OkashiiKitsune
41 / f / straight / seeing someone
Commerce City, Colorado, United States
Last login: / Join Date:
introspective, self-deprecating, and slightly odd
track journal OkashiiKitsune's Journal ( 12 Entries )
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[1 - 10]
[11 - 12]
Who is De Quervain... |
and why do I have his tenosynovitis?
Seriously, when you spend a large portion of your day typing, it kind of blows to have this @**!! splint doodad on your wrist. It's amazing how much a person uses the wrist... which goes unrealized until suddenly you can't use it.
Just one of those minor bloody inconveniences, gets in the way of playing guitar, swinging a bokken, writing, typing, opening car doors, shifting, trying to open jars - thank goodness I can use my left hand for other things!
I've got a bad pain in my wrist
Due to some internal cyst
I find it ignoble
to keep it immobile
And really, it makes me quite pissed!
Tell De Quervain: DO NOT WANT!
Seriously, when you spend a large portion of your day typing, it kind of blows to have this @**!! splint doodad on your wrist. It's amazing how much a person uses the wrist... which goes unrealized until suddenly you can't use it.
Just one of those minor bloody inconveniences, gets in the way of playing guitar, swinging a bokken, writing, typing, opening car doors, shifting, trying to open jars - thank goodness I can use my left hand for other things!
I've got a bad pain in my wrist
Due to some internal cyst
I find it ignoble
to keep it immobile
And really, it makes me quite pissed!
Tell De Quervain: DO NOT WANT!
Being my friend may be hazardous to your health |
Okay, so Charles passed away Tuesday. I just now received an e-mail
from the husband of a long-time friend, who passed away in her
sleep this morning. This is starting to depress me. What's that
"rule of three"? Makes me wonder who'll be next. I'm not that old!
Why are my friends dropping like flies???
I am goin to go cry in the shower for awhile and go to bed. I can at least take comfort in the fact that it was very quick and probably painless - she had been diagnosed with Huntington's disease, and a few days ago she sent me one of those questionnaires that ask "Where do you picture yourself in 10 years?" and she answered "Dead". Oddly enough, she was the second person to do so. I should check on the first :-(
Too much drama in my life; all I can do is be there as a friend to the survivors. Oy.
I am goin to go cry in the shower for awhile and go to bed. I can at least take comfort in the fact that it was very quick and probably painless - she had been diagnosed with Huntington's disease, and a few days ago she sent me one of those questionnaires that ask "Where do you picture yourself in 10 years?" and she answered "Dead". Oddly enough, she was the second person to do so. I should check on the first :-(
Too much drama in my life; all I can do is be there as a friend to the survivors. Oy.
Helpless |
I just got back from the hospital. My friend's husband just passed
away; I was with her. I HATE feeling so helpless - I am the kind of
person who likes to jump in and fix things, and I get so frustrated
when I am powerless to heal the situation. Her mom will be staying
with her tonight; all I can do is offer to be here for her, at any
time if she needs me. It just doesn't feel like enough. Charles is
out of pain now, but Pam's is just beginning. She'll get through
this, though. It won't be easy, but that's what friends and family
are for.
So rest in Peace in the land of your ancestors, Charles.
So rest in Peace in the land of your ancestors, Charles.
Pondering Imponderables |
A fellow by the name of <<jeremiah3rd>> made an
interesting post today on viewpoints with respect to religion and
reason. It made me think of my own belief system, which I
based on the story of the Six Blind Men and the Elephant. There are
6 blind men, who, having heard an elephant guards the Rajah's
daughter, make a trip to the royal stables so that they may
experience this beast for themselves. The first one touches the
side, and proclaims the elephant is very like a wall. The second
man touches the tusk of the elephant, and announces that the
elephant must be like a spear. The third blind man grabs hold of
the trunk, and immediately thinks an elephant must be a great
snake. The fourth man stumbles and catches the leg of the elephant,
which he then declares is a great tree-trunk. The fifth man grasps
the ear, from which he gathers that OF COURSE the elephant is like
a fan. The sixth man grabs the tail and states that the elephant is
like a rope.
Here's the tail end and moral written in verse by the American poet John Godfrey Saxe:
"And so these men of Indostan
Disputed loud and long,
Each in his own opinion
Exceeding stiff and strong,
Though each was partly in the right,
And all were in the wrong!
Moral:
So oft in theologic wars,
The disputants, I ween,
Rail on in utter ignorance
Of what each other mean,
And prate about an Elephant
Not one of them has seen!
