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Hm. Wondering if maybe they finally caught the people who kept breaking into cars in the neighborhood and surrounding area.

When I went to go around the block so I could park on the correct side of the street, there were 2-3 police cars blocking the corner so I couldn’t get around and had to turn into the next development and drive all the way back out to the road to get back again to the entrance of our neighborhood and, you know, discover that our neighbor took my parking spot. -___-

So I got to park on the other side of the next house and walk to my house in the pouring rain and rage at my Wolf for trying to look on the bright side and be glad that we’re not a witch, or we might’ve melted…grr.

I was cross about how there was a hole in the clouds right where the moon was, so you could see it really nicely and feel it mocking you the same as the sun does when you are getting sunburnt and drenched at the same bloody time.

I’ll be glad if they’ve caught the people though. It’s nice to have one less thing to look out for.

(On an unrelated note…my mom is looking into getting us a target so my sisters and I can learn to use throwing knives. Because that sounds like a good time with family, right?

And speaking of family…at what point do siblings stop tattling on dumb stuff? Does it EVER end? x_x)

Anyway. Imma sleep now and hopefully not take any melotonin tonight…I took 2 last night and woke promptly at 830am, where it went like this–

Me: I’m wide awake! :D
Wolf: Um. No. Stop that.
Me: But I’m SUPER awake! :D
Wolf: You have to be at work until at least 2 am. You can’t be awake right now.
Me: But I AM! :D
Wolf: This is probably a bad idea, but…

So I took 3 more and then dozed fitfully until 1230 when I woke up again. Probably shouldn’t take that many again.

Also…there was some vague dream about one of my old managers being a music teacher, and also…this guy who’d had his legs and an arm blown off in some horrible accident…

I’d like to exchange that dream for a better one wherein everyone has their limbs.

done vs. to do

I did some things today.

Went to Jester’s parents’ house to rescue some flowers that his mom had dug up and was trying to rehome. Perhaps they’ll get planted tomorrow so that they don’t dry out and die.

I also felt bad because I’d forgotten she’d said on fb that she was sick. And I just kind of showed up. Because I have no manners whatsoever. :(

I picked up flea killer to use on all the floors in the apartment, and on the couch and Jester’s mattress. His poor cat is going to be cross with me tomorrow…

I also went shopping and was sad at how much moisturizer costs. All I want is to avoid having the skin on my face dry so out thoroughly that it is flaking and powdering off. And the one I used to use is discontinued. -_-

I picked up a package at the mall, too, which is exciting (although part of me would like to go back a fortnight and tell myself not to do it, since that was likely the thing that put me over-budget for the month).

…I think I’ve been rebelling against the something that was trying to persuade me that I was done being a Goth (we can also blame Pandora and iTunes for insisting that I want to listen to a lot of Blutengel). Because one “outgrows” that. Except that they don’t, and being a Goth on the inside is nice and all, but looking like I might be one is a fine feeling. (Another fine feeling: being able to wear a pair of pants that I bought 11 years ago.) I’m not sure that I could pinpoint what I mean, but…it’s that fine distinction between just having a lot of black clothes, and using them to communicate a specific thing.

So, I’ve been trying to figure out how to best accomplish that again, seeing as I don’t go out too often and I have to avoid wearing certain things around the dogs so that they don’t get destroyed…

…maybe I will even bust out the white powder again (I wonder if my dad will get that concerned look on his face that he used to wear the last time I started doing this…?), since I think I need to practice so that I can have a proper costume when I visit K and Jon. (There is a hat I really fancy, too, but I think I am going to draw the line there, and try to satisfy myself with sending K an email about it because she might find it interesting…)

So. Now I need to get my laundry out of the dryer, and go to bed so that tomorrow I can plant things and then…idk. Maybe go to the park with Domino? Maybe clean the pine-sap off my car? Or…call the health insurance company about my messed up bill, since I haven’t done that yet. And get the last stuff in order about my car accident. FINALLY.

Aaand…then drive to the apartment and clean like there is no tomorrow, and figure out how to stop being a monster because it’s ruining my life and it’s ruining Jester’s life and I just want it to stop.



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I had a rubbish sleep last night…took 2 melatonin and still kept waking…those little, annoying moments of wakefulness where you’re not fully awake, but you’re definitely not asleep. Also dreamt that my dog peed on my bed, but she doesn’t even sleep in the room with me.

Idk. It was convincing and probably what started me to being fully awake, but then…then the music started. In my head. And I don’t know why, but this happens from time to time where a sound in my dreams or in my subconscious is too loud and it wakes me. Annoying.

