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In Completely Unrelated News, Maybe

I have been twinging for cigarettes constantly, since I've been here. This is particularly sucky since I have been quit for over five years... the English smoke a lot. I have also never seen as many gum chewers in a single place (especially true in Newcastle). 

I have been muttering under my breath that "London is shit" for a wee bit, now. I feel out at sea, really. I don't know if this is due to a lack of companionship, being homesick for a home that doesn't exist, etc. What I know is that I hate moving from place to place to place... and that London most assuredly doesn't feel like home. My skin & lungs don't do well here, either. 

What I know is that I'm going through another cycle of depression, and that doesn't make things any easier. What I know... is that when I return to the States, it'll be a challenge to find work that's not the same fecking thing as I was doing before.

What I know is that food is still a crippling crutch. What I know is that I am being far too much of an ass on this lovely trip, and my time here is running out. *sigh*

Bellyache, bellyache, bellyache.

On How to Be Happy for a Minute

Happy Easter, peoples!

I just ate a lovely meal that was prepared by one of the blokes who's staying at the long-term hostel that I'm currently at (thanks to me getting my wallet lifted straight out of my handbag on a very full tube last Saturday, I didn't have enough cash on me to pay for the flatshare I'm supposed to be in, and the replacement cards haven't come yet)... He called it "feeding his twelve apostles." I call it damned fuinny & very sweet. 

So far it's been a love-hate relationship with Eng-er-Land... keeping up with trying to blog or post has been a real challenge; at the end of a full day, I want nothing more than to sit on my ass & do nothing but sit at a pub or such...

But all in all, I am happy here. I can't say that I feel like this is "Home" either, but it certainly feels much better than where I came from.



And On a Complete Aside

I haven't been here in a while...

So I'll just not care & nonchalantly make a random comment that someone is thinking about me right now, and it feels like the bloke who was on duty last night (who was lounging about in the reception area just now). Scruffy & lovely. Maybe it's just about that time of the Whatever, but I swear that all of the good-looking men are over here, not back in the States. pfffft. 

Ah Well, not looking. Well. Looking to my heart's content, hah! But not looking to stay with anyone, as tempting as that might be. My freedom is important to me, right now. Or Blahhhhhhh. Whatever nonsense just crapped out me mouth, OY.

I'm having a lovely time on Newcastle...  I think I'm needing to come back. There's so much more than I thought that there was going to be! Holy Shit.

Oh yeah.. I'm in Eng-er-Land (she said, nonchalantly). Land of some of my ancestors, and a whole bunch of people that I likem so far.

I dunno if I'll call it home, so much as I'll call it comforting.

And there it is.


On Aging Gracefully

Tadaaaah! I am officially 39. I'm feeling pretty spiffy. How 'bout you?

Happy Birthday to my fellow celebrator, Super Jerry ♥


Writer's Fodder: Bare necessities



My travel plans keep on changing. So frustrating, yet ridiculously awesome. Folks tell me to just focus and pick something & do it. 

They are speaking to someone who takes great delight in imagining successful (though impossible) beginnings, endings & in-betweens.

Idea #1: Take a bus for the fuck of it to Chicago for a week or more for St. Patrick's Day, go to Cleveland just for an art exhibit, then hit New York for my trip out to... wherever.
 I want (very badly) to go to Tel-Aviv, but the sheer amount of crapassery going on there right now makes me very afraid for their  people, let alone myself. Never mind that I don't know Hebrew. I'm working on it. The letters are confusing when they change certain things. Don't even get me started on sloppy penmanship, argh! 

Idea #2 Involves Eng-er-Land, of course. Renting a flat there, and bopping over to Paris, perhaps, before dashing off to Scotland. There's the whole unsolved mystery of "Where am I going to stay?" bit, but... well.

Idea #3 Move somewhere warm & recover from MinneSnowTa. Find a job & save as much money as I can, so that I can go to Eng-er-Land for longer. If Israel hasn't been nuked off the planet, I'll visit on the way back, after I've had an opportunity to learn a bit more Hebrew. 