Another God/religion analogy, as described by Mystic Michael, (wherever he may be now):
"The concept of God and Religion is like a big jewel out in space, and most people only see one facet and think it's the whole jewel, or don't realize there is more to it than the face they see. Or, they are facing away from it and don't bother to turn to see it at all."
Here's the tail end and moral written in verse by the American poet John Godfrey Saxe:
"And so these men of Indostan
Disputed loud and long,
Each in his own opinion
Exceeding stiff and strong,
Though each was partly in the right,
And all were in the wrong!
Moral:
So oft in theologic wars,
The disputants, I ween,
Rail on in utter ignorance
Of what each other mean,
And prate about an Elephant
Not one of them has seen!
Another God/religion analogy, as described by Mystic Michael, (wherever he may be now):
"The concept of God and Religion is like a big jewel out in space, and most people only see one facet and think it's the whole jewel, or don't realize there is more to it than the face they see. Or, they are facing away from it and don't bother to turn to see it at all."
Wibble |
I am sorely tempted to change every word in my profile to "wibble".
If it doesn't annoy everyone, it should at least be good for
getting out of the British Army as long as I remember to stick a
couple of pencils up my nose and put underpants on my head. It
worked for Captain Blackadder, didn't it? (Um, no, actually, it
didn't, but it still sounds good.)
I am flattered that some people find me to be interesting (at least in words on the screen), but for the love of Pete and his cheap rice wine do not e-mail me with what amounts to a demand to tell you more about me. Unless, of course, you want me to turn into a sarcastic growling bitch. What I put on my profile and in this public journal is all I choose to share, unless asked politely by someone capable of correctly stringing together a sentence. Do not tell me to IM you on Yahoo. I am not interested in any kind of relationship with you. If you cannot take the hint when I mention this politely after telling me your hopes and aspirations for a relationship, then I will not be held liable for the emergence of my alter-ego, a veritable verbal virago (Ooooh, look, alliteration!). In short: I do not like being told to do things. This does not apply to the work environment - hey, we all gotta do what we can to get by. But I feel I was being adequately polite just by answering without unleashing a torrent of words not suited for polite company.
I mean, it does take courage to e-mail someone out of the blue and start a conversation - I'm not knocking that, and more power to you for trying. But get over yourself at the same time.
That being said, I'm not really that evil of a female canine; I enjoy conversation. You know, verbal give & take, respectful of each other's limits, free from overt neediness and demanding tones.
Ok, glad to have gotten that off my chest. Toodle-pip.
I am flattered that some people find me to be interesting (at least in words on the screen), but for the love of Pete and his cheap rice wine do not e-mail me with what amounts to a demand to tell you more about me. Unless, of course, you want me to turn into a sarcastic growling bitch. What I put on my profile and in this public journal is all I choose to share, unless asked politely by someone capable of correctly stringing together a sentence. Do not tell me to IM you on Yahoo. I am not interested in any kind of relationship with you. If you cannot take the hint when I mention this politely after telling me your hopes and aspirations for a relationship, then I will not be held liable for the emergence of my alter-ego, a veritable verbal virago (Ooooh, look, alliteration!). In short: I do not like being told to do things. This does not apply to the work environment - hey, we all gotta do what we can to get by. But I feel I was being adequately polite just by answering without unleashing a torrent of words not suited for polite company.
I mean, it does take courage to e-mail someone out of the blue and start a conversation - I'm not knocking that, and more power to you for trying. But get over yourself at the same time.
That being said, I'm not really that evil of a female canine; I enjoy conversation. You know, verbal give & take, respectful of each other's limits, free from overt neediness and demanding tones.
Ok, glad to have gotten that off my chest. Toodle-pip.
Stories from the past |
It's amazing when you stop to think about how something you read as
a child affects you as an adult.
A long time ago, at about the age of 12, my father brought home Analog magazine. In it was a story entitled "The Dead Lady of Clown Town". It is about a futuristic society where people are programmed before birth (kind of like Brave New World), and the bulk of the work was done by underpeople, who were animals bred to look human but without any human rights. It talks about D'Joan, the dog girl, and how she martyred herself for the underpeople (pattered after Joan of Arc), and Elaine, the "witch" who was an accident. At any rate, even though I only read the story once, I would oftentimes throughout my life reflect back on it - I couldn't remember the name of the story, but Elaine and D'Joan preyed upon my mind. Finally today I googled "D'Joan" and "Dog-girl" and found the story! Here, for your reading enjoyment, is "The Dead Lady of Clown Town": http://www.webscription.net/chapters/1416520953/1416520953___2.htm
Going even further back in my past, there was a story called "The Churkendoose", I think it was put out by Little Golden Books, that I really identified with. It's about this bird hatched from an egg that was set on by a chicken, duck, turkey, and goose. It's kind of strange looking when it hatches, and talks only in rhyme. It doesn't walk "normally" but sort of does a tap-dance movement. At the end of the book is the Churkendoose Song, which I still remember to this day, more or less intact but not necessarily in order:
Does the pear tree say to the apple tree
"I hate you 'cause you're not like me?"
