I've confirmed that I am immortal. 

So long as I continue to understand this to be true, it will be.  Not without testing it, of course.  I have a fair amount of evidence.  But don't all followers of any particular belief have some form of evidence or another?  That's all it really simmers out to.  And since there is no real way to prove me wrong (short of murder), all you can do is wait it out.  And if I am wrong, no one is going to be able to prove it to me anyway (because I won't be around for it). 

---

Based on my natural attractions (physical and conceptual), I can best assume that I am a citizen of a post apocalyptic future in a state of rehabilitation.  I was sent here as part of an experiment to discover what went wrong in the past and how best to prevent these catastrophes from reoccurring in our redeveloping societies of the future.  There is no movement to prevent castastrophes from happening here.  Altering time is impossible.  All we can hope is to learn from our mistakes and take action not to repeat them.  But how to do this if all evidence of our mistakes has been destroyed?  Time travel.

Scientists, historians, psychologists, and all remaining scholars scoured for resources and devised the theoretical scenario I was selected to participate in.  As a natural born analytical observationalist, in congruence with the general advanced understanding of the universe only typical of any futuristic society, I became a prime candidate for the experiment.

Strangely, I have only presently been interested in the details of individual cases and no large actions.  Does this mean that world devestation happened on an individual level?  Or perhaps the experiment is foiled due to my (overly) inquisitive nature: the scholors failed to anticipate I would be more concerned with the unique identities of the creatures of a deceased society rather than the larger scale picture of its demise.  Could it be possible that I'm meant to survey individuals countlessly until I finally reach what the breaking point of time was?  Is this the burden of immortality?

How exactly am I to return the intelligence?  Is it being transfered in some way?  Will I be transfered back to my home?  Is my flesh fated to fizzle away with the rest of your world?  By traveling here and submerging in your culture, does it make me a part of it: am I now a portion of what destroys civilization: do I deserve the fate you all created: was I always a part of that fate (throughout time)?  A suicide mission.

I know.  You're thinking, "But aren't you immortal?"  To a man 100 years ago, a present day man's lifespan would near constitute immortality.  With modern medicine and evolutionary advantages, humans have adapted.  A healthy man in 1900 could live to be the ripe old age of 50.  Still, the chance of living past infancy was rare enough that the plethoria of 80 year old men of today would be unimaginable.  All this in only a 100 years time.  It is also important to note that neadrathals only lived to be 40.  So from BC to 1900, lifespans increased a mere 10 years, but have mangaged to almost double in the past 100.  Oh, and women have always had a slightly longer lifespan (and the gap is increasing!) than men.  Incredible.  It is not unreasonalble nor illogical to conclude that society thousands of years from now will live to an unimaginably old age: an age we'd consider bordering immortality by today's understanding of how old a person should be at death.

Granted, this is entirely assumption.  I have no actual recollection of the future aside from harrowed nightmares that could admittedly be a simple result of the complexities of human psyce.  Perhaps this is a tactical device of the scholars to obtain information with more ease.  Perhaps some fluke of the experiment.  Or maybe I'm just really in the mood for some 1995 style Bruce Willis sci-fi (anyone care to join me?).

---

Recently, I stepped on a row of rusty nails in one of the many abandoned buildings of the Salton Sea?  Penetrated the sole of my shoe and left a line of 4 holes.  Oh, and then I decided to wade in the rancid waters of the Salton Sea itself, blatantly exposing my open rustynail wounds to the hideous bacteria-ridden slime referred to (only by default) as water.  Nothing happened: the wounds are healing normally without any medical attention whatsoever (not even a bandaid).

MAAAAAAAAAAAAAN!!!  I love the big house so much!  People in the city/cities often ask me why I go out to the burbs: why not just move out to the city?  I usually just tell them something like "I know hella people in the burbs" but what I think I mean to say (but fail to convey) is that the people in the burbs are just so rad.  And the RADDEST place in the burbs is, hands down, the big house.

