There are stories about the outbreak of swine flu all over the news. My mind is prepared to believe the worst. It doesn't take much for me to feel like the world is contagious.
Hopefully this will just sort of fade away... like other Yahoo headlines that seemed like the premise for some post apocalyptic movie.
Monday, April 27, 2009
Saturday, April 25, 2009
Skipping Obedience Class
Boris made it through his first thunder storm today... he wasn't unaffected but he didn't hide in the basement either. I used the rain as an excuse to skip his obedience class. I was looking pretty hard for a reason though. I just didn't want to go I think. It felt very nice to not have an obligation.
Boris will be ok though... most of the things he really needs to lean will come only after lots and lots of training, and it was becoming pretty obvious that he wasn't going to be the perfect little gentleman at the end of the 6 weeks.
Boris will be ok though... most of the things he really needs to lean will come only after lots and lots of training, and it was becoming pretty obvious that he wasn't going to be the perfect little gentleman at the end of the 6 weeks.
Zombie Thoughts
Joe and I have lots of ideas about what to do when the zombies come...
..Also while brainstorming we started to wonder, if radiation created the zombies and Godzilla... who would win in a fight? Would Godzilla turn if he was bitten... is his skin too thick to bite?
If he eats them will he turn..................and even if he did turn how would he act differently?
Friday, April 24, 2009
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Stuff Spilled out
I have had topics for today's entry running around in my head all day.
For some reason this blog energizes me in a chaotic way.
My most ambitious entries involved me trying to get down to the real reason I try to create things...and further why I have desires to share my creations ...
My internal monologue of a rant wove itself around ... touching on:
-religion ( or in my case a lack of...),
-apologies for not giving my art and the creation of it the proper attention....
-more apologizes for carrying my journal around at work like a security blanket....
-a passionate description about the beautiful garbage that we produce in our factory... and how that garbage makes me happy...
-and some whiny little sob story about feeling incompetent and underrated at the same time... I feel this way often, this is not new.
...but when I sat down to type... it all just felt like blah..blah...blah...
Here, I think, is a link to my photobucket thingie... I keep scanning shit and throwing it in there... have a look if you like ... but like my head nothing is really organized. I have stuff from yesterday mixed in with stuff I did 10 years ago. ... and then a few pictures of my dog.
Photobucket
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Old Journals
I am having so much fun looking through my old journals ... scanning images and then making slideshows. It is making my blog a little unruly...and disorganized, but I am having fun.
Monday, April 20, 2009
Sunday, April 19, 2009
Old stuff
A long time ago I had a web page. On that page I had an on-line journal. I have a link to the page in this post, but I don't know how much longer that link will function.
Old Journal
I read through a few of those entries the other night....and it was painful for me for a few reasons.
I am squeamish about the wording and the spelling..... but, I don't mean that.
I remember writing those entries and I remember what I was going through at the time.
Bluntly, I was in a very bad place because of my Mom. It is not a coincidence that my interest in the page faded off and my entries went cold after she died.
I think I want to go back to them because there was so much I wasn't saying... things I couldn't handle, and secrets that hadn't revealed themselves yet. I need to wrap those things up.
I don't mean to drag this out or be cryptic, I just don't know how to jump into this.
My relationship with my Mom is a big issue for me ... her death, and the way it happened shaped me.... and in a tragic way that I regret, I wasn't able to be an adult and step in to be of any help to her. I was too busy running off and licking my own wounds. .................... so....................... this is my plan... I will spit out a rough explanation and then from time to time I will post one of the old entries that I feel needs to be filled out and go into greater detail.
I Loved my Mom... When reading this try to keep that in your thoughts as a constant.
The first time I remember things seeming unreasonable came on her 40th birthday. My Dad and I decorated the basement with black balloons and streamers and had an over the hill tombstone on her birthday cake. I was very excited about her seeing it... it never occurred to me that she would feel anything but special, we had put a lot of effort into everything, and it seemed right along the lines of her humor... she had never been sensitive about her age... and had laughed at and made comparable jokes.----- When she saw it she started screaming... and accused my Dad and I of wanting her to die, and trying to kill her and then she went into the bed room and cried for a day. Later she came out and apologized.