Does the green grass ask the sky so blue
"I'm green; why aren't you green too?"
A rose smells sweet, 'cause it's a flower.
An onion tastes strong, a pickle is sour.
They're different yet they get along
and no one seems to think it's wrong.
Must I be a chicken or goose?
Can't I be a churkendoose?
The moo-cow says, "I give milk."
The silkworm answers, "I make silk."
The horse says "Look how strong I am!"
The piggy answers, "I give ham."
"My skin makes leather," snorts the bull.
The sheep replies, "I grow wool."
Each one has it's special use.
I'm sure there's one for the Churkendoose!
I really identified with that character - I have always felt a bit out of place, somewhat useless, picked on and misunderstood. Plus de choses changent, plus le séjour de choses les mêmes. Or something like that.
Well, that's me feeling nostalgic today.
A long time ago, at about the age of 12, my father brought home Analog magazine. In it was a story entitled "The Dead Lady of Clown Town". It is about a futuristic society where people are programmed before birth (kind of like Brave New World), and the bulk of the work was done by underpeople, who were animals bred to look human but without any human rights. It talks about D'Joan, the dog girl, and how she martyred herself for the underpeople (pattered after Joan of Arc), and Elaine, the "witch" who was an accident. At any rate, even though I only read the story once, I would oftentimes throughout my life reflect back on it - I couldn't remember the name of the story, but Elaine and D'Joan preyed upon my mind. Finally today I googled "D'Joan" and "Dog-girl" and found the story! Here, for your reading enjoyment, is "The Dead Lady of Clown Town": http://www.webscription.net/chapters/1416520953/1416520953___2.htm
Going even further back in my past, there was a story called "The Churkendoose", I think it was put out by Little Golden Books, that I really identified with. It's about this bird hatched from an egg that was set on by a chicken, duck, turkey, and goose. It's kind of strange looking when it hatches, and talks only in rhyme. It doesn't walk "normally" but sort of does a tap-dance movement. At the end of the book is the Churkendoose Song, which I still remember to this day, more or less intact but not necessarily in order:
Does the pear tree say to the apple tree
"I hate you 'cause you're not like me?"
Does the green grass ask the sky so blue
"I'm green; why aren't you green too?"
A rose smells sweet, 'cause it's a flower.
An onion tastes strong, a pickle is sour.
They're different yet they get along
and no one seems to think it's wrong.
Must I be a chicken or goose?
Can't I be a churkendoose?
The moo-cow says, "I give milk."
The silkworm answers, "I make silk."
The horse says "Look how strong I am!"
The piggy answers, "I give ham."
"My skin makes leather," snorts the bull.
The sheep replies, "I grow wool."
Each one has it's special use.
I'm sure there's one for the Churkendoose!
I really identified with that character - I have always felt a bit out of place, somewhat useless, picked on and misunderstood. Plus de choses changent, plus le séjour de choses les mêmes. Or something like that.
Well, that's me feeling nostalgic today.
100% Profile Complete! |
Woohoo! w00t!
So... do I win a cookie? I can has cheezburger? Or have I just pointlessly wasted the past few weeks of my life???
... Don't answer that. Whatever latent "Type-A" personality I have picks the stupidest times to assert itself.
Why is my profile filled out 100% but I am only a 93% match with myself, 95% friend and 0% enemy? Does this mean I am not my own worst enemy, as I previously thought? Where is Walt Kelley when you need him?
This is a different thing - it's spontaneous and it's called 'wit'.
I feel the sudden need to re-read all 4 seasons of BlackAdder. Well, I am halfway through Neverwhere by Neil Gaiman, so I will finish that, but much as some people have "comfort foods", I have "comfort books". Books that I have reread countless times because they fill a need for a particular mood I am in. I have a few movies like that, such as "The World According to Garp", "Rocky Horror Picture Show", "The Breakfast Club", "Hairspray" (the one with Ricki Lake, although the one w/ John Travolta and Christopher Walken is pretty good too), and "To Wong Foo, Thanks for Everything, Love Julie Newmar".
