instead of RP all the time. Hello, it's called process. I've got a long way to go before my world is ready for the general public, if ever. That isn't why I started writing any damn way. I write because i have to. I can't just go back to ho hum colleen of the doesn't hear voices. I can't slam the door to the Muse house shut without knowing how Kurt meets Kaelandra, what the fuck happens in THAT scenario. Does Tucker ever actually kill Aden or was that some muse trick. Is anyone ever going to figure out that Tucker Murdock Senior, the senator, Parker's FAther! Is... well, that would be spoiling it, but let's just say he's an old nemesis of Lucien's brother Robin.

Yes, I write about Arthurian Legend and you can kiss my ass, Ok you can kiss KURTS ass, if you don't like the fact that I took bits and pieces and twisted them into something I love.

I'm sorry that I can't see "Lancelot" and not see a perverted very sexually oriented Fae, sometimes with wings, sometimes with fangs, most of the god damn time with candy. Who also happens to be a knight and goes around doing his part at saving the world on a daily basis.

Wait, no I'm the fuck not sorry.

I'm also not sorry that Arthur, correct that again Lucien Arthur, is biker badass of the Godsmack Metallica mentality.

And I'll never apologize for turning the whole Mordred story into a brooding sorcerer with fangs, who spends all his time in the ocean surfing. Trying to avoid the entire world because he figures he's pretty much at fault for every damn thing.

If you think I spend too much time on line, playing at characters instead of dealing with real life, or whatever, it's because you're a muggle. Yes, a muggle. I try to explain this a lot, but if you don't have an imagination as complicated and whacked out as mine, you'll never understand. Go find whatever it is that muses YOU.

Just don't be suprised if my eyes start to glaze over mid way through. The asshole that is Damian wants me to say, it's because we're bored with whatever lame crap you want us to be interested in. You couldn't possibly comprehend what's REALLY cool. I want to argue and tell him to be nice, but the mood I'm in today.. Besides. He's got the voice of insanity in his head, 24/7.

Some days, I know exactly how that feels. God, I just wish there was a fucking button you could punch to turn it the fuck on.

Yes, we're still here, all of us.

2005-03-12T09:47:00.000-05:00

OK Cait, you got me going. You got me writing in this damn thing again after what, three months hiatus? But, is good to know I send this thing out into the void and it doesn't just keep going on into infinity. It actually makes at least one stop along the way.

Browder and D of course want to stop me right there and start being all with the chatty cathies about Infinity and who THAT is. Let me tell you folks when you already have a Chaos, a Destiny, and a Time. Do you really need Infi too? Umm no.

Besides this week we have Kaelandra Rose of the not impressed with Kurt but totally cute anyway.

If someone can hide this woman away from Kurt for a few hours today while I get her voice straight in my head, I'd be incredibly grateful. Already the two of them are cute as hell.

We also have the damn genie who is running around, unbeknownst to my knights at GKI's new LA branch in the Avalon Hotel. Yes, there really is a hotel with that name. In CJ land, Blackheart bought it and now it's where Jordan stashes Kurt, Nico of the silence, and Cowboy of the always having twins stashed away and bomb fuses lit.

Who else is new? As always the Daniel Jackson muse of the blue robes and the flag, who sits nearby with this ancient look in his eyes. With his head in his hands going, 'can you REALLY be that stupid?'. So still no clue who HE is, folks.

And Gwenn, of the hat and the scarves. Found my Gwennwyfar AND figured out who my Lancelot is, in the same week. How's that for grand musing?

Everyone's doing King Arthur now. I don't know if that makes me happy or sad. Since I know I'm not going to see Kurt in any of their Lancelot's, it currently pisses me off. I don't want anyone else trying to write my babies away from me. Sherrilyn Kenyon has some Avalon/Camelot thing, that when you go to her site the ad for it blinks at you ad nauseum shoving the NOT ARTHUR and camelot and sword in the stone mythology in your face. All I can hear when I see that is when I met her, and she laughed at the idea of Arthurian legend in vampire mythology. It pissed me off and still does, but I understand. Once you have these people in your head, for someone else to come along and say OK, here's my version, is hard to stomach.

Then on Stargate which I LOVE! Ben Browder is coming and OK can we say I'm going to be be having a major cow with the BB and Daniel on the same fargin show. Laughing my ASS off. But next season they're tying in Arthurian Legend. I LOVE that show but look what they did to Norse Mythology. Ra, Anubis, etc, Camulus I can handle the Goauld thing. Thor is an alien though.... So it's a constant battle with Parker shoving his glasses up on his nose and going "Ok, we've been through this already. Those muggle ideas about Arthurian legend are just that. Legends. Other people making up stories based on things they heard about us that aren't true."

Then he goes back to reading some book in Latin on Roman gods and leaves me hanging again.

It's time for me to go to work now. I have a love/hate affair with my job. I love my bosses, love my store, love the product. Hell we all know how I feel about chocolate and Black Raz. Just listen to the muses if you don't. But it takes me away from writing.

The sun is shining and the cats are happy. I'm sure that if I had four hours of complete silence. I'd have something completely brilliant to throw out there.... all with the cuteness that is going to be my Lancelot and Kaelandra .

Whatever you do, don't tell Kurt. Shhh, is a suprise. And don't tell Kael that the scruffy looking man with candy she just shoved out of her way and told off, has wings. She's got Kane's ax and I'm slightly afraid what she'll do with it.

Because as soon as I say no, Kurt doesn't have wings he's not THAT kind of Fae, he goes and sprouts them and now I have to look at THAT all damn day.

JOEY, bless his punk ass heart, is laughing his ASS off. PUNK.

Good god for those of you who know Kurt, what the FARGIN HELL am I supposed to do with a Kurt with wings. Its... worse than the other day. Is all I'm saying.

For the rest of you doign the scrolly over and getting only his tag on the sidebar there... *blush* don't read too much into it. It's all him and not me, I swear.