Idea #4 Say "Fuck it!" and just do something completely random & unexpected, like taking trains/buses across the country for no apparent reason other than to crash one major museum in every state.
 Also, on a completely unrelated note, it's really too bad I'm not interested in going to Mexico. The money would certainly last longer. *sigh* 

This is my brain, being far too depressed for its own good.

On the Upside, today I gave my notice of intended resignation at job #1. My last day will be the 25th of February, unless I need to leave sooner for traveling purposes! Hooraaaaay.

 I'm actually getting tired. Stop the presses, it's 2:00am & I'm finally sleepy...

 Cheers ♥

Name three things you can’t live without.

Or Not

Well, Chicago is out. I was really excited, but Oh Well. Plan "B" shall move forward, instead.

So, once I get my shit together (quit laughing), I will instead simply leave for London earlier than I was going to.

I am seriously thinking about a short stay in Tel Aviv first, but we shall see what I have for sheckles!  All I know for certain is that I have until the end of December to figure it out... I think. Cheapest airfare is through mid-March! I may have to buy tickets earlier.

It is odd to think that I'll be leaving with a backpack with clothes & sundries, my computer bag, 3 cameras, my wallet... and my iPod. That's it, and that's almost all I'll have. All of my belongings, save for a few boxes of things, will be gone.

Terrifying & liberating, all at once.

I heart celebrating the year of the Midlife Crisis a year early :)



Writer's Fodder: An intimate portrait

Still Life with Midnight and Manitou.

I might be moving to Chicago for a few months. Hallelujah.
If someone wrote a book about your life, what would it be called?

Down the Road Blindfolded

Well. Long time, no anything! 

If you really want to know how I've been, just stop by hitRECord dot org sometime. Leave a message here if you want my username there. I write really bad poetry, become far too enthusiastic about every little thing, and generally cause harmless mischief & mayhem. 

My News for the Moment: I'll be moving, come March 2012. I'm abandoning ship, and at this point, I don't give a fuck. I'm going to pretend I'm 21 (since I'll have just turned 39 by then, of course) & take a very small amount of money abroad, and stay there for as long as possible (hopefully 4-6 months., but I still have to save money to move back, boo)... Unless I happen to meet my Prince/Career Charming & am somehow able to stay there, I'll have to return to the States. I will not be coming back to MN unless my Mum is very ill; I will be moving to California or Florida if I possibly can. I am fucking tired of being cold.

The tentative plan at this precise moment is:

1. Spend St. Patrick's Day weekend & following week in Chicago.
2. Take a flight out to... wherever I'm going, by the 21st (see explanations below). 
3. Gate1travel still has unbelievable deals on travel abroad, with accommodations, and some of the cheaper fares to either Scotland, , London or Paris leave on the 21st of March.... so I might just fly out & stay at the hotels provided, and spend a week just getting my bearings. I think I could stay in a hostel for a few days, if necessary, as I am also planning on renting a flat while I stay in London/Scotland... maybe even Paris... I have a lovely friend in Scotland, with whom I will be visiting, and Geoff, if you haven't given up on my navigations, I would love to meet up with you, too :)

So. That's that. As I like to say, "I'm changing the channel on this fucking soap opera."


On How to Swear in an Unladylike Fashion

 It's fucking official: I fucking hate Windows 7. Better now.

 I am still alive. Same old shit, different day.

Happy Death Day, Nicholas

 Nine years ago today, my best friend & sole (younger)  sibling died due to complications of congestive heart failure. He was 26.

 I am still as empty without him today, as I was without him back then.

 I miss you, O' brother mine...


38 and Feeling Great

Just in case anybody cares, I'm incredibly drunk, incredibly happy, and it's raining outside on a perigee full moon (that I subsequently can't see, due to the rain)/upcoming vernal equinox. 

Now that Spring is just 28 minutes away, my blood is boiling with enthusiasm. I have all manner of herbal seeds at hand, and a book of herbal spells for beginners (because after nearly 10 years of not intently practicing, that's about what I've been reduced to)... hurry up & warm up, dammit! The fridge can wait, I don't give a shit. I', a redneck; I'll use a cooler until I can get a fridge!

