June
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Shame
Day
Say
'Cause it feels like I've been
Feels like something
Fade
Say
Massive Attack, Dissolved (Mezzanine)
Seen on TV:
It's 50 degrees Farenheit in my room. That's 50 cold, cold degrees. And Kafka pee'd twice in my bed. Of course.
Hmm. So now, if you'd actually want to, you can subscribe to my mailinglist, here. Don't expect too much from it though - my suspicion is it'll be very very very lowtrafficed, which is okay, but hehe. My ego just had to have one. |
I got honked at by a truck driver, today. I'm kind of proud, as my phletora of people 'harassing' me has only consisted of drunks, weirdo's at bus stops, and construction workers prior to this. Hooray?
I read an article today at A Dent in the Tori Amos Net Universe. The interviewer had printed about 60 pages from "an un named fan site" and handed it to Tori, and she seemed freaked. It seemed implied that it might be from the Dent he printed it, in which case - it makes me angry. The Dent is a wonderful fan site about Tori Amos, and yet, it's very little actually ABOUT Tori, it's more a central for gathering articles and information, as to help other fans out. It makes me sad to think that a reporter might have made it seem like some crazy site, run by an obsessed "lunatic"(his word). I think it's rude. And I hope it was some other site, and not the Dent, dammit. Reporters. Huff. I think there are so many degrees to being a fan. I think they can usualy be categorized in Good and Bad, though. Sending your cut off nose to your idol, would constitute that you're a Bad Fan. Wanting to help other fans keep track of information about their idol would make you a very Good Fan indeed. I don't know. It just made me sad. *shrug* There's enough crap said about the Internet and it's user's as it is. Most of us ARE responsible, amazing human beings, you know. *shrug* I don't know. It just saddened me.
I'm feeling a bit better. I think it _was_ the rain, because it stopped today, and I feel like, if not a million bux, then at least like pocket change. I won't be online until monday, though, so no updates until then. Sorry =( It's midsummer tomorrow. It's some sort of official Swedish feast celebrating summer solstice. The actual solstice isn't until sunday though, as far as I know. If you're a true Swede, you'll celebrate this holiday by getting really, really drunk. I think I'll just eat a lot of bluecheese, and get really, really bloated. Yeah.
I Caved in. I had to see what Sanrio's fortune center, and Monkichi had to tell me about my future this month. And what'd you know:
 Your overall fortunte: You may be feeling a bit melancholy this month. Rather than kick up your heels with friends, you may prefer to read a book or indulge in a more quiet pastime. Money you forgot may suddenly appear. Love: You feel the same about each other, but for one reason or another, you just can't get together. Patience! Friendship: A friend's good deed moves you. You could never have a better comrade than that! A little advice from Monkichi: If you want to make friends with someone you've just met, try emphasizing your gestures when you speak. Lucky Item: Paper bag
Til Monday - Feel like a deity, just for the hell of it, okay? Okay. |
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Here I said
I'm coming in the graveyard
I'm coming in the graveyard to
Tori Amos, Graveyard (Bee-Side)
I'm still pushing my mailinglist. To the ones who subscribed already - ARF! hehehe! Now we just need something to talk about 8(. Hmmm ...
I'm so bummed. Tori Amos will be performing during the Roskilde Festival in Denmark June 25, and of course, I won't be there. As if that wasn't enough - she'll be performing once in North Carolina. August 12 - I arrive August 16. ARGH! And then, there's the Stockholm Water Festival early August. Bjork will be there. PJ Harvey will be there. Portishead will be there. Will I be there? No. (I do like to whine, don't I? Well, at least all I have to whine about is not having money to go to concerts ... I remember a month and a half ago when I didn't have anywhere to live. And so it goes.)
You can't tell me it's over
Tori Amos, Doughnut Song (Boys for Pele) |
My mom tells me the oddest tidbits about my child hood sometimes. We were walking in the woods to throw away some garden garbage (branches, cut off dead flowers, etc), talking about I don't know what. All of a sudden she goes ... :
"I remember once, when you were a kid, you must have been around 3, because we were still living in the old house. You'd been gone for a while, but I thought nothing of it, you always wandered off on your own. Suddenly I noticed that the cars that passed our house were driving rather slow, and they were looking at something by the side of the road. Of course I got scared and thought maybe something had happened, so I ran out.I found you naked, covered in dirt right outside our garden, by the road. With you were your friends Dennis and Rebecca, both holding flowers. You were playing funeral, and you were the corpse that day. *insert me boggeling, as I had no recollection of this* Oh no, I'm not making this up, you guys used to play graveyard a lot, too, organizing small graves, putting flowers on them and all. I always found it funny." Hehhh.