And I thought yesterday Gabriel of the Angel of the Cristian/Boone was bad enough. All throwing off the robe and showing me HIS wings, angel wings. Which once you get past the blinded part, the light is sort of like being kissed inside and out by something... beyond graceful, most ethereal, and highly otherworldly. To say the VERY least. But now I understand the whole robe thing, feel free to put that shit back on Gabriel because we aren't ready for fallen angels who got pissed at God for letting the Djinn and Arawn stay on Earth to torment humans. Yet.

Now everyone go crank up the Zeppelin and let me be. It's a snowy saturday, Basketball on TV all damn day. That should be good for quiet musing time at work for a couple hours, at least.

just your everyday average meltdown

2004-12-29T01:59:00.000-05:00

THE THING I LOVE MOST ABOUT LINKIN PARK is, whatever bad mood I'm in, they've got a song that fits it perfectly.

Carter will always be Evanescence. Lucien will always be an odd mixture of Godsmack, Enya, and Metallica. Ren is Eve 6. Rhys is Ozzy. Neen and Jude dance to the sound of rain on the roof in the springtime, during tornado season. Sarah dances alone to Mandy Moore in her apartment when she thinks her muse Rhys isn't paying attention. Joey, in all his punkness, is Sarah McLachlan in many ways. Parker is a little Bon Jovi, a little 3 Doors Down, a little Stargate music thrown in for good measure, with a dose of 'huh?' because Parker, he doesn't listen to music.

But they all, at one point or another, turn on the Linkin Park to yell, and scream, or just shout at the world HEY I'M HERE, pay attention, because I've got a story you wouldn't fucking believe.

I've been rereading things lately, that I wrote once upon a time before there was Ren defined, before Aspen met the Voice, back when Kiel was something else entirely and it was just me pacing the room, with the Evanescence on instant replay and the Starman in the other room probably wondering if I was going insane or acutually doing something productive for once.

Lucien strolling into that biker bar looking for a fight, with Joey and Parker tagging along to interrogate him about Ellie.

Neen in the tornado, with the big blue question mark dude. God I love that opening scene.

Carter's history. I'd forgotten it was documented, but I found it on the laptop. So bad do I want to post that, not that anyone cares, but it's still steeped too closely in Arthurian legend, need to rework it, and I love that Carter is this big mystery, for now. Explain where he comes from, and it takes away some of the why Joey et al think he's such a creepy dude. Well, maybe it does.

Jordan and Seph in Underworld, such a heady lusty rush I had to put it down and go wait, was this ME writing this? Oh, wait, yeah, then had to set it down again before I got lost in THAT tangent again.

Blackheart at the plaza, with Suz in the window. Another great one, that I wish like hell I could figure out where to go with it. Aaron, if you're listening, have your people call my people; we need to do lunch and map out a plan. Maybe Sunday, maybe Monday, maybe not...

None of this is making any sense to anyone, I know. Why? Because I keep most of it locked in my head or on my laptop. Safer that way. What do you say in thirty seconds or less to capture someone's interest when they casually ask, "Ren who?" or catch me speaking Jack&Ryan.

Somedays, I just want to shout to the world, HEY YOU STUPID FUCKS! I've got this amazing fucking world in my head if anyone cares! So many characters, so much that's going to happen, so much insane, complicated, CJ craziness. And the way it all slowly builds off of each other, coming together towards the big finish that I can sort of see...

God I fucking LOVE writing. Even when it's just me and Joey sitting on the couch reading what I wrote, wondering what we did wrong, I love it.

Someday, I'm going to find out why Blackheart's company fired Suz, what happens when everyone figures out whose son Kyle Murdock REALLY is, and wether or not Aden Andrews is going to come back from the dead. Maybe Neen's blue dude will always remain a mystery, but Kennie's going over the list of possibilities with Ren on the phone as we speak. No, not THAT Kennie and not THAT Ren. I'm talking about the real ones, the ones who came first and live in the world that maybe only I understand.

In the mean time, I stumble off to bed.

Shakespeare said it best :
The man that hath no music in himself,
Nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds,
Is fit for treasons, stratagems, and spoils;
The motions of his spirit are dull as night,
And his affections dark as Erebus:
Let no such man be trusted. Mark the music

And so, I stumble off to bed to sleep, perchance to dream, taking with me the angry voices I love to sing and shout to:

I got a
Heart full of pain/head full of stress
Handful of anger/held in my chest
And everythings left is a waste of time
I hate my rhymes
(But hate everyone else's more)
I'm riding on the back of this pressure
Guessing that it's better
I can't keep myself together
Because all of this stress
Gave me something to write on
The pain gave me something
I could set my sights on
You never forget the blood, sweat, and tears
The uphill struggle over the years
The fear and trash talking
And the peopleit was to
And the people that started it
Just like you

where the crypt doors creak and the tombstones quake

2004-10-30T01:35:00.000-04:00

Happy Halloween, dudes.
I'm stuck in a city that doesn't seem to appreciate it.

Then, maybe for me, Halloween will always be the old house on Surrey with the gang. Susan, Kris and I going all the way from Bridgetown Road to Lawrence, or trying to. Stopping down at LaRosas and the pony keg to see if they had any treats. Stopping at the Dairy Farmers for a free ice cream.

That guy on Childs who used to wear this white thing, and just chase people out of his yard without so much as a pencil. The people Angie and Brian knew, but I didn't, who passed out carmel corn homemade things, and I threw mine away because I was sure there was something nasty hidden in it.

Marcie and Marie, with thier bags of candy and dollars for all of us, even Susan and Kris, who they saw maybe once every Halloween.

The people who used to decorate their whole house for halloween. One time the woman there read my palm. She made all these noises about how wierd it was. At the time I was all embarrased. Why couldn't she have just said, "You're very creative and should be a writer".

Those people on Karen. One of them worked for Kahns. Every year, and I mean EVERY YEAR without fail, even after I was grown up and moved away. Every year they brought out this big ass grill and grilled hot dogs for the whole neighborhood. Free. For Halloween. With Coffee for the parents, too.

Good god, I miss that. One of my favorite memories- walking around on Halloween night. Susan and Kris and I got back first, no matter what. Hours later Kraig and Steve would come back with huge pillowcases full of stuff, and we never figured out how they managed to get so much candy.

I've always liked walking at night. You don't have to tell me it's not safe anymore, I know. There's something so magickal about Halloween at night though. I just love it.