Also: what’s the deal? These songs are like, “something-something, vampires”, and I’m like, “hey, that’s great. I can get behind that.” But…then the translations are like, “also, we support global incineration. We thought you should know.” And then one of the songs has a vague political angle, to which I’m like, “woah…calm down there, vampires. That is not a good platform for you. I mean, you know you guys catch fire really easily, right?” And they’re like, “yay! Fire! :D”

I think that’s what I was thinking when I was coming awake and trying to turn my brain volume down. Still. Better than the murder-suicide songs. (Oh, and there’s the cover of “I Kissed a Girl”, which I forgot about but made me choke on my drink when it made an appearance on my shuffle earlier. It’s not that funny, but…you know. Sometimes things just appear at the wrong time.)

On the other hand, all kinds of good things happened today.

1. I am 100% going to see K and Jon. I’m so excited. As excited as someone as cool and unfeeling as I can be excited about a thing. Although I need to email her about the flight times before I go to sleep…hm.

2. Got to the last story in the book by Neil Gaiman that I’ve been reading. I’ve only read the story title and the first section title, and already I am excited to read it…because the story relates somehow to a barghest, and I’m interested to see which form it takes in the story (although let’s be honest: I will be disappointed if it doesn’t turn out to be a black dog-wolf creature). Saving that for tomorrow.

3. I got curious and asked Etsy if it had any barghest-related items. There is an oil painting, from a vendor called My Good Babushka, of a child with the barghest on a leash. I am pretty sure that child is my friend, Toni. It says it’s a Victorian boy, but it looks just like her.

The Barghest, Original Art, Black Dog, Ghost Dog, Hound of the Baskervilles, Victorian Themed Art, Cryptozoology, Monster, Night, The Moors

4. Tyler and I made office-supply crossbows. They are dangerous, if only because they don’t always fire…so you’ll expect it not to, and then it does…someone is going to end up getting shot with an ink-tube bolt. We shouldn’t be allowed to have the internet.

5. I can fit through that window at work.



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A story about a girl being stalked by someone who performs as a living statue, and spends the time when he is not performing either stalking her online, or actually creeping around her flat and being very still so that she doesn’t notice.

Probably one of the creepiest short stories I have ever read from Nail Gaiman. Not a good creepy though…

Because really. Nobody likes to imagine being stalked. And the bits of online stalking…?

Despite the wishes I used to express about having more companions or just more socialization…one of my fondest hopes is that I’ve cultivated my habits to deflect interest. I’d rather not be bothered with, just because that seems safer than to go the way of my sister, who has always cultivated a more inviting demeanor, and is now constantly worried about being stalked by people she works with or by customers or by people that she doesn’t want to know anymore…

Sometimes I think she’s just flattering herself, but one can never really know unless something bad happens.

But yeah. Been thinking about that in a general sort of way because of some things happening with her and with my neighborhood, which don’t bear writing about but which make me uneasy…and then this story had to happen when I was doing my bit of reading for the night and eating my too-hot soup that I wish now I hadn’t eaten…

And there was a song, too. A song that was really rude for persuading me to like it, and then admitting that it’s about a murder-suicide. I let too many of those get past me, I think…songs about guys killing their girlfriends or their children because they can’t handle life.

What does that say about me, I wonder? The getting suckered in by things that turn out to be really horrible? (Probably that I have bad taste in musics.)

Sleeptime is now.



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So. Movie stuff, right? One of our supervisors didn’t know that M. Night Shyamalan had a new movie coming out, so we figured we’d watch the trailer…only she doesn’t like scary movies. It’s been a long while since I laughed so hard as I did when she was trying to escape the so-small office after she realized what kind of movie it was.

Here’s the trailer.

Blair: Oh my gosh–she just told her to get in the oven?!

Me: Obviously, the children haven’t heard enough fairy tales, or they’d know that when an old lady is trying to lure you near an oven, you should go the other way.

Mike: And if it’s a German trying to get you near an oven, you go the other way fast.

Me: Omg. Really? We had to go there?

We also discussed whether or not I can fit through the money window, which I guarantee I can, but I am not sure how easily it would go. I may try it sometime when everyone else isn’t around…just to see. (Not like trusting Maggie to let me out of the small safe, which I am also sure I could fit inside.)

…we’re very professional.

I feel like we messed around a lot today, which was fine because we weren’t too busy (school being in again is glorious, even if it was a Saturday) during the early part of the evening. After 10 it got bad though…we had outrageous lines, but I couldn’t do anything about it because every body we had working (including myself) was already at a register, except the one girl carding people and taking tickets and the two who were cleaning theatres.