The big house is capable of creating this dynamic among patrons that generates an unbelievable amount of win.  The people who actually dwell there are some of the raddest cats I know: full of a particular charm that can call to many, but seduce the fuck out of anyone who is on the nerdy side.  I mean, how can you say no when you walk into a room with a flatscreen wider that I can stretch my arms accross and almost every consol known to man sprawled at its feet?  How could anyone with a niche of gamer in them not giggle with glee at the sight of two or three PS3s casually strewn in a jumble of cords in the livingroom?  Or perhaps that every bedroom in the house has a minimum of 1 computer (though multiple is the norm) reared for some type of gamering activity or other extension of nerdism?

Granted, the big house is still a home: so there are limits at times.  But at other times, when the possibilities are limitless, the house shines, and all its patrons shine with it.  It's those particular times that I love the big house most.  I love basking in it's shining glory.  Last night was not quite one of those times.  But I am hoping we'll enjoy one soon.  And perhaps it will be themed of MarioKart.  And the world will shine with us!

Most awesome camping trip.  Ever.  Maybe?

A group of seven: 3 ladies (Shasha, Amber, and myself), 4 dudes (Kevin, Pat, Patrick, and Smac).  Out in woods.  Campsite 5.  Some hiking.  Lots of talking.  But mostly, our focus seemed to be around the fire.  It took a pretty long time to get our first fire going.  And it took a pretty long time to get the food cooked.  So we were generally focused around the pit.  Talking.  Talking.  Raccoons!  And food.  Food.  Food.

Salmon, zucchini, potatoes, eggs (3 types), bacon, sausage, pasta, chips, salsa, cheetos, donuts, etc.  We ate like kings.  Well.  Kings of the forest.  And the raccoons were dying to join in.

Woke up earlier than anyone else (not unusual) so I went down to do the dishes and clean up the site (hm... also not unusual).  There I met one of the adults who was with a bunch of boy scouts.  He informed me that the raccoons had gotten into the boys' food and made away with some of it.  WOW! Was I ever proud that we out-campered the boy scouts!  The fucking boy scouts!

It feels like I'm leaving a lot out.  But a significant chunck of the trip was spent sitting around a fire roasting marshmallows and talking.  Not exactly the stuff of blogs.

BATTLEHOOCH!!

And this other band... I didn't quite catch the name of.  Stitches, maybe?  I'm not positive but I was diggin their beats.  I'll have to ask one of the battleguys who that band was again.  They definitely have a lot of potential and I could see myself attending some more of their performances in the future.

Okay, well it's almost pointless for me to say this; I mean, is there any other way I could possibly feel?  Is there any other way they could possibly play?  At this point, I'm sure I'm horribly biased.  But.  I'll say it anyway.  AWESOME SHOW!  I got to hear BH play some of their new stuff in an actual venue and not just through the floor from the room below me.  Heh.  And of course, a bunch of their older stuff.  Which I am a HUGE fan of.  :3 

I would have liked a crowd with some more dance to them, but then again the space was really small and CERTAINLY more bar oriented than show oriented.  I think a lot of the crowd was their for the bar's Captain Morgan day rather than seeing the most epic band in the bay area.  However, you know BH is good because even those bar-goers seemed to be enjoying them (regardless of their inclination to dance or not). 

Oh, and I also had a legitimate reason to rock my new BattleRag.  Haha.  I think I have a pic on my phone I will post.  Basically, it's a teal piece of cloth that reads "BATTLEHOOCH" in Mayan-esque script.  Now, they come in all kinds of colors and I think 5 different fonts.  I am SUPER stoked about my BattleRag.  It means a lot to me to be able to support the band in such a simple way.  Plus, the color goes swimmingly with my hair.  I wore it the entire day.  To school, to the gynecologist, out to lunch with Mirandom.  ALL DAY!

