I want to write about this before I lose this sensation.

I just watched an experimental short film Jess showed me.

(Watch it)

It detached me from comfort. I walked out of the bathroom, and a towel on the floor seemed menacing to me. This film isn't about what horror lurks in the shadows around you, it's about what horror lurks in the shadows of humanity. What it means to exist. Existence is absurd. I think this is what I was supposed to be experiencing that entire semester in Denmark when we read Sartre, Heidegger, Kierkegaard.

Death isn't terrifying. Utter nothingness is terrifying. Beyond our existence is a great lot of nothing. Maybe that's why such deep comfort is found in saying God is in everything, and God is everywhere. Maybe that isn't true, maybe instead of God, there's just nothing.

The first line that jars you in the film is, "By accident," which I think has profound significance to the whole meaning of the video. Small things like their faces, and perspectives are distorted, blurred. You never settle into comfort waiting for the clues to create a full puzzle. In this puzzle the pieces are not flat and crooked, they're all different textures and fabrics and consistencies, and nothing fits.

Everything in the video was unfamiliar even though we were in a living room trying to make a VCR work. There were two different languages being spoken. There was poison and a breakdown and ultimately sanity failed. It suggests that everything is a balance between two opposing forces. Something and nothing. Sanity and insanity. Order and chaos. I feel so generic, saying this stuff, but it finally makes sense in this weird way I'm perceiving it after watching that. I'm so unsettled and it's fun, bu it genuinely frightens me. Not just for show. I'm looking at things in my room, things settled around me, and finding them to be ridiculous.

Death isn't what's scary, it's ..... nothing.

Cool thing bewitching found:
Ze Johari Veendo
I don't think I'm modest, but wouldn't choosing that trait defeat the word's meaning? Ha. Also, everyone is COMPLEX. And where's critical? Why can't I say I'm critical??

In other news, life's details are just beginning to coil into a discernable solid. bettertakecover has recommended some awesome facial products that I am hoping will make my skin look as incredible as this, drinking a ton of water, and exercising every day. When I realized that exercising consistently improved the rate and coherency of my thoughts (i totally, totally noticed a difference), AND that it was probably the puzzle piece I was missing for clear skin, I suddenly stopped making up excuses not to do it. Hello, motivation.

I'm even being way more sociable in public, such that a really cute Schlotzky's boy inquired about me being there before, and a just as cute perhaps even cuter Schlotzky's boy was all sugary at me. Or maybe I'm developing illusions of grandeur. EITHER WAY, life is sweet. Sugary... sugary sweet.

It's strange and amazing, this talking-to-people thing. It's beginning to matter less. It's less of a scary thing and more of a thing I kinda look forward to doing. (Emphasis on kinda) bettertakecover described to me her viewpoint of socializing. She said people were like balls of light. They come together, either meld and twine energy, or just bounce off one another, moving on. Doesn't that sound a lot like molecular structure? *be deep* But seriously, that is a Native American way of perceiving. I knowz. I read about it.

copying the smoochable bettertakecover:

You Are 70% Boyish and 30% Girlish

You are pretty evenly split down the middle - a total eunuch. Okay, kidding about the eunuch part. But you do get along with both sexes. You reject traditional gender roles. However, you don't actively fight them. You're just you. You don't try to be what people expect you to be.

Says the same thing as when it's 50/50.

I'm trying to write an article on the student loan cuts. It's sooooooooooooooooooooo interesting.</haha>

If it was natural to love and nurture everyone, the world would be filled with tired folk spread too thin.

When your enemies go to heaven, they get to watch a rerun of all the things they did bad to you, all the good things they failed to see about you, and they will cry, devastated, remorseful.

But you're in another heavenly cloud, watching a rerun of all the things you did bad to someone, all the good things you failed to see about them, and you're crying, devastated, remorseful.