I've suspected it many years, but when I found myself crying at the same spot watching the movie "Jack" as I did the first time I saw it, it seemed final. I think I may very well be the cheesiest, most ridiculously over emotional girl I know. SHhh, shush. How else to explain that I cry to things like ... :
Then there are the movies where I'll not just get weepy and shed 2-3 tears watching. I call them "Crawling on the floor and crying for 15 minutes or more" movies. Cyrano de Bergerac with Gerard Depardieu lives in this category, as does "Field of Dreams" and "A Perfect World", both with Kevin Costner, for some odd reason. *shrug*
I had such a pretty dinner last night, I fed seagulls and watched the sunset, and had nice white wine. I enjoy solstice's, for no good reason. I enjoy sunsets. OOOOOOO how pathetic. :) |
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Wheels on fire
Wheels on Fire,
I'm still pushing my mailinglist. To the ones who subscribed already - ARF! hehehe! Now we just need something to talk about 8(. Hmmm ...
meRLin tells you
The things people say sometimes. Urf. She made me blush more than wild apples. I'm just not very good at taking compliments. Something to do with having always been told my bad qualities while growing up, I guess. Classical.
I'm so itchy to TRAVEL somewhere. There are so many places I'd just ... love to see, people I'd *love* to meet. Just think about it. Toronto, with Debbie ... she could make me look like a goth, and we'd go to weird clubs! Arizona, with Jessica. We'd just do and talk about ... everything. Seattle, with Bren. Music input, OoOoo. New Orleans, with no one, but flowers and oooo. Egypt, with Aziza, and pyramids, and bellydancers. England, with Dylan and ... british things. Hehe. I wanna GOoOOooOO. I do feel guilty sometimes, when I complain about things like this. It's like when parents' yell at their kids for not finishing dinner, to think of all the starving children in the world (well mine never said anything, but still.) It's a guilt for having a good life, I guess. I'm not rich, my family isn't rich, and yet, from a different point of view - I have somewhere to live, my mom buy my food, I can watch various channels on tv, I can spend my entire summer at libraries, doing things online. I feel guilty for that, I guess. *shrug* |
It was fifth grade, and me and two other girls had rehearsed a dance segment for over a week. We were in charge of that weeks' Fun Friday Hour. We turned the lights off, except for a tiny red spotlight, started the music, began to dance and ... for the entire routine, all I could see was this girl laughing her arse off. I went from feeling proud to be able to do this nice dance routine, to feeling like a clumpsy elephant, prancing about, thinking I was "something".
Eight grade. Having fun with my friend Helena, being goofy in arts class. As usual, I go into severe laugh convulsions, near to falling off the chair giggeling. Same girl. "Jennie, ghod your LAUGH, it's giving me a head ache! If you MUST laugh, keep it down a little, gawd!!"
12'th grade. Singing in an empty hallway. Same girl. "Whoa, that IS an ugly voice!"
Yesterday. Stumbled upon an old school teacher, friend of hers. "Poor girl, her parents died when she was young, and now, I don't know how she'll get through college. People are so cruel here, always pushing others down. It's amazing how mean people can be. She's even thought about moving, she says she can't handle the people at her university, she doesn't know any of them. I don't know why people can't just be nice."
Jesse can be so ... blergh. I've fought with myself for weeks now not to ask him to buy me a ticket for the early Tori Amos concert in august, and then I mention she'll be playing, and he offers. Now I'm filled with all these bubbles that are sooo fragile, bubbles that all threaten to burst on the way. What if I call my travel agent, and there's no seat on an earlier flight? What if it's sold out? What if I can't get to the venue in Charlotte because I can't find anywhere to stash my suitcases? Should I try and get to the US a day before the concert, or go there right after getting to the airport? Will I have money for it? Would I get a bad ticket behind a pelar? Will I vomit at Tori's feet? Bubbles, bubbles, precious bubbles |
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here i am
prairieland
we have the stars
i'll make babes
we'll have the stars
here i am
we have the stars
we have the stars PJ Harvey, Goodnight
I'm still pushing my mailinglist.
Well. I'm checking dates and thinking real hard and talking to people. Maybe maybe maybe I CAN make it to North Carolina early enough to see Tori Amos perform. MAYBE. In my head, it's already happening, I can see myself trying to stash a camera in my bra, and my brain is feverishly thinking about what I'd bring just in case I got to see her at the meet-n-greet before the concert and got something signed and oo. The sad thing is, I can't think of a single thing I'd have to say. "Thanks for putting some glue on my pieces and getting them to hold together some more years."? I'm sure it would come out as "Hi I rillyrilly like your music yeah like all of us yeah thanks thanks.", but disguised as a sound such as "ghheghrgahjgrhgehgeggghehgah." Bubbles. Tiny, fragile bubbles, but OH how pink they are. |
Lasher, Anne Rice. Well, I finaly finished The Witching Hour sunday night, 'twas a nice +1000 pages long book, but it didn't really catch me until the last 300 pages or so. Bored and without any ideas as to what to read now, I started on the sequel, Lasher yesterday, but I'm already three quarters through it. I can't explain it. All of a sudden I have a craving to read things, no matter what it is. I'm so surprised by it, I try and keep track of what I've read, and count pages and ooo ... thousands of pages devoured in less than a month, billions of sentences, question marks and words leaking into my brain through my eyes. It's not a logical list of books I've read lately. In fact, just from that short list, it's evident I'm out of ideas and grabbing books randomly, I just _need_ something to read. Odd, but not at all unpleasant.