It was horrible.

…I may as well also note that I’ve been clicking around on Wikipedia in another window, and scrolled through an article where my thoughts were: “Oh? What’s tha–? Oh. Oh. No. Nope. That’s not okay.”

I’ve made a terrible mistake of looking through music that I’m not familiar with, and stumbled upon a band listing themselves as “industrial splatter porno pop”. I’d say maybe it’s time to stop reading in that direction. (Although now I’m concerned that my iTunes thinks I might be interested in this music. x_x)

Another problem I have with this description: how can you be industrial and pop? Am I making too fine a distinction? I didn’t think those two genres had a lot of overlap… *shrug*

(Really, we should probably just be glad that I’m taking a break from Rome and Musikkops recordings.)

My dad was funny the other day when he had to take me to get my new license…every time he hears just about any Goth music, he always asks if it’s “that one you went to see in Chicago”.
Me: No, dad. There’s more than one Goth band out in the world…

I should go easy on him. At least he likes Voltaire.

Aaand…in another window…we didn’t book my flight in time, so two days later, everything is about $30 more. Ugh. I looked around the site she asked if I’d search on, but…literally everything is about that price or more…up to $2000+. (I wonder what you get on a $2000 flight that you don’t get on a $450 one. I MUST KNOW! D:)

Going back to music: I have mentioned many times before (not recently though), but one of my favourite bands is a South African (relocated to the US a few years ago) band called The Awakening. Their vocalist also has a solo project, and I think it was maybe two years ago that Ashton Nyte released an album in Afrikaans. It’s…Idk…peculiar to hear. I think maybe the only other place I’ve ever even heard Afrikaans is maybe in District 9, but I forget if that was just subtitled in places because of the characters’ thick accents, as was the case in Chappie.


Welp. I think I need to send K a quick email about my lack of success, and then go sleep. And maybe also listen to a song 10 times more and be disappointed that I can’t share a link to it because the video is not so okay. (Not bad enough to warrant a connection to “industrial splatter porno pop” though. Yikes. x_x”)

hearing voices


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Got my driver’s license renewed. Bloody tired now because I’ve been sleeping really poorly the last few nights (so this will be short).

K didn’t text me to confirm a ticket, so I’m feeling a little anxious (what if she reconsidered? -_-“).

Jester seems unhappy with me, but I don’t think I know why. He seems upset that I don’t tell people every time we are spending time together. But any time we go out, he’s already posted it on FB before I would even think of saying anything…so doesn’t that mean I don’t need to? Idk. I don’t get what exactly he is wanting from me. :/

My boss was excited to see me today because he’d seen a video of a rubber band Gatling gun and knew I needed to be told that this was a thing that exists somewhere. It was glorious.

I saw a preview today for a movie that I didn’t have any interest in…but then…there was this voice for a character that you don’t see, and I was like, “wait…who is…? I know that voice…”

How surprising that it was so, and that I did know who it was after all. Because despite the business I work in, I am not very good at identifying people in movies. I know a handful who’ve had big movies or multiple ones in the last couple of years, but that’s about it. I am blissfully unaware of most of them, and most of the ones I do kind of recognize, it would be by their picture and not their voice.

Except that this is the voice that cheered me up while I was delivering drinks, and told me the fairy tale that I already knew, and the one which earned me all those outraged looks from the film club because I confessed that character sounded too friendly for me to straight-up hate them.

It’s the one I hear when I remember that she asked me to learn to talk that way, always asking me the same question, “What have you heard?” And which seems really to want to know.

And now…I have little enough interest in this movie, but I want to see it anyway. So that I can have heard it again.


*subject change*


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I read an article today that someone had posted on Facebook about how the roller coaster park is more at fault than the patron in question was for his climbing a fence into a restricted area and getting killed.

The primary interviewee for the article had a PhD in some sort of psychology, and consulted with such-and-such places about safety issues, etc…

Overall, his point seemed to be that corporations are responsible for thinking of the worst, stupidest thing that someone could do, and assuming that they will do it. Obviously, they must take all precautions to protect us from how moronic we are. (I should post the link, but I am lazy. Let me know if you wish to see it.)

It makes me feel ill to think that I live in a world where we have to operate under those assumptions.

(The same world, btw, where people were cross with movie theatre chains for deciding to not screen The Interview this past winter–if businesses have to assume that we are so stupid that we will climb into an area where we might be killed or seriously injured, then we have to assume that terrorists will carry out their threats.)