I like to play blackjack. I'm not addicted to gambling, I'm addicted to sitting in a semi-circle.
- Mitch Hedberg

(Becca) I left half-way through the movie like, "Uh this sucks, I'm going to go work on my project," and I actually started working on my literature project
(Becca) not falsely, either
(Becca) I was getting into it again
(Becca) and Dad was like "Becca!! BECCA!! HER BAND BROKE UP!!!!"
(bewitching) :/
(Becca) And he was like "BECCA!! REMEMBER WENDY'S??"
(Becca) BECCA!! REMEMBER YOU BEGGED ME FOR WENDY'S??
(Becca) AND I GOT IT FOR YOU!!
(Becca) BECCA!!
(Becca) And I hear mom say, *sigh* leave her alone.
(Becca) BECCA!!
(Becca) I GOT YOU WENDY'S JUST DO THIS ONE THING FOR ME, WATCH THIS WITH ME.
(Becca) IT'S GETTING RELAY GOOD!!
(bewitching) :/ :/
(Becca) And afterward, I said, "That was the biggest waste of time," and dad was like WHAT? And I said, "That was the shittiest movie on the planet," and he said, IT WAS GOOD, and Mom said, "No. It wasn't."
(bewitching) LOL
(Becca) *cry*
(Becca) I already wasted so much time with that freakish nap
(Becca) Now this.
(Becca) SIX HOURS OF MY WAKING TIME.
(Becca) PFFFT like SHIT BITS in the TOILET.
(Becca) PLOP PLOP PLOP PLOP
(Becca) FLUSUSUSHSHHSHSHHHH
(bewitching) o _ o
(Becca) BYE BYE
(bewitching) *weep*
(Becca) BYE SIX HOURS, BYE BYE
(bewitching) I have some pictures of smegma would you like to see them?
(Becca) Now that's more like it.

When you want something really bad, you make it up along the way even if you're only half-right.

I'm delayed in making this update because I'm trying to participate in NaNoWriMo, which is a lot more daunting a task than you realize before the first week is up. It's up. It's daunting. Still, I post.

By "delayed," I mean that I visited and MET bewitching over a week ago, so here's my update.

It was an awesome time. We had a lot of buffering from the people around us and Institute concerts every night but the first.

If you saw her pictures and thought she was cute, it's nothing compared to the real deal. She's absolutely brimming with Uber-Adorable. She had super-cute blue Leia tails and a truly lovable grin. We had our moments of silence (my fault, I'm sure) and a tiny bit of awkward convo, but after day one, our repartee became almost as natural as online. Though in general, I'm just not as quick or comfortable as I am online, so I don't talk about the same things--a considerable factor in any lack of "gelling" we may have experienced. It's okay, I'm looking at it as a learning experience. And nothing horrible happened, I know we're still the awesome friends we always will be, so I'm satisfied.

Beyond all that? I fucking LOVED being away from home. Like a dumbass I missed the train I was supposed to go on, so I wandered around Philly for a bit, and good lawd, it's a gorgeous city. I just loved the freedom. At Misty's financial decree, I hopped on a plane and friggin' left town on a whim. It felt so good.

It was pretty natural to begin with--we never had any weird ostrich-head giggle fits, like I had imagined, which is DOUBLE-THUMBS-UP. After eating at a cute little Thai restaurant with her housemate Cappy, who is sharp, hilarious, and a bit sadistic, we watched Smallville and cackled at the lame-ass vampires and I actually referred sex as "doing it" when we talked about Clark losing his virginity.

During some random conversation (we had many of those), I found a little furry poodle stuck in the couch behind me, and plucked it up and squeezed it. Misty said, "Isn't that cute?" And I said, "Yes, it really is." I asked what was zipped up inside of it. Misty coyly shrugged and said, "I dunno, look inside!" I said, "No, I won't pry," and tossed it at her, and when she insisted, I knew it was for ME. ME ME ME. I was pretty shy about accepting a gift in person, but touched. It was a handmade necklace I knew she had made for me, but much prettier to touch and weightier hold. I got to keep the poodle, which is soft as hell and super cute.