On a complete side note, I have come to realize that the problem actually is (aside from my immense dislike of my own body/image), is that I have a deep-seated, fairly unreasonable & unfathomable dualing fear & dislike of men. No, not a lesbian-- more like, if you hurt me or my feelings, I will rip your nads off & shove them down your throat kind of way). How is one supposed to get past that, to eventually yell "Trojan Man!"  Bah.

Said with a British Accent

Well, I'm not dead, am I? No. No, clearly not.

Right, then.

Bah Humbug, Yet Again

 Well. Bitch, bitch, whine whine. Yep, it's about that time.

Today marks the anniversary of The Challenger blowing up. By no small feat of Universal Whatever, my car died on the way home. I'm waiting to hear back from the mechanic's shop to see if it's fixable (I am guessing no-- you really should have heard her die). If it is fixable, I can't afford to fix it for about 5 months. 
 So. Taking the bus is a foul & malodorous affair! To get to work by 1pm, I must leave home at 9:30am (I need to walk a mile to my bus stop, make 3 transfers, & wait around forever). The nights I close, I will have to take a cab home ($20) until spring; I work until 9:30, and the last bus that goes my way leaves at 8:58pm.  Walk, you say? Hmm, well. Here's a little problem: it's 7 miles to work. Those 7 miles are not walker friendly, even if I was in shape for them (which I'm not). I figure I might be able to spend the $$ required to get my bicycle back in working condition for spring... and pray for strong legs. Oh, and for my job to get an effing bicycle rack.
 One to two days/week, I will have to take a cab to work, as there is no bus available until after I'm supposed to be to work.
Job #2? Oh yes. Leave at 1.5 hours ahead of time, walk a mile to get to the stop, ride the bus for 10 minutes, walk .3 miles,  and be 1/2 hour early... going home? Walk, wait, ride for 12 minutes, then another mile of walking. 

 You know, if the Universe wanted me to get fit faster, it would have been much nicer if I had simply won the lottery. I mean, really... the simple task of trying to get groceries will be overwhelming, d/t the bus schedule. Plus, who wants to carry groceries for a damned mile? I guess grocery night will be one of the cab fare nights. It's about a mile to the store from job #1. *sigh*

  What the Sam Hill do I do with my car if it's fixable, but with no money to fix it (and no one to borrow from)? Maybe just have it towed back here, undo the battery & park it until I can raise the money? Insure it for basic coverage? Bah.
  If it can't be fixed at all, I'll donate it. On top of this... there's still the exorbitant sum of towing costs & labor for the diagnostics. Huzzah. 

 Happy Birthday to Me. The Great 38 is sucking ass, thus far. And now I can't even just simply "drive away" from it all. Bummer.

On the upside: Happy Birthday, Ger & Tonya, my fellow 28th-ers!!

In Want of a Deep Dream to Disappear Into

 Yep. Still alive & kicking. Or something.


 Warning! Women's Issue's Ahead:

  I'm still mighty Sylvia Plath-esque (sans glorious writing skills), but I haven't taken a nosedive off of the planet, just yet.

Being off of birth control has been awful. The PMDD is just about killing me (quite literally), and the return of my little monthly friend has been sheer Hell. Yuck.

I am tired & crabby most of the time. I'm in a state of financial disaster... and all around, stuff is shit. This year is going to be worse than last year, and that's just a fricking downer.

On the upside, I might just declare myself to officially be a lone Dancer of the Hearth. Call me a witch if it'll give me an official holiday to take off of work so that I can make good house magic, see if I care.

Looking into what it will take for me to have the Park personel OK the sale of my houe-- then sell the fcuking thing before I'm 40... and hopefully not in the dead of winter. Tired of this place, already.

 Anyway. That's my whining, for the moment.

On How to Feel Sorry for Yourself

 To say that I am deeply depressed would be a severe understatement.

 The past year has made me want to full-on Sylvia Plath myself, but my oven runs on electricity. People can say "It's just money" all they want. When "money"= credit & credit= what you're supposedly worth when it comes to loans, homes & other things that groan loudly (without pleasure) in the night... Well, yeah. I am one of those idiots who doesn't mind the idea of dying, because I believe I'll finally meet up with the people I miss the most. The only regret is that my poor mom will have to sift through my mountains of shit-- or secretly start a convenient house fire.

OK, let's go make someone else's day miserable...


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