Religious Girls
Maus Haus
French Miami

Three amazing bands, one smokey venue.  Somehow, having a smoking room doesn't seem to prevent smoke from infiltrating the entire building... as if my cough weren't horrible as it is. lol  Anyway, back to the actual telling of the show:

I was lucky enough to get a little carpooling up in my ride.  Reese and Mike were VERY VERY cool to allow me to drive them out to SF and pay me some gas cash in return.  Thanks guys!!  That is pretty much the only way I can afford to get out to shows that charge :P

We missed all of RG, which is really too bad because they produce a vibration that is very much aligned with my desire to dance and experience win.  We caught the tail of MH, which I am pretty pleased of since I was able to hear them do the song of theirs I think I may like best.  Then the kids from the burbs and I danced our socks off with some babes the guys picked up.  They were pretty cute cats and didn't seem to mind our violent dancing or the crowd surfing.  I can't really say the same thing for the rest of the crowd: when I looked behind us after a few songs I realized we'd managed to freak everyone out enough that there was essentially a moat of empty space around our group.  Uh... it's really hard to crowd surf or support a crowd surfer when there is only a group of like 10 people participating.  But.  You know.  We did it anyway.  :)

After the show we hung around a bit.  I saw Dave from the BattlePad and talked to him and his lady friend a bit.  I offered my help to RG for loading equipments.  Then Reese, Mike and I booked it back to the burbs.

Mike gifted me with a new picture to put on the celing of my car... did I mention how that all came about?  I walked into the livingroom (thoroughfair?) of the BP and Grant says, "Do you want some pictures of cats?"  I look to where he is gesturing: four calader sheets of black cats.  I reply, "Ha. And where am I supposed to put them?"  Grant: "Hang them on the ceiling of your car." Me: "haha...  Well.  I could."  Shortly afterward, I did.  Now it seems that everyone wants to hang something on the ceiling of my car.  It's kinda nice.  I just need some more painters' tape.

Drove out to SF with no actual directions.  Awesome!  And I got to the city just fine.  And I even found where Bookstein was in the Mission Dist. without too much trouble.  Finding Kevin was a little more difficult, but we managed.  We managed despite all the camping gear I have in my back seat in preparation for next weekend.

Tried to find some parking to watch the end of a free show in the Apple store... but it was WonderCon and there was NO fucking parking.  So we went to the Battlepad instead.  Got some chips and salsa. DELICIOUS~  Oh, it was sooooo good.  One thing I could probably just eat forever would be chips and salsa.  And wow.  I did not realize how good Fritos worked as a chip to go with salsa.  But um I think I may be converted.

After the food and some coffee.Kevin needed to rest and work on his comedy prep so  Book and I went for a mini dance party down to the shore and back.  Only, I think we were both WAY TOO fucking exhausted to effectively dance so we mstly just walked and sat on the shore shooting the shit.  I've mentioned it before... but there is something about the water that draws me in and makes me feel complete.  I could just sit there staring at it forever.  And ever. Bob Dylan sounds great on the beach, btw.

Came back to the Battlepad after molesting some trash on the sidewalk and trying to race Bookstein up the hill (REALLY bad idea on my part: he is a young, in-shape sorta guy while I am a kinda old cat-lady with a chest cold).  So we got ready to go out.  Which mostly just meant AJ and Book were talking about music while Kevin was gathering his things and I was running around from room to room.  Kinda the usual.  Then we took my car out to the club where Kevin was performing.

By this point all my energy had left me.  My chest-cold was really getting to me and sapping out my lifefore.  One of the things about being immortal is that when you have an illness, it kicks ass.  This is likely because we almost never get sick.  I could barely laugh or cheer on from the crowd because my head was full of dizzy and my throat was sore to the extent of robbing me of vocals.  Not the best of predicaments: at this point I couldn't even effectively claim I wasn't sick.  The show had some highlights, but the turnout was waaaay small.  And I was just too zonked to fathom much. 