The next day, we crammed into a tiny car full of five girls, each with her own potent personality, driving 6 hours from Philly to Pitts. It was so cool, the drama, the comraderie, the twists and turns. The night of the first concert, after we bewailed the betrayal of one Gavin fan and bickered amongst ourselves (Pittsburgh conjures forth the shadows hidden within you), we drove fast through the dark fog, sedated by the day's events, and I could hear quiet little voices murmuring along with Gavin Rossdale's most obscure lyrics... This mortal soil around me, this mortal feeling I have found, surrounded by your glory, hold me now, so that I never drown. I knew I wasn't the only devout fan, but I was in a car full of 'em. It was truly neat.

Not so much the fact that the girls up front, born and raised in Frozenville, liked having the windows open in weather that Houstonians would consider grounds for closing down schools. (No, seriously. Snowing is apocalypse shit, here.) I just wrapped myself up in a blanket and endured it. In retrospect, it was to keep awake on the long drive while the rest of us slept. Well, I didn't sleep. But I sure as hell tried. Misty? Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

Earlier, right after the first concert, the girls and Misty gave Gavin a birthday cake and asked if he saw the Institute buttons they made. He pointed to one that was pinned in his shirt, and while they squealed and said other things, I think I was teetering in faint-zone. Being in his presence for me is akin to sliding on the Robe. Hoo. Gavin glomped Misty and her cohort as a thank-you for the presents, and while grinning his big adorable smile right at me, said, "It's cold, let's go home." Instead of saying, "Haha, real subtle," or "Is there enough room on the bus for all of us?" I just grinned back at him, stupefied. Poor man got swamped by autographs and pictures soon after that. I was many-times the culprit taking his pictures, having obligated myself at the other girls' requests.

The next day was Misty's driver's exam, which went to hell despite how hard we tried to make it work. We waited what seemed like hours, only to be turned away. And by then, it was too late to try again, because we had to make it to this concert. It wasn't just the wishes of one or two people, our being on time was being counted on by eight people. So we busted on by the store, where Misty's friend Jess and I cackled at a birthday card she planned to get Gavin--"JUST ANOTHER STUPID BIRTHDAY CARD" (open it up) "With a booger in it." So yeah, if Gavin ever reads this (which I'm sure he does), I PICKED THAT OUT.

So. Then we got back to Misty's place, which we quickly learned has never had a key. She always keeps it unlocked. None of the three of us knows who locked it, but it was locked, and holy hell, we had to be ready and at the concert within an hour. Her housemates were relatively non-chalant about the fact that a locksmith couldn't be there for another few hours, because I don't think they understand the cell-based urgency involved in being first in line for a band you have spent so much time and money on to see. Our solution? Kick in the fuckin' door. So as a team of three, we did this, and the doorjam was stronger than the door itself (and the staircase hungered for bones directly behind us), so crack! it died. We made it to the concert on time.

Misty was pretty upset about the door and the car exam combined, and I think she would have cried if I wasn't in the room. I decided to ply her with music and caffeine to make her feel better, because I really suck at compassionate words and huggles. I sucked at that online for a long time, too. Still need some work. So we got all spruced up, and we all looked super cool. I wore stripey bra straps, the boobsie Copenhagen shirt, torn-up fishnet on one arm, and Misty assured me all the pedophiles at the concert would be salivating at the sight of my heidi braids. I couldn't argue with that. We looked like hot bitches heading in.

And when we headed in right past the whole line and into the venue ahead of time, well, we didn't think much of the broken door or the other girls. I'm not sure what they expected us to do at the opportunity, but I don't blame them for being jealous. It sure was fun wandering around the empty venue pretending we mattered and stuffing our faces with fries and nachos.

I tried to reason with one of them who "didn't want to hear it," but gave up after a couple seconds. If you don't want to hear it, you won't be hearin' it. Or anything else, ever. (I have a high opinion of myself.)

So! The concert rocked, but we left with an empty feeling, knowing Gavin had been whisked away by Gwen directly afterward, and there wasn't much left. So it was Misty and me alone again that night, and I think that was my favorite few hours with her. We talked about serious things like Gavin, and the official Institute fan club (which will be emblazoned with a logo Misty created!), and how we felt about the concerts. I liked that a lot, even though she was falling asleep. It was just like online, which made me feel more at ease. (hehe)

Next day, we wandered around the airport together, and thunk up a masterplan for foodz, and I insisted on paying for it this once. That was the best sandwich ever. I still crave it. I might go make one for a memory. But Misty and I hugged before we left, quite sad to be parting, and I miss her a lot. We got along and there's so much potential there for a more 3-d relationship.