It's not the same here, though. Almost like it's not really Halloween at all, if we're not at my old house, in the old neighborhood, with the old friends.

Things change, and some memories you can never get back. But I'll never forget the first time I saw Nightmare on Elm Street. It was another Halloween night. After we got back to the house and us kids were in the den, watching horror movies on TV. The moms and Grandmas were in the living room, talking. Know the scene where she's on the phone, with the tounge? Susan screemed bloody murder to wake the dead. I think my grandma almost had a heart attack at that. After that we were told to turn the TV off. I still love horror movies though. Shocking, I know.

I was a witch more times than I can remember. Cinderella. A cowgirl. A gypsy. And yes, I was even Smurfette. My mother has all the blackmail pictures, so don't look at me.

My favorite of course was Wonder Woman. I had my own WW bracelets. The costume was plastic and came in one of those boxes. Those plastic costumes in the box were the fucking SHIT. And another thing about being WW? It was ass freezing cold that year, kids. And mom made me wear my winter coat.

Wonder Woman doesn't do the whole Coat thing, though. So 'Wonder Woman' was allowed to wear her coat UNDER the costume. The plastic costume with flesh toned legs and arms, since all WW wears is a bathing suit. And if that's not screwy, I dunno what is.

I spend a lot of time dwelling on nostalgia, and memories, and moments in time that are lost forever, that I'll never get back. Every so often, it makes me a little sad. When I'm gone, who will remember those hot dogs on Karen, or the feeling of Halloween night back when it was actually held on Halloween, when people actually all passed out candy?

I'm all dressed up with nowhere to go
Walkin' with a dead man over my shoulder

Waiting for an invitation to arrive
Goin' to a party where no one's still alive

I was struck by lighting
Walkin' down the street
I was hit by something last night in my sleep
It's a dead man's party
Who could ask for more
Everybody's comin', leave your body at the door
Leave your body and soul at the door . . .
(don't run away it's only me)

All dressed up with nowhere to go
Walkin' with a dead man
Waitin' for an invitation to arrive
With a dead man . . . dead man . . .

Got my best suit and my tie
Shiny silver dollar on either eye
I hear the chauffeur comin' to the door
Says there's room for maybe just one more . . .

Don't run away it's only me
Don't be afraid of what you can't see
Don't run away it's only me . .

Kiel, What the FUCK???// miami, part 2

2004-10-21T19:37:00.000-04:00

Kiel, BABE. I know it's not your job to take care of everyone, but what is going ON up there??

I was all about the rooting for the underdog in the Series the second the Yanks lost. But I'm on vacation, and I haven't been paying attention to the outside world, not really. Only the voices in my head, and otherwise.

I come back from Bagel&Deli with dinner and a Frosty~ gotta have my chocolate fix, even up here where they think ice cream is Cold Stone Crap.... and turn on the TV in anticipation of watching hopefully Sunday's eppysode of the Wire.

For some shitty reason, this hotel TV always pulls up with the CNN when you turn it on.

People are rioting and KILLING each other over your baseball team, Kiel. What the FUCK is up with that?? I can hear Lucien in the background, right now, for once in his life acting like he gives a damn and is in charge, telling you to get on it.

Killing and rioting over BASEBALL. When did America's pastime become violent? I thought only Pete Rose was supposed to be in charge of that. BASEBALL. At least in Cincy, they riot over racial issues, which are a problem anyway.

BASEBALL. I don't care if the antichrist Cards DO play them in the series. I'm not rooting for Boston, T. Your fans there are a little too freaky, even for me.

Miami. I am loving this vacation. Sucks to be Sherrilyn Kenyon, who got the big zip on the book signing and workshop, after driving up here from Nashville. Me, though- It was the most amazing thing. She is the most amazing, talented person. Friendly and funny and smart as hell.

Right now, the Miami part is almost done. I'm sad, a little. Not for the leaving Miami tomorrow, but for the end of my peaceful retreat. Going back to Mom's will be all with the "what do you mean you need to be on the computer/internet/read, come on i want to spend time with you".

Well Mom, I do too. Thing is though, every time I see you, you're all about the same, not understanding me or my husband at all questions. And our idea of hanging out?? Not the same. I can only take so much of the questions and annoying nagging before I go nuts. This is myvacation. Who knows when I'll get another chance like this.

I'm not getting THE writing done. Originally, I'd intended to go over Joey's stuff, do some rewrites and edits, see what I think of it after taking a long break from it. Muse about Liz, X, Sarah, R, Kennie, Jordan and everyone else, see where they take me. Get back to Illusions and see if I can make that work.

I didn't really do much of that, but I did get back into the groove of writing. A HUGE step. Thank you Ren, thank you Sin. Your voices are going to be permanently etched in my mind, I can tell, even if I never write another word for either of you. I'll never be able to say or write or hear the word 'God' again without hearing your voice, saying, yes? Thank you Shade, for just lurking in the background, the promise of a really great story if ever I get around to it. Thank you Joey, for passing the Punk reigns over to Ren, for a while. I know you're there, haven't forgotten you. He's still somewhat in hibernation, disgust for the Pod People here quite evident. Thank you Buffy, for being my comic relief, while I search for two moronic brothers lost in a sea of college chicks. Thank you Cait, just for being Cait. Very rare that I find someone who understands.

Thanks to Sherrilyn Kenyon, for sitting through a combined total of four hours with a nervous, excited, thrilled fan, and just being another cool somebody who's easy to talk to. I'll have the Graeter's ready when you stop in Lvll. You amaze me and inspire me, and never again will I be afraid of doing something I love, that makes me happy.

For all of you out there that don't get it, or don't get me? Good on you, just keep me out of it. Ren's acting like a damned softie, and hasn't bothered to put spiders in anyone's car at ALL yet. Sin needs his godlypowers or whatever back, and BTW dude, quit it with the nuclear melting of everyone's computers. Big with the getting old on that one, man.

Thank you, Miami. For reminding me of where I've been, where I was when I finally started to see who I could be. Okay, so I took a lot of stumbles along the way. But I learned something last night, and today from one of the coolest people ever. I already knew, but maybe forgot for a while. It's the little things, the little flaws, small imperfections, that make us unique, make us interesting, make us human.

