A Busy Saturday Morning [15 Nov 2009|02:32pm] dbrycegh I brought Dwight (my accordion) to our Music Together class yesterday. I had worked up simple arrangements of three songs from the current songbook, and accompanied the class while they sang and danced. (I sang along where possible too, but was thinking too hard most of the time.) It was so much fun, I'm looking forward to doing it again sometime. I also want to bring the uke in at some point. After class we went to Verizon Wireless to look at the new Droid, which Laura went ahead and bought. (I'm officially jealous. I love my Samsung Flipshot, but man is that thing sexy.) The kids entertained the sales guys by pretending to talk on the dummy model phones throughout the store. One of the guys went in back and got a couple of discontinued models, and gave them to the kids as toys. They were so proud. They've been making pretend phonecalls on them ever since. Then, next door to Verizon is a Tae Kwon Do school, and they were celebrating their fourth anniversary with free food, demonstrations, a bounce house, and cake. The kids had a ball and wore themselves out. Riley was imitating the demonstrators, kicking and shouting an approximation of "hyah!" We got to thinking about how martial arts would teach a lot of the things that Riley needs most: confidence, discipline, focus. We spoke with the manager, and she was very supportive, saying they work with special needs kids all the time. She set Riley up with an instructor -- a teenage boy who surprised us by being really good with Riley. We signed Riley up for classes. He seems excited about it, we're hopeful he'll participate well. (Of course, as I typed this he was screaming his lungs out, in protest of being sent to "quiet time" for having screamed about having to wear non-preferred underwear because he wet his Spongebob ones. So we shall see. Rome wasn't built in a day and so on.) 4 comments|post comment

a short short story I wrote... or maybe part of a long short story that I'll never write [13 Nov 2009|06:33pm] mislih [ mood | allegorical ] [ music | Rammstein - Mehr ] "If you could wish for anything, what would it be?" she asked. "Hmm. I think I'd end world hunger," I said. "That's a waste of a wish," she said. "Really? What would you wish for?" I asked. "I'd wish for a thousand more wishes. Then I could get rid of hunger and still have nine hundred and ninety-nine wishes left," she said. "Wow, that's a good idea! What else would you wish for?" I asked. "I'll wish for food and clothes and make-up and a nice house and for people to make my food and wash my clothes..." she said. "You'd run out of wishes soon enough," I said. "Don't be silly! I can just wish for more wishes with my last wish," she said. "Oh, I didn't think of that," I said. "Of course you didn't, dummy. That's why you don't deserve to have all the wishes," she said. "Would you give me some of your wishes?" I asked. "No... but since we're friends I'll let you do something to earn a few wishes," she said. "Like what?" I asked. "You can clean my room or take the garbage out or brush my pony. By the way, I'll have a pony," she said. "Then I can wish for a thousand wishes!" I said. "No you can't. I won't let you. I'll wish you didn't have them," she said. "Why not?" I asked. "Because I want to be the one with all the wishes!" she said. "You're mean!" I said. "No I'm not. I'll wish I'm not mean," she said. "That's not fair," I said. "Doesn't matter. I can make you think it is," she said.   2 comments|post comment

Writer's Block: The Times They Are A-Changin’ [13 Nov 2009|12:39pm] violentfemmebot [ mood | complacent ] [ music | Blue Oyster Cult - "Tenderloin" ] Handmade cards to e-cards, caroling to MP3s… How has technology changed your holiday traditions? Sponsored by LifeScoop: Bringing You Tips for a Connected Lifestyle. View 152 Answers It hasn't, and it won't. Except that I'll be asking you all for your addresses right here over teh information superhighwayz so I can send you REAL LIFE Christmas cards!! If I don't have it, give it to me! (If you skimmed over this, I'll be asking again later, so . . don't worry, I'll get you! ;D) (And mp3 caroling? . . . really now? O_o;;) 4 comments|post comment

hang it on a shelf. [13 Nov 2009|03:20am] fr0w If I wrote online web comics, I'd write a comic strip about a guy who was being haunted by his dead girlfriend.. except he wasn't. When weird shit happens like the toilet seat slamming down suddenly and empty ceral bowls being left in the middle of the bedroom floor, find recycles in the trash and various other things that she did.. only it was him doing these things sometimes and other times just coincidental and circumstantial. He's just a sad lonely man, regretting the decisions he made, and living with the guilt of never treating her the way she should have been. It wouldn't really be funny or witty. Just sort of sad. and useless. I'm pretty sure no one would read it serially or even sporadically, just random people from mistaken google searches and maybe friends. I'd probably draw it myself, I mean since we're saying i could write it.. why not just draw it too.. ? I have a lot of these sort of good (but not really) ideas, that aren't worth doing because I'm just some guy who's too stubborn to admit the truth and would rather live in a world of dreams and make believe. on second thought, a web comic is too much for something like that.. maybe a poem or something... .. eh why not? not that I like poetry or will ever write it.. just why not add it to the list? 6 comments|post comment

into the crevice [11 Nov 2009|01:11am] fr0w if you ever thought i was a emotionally stable guy. you'd be wrong. i have some serious problems, and they only seem to get worse. the more i dig myself out, the deeper i get. wanna know about my day... well today wasn't really that bad. what made it suck is knowing how shitty tomorrow will be. (now technically today) I have to fix my car which i may or may not be able to do. (master clutch cylinder) and I have to go to work for four hours instead of hanging out with mandy like we planned. written down, it sounds totally fucking doable.. but trust me, the order and timing of a this and few other things today... total downer. I hate myself for complaining about the stupidest fucking things. I hate myself because I hate myself... 1 comment|post comment