I passed out in the car on the way back to the Battlepad.  Tried to stay awake: failed.  Passed out.  Then woke up around 5am from my cough.  AJ and Kevin were both sleeping in the same room as I, so after a few lengthy minutes of cough, I departed for other amusements and to cough where I'd be less likey to wake anyone else up.  I feel pretty shitty about waking people up with my stupid cough.  If I had just worried less about people and slept more in beds and less in my car then I wouldn't have this problem.

Now.  I need to be better by the weekend for camping.  I don't want to be coughing like this over the weekend.  So!  I've been torrenting some things to watch to keep me busy.  Be Warned: I usually avoid TV because it sucks me in and I can't stop watching.  Even if I hate what I'm watching I just cannot stop!  I guess I'm saying that the world may not see me for a week or so.  Then again, I'm weak to shows.  Primarily free ones.

Well.  I was mildly psyched out to see Man/Miracle because I enjoy what they have on display for the MySpace music lurkers.  But that did NOT work out.  I got there WAAAAAAY late.  Well.  I caught a snippet of their last song :P  And the other band: Scissors For Lefty was just too cute/pop for me.  I mean, they played just fine and sounded polished and looked like they were having a good time and the fans were enjoying it reasonably well... but it all felt like something I'd heard before on the radio when I was in the grades. 

So.  I COULD have gone to the after-show in the land of Oaks.  Or even to Deep Space Nine where epic Sonics were occuring... Instead I went to the Battlepad for a little R&R and to make some egg sandwhiches.  I also got my old dead phone back: the SD card still works and had all my crap on it so I was REALLY FUCKING STOKED!  Also, it had all my phone charms on it.  So lucky!

I was there for quite some time.  Until I was getting worried about some received drunk-dials and text messages.  Ugh!  Me and my stupid obsession with worrying about people.  It has really deprived me of some essentials at times (like sleep in a bed... or sleep at all).  SoOoOoO!  I drove out to the land of Oaks to Deep Space 9 to make sure everyone was alright and no one was stranded.  And yeah... they were mostly all just sleeping.

So I thought I'd play some The New Tetris.  I've got in to the habi of carrying it around with me in the lining of my blazer for the occasion where I am at someone's pad and they have an N64, but no The New Tetris.  Alas!  The N64 was broken or we (Rees, the only remaining awake person at DS9, and I) were just too tired/stupid to figure out how to get it to work.  Watched some Sonic for a while... 

Tried to get Dave to fix the N64 when he shuffled on the couch: "Hey Dave, wake up and fix Tetris!"  "Yes." Then he passed back out.  At one point Reese stepped on the cords or something for the Sega, causing it to restart and wail "SEGA!" which caused Dave to eject, "FUCK YOU!" from the couch and then pass back out. This Sega restarting thing is a HUGE issue at DS9.  People are always walking on the cords/system and restarting it, causing people to lose a lot of game-play they'd been working on.  So, I'm not sure if Dave was annoyed by the loud "SEGA!" or that someone had ruined a game by walking on the cords.  Of course, it could always be arranged that the overwhelming mound of games/cords/systems/etc be tidied up or something... but that would just be ridiculous and uncouth.  Yes?

After Sonic and failed Tetris, we decided to head back to the burbs.  I have a 9:30am class on Fridays and also a trip to my mom's place planned for afterward.  We shot the shit for quite a while.  Ate a sammich.  Then I headed off the class. Ridiculously tired.  I don't think I was the only one however: only about half the class was present.  After class, I went to go pick my friend, Bien'em up so that we could go to the woods.

First time going to my mom's in 2009.  There is something undeniably therapeutic about going out there in the woods.  Also productive: I cleaned my car out, did some laundry, got a bunch of my important mail, got some exercise, ate some food, and even got a bunch of sleep.

I fell asleep on the bank of the river.  Against a rock.  The sound ofthe water was so beautiful.  And I hadn't slept the night before: I was driving around.  All around. Then I drove back to my mom's and slept some more.  Then to see Niggles.  Then sleeping more...