Jason, I miss you. I miss your goofy grin and the holding up of the cats for me to see when I get stressed out frustrated, or just need a hug. This week has kind of been all about me, but my hear is all with the being about you.

Give me the beat, boys and free my soul, I wanna get lost in your rock n roll, and drift away...

musings from Miami, part 1

2004-10-19T15:29:00.000-04:00

Well, i'm finally on vacation. In Oxford, Ohio, where I went to college. Haven't really spent any time on campus in about ten years. So far, I'm loving it. I've got a new hotel room all to myself, with a Skyline, BW3, Brunos pizza, and Skippers pub in walking distance.

Anyone who can name this movie quote, email me and you get a hundred points, plus a pint of Graeter's next time you're in Louvull.

97X.....BAM! The future of Rocknroll....97X.....BAM! The future of Rocknroll... 97X...

Anyhow, no fair to cheaters who are from Cincy, dudes.

I love this place. Sure, part of me hated college, but I love Oxford. Hopefully, tomorrow it will be sunny and I can take some pictures. Old red brick and trees everywhere, cute little college town. Some things change, others stay the same.

Skipper's is still on the corner of Uptown. Brunos is still selling pizza, for a dollar a slice on the weekend evenings I'd bet. Phan Shin, still htere. LooneyTBird's is gone, and I have to wonder, where are these kids supposed to get their CDs from? No wonder the free pirated download people do so well.

Wild Berry is still there. Best place on earth. They make the best incense on earth, anywhere, and you can find it everywhere, too. I was in heaven, smelling it all. I love incense and never get to burn it at home, because of Jason and his allergies. So, bought five dollars worth, which is a lot. And now I smell like Dragon's Blood and Fairy Dust, whatever that is, kids, I dunno, but it smells good.

Miami is... a very different thing for me. You won't find Carter, Joey, or hell especially not Ren here. Aspen, once upon a dream, but not anymore. Ever. Parker, oh Parker would fit RIGHT in here, in his khakis and plaid shirts, all rumpled and looking like a JCrew ad that got slept in, picked up, still looks as good as when it first showed up in your mailbox. With his glasses and distraction, I think I must have been channelling a bit of Oxford when I wrote him.

Jack and Ryan. I can SO see thier stupid fool asses going from frat house to frat house, doing the godzilla and king kong thing, conning guys out of free beer and picking up on the freshman women.

Carter sits quiet, wondering where his ocean went to. Joey's pacing the room, trying to get the hell out of here and back to Zero where they know good music from bad. Ren's pissy, saying whatever you do, stay in the hotel room, don't go out or their preppiness might rub off. I haven't seen Jack and Ryan since we got here, but I'm sure they're wherever the women are, showing off and being clowns.

Some cute little college guy with a great tattoo on his arm was totally checking me out in Starbucks earlier. Me. Duh, like THAT happens everyday. Anyhow, it made me chuckle. Must have been the leather blazer.
Or, maybe, it was the fact that I was wearing it in the rain, not caring, smiling, having a grand old time just being myself, and not worrying what everyone else thinks. Not having to listen to anyone but my own muses, for a while.

I love my life, love LOVE my husband, am really lucky in all of that. And today, I'm thankful for this hotel, this laptop, HBO for free, guilty pleasures food, and Wild Berry Incense. Now, thanks to the internet, you can order it online at www.wild-berry.com

Aspen's off talking in the corner of the castle to a ghost, so I've gotta go help her out now. Stay tuned tommorrow night, for the report on the writer's workshop thing at Lane Library, with the Author Goddess herself. God, I am SO nervous.

Joey goes to Taco Hell

2004-10-15T21:51:00.000-04:00

Please, please note. The only reason I'm posting this at ALL, is that everything has been so negative lately. Stuff that's depressing and downright violent. And if I Blog today about RL, it's going to be an angry rant about my friend who was raped Tuesday, and violence, and my warring opinions on gun control.

Instead, I'm handing the Blog over to Joey, who has been itching to tell this one for a while. Next to Jack and Ryan Raven, it's probably some of the funniest stuff I've written so far. Not funny haha for everyone else, but funny for me, because it happened to us, late one night on the way home. Some of the best stuff I write comes from things that actually happened. And when I find myself in a big writer's block, it's usually because I've been sitting in front of the computer too long and not out DOING things.

Anyhow, the disclaimer. This is going to come off sounding, I'm sure, a LOT politically incorrect. Maybe racist, Gods, please don't take any of this the wrong way. The truth is, there are a lot of foriegn folks who work at the fast food joints out in Springhurst, and frequently there are those who can't speak any more English than what is required to do their job.

I'm not saying anything bad about them. I wish them well. I'm not going to say any more. If someone out there takes issue with this, especially any of my friends, please email me at arawenne@yahoo.com.

And now for a laugh, if only for my own sake, to get us back on track with the lighter, blonder, side of my psyche.