I would see this play itself out over and over... sometimes because they left onions off of her hamburger ... She saw plots against her everywhere... and random things would send her into depressions that would last for days. Sometimes she would stop eating, sometimes she would sit on the edge of the bed holding her pillow and cry....for hours... later she began injuring herself...pulling out her hair in chunks... digging her nails into her skin...and other things..... and much later she started really lashing out at my Dad and I. My Dad first... then me.... She would say things like... she had written notes and hidden them in the house telling people how we murdered her... and how we wanted her to die. BUT in between she was fine ... she was my wonderful loving Mom.
I was in college before I started to understand that she had problems that she was creating herself. Until that time ... until Joe saw the situation and tried to bring me out of everything... I believed I really was horrible ... I was killing her.... and I was certain that when I grew up I would become just like her. I believed that... I always felt this ticking clock .... always distrusted my judgement..... and worried constantly about keeping control.
I was living in a little apartment on Fratney street when she really got sick.... I noticed, but couldn't tell what the situation was from a distance... and I admit I created some of the distance. When i first moved out I was selfish... I was trying to break out of things that were injuring me, so I won't apologize.... but I will say I wish I (the person I am now) could go back and talk to her.
At the time I wrote these journal entries... I knew how severe things were someplace... It wasn't super conscious... and so it came out in strange ways. I stopped sleeping I had terrible dreams when I did sleep that didn't end when I woke up....I Was cracking apart.
The horrible truth is...as much as I want her here with me alive now... there was a relief that I felt when she died. The person she had become in the last year of her life was tortured ...and ill...
After she died...
three years later...
I got a call from my half sister .... a sister I knew nothing about. Mom had given her up for adoption.... and no one living had known a thing about it.
I've written enough for today... but .... I will write more some other time.
Old Journal
I read through a few of those entries the other night....and it was painful for me for a few reasons.
I am squeamish about the wording and the spelling..... but, I don't mean that.
I remember writing those entries and I remember what I was going through at the time.
Bluntly, I was in a very bad place because of my Mom. It is not a coincidence that my interest in the page faded off and my entries went cold after she died.
I think I want to go back to them because there was so much I wasn't saying... things I couldn't handle, and secrets that hadn't revealed themselves yet. I need to wrap those things up.
I don't mean to drag this out or be cryptic, I just don't know how to jump into this.
My relationship with my Mom is a big issue for me ... her death, and the way it happened shaped me.... and in a tragic way that I regret, I wasn't able to be an adult and step in to be of any help to her. I was too busy running off and licking my own wounds. .................... so....................... this is my plan... I will spit out a rough explanation and then from time to time I will post one of the old entries that I feel needs to be filled out and go into greater detail.
I Loved my Mom... When reading this try to keep that in your thoughts as a constant.
The first time I remember things seeming unreasonable came on her 40th birthday. My Dad and I decorated the basement with black balloons and streamers and had an over the hill tombstone on her birthday cake. I was very excited about her seeing it... it never occurred to me that she would feel anything but special, we had put a lot of effort into everything, and it seemed right along the lines of her humor... she had never been sensitive about her age... and had laughed at and made comparable jokes.----- When she saw it she started screaming... and accused my Dad and I of wanting her to die, and trying to kill her and then she went into the bed room and cried for a day. Later she came out and apologized.
I would see this play itself out over and over... sometimes because they left onions off of her hamburger ... She saw plots against her everywhere... and random things would send her into depressions that would last for days. Sometimes she would stop eating, sometimes she would sit on the edge of the bed holding her pillow and cry....for hours... later she began injuring herself...pulling out her hair in chunks... digging her nails into her skin...and other things..... and much later she started really lashing out at my Dad and I. My Dad first... then me.... She would say things like... she had written notes and hidden them in the house telling people how we murdered her... and how we wanted her to die. BUT in between she was fine ... she was my wonderful loving Mom.
I was in college before I started to understand that she had problems that she was creating herself. Until that time ... until Joe saw the situation and tried to bring me out of everything... I believed I really was horrible ... I was killing her.... and I was certain that when I grew up I would become just like her. I believed that... I always felt this ticking clock .... always distrusted my judgement..... and worried constantly about keeping control.