Of course, maybe we only operate this way in America. Which is also embarrassing, considering how many employees from all over the world work summer jobs at that particular park. (Hey, rest-of-the-world, come work a summer in America and see how insufferably stupid we are!)

*subject change*

The other day at the park, Jester was talking about music and movies, and one of the things he said was that sometimes he wishes he could watch or hear them for the first time again and recapture those feelings…

I see what he means, I suppose. But I feel it more with books. Because there are so many good stories that I can’t forget sufficiently for them to be engrossing to me after multiple reads. I’d gladly go back and read them for the first time again…

*subject change*

I have been thinking about the overarching theme in Game of Thrones, since I’ve re-read most of them again this summer.
I feel like, if you apply dragonfire and boil the books down to their core theme, you would see they are about disappointment. There is no happiness, or if there is, it is lucky to last for more than a chapter. There is no goal achieved without so much loss that you wonder if it was worth it. And I see that GRR Martin wants to give his books something of a “medieval realism” (except with actual dragons and monsters), but is that the way life is? Only disappointments and schemes that don’t work out the way you’d planned?

I’d like to think not. But what do I know?

*subject change*

Do you ever remember hearing a song…and you liked it well enough, but it doesn’t match your mood at all, and instead of listening to the song purely for pleasure, you find yourself critiquing bits of it? (Knowing full well that you have no musical talent yourself, of course.)

There is a song that I found that…I can see myself liking it in the proper circumstances…but…omg. The melodrama. It’s almost too much.

I enjoy a fair number of songs with what could be described as emotional deliveries, but…I know that nobody only records one take of a song. Everyone knows it. So to choose to use the take where you can scarce get the words out for the emotion…come on. I can’t fathom how that decision was ultimately made.

(my Wolf: Wow. Really? You, sir, are really hamming this one up.)

I must try hard to forget that I heard it.

*subject change*

Ehrmagerd. K is getting my ticket tomorrow. (I love being an imported thing.) Now I have to re-mould myself. Which I have two months to do…be exactly the way I have depicted myself to her over the last few years.


…of course, that is why I must find my fangs (I got tired and just went to bed last night). Because that, at least, would be something familiar. Something from the last me that she saw. (Is that an okay thing? That she probably remembers me most as vampire-me?) Also, she wants me to help decorate for Halloween (that must be the real reason they have me out to visit…because they don’t know how to Halloween), so if I am to help decorate and hand out candies at their first Halloween in their new house, I should probably figure out how to do it right.

(I did promise her an accent, so there’s that. Because she asked me back in spring to do it, so I’ve been working on it, bit-by-bit…it’s definitely not good enough.)

I’ll think more about this later.

*subject change*

I got a post card today.

It was from the government.

My driver’s license expired, and I never look at it, so I didn’t realize it expired on my birthday.

You know. Last month.

Obviously, I should start drinking, since they can’t sell to me with an expired ID, so I would’ve found out that much sooner.

So tomorrow I will get up a bit earlier than I usually would, and go on what will probably be a merry trip with my father to the DMV (here, Wolf wishes for a sarcasm font) so that I can get a new license with a photo of myself wherein I no longer have black hair.

*last subject change*

I find it odd that my older employees don’t believe that I am a Goth, while my younger ones look me over when I say this and go, “yeah, I can see it”.

Now. Bed.

little, exciting things


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Oh. Hello, Poland.

How nice to have a visitor whose encrypted search terms brought them to my interweb journal.


In the stream meaningless, small things that happen…but that are exciting to people who are fans of whomever did the small, meaningless thing…I made a dumb, grammar/spelling complaint and got facebook comments from Laird Barron. It’s at least a little bit exciting to get likes and comments from a writer I admire, even if I am certain that nobody I know has heard of him (except maybe from me).


Also: K read my email (which, after I read it again, it could have used some SERIOUS revision and clarification…oh well. she knows what I meant, I’m sure), and texted me while I was closing up the theatre…and she wants to import me to WA for a few days.


If I did little happy dances or something, I would have done one.
I’d love to go see her and Jon for a few days, you know…since I haven’t seen them since fall of 2011. Just phone calls now and then and lengthy emails about work, our SOs, pets, and bizarre interests that one can’t share with normal people… o.O

I never get to see my best friends, so this is like Christmas come early. How can I refuse? (Spoilers: I can’t.)
Heh. My music player is like, “Christmas? Here’s a winter song you didn’t actually ask for…”

That’s all I’ve got for now.

Time to take another stab at emailing the wedding coordinator.
And to look for my costume fangs.
And pay some bills.