We didn't have a profoundly deep connection at the addition of the physical layer, but I think that's because a) we didn't have the TIME, and b) we've already gone there. We didn't have anything else but the physical layer left, and so we talked about Clark "doing it" with Lana, instead. Which is a travesty. It should have been Chloe.

Misty's response was a little different--I'm still not perfectly certain about how she feels, but I don't think it's positive or negative. That's the whole vibe of it. We're pretty much exactly where we were already, with just a lot of the fear missing. It's a good thing, and yet it takes away some of the mystery and excitement.

All in all, my feelings after the fact are really good. Aside from the exciting I CAN DO ANYTHING! vibe Misty gifted me by flying me out there on a whim, my instinct was to move there and wedge my ass in her daughter's room and kick her cats around. (Or just move to Philly.) But I don't think I want to invade her city so soon. We have a lot of our lives left to migrate toward each other, and a lot of our lives left to live.

My closest friends are all beautiful and great. I think it'd be a shame if we didn't one day all live on the same block, irritating and enriching each other. A damn shame.

It was
When I realized I was part of the puzzle
Good or bad
That great jigsaw puzzle
All the people in pain
Lots of people in pain
In the end
All things point to you

I got asked out on a date, which was petrifying and neat at the same time. This particular time, I mean. I get ASKED on DATES pretty REGULARLY. OKAY? I do. Really.

But this time was special because I actually considered saying yes, for the first time ever.

Oh wait, I said yes to a boy in Denmark, and he wined and dined my fine ass, said "You're actually an above average looking girl!" and rubbed his jeans erection on me. I said, "Can you actually FEEL that?" and he said, "Yes, can't you?" and I was like "Oh YES." I couldn't. I didn't want to hurt his feelings.

But someday later, I think I made him consider suicide when I answered his question, "What would you rate me on a scale of one to ten?" I said, "Seven, if ten is models." And he was all upset. Little did he know, the reason I got interested in Denmark was for a Danish male model. I knew all about the surreal 10s. He made good potatoes, though.

Which brings me back to why this particular guy asking me out was special. He is so shy, bordering on stuttering. He wears glasses and his communication is so forced-casual, it's almost cute. He's post-bachelor and teaching 10th grade English, which is pretty cool. He's an aspiring writer.

and I was hungry. This boy chose the right time of night to email me and mention dinner. I was like, Ooh, the museum of fine arts and DINNER? I have fond memories of museums and food. But of course I replied (in the email) I don't date right now, which is 100% true. No further comment.

I guess the reason it's worth writing about is because I actually considered it, and felt somewhat comfortable with the possibility of saying yes. The fact that I'm not too scared to sit and eat food around another boy is new for me.

ps. I'm going to be meeting Misty in a week. Oh, and Gavin

today has been really. really shitty. that doesn't happen to me much.

I had a dream Dad woke me up and was just a silhouette in a mostly lightless room. He said he had decided to "stop the life-sustaining medication." Because it hurt, or he was sick of the side-effects, or whatever reason. Out of dreamland, Dad is healthy and doesn't take life-sustaining medicine. But I've never given my dad a longer hug than I did in the dream.

A holiday metropolis of red lights winked sporadically at us, telling us to GO HOME. We rationalized that a 3 hour drive turned into a 25 hour drive probably wouldn't work on one tank of gas, so we turned home. We were the lone canoe on a cement river.

SO we're just going to sit it out here, in this big ol' house. My grandparents are on the way now, my sister and hubby are buying food, and Loki "is being a good dog, yuz he IZ."

Even though the storm isn't until tomorrow night, giving us plenty of time for procrastination excitement, we dusted off some criss-crossy plywood and started cooking all our food, certain to have the news NANANA-MNANANANA-NANANAing at our brain-walls all the while. I thought I'd start making my own preparation (preparedness?) effort by stuffing my face full of chips and bacon and cereal, and then dragging my lethargic butt up here to tell you I might die this weekend.