I was living in a little apartment on Fratney street when she really got sick.... I noticed, but couldn't tell what the situation was from a distance... and I admit I created some of the distance. When i first moved out I was selfish... I was trying to break out of things that were injuring me, so I won't apologize.... but I will say I wish I (the person I am now) could go back and talk to her.
At the time I wrote these journal entries... I knew how severe things were someplace... It wasn't super conscious... and so it came out in strange ways. I stopped sleeping I had terrible dreams when I did sleep that didn't end when I woke up....I Was cracking apart.
The horrible truth is...as much as I want her here with me alive now... there was a relief that I felt when she died. The person she had become in the last year of her life was tortured ...and ill...
After she died...
three years later...
I got a call from my half sister .... a sister I knew nothing about. Mom had given her up for adoption.... and no one living had known a thing about it.
I've written enough for today... but .... I will write more some other time.
Saturday, April 18, 2009
Ninjas with Lasers
That's me... but I picked a picture that was taken at a flattering angle I ... it was the anomaly... every other picture was saggy and puffy or disturbing. I probably should have used one of those ... they are kinda cool in their own way... but I was too vain.
It's 5am, Joe is sitting on the couch next to me watching the rest of American ninja... the part he slept through . This movie is; slightly awesome, boring, and ridiculous. I really didn't give it my full attention, but there seem to be many scenes I am confused by or just don't care about and then there is something cool like ninjas using lasers...
We will be watching Old Yeller next. We decided to rent it after watching Marley and Me. I felt like a bitch because I didn't cry at the end like everyone said I would ... (I didn't get into the movie.... ) Later when I was describing Old Yeller to Joe -who has not seen it- I started crying like a baby... so ... Joe has the dvd in talk to you later.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - ------------------------------------------ - - - - - - - - - - - -
Ok, I cried through the whole thing... even parts that weren't sad, because I knew what was coming.
(if you've watched the movie) The part that gets me most is ... after Ol' Yeller is infected with rabies and locked in the shed... when they believe there is hope and think that he may be just fine. the boy goes out alone to feed the dog...and it growls at him. For a short period of time the boy denies the truth of the situation- O' Yeller has been infected... he knows... he alone knows... . Later when he actually has to shoot the dog, the situation is clear cut the dog he knew is gone already so shooting is sad and final, but it doesn't impact me as much as the scene when he first realizes.
It's just like Rodger in Dawn of the Dead, Ol' Yeller tried not to....
Friday, April 17, 2009
What do I want
Joe is sleeping next to me on the couch... we are watching American Ninja. This was his rental choice.
Maybe that isn't the best opening line for my new blog but I don't know where else to start. I don't really have a plan.
I am coming back to my on-line Journal after an absence that can be counted in years. My old web page Chobek's Box is pretty much dysfunctional... and even if it wasn't full of links that don't work and images that don't load... it kinda sucked.
I am assuming this new attempt won't suck I suppose, but, I want to have confidence at the beginning of my scheming at least. I don't want to be so squeamish about the things that I write and do, that I never try anything. (I am already censuring my strong desire to throw out disclaimers... I like those... but I go a bit nuts sometimes ...to the point that I seem fake instead of just paranoid about seeming foolish.)
Here is what I want from this
- I am losing touch with myself and I want to do something to actively bring my loose ends back together. I feel passionate attachments to too many ideals, thoughts, TV commercials... Some things really are important to me and my life... others are just sideways and backward vented energy coming from what I keep bottled up. Maybe I can pull back if I write it out...and see where things fit, what is repeated, what I can let go of and what I can take steps to control.
- I have lost touch with community.
I love and feel very happy in the little bubble I live in.(We, Joe Boris and I ) are so warm and comfortable... and I mean that in the best way possible
-but-
....... I don't know how to say this next part...... I am clinging to that happiness so tightly that everything else has become the enemy. I don't see new experiences as opportunities any longer I see them as possible disruptions......................and when I do have the desire to make contact with other humans... I am spastic and incoherent. I talk at people now instead of to them ... and I find myself unable to represent myself ... or at least the person I think I am............I feel constantly judged at the same time that I feel completely misunderstood. I am pulling away, further than I ever have...... and I am beginning not to care.