It was late Friday night when we pulled into the local Taco drive-thru. It’s very rare for Jo and I to drive anywhere, but we’d been dancing for hours and were both craving Mexican food. Apparently everyone else in the known universe had the same thought, because the line was almost out on the street when we got there. Content to talk in the car, relax for a while and listen to the stereo, we sat and waited. This is when Tad filled me in on all that had been going on with the Carter situation. A lot of it I knew already, but I got the 411 with details and Jo’s observations. We both had a good laugh over all of it.
I’m not sure when it happened, but somewhere along the line; the people that take your order in the Drive-thru forgot how to have any manners. My sister Rachel worked at the Burger King down the street from the high school when she was a teenager. She and her friends there were always so polite. Now I get stunted sentences without even a Hello. “Take your order!” replaces “welcome to taco land, can I help you?” and “upsize?”, that’s the whole sentence, replaces “will that be all?” And let us not forget my favorite, “(insert undecipherable scrambled jumble of words here) first window”.
Amazingly, we eventually made it to the “Pay” window. Having sat in the car for well over twenty minutes, we had plenty of time to get the money ready. Some foreign looking employee stood there smiling at us, saying and doing nothing else. Since I was holding the money out the window, ready for him to take, this seemed like a pretty stupid thing for him to do. Then again, I never went to the high tech world of fast food training school, so what do I know. Giving up, I asked what the total was supposed to be. I could swear he said one hundred thirteen dollars and twenty eight cents. This seemed a little high for four tacos and two Cokes, so I handed over a twenty. Finally, some progress, he took it. Instead of change, he gave me a wad of napkins and a straw. I know these items are probably priceless somewhere in the world, but here in the US, I want some George Washingtons back, at the very least. He asked a question in what I can only assume is Taco Speak. I looked at Tad, who informed me I was being asked if we needed any sauce. Promptly, the nice fellow thrust fifteen packets of hot sauce in my hands, where they joined the napkins and straws in my lap. Um, thanks mister taco dude, but I’m trying to drive here. What the hell am I supposed to do with all this shit? And besides, the guy in the Ford Explorer in front of me got all his sauces and napkins in a neat little plastic bag. Apparently, having Tad along for the ride ticked off the Taco gods or something. The car in front of us pulled away. Hallelujah, Mexican food at last, possibly made by real Mexicans! Then I remembered that I still didn’t get any change. I looked expectantly at the guy, who was still standing there smiling at us. “Um, I guess I’ll hold all this great stuff you gave me, but do you think I could get my change?” His response was friendly, and long, and not in English OR taco language. I looked at Jo, and she shrugged. The kid vanished suddenly… not Pip and he’s gone, just, ran off. Sigh. I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel, and found myself singing along through most of Zeppelin’s Immigrant Song before the kid came back with some money. Hell, I didn’t even count it at that point; I just wanted cash and food.
At the next window, the teenage boy spoke English and had our food waiting. I smiled and told him their napkin and sauce system left a lot to be desired. He saw the pile of junk in my lap and laughed good-naturedly. Apparently this was a common, but unfixable, problem- since many of the other employees don’t speak much English. We took the bag of tacos, and our cokes, and I peeled the hell out of there before anyone tried to take away our rather large stash of hot sauce. I looked at the hot sauce, and looked at Tad, raised a brow and gave her a wicked grin. She laughed and ignored me. Oh well. As we pulled out onto the street and stopped at a red light, I looked over at Tad and we both had the same thought that we shouted out loud to each other, laughing hysterically. I could tell you what it is, but then I'd have to kill you.

I know, it sounds a bit like a rant, but it makes me smile every time. Thank you, Joey. And now I must yeild the floor to Jack and Ryan, my true comedic muses. We downloaded Napster the other day, and so I'm setting about to DL the Godzilla song, because those cowboys are just so damned cute in their Godzilla and King Kong costumes. Don't ask.

carter speaks

2004-10-15T03:12:00.000-04:00

It isn't often that I feel completely helpless.

It was late, and I was out on the beach, surfing in my own private ocean. The water smells different at night; I know it's an illusion, but it sticks with me. Sometimes, when I'm lying in bed, I take a deep breath and can almost smell it, even from home. The ocean speaks to us, not in any language meant to be understood, but it speaks nonetheless.

Tonight, it was angry, and violent. Good for my kind of surfing, but it made me wonder what was wrong in the world, that the water could slash against my skin, along the board, through the air, and into the sky in such a manner.

When I went home, I found Karina lying on my bed. Not so much lying, because that implies sleep, and peace. She was wearing one of my old shirts; it looked like she'd taken a shower and then thrown on the first thing she found.

Time after time her fists slammed into the mattress, almost hard enough to split the seams and have feathers spewing everywhere. I touched her shoulder, and she jerked in response.

Karina sprang off the bed, and I thought she was going to throw herself at me, but she didn't. Instead, she started fighting me. Her temper is like this; when it gets hot enough, she needs to lash out at something. Since I am not your average Parker, I can withstand quite a bit of her pummeling, so I let her do her worst until she got it all out of her system.

By the time her fists were almost raw, she let me pick her up, and carry her to the bed. I wrapped my arms around her while she cried, and waited.

The story she told me was enough to make me wonder about humans, and my need suddenly to be around them. Why did I bother worrying over my own demons, when there were things much worse, among their own kind?

One of her friends had been attacked. There are people in the world that you might say "oh, so and so is so sweet, so nice, such fun to be around." But you don't really mean it; not entirely. This woman, this friend of Karina's, really WAS such a person. I knew instantly who Karina meant, because the little bit of a thing had made an impression on even me. She'd made me laugh, and smile, and feel at home and at ease in her little store. Rare, for someone who stayed hidden from the world for hundreds of years.

Karina's little friend had been attacked. It's one of those ugly, horrible truths about life that you don't believe until it happens to someone you know. I believe the worst in life as a rule, but Karina.... she hasn't seen the worst of it, yet.

The young woman, barely old enough to have completed college, had been in her own home. Full of life and cats and fun. And some ugly, hideous, disgusting monster broke into her little apartment, and attacked her.

People think I am a monster, but humans are a thousand times worse.

Of course, Karina's friend was out of the hospital the following day, and two days later, she was ready to get back to work and move on with life. Karina looked up at me with growing horror, as she began to realize the full effect of the event, for her friend.

How could you ever feel safe alone, at home, after something like that? How could you stand to let someone touch you, get near you? Issues that many have had to overcome. Nothing that hasn't happened before.

But how many times have you stopped to wonder, could it happen to you?

I write this because I advise you to look at your life, and be safe. There will be no more days where Karina takes out the trash, at night, alone, or walks to her car in a dark parking lot without her phone. She'll look a little more closely to be sure she's locked up the house, and the windows tightly.

And you can bet I'll be watching, and waiting.

That's all from me. There's a Great White somewhere in the area, and I intend to find it.

Sing out loud like nobody's listening

2004-10-07T17:26:00.000-04:00

Sing with me, sing for the years
Sing for the laughter and sing for the tears
Sing with me, if it's just for today
Maybe tomorrow the good lord will take you away

One year ago this Saturday, we lost a very good friend. Clay was one of Jason's best friends and the first person I ever met when I came here to Louisville. Sure he suffered from strange Nsync hair at times, but a better guy you'll never meet.
He was driving in his car, on the way home from a night at the bar where he was more well loved and known than Norm at Cheers. He was on the road I drive every day, to and from work. It's twisty and turny and he didn't have on his seat belt.

