So I'm still here. Starting classes at Portland State University next week. Yay me. The logistics are enough to make a supply sargent wet his pants and cry like a baby. However, I refuse to give up, give in or go home. I am going to see this through. I don't care if I have to sleep under the Burnside bridge and someone steals my shoes. I have to do this. I have to make this happen because I am the otter of my own fat.

I've been really stressed out--not sleeping or eating for days at a time. My sister and Travis got kind of worried about me.

I don't know I guess these kinds of situations are ultimately useful because they make you evaluate what's important to you. I have thought to myself: why the hell do I have a myspace account? It's such a load of crap. I've been seriously considering deleting it.

I think about the people I have contacted lately...the people who have helped me through some of the stress and worry. Thank you, all of you, for listening or helping or tolerating me.

Oh my god....I am rambling horribly.

Anyway- point being- I have had a sort of bastardization of Occam's Razor applied to my life wherein the law of parsimony...a frugality of relationships...has become apparent. What is left is precious because it survived trial by fire. I think that's what I mean, anyway.

For god's sake--if you don't like me and/or don't speak to me PLEASE delete my ass. Why on earth would you keep someone as a "friend" if they aren't?

Where are the clothes for fucking fat girls??? That's right--I said fat. Where exactly does one go when one has "too much booty for one man to handle"? ESPECIALLY if you don't want to do matching outfits with Grandma. I like punky clothes. I *love* plaid and I love a bunch of other stuff that I can *never* find in my size. (Or even in the same fucking ballpark as my size.) I *demand* awesome clothes and I demand them now. I want to see Jeffrey Sebellia (sp?) designing for my fat ass. No, I am probably not going to ever  be a size 4. No one who fucking eats is. I *suppose* I could become a crankwhore just so I can wear cool clothes, but I don't think so Tim.

Maybe I'll start a twitter account and force the corporate bastards to listen to me. Maybe not.

On a shelf sits a dish--
filled with broken shards.
Every piece is still there--
an encapsulated microcosm
of what was--
but now is not.

Should I glue the shards--
forcing them into the old shape?
Can I bear to look upon it
with its cracks and crevices,
bearing testimony to its fault lines,
and its erstwhile hidden flaws?

Should I leave it broken--
destroyed beyond recognition--
never to be what once it was?
Can I bear to look upon its
broken, crumbled pieces,
bearing testimony to its destruction?

Frozen in indecision--
fearful of my own frailties--
the dish remains on the shelf.
My eyes try to slide past--
I attempt to ignore its
ignoble, ruined state.
But I cannot.

I know. It's been forever since I posted anything. I am pulling 15 credits this term, which I know is nowhere near suicidal Amy's 37 credits or whatever it was she took, but still, a lot for me. One of the classes is Math 111 (College Algebra), which gives me the heebie-jeebies on principal alone. So school is pretty intense and I have been a very studious little me with my nose to the homework grindstone. Just ask Tina who has told me I have been ditching her lately.

I had a couple wisdom teeth pulled. So that hurts. We took Sabrina to the opthamologist and she ended up with reading glasses, which she has already lost. We attended yet another meeting dealing with Darius's needs. I am really sick of meetings. Why do we have to sit around talking about how to help him and filing paperwork about how to help him. Can't we just help him? Apparently budget cuts may include a special education instructor. I would love to see that happen because it is illegal for someone without special education certification to teach special needs children. Did someone say lawsuit?

I am hoping to go on a couple fieldtrips with Sabrina. Most of her life Mommy's worked for ECA and I could never go. Callista is her usual adorable self. We were at the bookstore picking up more Magic Treehouse books for Sissy and she picked out Green Eggs and Ham. She totally loves it and pretty soon I will be able to recite it on command.

Anyway, I graduate this June. I've already mailed in my app sent off my official transcript. I want to get into the History Dept's honors program. I need Latin and French or Latin and German. I would rather do French because I want my specificity to Occitania and I would eventually like to learn Occitan. Oooh. Maybe I could work with Linda Paterson at the Uni of Warwick. *pant* *pant*

As my besheret is fond of saying:

non illegitimi carburandum

Until next time...

This is it. January 17th. The feast day of St. Sulpice and St. Anthony of Egypt. Why is it so special? I'm not quite sure. I have some theories about certain other dates, but this particular one is a conundrum. I've puzzled and puzzled till my puzzler was sore. What is it about January 17th? Or perhaps it's not the date but the saints themselves.

St. Anthony of Egypt lived in Alexandria (hmmm....). Anyway St. Anthony of Egypt is not to be confused with St. Anthony the Hermit--although this is completely understandable since apparently St. Anthony of Egypt founded monasticism and was one of the first hermits of the church.

St. Sulpicius or St. Sulpice the Pious (who should not be confused with St. Sulpice the Severe) was a man who devoted himself to helping the poor. He renounced the idea of marriage. He became the Bishop of Bourges in 624. Where is Bourges? Why, it's in Aquitaine, in the Languedoc. And the see of Bourges? Why, it was founded by one St. Ursinus. Legend said that St. Ursinus was sent by original Apostles of the Christ to preach in Gaul. Unfortunately, he is now dated to the third century. Also of note is that St. Sulpice the Pious held the Bishopric of Bourges under Dagobert I, may he rest in peace.

Altogether very interesting Saints. Happy Feast Day to them!

Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbor. Ex. 20:16

You know, I am not really the bible-thumping, evangelical type--but hypocrisy inflames me and makes me see red. (Not that I'm a fire sign or anything...) Some disgusting majority of Americans are Christian, which in and of itself is fine. They want to slap the ten commandments up in every classroom right next to the flag. That's fine, too. But, if you're going to claim to be a bible believing Christian (which are the kind that seem to like the ten commandments best) shouldn't you actually *live* according to those commandments?

The ninth commandment is the one listed above. It is also perhaps one of the most misunderstood and bastardized of the commandments. Let us break it down piece by piece and maybe we can come to a greater understanding of the hypocrisy involved...

Thou= you (yes, that means you!)

Shalt= now this is an interesting word. Most people are unsure as to the proper use of the word shall. Shall is actually an imperative and the meaning meant here is "ought to" or "must".

Not= a negative which impacts the verb shall. Together- "ought to not" or "must not"

Bear= to bring forward, to carry

False= intentionally untrue, intending to mislead, intent to deceive

Witness= one who attests to a fact or event

Against= in opposition to, as a basis for disapproval of

Thy= your (yes, your!)

Neighbor= Ah. Another interesting word. Many people try to use this word to exclude people. They try to make it mean 'only my co-religionists' or 'only my fellow countrymen'. However, although it can mean near dweller the meaning meant here is fellow man. Other members of the human race.

So the meaning of this commandment is that you must not deceive others about a fact or event as a basis for disapproval of your fellow humans or a particular fellow human. This commandment does NOT mean thou shalt not lie. You can bear false witness as you tell the truth. People do that all the time. "I only told the truth!" Really? Or did you tell just enough truth to obfuscate the facts?

So have we cleared the air? Do we all understand now what bearing false witness means? Gosh I sure hope so. Because nothing makes me madder than people who would never, ever lie and who would only tell "God's honest truth" while they stab their neighbor in the back.

Thank you fans for tuning in yet again. The last time we left our heartbreaking beautiful heroine, Nancy, she was dealing with life and stuff. This time our heartbreaking beautiful heroine, Nancy, is dealing with life and stuff. She is sitting and eating dinner with her dark, mysterious boyfriend, Travis, when a terrible thought occurs to her--does her shirt clash with her eyes? Quickly, she rises and goes to the restroom. No, the shirt does not clash with her eyes. It gives her a deep, intense look that she decides suits her. Catastrophe averted, she returns to her table and the dark, mysterious Travis who is listening intently to his iPod and the music that he has downloaded for sampling purposes only. Nancy sips her cola when an overwhelming feeling of dread swoops over her. The cola is flat. There is nothing more wretched that flat pop. Stoically, she tries to soldier on but eventually she is forced to flag down the waitress. Drat! The waitress is her ex-girlfiend, Irina. The Russian accent had been sexy at first, but once Nancy realized there was nothing behind those silver eyes all the "dushenka"s in the world could not save their relationship. The sad part was that Irina never could understand why it hadn't worked out. She is still madly in love with Nancy, and honestly, who could blame her? She glares daggers at the dark, mysterious Travis and then turns her liquid silver eyes to Nancy. "Da, my Anja? What can I get you?" "Um...nothing. I'm fine, thanks." "You are sure? Anything you are needing I am getting." "Yeah, yeah. Never mind." Irina's silver eyes register her disappointment. "Okay then." Nancy watches Irina's firm, round booty swish as she walks away and has to remind herself that it isn't worth it. She glances at Travis but he hasn't noticed. Not that he would care, but she doesn't want to put up with the teasing. Nancy sighs and sips again at her flat pop. Why can't life be easy? Why can't the cuties with the booties have a brain in their head? Why do I care? Why can't I just fuck the stupid b!&$%$ and not worry? It is difficult to be so beautiful, so smart and so discerning. *sigh*

Aaugh!!!! I hate people who say "I don't mean to be rude, but..." because they *do* mean to be rude. They are trying to make it seem like they are attempting to be polite. However, they are not attempting to be polite. They are attempting to be rude and get away with it. I hate obnoxious rude people.  So give it up rude people.

The Fool sees but is blind

The Fool hears but is deaf

The Fool speaks but says nothing

The Fool walks along the edge--He is in danger but knows it not. Every sense is Speaking to him but will he Listen? You must see with your heart, listen with your mind and speak with your soul. Awake! Take off the veil and see that which truly is--not merely the illusion. You must do this yourself, no one else may help you. It is not their journey, it is not their task. Good luck and Godspeed.

Did you know that the scrapbook store in the Oakway Center in Eugene does not carry lesbian wedding scrapbook supplies? Also the Hallmark in the same mall does not carry lesbian wedding cards. We were directed to the "inspirational" section which had a lot of cards on depression and coping. Was there a subtle message there? I am not really sure...

What I am sure is that if you are a lesbian and you are way into scrapbooking then you'll have to get your supplies elsewhere. Maybe online.

Also--I have come to the conclusion that my life is a series of vignettes in which I am searching for a cheese grater.

Also--Sometimes a "yumm bowl" isn't.

Also--Sleepy, Cuddly, Mmmm sounds really good right now.

Also--I have never before dreaded History. Please don't let that happen.

Also--You never realize what a nice basic function swallowing is, until you aren't able to.

I need hugs! Yes, that was a demand. I am demanding hugs. I am a demented pirate with an insatiable cuddle factor.