When I make efforts to connect I want there to be a buffer... small gifts instead a direct conversation to say that I was thinking of them....Fantasy conversations in my head, This blog written to no one .....like a message in a bottle...but I am not really even hoping that it is found....I am more comforted by the idea that it will be lost in the excessive amount of information that is the Internet.... I won't lie somewhere I have grand ideas about the things that I spill out here touching someone...but... I don't think I could write this if I really felt it would have an impact.
Example- My cousins Jenny and Craig travel and see the world... I see the photos and hear the stories... and I envy them...but only to a point... when I picture myself in their shoes I find myself wishing that I could go these places and be invisible. I want to watch, but not participate in the world.
So here I will write things... and for now not expect or solicit responses...but maybe in the future I will put it out there a little further... maybe I will try to make a connection...
-I think a lot of weird little things are pretty... I want to share those things that make me happy...
- I work in a factory... I am unhappy at work. ...there are a bunch of assholes I don't care about...and a bunch of people that I do care about that are constantly getting shit on by those assholes.
I need to vent ................I am feeling pretty worn down.
-Writing this makes me feel like I've done something.
Maybe that isn't the best opening line for my new blog but I don't know where else to start. I don't really have a plan.
I am coming back to my on-line Journal after an absence that can be counted in years. My old web page Chobek's Box is pretty much dysfunctional... and even if it wasn't full of links that don't work and images that don't load... it kinda sucked.
I am assuming this new attempt won't suck I suppose, but, I want to have confidence at the beginning of my scheming at least. I don't want to be so squeamish about the things that I write and do, that I never try anything. (I am already censuring my strong desire to throw out disclaimers... I like those... but I go a bit nuts sometimes ...to the point that I seem fake instead of just paranoid about seeming foolish.)
Here is what I want from this
- I am losing touch with myself and I want to do something to actively bring my loose ends back together. I feel passionate attachments to too many ideals, thoughts, TV commercials... Some things really are important to me and my life... others are just sideways and backward vented energy coming from what I keep bottled up. Maybe I can pull back if I write it out...and see where things fit, what is repeated, what I can let go of and what I can take steps to control.
- I have lost touch with community.
I love and feel very happy in the little bubble I live in.(We, Joe Boris and I ) are so warm and comfortable... and I mean that in the best way possible
-but-
....... I don't know how to say this next part...... I am clinging to that happiness so tightly that everything else has become the enemy. I don't see new experiences as opportunities any longer I see them as possible disruptions......................and when I do have the desire to make contact with other humans... I am spastic and incoherent. I talk at people now instead of to them ... and I find myself unable to represent myself ... or at least the person I think I am............I feel constantly judged at the same time that I feel completely misunderstood. I am pulling away, further than I ever have...... and I am beginning not to care.
When I make efforts to connect I want there to be a buffer... small gifts instead a direct conversation to say that I was thinking of them....Fantasy conversations in my head, This blog written to no one .....like a message in a bottle...but I am not really even hoping that it is found....I am more comforted by the idea that it will be lost in the excessive amount of information that is the Internet.... I won't lie somewhere I have grand ideas about the things that I spill out here touching someone...but... I don't think I could write this if I really felt it would have an impact.
Example- My cousins Jenny and Craig travel and see the world... I see the photos and hear the stories... and I envy them...but only to a point... when I picture myself in their shoes I find myself wishing that I could go these places and be invisible. I want to watch, but not participate in the world.
So here I will write things... and for now not expect or solicit responses...but maybe in the future I will put it out there a little further... maybe I will try to make a connection...
-I think a lot of weird little things are pretty... I want to share those things that make me happy...
- I work in a factory... I am unhappy at work. ...there are a bunch of assholes I don't care about...and a bunch of people that I do care about that are constantly getting shit on by those assholes.
I need to vent ................I am feeling pretty worn down.
-Writing this makes me feel like I've done something.
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