That's it, he just wasn't wearing his seat belt. Chances are good he'd be alive right now, up at Good Times singing Save a Horse Ride a Cowboy, or Whiskey Lullaby or some equally good song, if he had only been wearing his seat belt.

Of all of Jason's friends, Clay was the first one who ever made me feel welcome. Now that he's gone, I feel like I was cheated out of the chance to really get to know him. He was young, in his 20s, and engaged to the sweetest girl, Nikki. God how I can't even begin to imagine how she must have felt.

The funeral was unreal. It went on for like eight hours and I've never seen so many people. I think Nikki said something like 800 people showed up. Let's just say Clay never met a stranger and he was always making friends. Hell, he had seven grooomsmen scheduled to be in his wedding, and I'm pretty damn certain he'd asked every one of them, including J, to be his best man. If there's a person in Louisville who didn't know him, I'd be suprised.

After the funeral a bunch of Jason's gang got together at my house and we had a big party where we proceeded to get tanked. I drank what, maybe three bottles of red wine thanks to Jason's pal Josh who works at the liquor store. This saturday we're all getting together again in Clay's honor.

In the short time I knew him, Clay touched my life more than some of the people who I've known my whole life. The lesson I learned is simple. Sing out loud and enjoy life, no matter what anyone else thinks. If you love yourself, and love life, everything else is gravy.
Clay certainly loved life. You could tell. And when we were at the wake, and got to say goodbye, there's never been a clearer message from beyond that there is more out there than just this life. He was happy, he was loved, and he loved others. But in that funeral home, he was just gone. I've seen dead bodies in funeral homes before, but never experienced anything quite like what I did seeing Clay's that day. In J's words, "he just wasn't there anymore. Whatever made Clay, Clay, was just gone." And you can't tell me that whatever that was, that magnificent something, that it's just simply slipped out into the void and will be no more.

I don't believe that, because I know better. I'm not sure I believe in the concrete idea of the pearly gates, or hell either for that matter, but I know there's more than what we see. Someone out there is responsible for the fabulousness of this world, and all the people in it. It didn't just happen by some freak explosion.

Somewhere out there, Clay is still singing. I plan to sing along, to my own tunes, from here, for quite a long time. A very very long time, because I love my own life and just about everything in it. But on the day I sing my last, there will be more than just long lost family waiting for me.

Rest In Peace seems highly inaccurate. Rest in Joy, in song, in laughter and in love.
And in all that, we'll remember Stephen Clay Crockett, one of my most favorite people of all time.

Why am I listening to Rap Music?

2004-09-26T23:57:00.000-04:00

The rhythm seems to be stuck under my skin, and every so often lately it crawls to the surface and won't let go. I don't listen to rap. Ever. At work I've got everyone trained to know that if rap comes on the radio, we're changing the channel.
I actually got frustrated in the car the other day when I couldn't figure out what the number was to the local rap station, I know there has to be one, and was stuck with pop music or nirvana. Uck. Why can't i have a CD player like the rest of the universe.
I've come to the conclusion that it's one of my muses taking hold and getting me prepped for some story that needs to be told. I'm kind of hoping it's kane or jude, because if Carter has started to like rap music, gods help us all. So far though, no one is claiming it. Maybe they know I'll kick their ass if I find out who's got me listening to the cable rap channel to someone named scrappy something or other.
LL was on earlier. Now there is some rap music I can listen to. Why isn't there an all LL all the time channel? What am I supposed to do, put Halloween H20 on automatic replay?
I'm taking a break for the moment from reading the LKH Incubus Dreams. I kind of had to. She's got us all in the middle of this big scene with JC and Richard, then all of a sudden I'm supposed to switch gears back to Police mode and Zerbrowski? This book, more than any other, you really have to seperate your own sense of self and fantasies from Anita's. And it's frustrating because every time I think Anita's life is going somewhere I can live with, she takes a step back, or seems to. The police stuff, and mystery, seems to be a hook LKH uses so she can call the book a 'mystery' instead of highly erotic paranormal whatever. Still, about every three sex scenes, we're expected to sit through the police stuff, only I find myself less and less interested. Because I know it's not going to be that well drawn out, as it was in some of the earlier books.
OK, this rap music is not working. It's all about rappers and their girlfriends. Whatever happened to the faster beat, hard core rap? I don't really have any particular interest in hearing about drugs death or killing cops, but I mean come on. I won't be able to understand it anyway, right?

Quotes of the day, from Incubus Dreams:
He licked my face, a quick flick of the tongue, and then he laughed, and it wasn't masculine, it was just Jason making a joke. Jason who would make a joke on the way to hell, even if it meant extra time and a worse punishment. No matter what form he was in, he was still Jason.
oh crap, if this rap station is going to play that rollin with the homies garbage, I'm going to slam my fist through the wall. Anyhow, there's the line where I was like, yeah, that's what I love about Jason-were.
And the other one, the one that had me cracking up. At the same time it's proof that you have to seperate yourself from your own reality and Anita's. There are things in the book that, as Anita would say, just flat out do it for me. Then there are things that IRL would be just repulsive, but in her own little fictional world I can sit back and watch. Anyway. Just when you think Richard is getting a bit more mature about everything.

Richard strode through the door, and his energy flung across the room like hot sparks from a fire. It hurt where it touched my skin like small biting insects. What do you say when you find your ex-fiancee fucking a leopardman? Richard knew just what to say. "The last time I saw anything this sick was in one of Raina's porno movies."

it's the 'richard knew just what to say' that cracks me up every time.

I've got to go now. They're playing Run DMC, and I might just have to get up and do the snoopy dance. See ya.

