I believe I can fly...

Dude. Just.... dude. Who said humans aren't meant to fly?

"In Review" (with musical accompaniment)

As if the staring down the barrel of my impending birthday didn't get me reflective enough, those reflections now have a soundtrack.

On today's concert calendar I hear the Presidents of the United States of America are playing tonight at the Pyramid Brewery. I remember the first time I saw them -- it was '94 or maybe '95. It was the Moore, I was with the unrequited-crush-du-jour, and they were opening for - wait for it - They Might Be Giants. (Talk about your quirk-rock dream bill!) The show was a blast, and I've followed both bands with interest since.

Version .94 of me had her whole life ahead of her still. She was as optimistic as I ever get about the future. Then, it was just a question of time before I'd have "a life" (the stereotypical 'settle down with husband, mortgage and kids' scenario)... and if the "life" wasn't forthcoming, I'd have a career instead.

And version .07? Has neither. And is learning to content herself with that while be simultaneously embittered about the need to do so.

"I wish that I could help you feel the cool breeze
Set up an IV of sanity
Say there's a spy in one half of your brain
Spyin' on the other half and drivin' you insane..."

Hey Lunatic, indeed.

Dear Universe...

Hi. It's me. Your punching bag. Quit it.

Don't get me wrong, I'm glad I have the health, shelter, food, employment and family stuff covered. I'm painfully aware of how petty my complaints are, by and large. But I still got 'em.

I'm not saying I want sunshine, puppies and rainbows 24/7... but could you maybe just space things out a little bit? Maybe let me recover just a touch before you continue the next assault?

Seriously, you're ruining my Hallowe'en. I LOVE Hallowe'en, and I've been dealing with such a freakin' shitstorm I can't enjoy it anymore. So stop already.

Thanks.

PS 3WA Secret Pal person? I don't mean you. You are AWESOME. With ham and jam and Spam on it.

Y'say you want to overdose on the cute?

I'm here to help.  (Disclaimer:  I'm not a cat person.  However, these are KILLING me.)

Take THAT:



and THAT!

Goan yersel', lads... hee.

Travesty, not tragedy

Item the first: A rantlet.

Why did "Int0 the Wild" need to be made into a film? What's filmworthy or profound about 'Alex@nder Supertramp' (forgive me as I roll my eyes) dying of... well, stupidity?

I'll admit I've enjoyed what I've heard of the soundtrack, but would someone please tell me what's fascinating about being so wilfully ignorant, so bullheadedly stubborn that you wind up starving yourself to death?

Marching out into the Alaskan sticks with nothing more than a gun, bag of rice and book on edible plants isn't heroic - it's STUPID. (Hell, I've been stupid. Make a movie about me.)

While I do feel profoundly for the McCandless family and those who knew and loved him... this isn't tragedy. This is Darwin Awards material.

Item the Second: Formatting issues.
Could someone point me towards a quick-and-dirty tutorial on how I can put the lovely Shelfari and DDN ticker into a sidebar? I'm inept. (I can has codemonkey? Plzthxbye.)

Item the Third: Comment?
If you're actually reading this, would you let me know by dropping a comment? I haven't exactly gone capital-p Public, so I'm just curious if anyone but the StaceCadet's actually reading this.

Speaking of books...

here's a bit of the 'canon per me'.