Speaking of Christopher Walken, is there anything he won't do? I liked the Fatboy Slim video he was in.
Attack of the Random Incoherent Thoughts! Coming soon to a dog park near you!
So... do I win a cookie? I can has cheezburger? Or have I just pointlessly wasted the past few weeks of my life???
... Don't answer that. Whatever latent "Type-A" personality I have picks the stupidest times to assert itself.
Why is my profile filled out 100% but I am only a 93% match with myself, 95% friend and 0% enemy? Does this mean I am not my own worst enemy, as I previously thought? Where is Walt Kelley when you need him?
This is a different thing - it's spontaneous and it's called 'wit'.
I feel the sudden need to re-read all 4 seasons of BlackAdder. Well, I am halfway through Neverwhere by Neil Gaiman, so I will finish that, but much as some people have "comfort foods", I have "comfort books". Books that I have reread countless times because they fill a need for a particular mood I am in. I have a few movies like that, such as "The World According to Garp", "Rocky Horror Picture Show", "The Breakfast Club", "Hairspray" (the one with Ricki Lake, although the one w/ John Travolta and Christopher Walken is pretty good too), and "To Wong Foo, Thanks for Everything, Love Julie Newmar".
Speaking of Christopher Walken, is there anything he won't do? I liked the Fatboy Slim video he was in.
Attack of the Random Incoherent Thoughts! Coming soon to a dog park near you!
OMG Yay for me! |
Yeah, well, I am pleased with myself - made Mongolian Beef from
scratch for the first time last night and it actually tasted
like Mongolian Beef! Woohoo! I made too much sauce though so I
am going to see how it tastes on chicken tonight.
This has been a random post because I am bored and trying to get enough courage to go on an adventure by myself... well, with my dog and possibly my guitar. I found a dog park up in Estes Park but it's a bit of a drive... I might just take her to Confluence Park, which is much closer and we can play in the Platte River. Cloud is a good method of meeting people - not as in "hooking up", but I am painfully shy, and dogs are good ice-breakers for conversation. I met a nice lady from Hawaii there once, and we talked about all kinds of dog-related stuff. Hey, I like dogs, better than I like most people...
I have been drinking coffee with some St. Brendan's in it... not a lot; I am not tipsy or buzzed or anything. I will probably wait a bit before I drive anywhere though, to be safe. Plus I have to convince myself to peel myself out of this chair and get some clothes on. It seems like such an effort sometimes. Or I could just relax and enjoy a day off and to hell with everything else. Play computer games or read or take more pointless quizzes or otherwise not take any effort towards self-improvement at all. Meh.
So why am I writing pointless crap in this? I dunno. I think it's because one of the advantages of journaling is simply putting stuff down as it appears in your head and then later on go back and try to make some sense of it. I am not asking anyone to read this; indeed, I think the whole process of this on-line journaling/blogging caters to most people's innate voyeurism. It's a glimpse into someone else's private thoughts. It is similar to watching someone getting undressed in a window. But you gotta wonder - that person getting undressed, 10 times out of 11, KNOWS they are stripping in a window where anyone can see them. It's a symbiotic relationship. All this online stuff (OKC, Mary, MySpace, LJ, etc) is just someone stripping in a window shouting "Look at me! Look at me!" and all the readers are the guy lurking in the bushes outside the window with binoculars.
Yeah, well.. I will make myself something to eat then go somewhere with my dog.
This has been a random post because I am bored and trying to get enough courage to go on an adventure by myself... well, with my dog and possibly my guitar. I found a dog park up in Estes Park but it's a bit of a drive... I might just take her to Confluence Park, which is much closer and we can play in the Platte River. Cloud is a good method of meeting people - not as in "hooking up", but I am painfully shy, and dogs are good ice-breakers for conversation. I met a nice lady from Hawaii there once, and we talked about all kinds of dog-related stuff. Hey, I like dogs, better than I like most people...
I have been drinking coffee with some St. Brendan's in it... not a lot; I am not tipsy or buzzed or anything. I will probably wait a bit before I drive anywhere though, to be safe. Plus I have to convince myself to peel myself out of this chair and get some clothes on. It seems like such an effort sometimes. Or I could just relax and enjoy a day off and to hell with everything else. Play computer games or read or take more pointless quizzes or otherwise not take any effort towards self-improvement at all. Meh.