Bad Dreams

2004-09-24T09:39:00.000-04:00

I stayed up late reading Incubus Dreams last night, and I'm still only about 200 pages in. This is the first time a book has played havok on my subconcious in quite a long time. I didn't realize that the characters' nightmares and bad memories were having such an adverse affect on me. Maybe I'm not using the vocab. in quite the right way but I'm tired and want this down while it's fresh on my memory.
In the book, Micah talking about what happened to him made me very sad, but it was Nathaniel and Damian's nightmares that I think must have done this.
I was back at the Y daycamp. Gods that Was almost ten years ago. It looked slightly different, with different people, but it was still us being in charge of a bunch of kids and their safety. Safety which had taken a vacation in this dream apparently. We were under those covered picnic table areas that you see in parks and zoos. And, part of it was in what looked like the basement of my old church. Some bad guy or evil thing had already come along and taken one of the kids. Everyone was frantic. Police with helicopters and such trying to track the kid down,but I have a feeling for that kid at least, it was too late.
In the middle of all that, there was some crazy virus being spread. Handiwork of another, or the same, really bad evil thing. In the end, no one would get close to each other or touch anyone they cared about, for fear of transmitting whatever it was. No, that's not right. Not fear of transmitting it to others, fear of getting it themselves. And there was my Grandma Dorothy, someone who is dead now but was alive in the dream. Someone who I'd love to have back, for just a moment, for a big bear hug and to tell her how much I love her. But in the dream, I couldn't hug her, just kiss the air around her and feel really sad. I'm pretty sure the not being able to touch the people you love is something to do with the Anita book too. Not that they were stuck in any similar situation. Just, for Anita it may all be sexual but it's still all about touching loved ones, or not touching them because you love them, or other issues therein.
That's the point at which the cats woke me up. Was it because they could sense my distress? Or because they were hungry? Or because it was ten minutes before I had to get up anyway, and they like to do that?
I can't remember the last time I had such a vivid dream, or one so negative. And I don't think I've ever had a book influence my dreams so much.
Now, if the Anita book was going to come calling on my subconcious, why couldn't I have had NICE dreams with Jason or Nathaniel or Damian? Ok maybe skip those last two because they're too prone to the bad memories.
I'll probably delete this later, but this format was fastest, and easier to access this moring than my private journal. So if anyone out there is reading this, try not to delve too deeply into my subconcious and/or analyze my dreams.

There she goes, there goes Tokyo go go Godzilla

2004-09-21T23:59:00.000-04:00

Man, who the F## was THAT dude?
I don't know, but he was creeping me out bro.
Well I'm not sticking around to find out, Ry. It's bad enough we have
the creepy dude around all the time
he's like, Katie's stalker or some shit.
Well, we can't leave. CJ says we have to stick around and cheer her up
*evil stare at CJ* hurry up then, my ass is out of here. George and I have places to be, you know.
*sigh*
Look, you guys are cute, but not helping.
I'd tell you about the time we crashed the hospital, but we're under controlled.. copied..
copyright, you moron! It's amazing you ever made it out of college, dude.
My GPA was three tenths of a point higher than YOURs, bro. So don't look at me.
That's only because you have to share my brain, dumbass, and you hijacked it all through Western Civ senior year.
Can I help it if you had the hots for that brainy chick that sat behind us?
She was hot, dude. Hey and remember that nurse that-
AHEM*
oh, sorry dude.
IF you idiots don't get on with it, I'm going to make you call me God again.
*snickers* sure, dude.
OK, so here's the deal. You want to hear about Vegas, right?
Everyone wants to hear about Vegas.
Well I'm just saying, because some people have never been there.
Well George then those dudes are either jail bait or stupider than us rednecks.
See, this is why I do all the legwork and Jack does all the hands on stuff. I deal with the suits and he deals with the help.
Man, you are worse at telling a story than Parker. And no one bores me to tears more then he does, with all that "back in the old days before we lost Avalon" shit.
@#@#!@%#%$#^#$^$#%
Brief intermission.... *pauses* *rings bell* OK, get on with it or I'm going to bed. I have to deal with a questionsmeister trainee for twelve straight hours tomorrow.
That sucks. Is she hot?
No Ry, remember? it's that old dude. The one that didn't know who Jimmy Page was.
Dude, EVERYONE knows who Jimmy Page is.
YOU don't.
Of course I do. It's the dude the little doctor bro is always arguing about with the other creepy dude.
Speaking of the other creepy dude, remember that time we were in Vegas?
*LMAO* man, that was the fucking coolest thing ever.
So there we were, free tickets to the Ghosts of Avalon concert at Mandalay Bay.
We've got lifetime VIP passes, dude.
Yeah, and since Rache had the dudette at home in school, we got to hang out with Dave.
I'm not usually a big fan of those freaky pins in your ears black death people, but he rocks.
Me either. Those death people are freakier than the creepy dude.
So we're backstage about a half hour into the concert, when the power goes out.
To the whole casino, dude.
Dude. And Jack is all like, man, George Clooney is stealing their money again.
But we knew it wasn't him 'cause Dave told us Clooney is a pansy and didn't really steal any of that money at all.
It was the apples guy.
Apples guy? What the fuck, Ry.
You know, the apples guy from that movie with the genie. The one that talks like Kiel.
He's a DOG? Ryan, your sense of logic is broken, man.
So anyway everyone was freaking out when the lights didn't come right back on.
Running and screaming, crying and fighting
cats and dogs living together and- oh wait, that was that other time, sorry dude.
so we wanted to help, but Dave was all like, "No majick, dude"
That really sucked.
But he didn't say anything about no Godzilla
OR King Kong.
No, he didn't. And he didn't say anything about flashlights or pillars of firelight or babes in really short skirts with trays of beer.
We innocently break out with the Godzilla and King Kong.
Figured if it's going to be a riot, we might as well at least have some fun.
Well, it WAS fun. Even if you did get arrested.
no, YOU got arrested. See? That's you in the mug shot. *holds up framed photo*
Oh shit it is! Man, how'd i get that screwed up in my- wait a minute, we're twins, it's you, too. That IS you not me. You're a jerk, bro.
Proving once and for all why I get to be King Kong and you have to be Godzilla, dude.
Godzilla is ten times cooler than King Kong and you know it.
please. Need I point out the P. Diddy movie?
*smacks stupid brother into silence*
*smacks him again for good measure*
*smacks him again cuz I know it was him that stole my Titans jersey*
You jackass, SHUT UP about that or we're going to have to listen to Joey go on another five hour lecture on Zeppelin history.
Whoops. You're right, sorry dude.
Now say "Ryan is the cooler twin and god of all the universe"
Ryan is the- hey shitbird, those WERE the droids I was looking for. I'm not falling for THAT two times in one week.
That reminds me, did you get a chance to watch the Star Wars DVD today?
I don't know about you dude, but whatever that was that I saw, it wasn't Star Wars. I think George Lucas has got some conspiracy going on.
Remember when Dad took us to see it?
And then we got back to school the next day and no one knew what the hell we were talking about.
Imagine growing up and not knowing the difference between the Death Star and the Rebel Alliance is.
Alright now YOU'RE starting to scare me, and you're my twin brother. That can't be good, I'm leaving.
*ZZZZZZZZZ*
Look dude, she fell asleep. And we didn't even get to finish our story.
We never could have told her that story anyhow, dude.
Yeah. Lucien would seriously kick our asses.
Not that I'm scared of him or anything. *puffs out chest*
Well yeah, but I was talking about the cops.
Oh yeah. Forgot about you getting arrested, dude.
No not that! I meant the law. Remember? We saw it on TV when Mom was watching Law and Order last week. What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.
Shit you're right. Oh well, it's a shame. That was one funny ass story.
I know. And it even had chickens and easter eggs. Every good story has to have easter eggs.
Come on, I want to get going anyway. Trance is DJ at Zero tonight, and he promised to play our theme song when we get there.
Which one? The Kenney Chesney or the Alan Jackson?
No, the new one by those rich dudes.
Hell we are NEVER going to live that one down George, but if it gets me laid I guess I don't care.
What was the name of that dude again that stole our line?
I don't know but if anyone sees him, tell him I said thanks *vbg*