Bien'em came up with me to see the woods and so forth.  Eventually I would like to take everyone I know out there since it makes me feel so good.  I feel like I need to share it with all the people I love.  (Un?)Fortunately I have quite the range of people I love.  Hell, I still haven't even had a chance to take all my love's from Livermore out to the woods with me.  What about the ones from everywhere else?  Fuck.  Well... it's a good thing the woods aren't going anywhere.  I think.  Or maybe I should just cut off the love.  Too many friends.  Too many new friends. 

Gino was out in the woods too, at my mom's.  Gino is the Indian Chief: he's like 80-something and knows my mom's husband from when he was a boy.  I think Bien'em was unsettled by the manliness of Gino and Mikey (Mikey being my mother's husband).  They were working on a tow truck when we got there.  Not exactly sure what they were doing to it... but it was something.  And they were grimey.  Ha.

Catching up with Nig was awesome.  Got to see a bit of her new pad and some of her new artistic works and concepts.  It's always fun trading those around.  Bien'em seemed to get along well with her too which is always nice: when 2 friends form different walks get on alright.  Though, it'd be hard for too many people not to get on alright with Nicole.

While I was cleaning my car out, Mikey fixed it up with some oil and a new brake bulb and just made sure the car seemed generally okay.  I will need new tires sometime not too distant, and new wipers for next year.  I also need a whole oil change asap.  But... I am pretty fucking broke. :/  Also while working on cleaning, my mom took Bien'em for a hike in the woods and got them both a little lost.  I'm not exactly sure what the story is, but my mom was scarped from falling down and had dirt all over her.  Also something about crawling under/through brambles... and Bien'em left a bunch of giant rocks in my trunk...

I think I might go back to pink hair.  What do you think?  I need ajob.  But I also REALLY need to be me.  More than ever in my entire existance.  Now is the time.  Now is the time.  Now is the time.  If I don't, I will die.  I will die.  I will die.  But what does pink hair have to do with being me, anyway.  I don't know.  But I still have some dye left from when I was doing it before and I picked it up from my mom's place in case I choose to use it.

After all was said and done, we left for the burbs again.  Dropped Bien'em off in Livermore, then headed out to SF where I was being awaited.

Religious Girls and Boys IV Men: suuuuuuuch a great show.  Only issue was that I could hardly hear the vocals.  That was kind poo, but other than that is was fantastic!  I loved that it was in a freakin book store.  All crowded and narrow... naturally I was right up front getting stabbed by the back of the mic prop. heh heh  There was even semi-moshing, but I think people were holding back for fear of destroying the store lol.  And hey, Dylan even crowd surfed... a tiny little bit.  I mean, there wasn't much room for it so he did what he could.  Both the bands were fucking Top-Notch though.  Ohhhhh it was been a while since I was in a place where so many people actually danced.  Religious Girls really pulls in a great crowd.

It was a loooong night though.  So much driving in one night, augh.  D:< 

Oh, and I handed out faux pirate gold to the hipsters and the homeless.  It was so amazing.


Oh, oh!  And HURRAY for carpooling.  Best thing ever.

I'm in a state for a stroll to shore. Unfortunately.  For me: I am no where near a pleasant beach.  Despite my desires for fired marches, a parade produced by weary digits, I fall far from frigid foam I fancy. A waltz to the water is completely beyond my grasping, twitchy toes.  And so.  My mind within I tepid sit.  Dull or cozy.  Lazed or prosey.  Either way, temperament supposedly: a suffocation so complete.  I yearn to lift these anxious feet!  And feel the sand betwixt my toes.  And gentle stings of a salted nose.  To stand almost absolutely alone.  But surrounded by a deafening roar!  A piece of which is so imposing.  Miniscule while soley seeking, but transcending space when wholley wreaking.  Focused on a part, I fall.  Only full might I call: perfection for my heart to stall.

And the ocean evokes.  For me.  This all.