Debbie, summarizing my day for you:
Kerowyn: your day sux so far :P Well said!
Two of our cats were sick all Saturday, but I still can't stop fussing over them, despite that they aren't coughing or just plain soggy and barely moving anymore. Who needs kids, when you can spend an hour getting a kitten to drink a spoonful of milk to induce diarrhea, or handfeeding the elderly cat tiny pieces of ham, because she won't move from her warm spot for 20 hours? It seems lately my life has been taken over by my 3 cats. I spend most of my waking time when I'm at home reading, and trying to keep the cats from jumping at each others throats. They used to be lazy things I'd get to pat every now and then - now they're _everywhere_, and I'm loving it, but I still can't figure out why Sammy, a BIG muscular black cat will leave the kitchen if he so much as see's the kitten, instead of ignoring the little toddler. Strange. I can't figure out if he's just a very nonconfrontational cat, or plainly a sweet coward. Ah well. At least he's there :) |
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Humpty Dumpty sat on the wall
Humpty Dumpty and Betty Louise
He said "Everything's going my way"
Humpty Dumpty sat on the wall
hey, Betty Louise
Tori Amos, Humpty Dumpty
I'm still pushing my mailinglist.
I picked a BLUEBERRY in the woods today! It's very much too early for blueberries to be ready, but as I was walking through, I couldn't help myself from casting lustful eyes towards the blueberry bushes, and OH, I spotted the prettiest blue berry you ever saw, and of course my first reaction was ... Must Eat Blueberry. "I'm not a vegetarian because I love animals, I'm a vegetarian because I hate plants." Well, not, but still. And delicious it was, even though eating berries straight off the bush always makes me a wee bit paranoid - something MUST have urinated on this plant at SOME time. Ewww. |
I can't seem to stop thinking about food today. I think it was all set off by that blueberry. Well, and singing 'Raspberry Swirl'. And that song to the left of this ... CUSTARD. I once re invented custard. I didn't mean to, of course, I was just stirring things together, and then oh my - this tastes just like vanilllla custard. I do that, sometimes, when the craving for something I haven't had before get too bad. I get out the pots and pans, the sugar, the milk, the eggs, the cinnamon, the works, baby, and then it's like a chemistry lab. I mix things, I heat things, I taste a little, I add something else, and then I end up with something that's usualy delicious, but that can't ever be made again. I love my sweet tooth for it. I do think that some people are just as sweet and lovely as vanilla custard. It's something about their ways, how they're so good and sweet your hands get sticky when you touch them.Lucky me - I know several people like that, though I haven't had a chance to smother them all in person yet.
My grandmother makes me so sad. She used to be this wonderful vibrant woman, we'd have enormous fights about things like wether or not I should be allowed to walk outdoors with golden dance shoes, and she'd go on trips to places like Bulgaria. Now she's 81, and thinks there's been a burglary in her home, even when it's evident she's been cleaning, left the house mid through, and come back, unable to understand why there's a mess in her house. It drives us all insane, but I think I'm coping. I'm trying to pretend like nothing is the matter, when she asks me for the fifth time in half an hour how far it is to New York from Chapel Hill, and who I live with there - every time I see her. What drives ME insane is my family's attitude about it. My mother is worn out from it, I know. It's hard, she's the one who mainly has to keep my granny company every night, so I suppose she's subjected to it more than I am, but sometimes I hear myself reprimanding my mother for scolding my granny for things she's doing because she can't remember doing them before. She's the only grand parent I've ever known. It's so hard to see her get old. I guess it always is. Thank Ghod she still likes to dye her hair. She still got some of her spunk =8)
My mother is getting her pay check today. Do you KNOW what this means? I can buy BELL PEPPERS and rhubarbs and white cold things like vanilla ice cream. Oh Ghod. I already know what I'll have to eat today. I'll make one of those lasagnas ... and APPLE PIE with tons and tons of cinnamon, and SUGAR, and maybe some ice cream, oh joy.
Well, I called my travel agent, and it seems I can actually get to North Carolina. It'll be more expensive, BUT. Let's face it. If you're already $20, 000 in debt, what's another $400? (Hehe, with this attitude, I'm sure you can see why January 28th happened.) The sad thing is, I don't even have a ticket yet, and I'm already planning what to bring and give Tori if I get to see her at the meet-n-greet before the concert. Yes. You're apsolutely right. A pair of soft fabric bunny ears. Hehhhh.
Margaret Atwood. Yes. I think I should. :) |
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