the small pleasures in life are always the best

2004-09-16T13:49:00.000-04:00

Jason and I started watching Farscape a couple years ago when we found it on the SciFi channel. They used to run all the eps, in order, late at night around midnight. Which was perfect for us, because one or both of us would just be getting home from work then. One day when they were nearing the final season in repeats, they just yanked it completely. What did they replace it with? Crossing Over. Or something. Hell, I would have even taken that ridiculous Lexx show over Crossing Over.

So, now we've got the TiVo. I turned the TV off last night after watching some program recorded off of TNT. When I turn the TV on this afternoon, not really expecting anything good to be on, the TiVo tunes itself to SciFi where an old eppysode of Farscape is on! And I haven't even told the dang thing that I love this show yet. It figured that out all by itself.

My day started itself off with a phone call, from the BP station where my car is being fixed. Something I was dreading, that I've put off for months, snowballed into three seperate problems. I had nightmares about how much it was going to cost, worrying a bit over spending so much money less than a year before I'll be ready to buy a new car. Grand total? Less than four hundred dollars. I was doing the snoopy dance around the house and the cats thought I was nuts.

Now here's a good one. For anyone who's never heard of DarkHunters, go to www.dark-hunter.com and check it out. The cover for Alexion's story is up. Well, the UK edition anyhow. The quote on the cover to Val's book is something like, "move over, Anne Rice". Couldn't have said it better myself. I love Lestat and her vampire books, but I really hated the finale that came out last year. The one that tied the Witching Hour characters into the Lestat mythos. Gods, it was just awful. Very depressing. I know Anne Rice lost her husband and that of course would impact her writing. I'm not trying to belittle that. I would have rather she published a short memo saying simply "Lestat is gone, off in the universe somewhere. Close your eyes and dream, and you will find he's not so far away." Maybe I should finish the damned thing. I only ever got about half way through. Got so discouraged that I skipped ahead and read some of the end, found out that it wasn't going where I wanted it to. Why bother with that depressing garbage when I could reread Zarek or Kyrian or a stack of comics that literally falls over every time you add another one to it?

I've got cherry flavored sodas, left over ice cream and honey flavored wings for treats this afternoon. Shen and Carter have been in and out of my thoughts and I've got some writing to do. My car is ready and when I pick it up by Krogers, it's ten percent off day for groceries. OH, and there's a Ben Browder marathon on the SciFi channel which my newest love, Tivo, has helpfully pointed out. I don't have any fresh books to read which means I'll be inclined to actually write later, which always makes me happy. Oprah said a long time ago to think every day of five things you're grateful for. Don't worry, I'm not going to do THAT every day. But today I'm grateful for TiVo, John Crichton, Hank the mechanic at BP, treats, discounts, quiet writing time, and UK book publishers. That's closer to ten or something, but I don't think Oprah will mind.

small beginnings

2004-09-15T01:57:00.000-04:00

What have I gotten myself into? Web publishing? HTML? This must be how Mom feels when I give her the exasperated, but Mom, no one can call you on your cell phone if you don't turn it ON look. Also I am reminded of fourth grade when I couldn't make the Apple IIe program tell me how old I would be in the year 2000.

Here I am anyway, gods help us all. Joey's yammering away in my head wanting to take over and type all kinds of skater/punk/mystick nonsense. Carter lounges in the doorway, waiting patiently. He knows if I can make this work it will only be a matter of time before I get to him.

But first, me. Today was a crazy day. My car was acting weird, my assistant was late, and I must be PMSing because I didn't deal with it all very well. Thank gods for Jason who I sometimes think is my inner peace. He just rubs my shoulders and smiles, or holds up one of the cats with a dopey grin. How can I not melt at that? Anyhow, to compensate for my frustrating afternoon, we went out. Jason bought a motorized litter box and I bought a TiVo.

woo hoo, TiVo!! Now I don't ever have to worry about missing Stargate or Smallville again. I am such a geek.
The litter box is having it's own strange effect on the household. Belle waits until it is clean, then lays down as if it were a bed. Mr. Jack and Roo watch it with growing concern. Roo is most freaked out by it. Funny, I wouldn't have pegged her as a technophobe, but there you go. Jack just huffs around as usual.

Not one to leave things on such a disgusting note....how did I get on that topic anyhow? I can't make the pictures upload, so we're going to table that while I run and try to determine how such a thing is done.