Kind of exciting, huh? I can't say I really believe a storm is going to come and steal my life and family, because the sun is in my eyes at the moment and I"m not sure if "Im making any typos anymore. Ah, tracers.

Though if God is anything like a writer, there might be a reason why my cute black glasses were crushed under the unfeeling wheel of a car a couple weeks ago. (I am, of course, the main character of this story. Yes, you're just a supporting character. You're well-flushed.)

I'll keep you updated.

Don't just begin today. Begin right now.

I'm doing a MEME that Dave passed on to me. I don't actually have a big list of all my songs, so I just put ALL my songs into a big playlist. Some of them I never even heard.

What do you think of me, zenamp?
Earth Wind and Fire - Earth Wind and Fire
Okay, what an awful song. It's truly bad. I've never heard it in my life, no idea why I have it.
World goes by the hand
Of the master plan
Can't you understand
You're but a grain of sand

Will I have a happy life?
ACDC - Big Balls
Fuck yes! I hope this is symbolic as well as literal.
I've got big balls! I've got big balls! They're such big balls, and they're FANCY big balls!
Some balls are held for charity, some for fancy dress, but when they're held for pleasure, they're the balls that I like best.

What do my friends really think of me?
Andrea Bocelli & Sarah Brightman - Time To Say Goodbye
:|

Do people secretly lust after me?
Dizzy Mizz Lizzy - Seas in Your Eyes
Cool song I also never heard. I guess this means yes. :D
what is it you're trying to hide?
something I can't figure out
She doesn't know
which way to go she doesn't care
but before you go
you ought to know
that there's 67 seas in your eyes
(Seas of... what? Poopy sewage?)

How can I make myself happy?
ATB - Til I Come
Haha. Ravin', comin', and change. No fuckin joke.
Til I come
Change it and see

What should I do with my life?
David Gray - The Other Side
Guess this Death & Dying class has a real purpose, then.
Meet me on the other side

Why must life be so full of pain?
Soggy Bottom Boys - Hard Time Killing Floor Blues
(I swear I am not choosing these.)
Hard time here and everywhere you go

How can I maximize my pleasure during sex?
OIKAY I SWEAR I AM NOT PICKING THESE.
DJ Alligator Project - Blow My Whistle Bitch
Blow my whistle bitch. *whistlewhistlewhistle, whistlewhistlewhistle, whistlewhistle* Come on, open up, put it in... let's begin. *whistlewhistlewhistle, whistlewhistlewhistle, whistlewhistle* Blow it like y'mean it.
And raving again. :D

Will I ever have children?
Grimskunk - Ya Basta
Hmmmmmmmm. This was in Spanish. So... I translated.
Assholes Assholes
All those years fought itself why?
who the fight for
the Earth and freedom
For our children dignity
The chorus is "Already is enough!" so maybe that's hinting at overpopulation. No one can complain--my zenamp predicted it.

Will I die happy?
Okay, this is tough. It's an instrumental from a soundtrack.
Troy - 3200 Years Ago
It's really dismal, ancient and exotic, with a sporadic, heavy drumbeat. Tanja Tzarovska sings a remonstrance, a wailing prayer. It's the first song on the entire soundrack, so I can say my soothesaying zenamp answered the question with the film and the Iliad's theme: heros never die.

What do you think happiness is?
Emiliana Torrini - Summerbreeze
What's that, my darling little zenamp? Love? Oh yes, I agree.
It might have been a while
Since you could trust
That someone really cares

What's my favorite fetish?
Nine Inch Nails - Something I Can Never Have
Who ever gets to have their true favorite fetish, anyway?

I'll do the same extra question as Dave, since I, too, am writing a book.
What will be the general reaction to my book?
Matchbox 20 - Long Day
Haha. *grit teeth*
It's sitting by the overcoat,
The second shelf, the note she wrote
That I can't bring myself to throw away

Muah.