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Remember in The Two Towers movie, when Merry and Pippin see not just Treebeard, but all the ents moving together through the forest? That sort of creeped me out the first time I saw that scene. And ever since, when I am walking and there are trees, I sometimes ask myself if any of them look remotely frightening. Because trees aren’t scary…

But I went to the park not so long ago (not when I went with my sister), and took a path I hadn’t really bothered with before…you have to go quite a ways down, but there are a lot of oaks all growing together in one stretch of it. And for trees…they are kind of intimidating in a dark, ugly way.

Don’t misunderstand. I like oak trees. By themselves. In fields, perhaps. Or in a grassy area of a park (Jester likely doesn’t remember, but we went to a park once specifically because I wanted to look at a tree that I’d seen a hundred times when we drove past), but in groups they manage to look dark and dense and like if they aren’t hiding something that will get you, they’ll do it themselves.

Naturally, I’d like to go back and look at them again sometime.

Jester and I did go walk today, so that was nice. No new mosquito bites to go with the one on my jaw. Also nice.

He talked a lot about music. He talked lots and lots. And that’s alright. About movies he watched growing up. And music belonging to specific feelings or memories. And that’s so. It does.

It’s not quite the same, but I’ve been thinking about a different aspect of music. Of and on. And it’s not so much the pleasure of listening, but of singing.

Because one thing I most enjoy is knowing the sounds of a song and the particular inflections of the singer’s voice so well that, after trying and trying and trying, I finally reach a point where I can sing along and, now and then, get that eerie moment of harmonization. It’s incredibly difficult to create because a lot of artists I like have voices that don’t lend themselves to that sort of thing, but sometimes I can get it just right…it never ceases to fascinate me. I feel like trying to produce that effect has improved the sound of my own singing voice, which is nice because I am frequently annoyed by the sound of my speaking voice.

Ah well.
I’ve some emails to send.

K bombarded me with texts, and I must apologise for not telling her important things…that may take me some time to write…


interruptions and toppings


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Today’s lesson:

When you have a horrible guest who has interrupted you about 25 times when you begin to answer their question, just stop. Just stop until they finally finish repeating themselves for the hundredth time. Then give it a moment. Just enough of a moment to be awkward. And before you start wasting your breath, request confirmation that they would actually like you to answer their question. And maybe then you will get to say your bit and get them out of everyone’s face.

My favourite part of dealing with this woman (she was upset that we carded her son for an R rated film) was that after getting in my face and my employee’s face, and after interrupting me every time I tried to explain our policy…she had the audacity to commend me for never being rude or raising my voice at her.

That annoys me. I feel like she is either completely stupid and had no idea just how threatening her own tone and body language were, or worse…she DOES know, and she knows it’s not right to act that way with people.


…and because I’m curious: what on earth kind of mother thinks her children don’t need some kind of photo ID? She told me (because it is SO relevant to her complaint) that her older son is going off to college soon and has never had any form of state ID.

Well. Alright.
I’m positive he will never encounter ANY situations in college where he might need something like that… *shrug* None of my business, I suppose.

…and in keeping with my tendency to abruptly change the subject: here is an entertaining time we had, talking about hot dogs.

Mike T: Why don’t we have any more mayo packets?

Tyler: Because we’re getting rid of the only item that shit goes on.

Me: We still have hot dogs.

Tyler: That’s gross. You don’t put mayo on hot dogs.

Me: Well, I don’t eat mayonnaise, so you’re right there. But I also don’t eat hot dogs. I was just saying our guests might.

Tyler: That’s just wrong. Nobody should do that. *pause* Did you know that the National Hot Dog Association says that nobody over the age of 10 should even be using ketchup on hot dogs?

Me: This is the first I’ve heard of such an association.

Mike T: Can we get another topping to replace the mayo? Like onions?

Tyler: Onions can go fuck themselves.

Me: That’s pretty hostile.

Blair: Oh, I HATED the dressed hot dogs we served at my old theatre.

Me: Yeah, okay. At least our toppings were self-serve. I still didn’t enjoy portioning out giant tubs of diced onion. *considers* But the sauerkraut? That was the worst. You spilt that on yourself and you’d get to spend the rest of your shift sad and gross.

Mike T: Sauerkraut? You guys served sauerkraut?

Tyler: Yep. Those were the days.

Me: *to Mike* You seem unduly excited about that.

Mike T: I was just thinking–if you wanted to smell like an actual Nazi…

Me: Where are the rubber bands so I can shoot you again?

Tyler: So your perception of Nazis is that they just bathe in sauerkraut?

Mike T: That sounds so German. *dodges a rubberband* I can’t think of anything else that sounds more German.


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