So why am I writing pointless crap in this? I dunno. I think it's because one of the advantages of journaling is simply putting stuff down as it appears in your head and then later on go back and try to make some sense of it. I am not asking anyone to read this; indeed, I think the whole process of this on-line journaling/blogging caters to most people's innate voyeurism. It's a glimpse into someone else's private thoughts. It is similar to watching someone getting undressed in a window. But you gotta wonder - that person getting undressed, 10 times out of 11, KNOWS they are stripping in a window where anyone can see them. It's a symbiotic relationship. All this online stuff (OKC, Mary, MySpace, LJ, etc) is just someone stripping in a window shouting "Look at me! Look at me!" and all the readers are the guy lurking in the bushes outside the window with binoculars.
Yeah, well.. I will make myself something to eat then go somewhere with my dog.
Weird Sensations |
Last year, I had both of my knees operated on. Arthroscopic surgery
to remove a bunch of build-up, and something called a 'lateral
release' (cutting the ligaments) was done to both knees, to allow
the patella to move correctly. Well, one thing I have noticed (less
now than the months immediately following the surgery) is that when
I stop walking, it feels as though the muscles in my thighs right
above the knees are still moving back and forth. Not like excess
body fat jiggles, but more as if I had animate jello creatures
living above my knees. It's not painful, but it feels really weird,
as if part of my leg is about to fly away.
Put a Hershey's® kiss on the back of your tongue, and drink a cup of good hot coffee, and feel the chocolate slowly melt down your throat. It's a neat taste sensation and feels.... interesting.
At least once in your life, sleep naked on fur. Even if it's fake fur. Pet hair on the bed doesn't count.
This isn't really a weird sensation, but I like it all the same. I call it "The Human Swamp Cooler". Just take a quick rinse with cold water, don't towel off, and lie under a working ceiling fan. It's just a bumped-up version of the body's natural cooling system.
Put a Hershey's® kiss on the back of your tongue, and drink a cup of good hot coffee, and feel the chocolate slowly melt down your throat. It's a neat taste sensation and feels.... interesting.
At least once in your life, sleep naked on fur. Even if it's fake fur. Pet hair on the bed doesn't count.
This isn't really a weird sensation, but I like it all the same. I call it "The Human Swamp Cooler". Just take a quick rinse with cold water, don't towel off, and lie under a working ceiling fan. It's just a bumped-up version of the body's natural cooling system.
Thinking |
So I re-read Just Wait Until you have Kids of Your Own! by Erma
Bombeck with illustrations by Bil Keane (the Family Circus guy). I
was bawling at the end of it. Time does move too quickly; I try to
avoid telling my kids to "grow up!" because all too soon they DO
grow up. But I confess to looking at my children with awe from time
to time. Pretty soon we will be down to just the one, and he is
already a bit of an independent cuss (despite being only 9!). I
could go on to quote Harry Chapin's song "Cat's in the Cradle" but
I think I have used up my allotment of sentimentality for this
evening.
I wonder if this accepts font attributes in its limited acceptance of HTML tags. LA LA LA THIS IS SUPPOSED TO BE DARK GREEN
I think what this country needs is re-education in manners and compassion. To paraphrase Heinlein, a rude society is the sign of a sick culture. It starts with the state of public restrooms. But this constant crackberry™-ing is near the epitome of rudeness. HELLO??? I don't want to go to dinner with you if you are just going to text on that damn thing all night. And if it rings during my movie, I hope you are prepared to learn a most uncomfortable manner of sitting. And it's just plain rude and disgusting to be talking on your cell phone while on the toilet in a public restroom (rude to the person you are talking to, unless perhaps he/she gets off on that sort of thing).
Forgive the disjointedness of this post. I am hot, tired, and bored and am having difficulty focusing on the screen. I think I will go to bed now. Toodles!
I wonder if this accepts font attributes in its limited acceptance of HTML tags. LA LA LA THIS IS SUPPOSED TO BE DARK GREEN
I think what this country needs is re-education in manners and compassion. To paraphrase Heinlein, a rude society is the sign of a sick culture. It starts with the state of public restrooms. But this constant crackberry™-ing is near the epitome of rudeness. HELLO??? I don't want to go to dinner with you if you are just going to text on that damn thing all night. And if it rings during my movie, I hope you are prepared to learn a most uncomfortable manner of sitting. And it's just plain rude and disgusting to be talking on your cell phone while on the toilet in a public restroom (rude to the person you are talking to, unless perhaps he/she gets off on that sort of thing).
Forgive the disjointedness of this post. I am hot, tired, and bored and am having difficulty focusing on the screen. I think I will go to bed now. Toodles!