This post is about sex! [08 Nov 2009|09:28am] mislih [ music | Serj Tankian - Praise The Lord And Pass The Ammunition ] Sometimes things make me angry; for example, this comment in postsecret. The comments will probably be gone in a week (LiveJournal doesn't hold on to comments to syndicated feeds), so to summarize, a man of 19 is caught with a picture of a naked 17-year-old. Because of this he's a registered sex offender and his life is pretty much ruined. I was aware that this kind of thing happens, but reading a personal account forces me to pay more attention to it. The way our laws and attitudes are, a 50-year-old who rapes a 10-year-old can be treated similarly to a 15-year-old who takes pictures of herself. (The laws are probably different in each state and I've heard of other such cases, but I'm having trouble finding links.) I don't think it's unwarranted to suggest that the attitudes of this country (and others) towards protecting children are rather messed up and counter-productive. I have a friend whose father was convicted of having sex with an underage girl, and the impression I got was that it's pretty much impossible to defend someone who's accused of this; no lawyer wants to be known as the person who let the rapist go (because if you're accused of this, lots of people will believe you must have done it, because people suck). In the spirit of "full disclosure", I should mention that I had a 15-year-old girlfriend when I was 19. I don't think this makes me a bad person. (If I were the age I am now, well, that would be a bad thing.) Also, if you think I'm defending child molesters here, you are an idiot. Please stop being an idiot. It's probably unhealthy to care about certain things. When I'm in a good mood, that just means I'm not currently paying attention to all the horrible things in the world. It must be nice to just stop thinking and believe whatever the television tells you. 3 comments|post comment

note: all voices have been impersonated by over whelming feelings, not actual voices. [05 Nov 2009|04:28am] fr0w [ mood | Just because you know the rules of Chess, ] [ music | doesn't mean you know how to play. ] There is this maze, I'm no exactly sure how to get through it, but I feel like I have a pretty good idea and could get through it with relative ease. This isn't the false hope sort of thing, bolstering my self esteem to work up the nerve. Or maybe it is, I don't know, it's not the point... what the point is I feel like it's so easy that there is no reason for me to hold back. And no matter how naive I am, I'm quickly sobered by this feeling, a matter of fact feeling, that I'm still gonna fail. I could simply say, "so what?" and still try to get away with it. I mean I know, it's not a huge deal... I fail all the time, I'm wrong more than I'm right... and I'm okay with it. So that can't be really holding be back.... right? The other day, I watch some showed about someone being possessed by a demon, or the devil, some other mythological being. It made me wonder if i'm possessed.. but instead of making me say and do fucked up shit, it gets it's jollies by watching me waste my life away instead of doing so many (to/for me) great things... or at least attempting them. Like every time I pick up a pencil to draw it's that voice that makes me put it down. I'm sure that's exactly what a real demon is; an unexplainable obstacle or occurrence that can't be easily explained... and a person with epilepsy or schizophrenia, guilt of neglecting a loved one turning to anger, hate in oneself for allowing them self to take the sedentary path... all of them simply possessed somehow by an unknown force to simply do nothing about it. Sometimes, the path seems so clear ahead of me. That's it's like watching a movie being played out ahead of me, and I'm simply have to insert tab A into slot A. Wax on; Wax off. Smile, wink, and nod. I'd love for something to be as romantically cliche' as me needing to know how to fail before I can succeed. I know I've yet to learn to fail gracefully. I understand how people could get so much done if they focused more on the the task to be done, or how to meet or exceed expectations. I mean, on paper it's simple, but applying this is a completely different horse. How can you just do something (or not do something) and not worry about what will happen? Probability? Optimism? Chance? Empathy? none of these seem like realistic answers. I should be happy, and I'd like to say I am happy.. but I'm not really. It's more like content. It feels like life is a kind of a present given to you by someone who doesn't quite know you well enough to get you something you really want, or something you need, but you're still glad that they thought of you and at least tried, and you know they care enough for your acceptance so you tell them it's great and smile... but you don't really know what to do with it now that you have it. My life isn't bad, and I know I have no reason to complain. That still doesn't change how I feel. How i'm sure many people feel. Maybe even most, hell possibly all. Some of us choose to ignore it, or have been raised to ignore it.. or mistake it for something else completely unrelated, like gas or the down economy. Still though, maybe it's my over compensating lack of confidence, but I feel like one of those guys who can complete a rubix cube as easily as teenage girl can txt her BFF jill, 'bout wat Jen said 'bout Monica H. I mean I know i can't (i've tried), I even understand how it's done logistically, but I can't do it.. .. .. (you know what's funny, when i just wrote that.. I got this other little voice saying... "yeah you can!", could still be that same deamon fucking with me; after all , you can't knock something down until you build it up)... It sucks having this feeling. Maybe this is a sign of bipolarism.. or something.. not like manic-depressive but a whole different kind.... something they don't even have a name for yet. oh well, naming your deamons won't make you control them... just something to curse when you've lost all control. p.s. i know there is an interesting story somewhere in here, but I'd rather just point it out and make someone else deal with the bullshit. post comment

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