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Here you'll find some things I've written myself, as well as other things that I just like and think you should read

THE SURVEY
Almost everything you'd ever wanna know about me!

last updated Jan 9 02

BASICS
1. Full Name: Elizabeth Adelle Wiedner
2. Nickname: Lizzie :-) how CUTE!
3. Birthday: March 7th (hooray for pisces, eh!)
4. Age: the big one-seven! YISSAH, that spells "legal" :-D about damned time.
5. Eye color: Brown... yeah you may think brown's uninteresting, but imagine life without all that is brown... Mud, Bark, Poo... see?
6. Hair: uber-short, dark brown, messy
7. Height: 5'7" ... i hope i'm done growinnnnggg
8. Where do you live?: ze house of bamBOO! ... yah. FREALZ, y0!
9. Where were you born?: Yuma, AZ ... that one Star Wars scene with the tall walkie machine thingies (nice use of technical terms) you know... in the desert. That was Yuma!!

FAVORITES
1. Food:it's a tie between volcano rolls (GOOD sushi) and plain cheeseburgers from Burger Zone. Mmm Mmmmmmmm
2. Drink: Doode :-) Jack in the Box knows where it's at... Oreo shake!!
3. TV show: Space Ghost Coast to Coast *purrr*
4. Movie: SLC Punk, Shrek, Human Traffic
5. Song: [loaded question, so I'll just name a few]
Wishing on a Star (88.3 feat. Lisa May), Drowning (
AK1200)
... my non-electronic choices include 311 (YESSSSSSS!!), Jimmy Eat World, Caviar, Coldplay, and a recent discovery: Mindless Self Indulgence. Yisaahhhh!
6. Song Lyrics: "It's not - she's a tramp. It's not - she's not pure. She just likes getting her fuck on and it's a good one at that, I'm sure." ~ Custom (just the first thing that came to my mind this time)
7. Class: Coach Haney's, cause Kris is in there and Coach is a baddasssss :-)
8. Book: The Perks of Being a Wallflower. It's like a modern version of Catcher in the Rye, I'd have to say - which I also love. And even though it was more of a [short?] story than a book, I enjoyed Anthem (Aynn Raynd) a lot. They're all very similarly-themed.
9. Video Game:My all time fave is Snake Rattle N Roll, I also dig Super Bust-a-Move (thanks to Misha) and DDR *dun dun dun!!*
10. Magazine: Urb can rock it :-)
11. Perfume (for girls):Happy!
12. Cologne (for guys): Emporio Armani, Aqua di Gio, Candies, Curve... I wubs me some pwitty-smelling bois!
13. Shoe Brand: Adidas, and anything cute w/ velcro!
14. Clothing Brand: Halogen, KikGirl (pardon the contradiction)
15. Store: Nordstrom, Gap, Retro Revolution, Hot Topic
16. Flower: Daisies!! :-) *hinthint guys!*
17. Name for Girls: Destiny
18. Name for Guys: Charlie - *melts* this name is it! :-)
19. Toy: Yo-yos, penny-racers (someone please tell me you remember penny-racers!), ...lighters…
20. Word: Anything where I can change an F to a PH (phunky) or the other way around (headfones), an I to a Y (smyle), or an OO to EW (gewd)
21. Flavor Icecream: If you go to Marble Slab Creamery, honey is delish! Choc. Chip Cookie Dough is God's favorite tho, so who can argue??
22. Pizza Topping: Hamburger and pineapple!! Mmmmm. Plain Cheese is also always do-able *nod*. Pepperoni is E V I L ewww.
23. Fast Food:Baja chalupa from Taco bell is bueno! But as I said before, Burger Zone is WHERE IT'S AT!
24. Color: Hmmm.... piiiiinkkkkkk
25. Piece of clothing: hmmm... my adidas!
26. Car: Hehe - I’m more of a truck luvin girl. My cup of tea would be a 2002 Dodge Truck Ram Chassis Cab 4X2, or a 2002 Ford F-350 w/ supercrew cab, extended bed, dual rear wheels… metallic hot pink! I kid you not. I’d live in that baby.
27. Quote:"I rest my case on this: in a country of lost souls, rebellion comes hard. But in a religously oppressive city, which half it's popluation isn't even of that religion, it comes like fire." ~ SLC Punk, Stevo

OTHER STUFF
1. Are you single or taken?:taken - happily so!!
2. What do you like about the guy/girl you have a crush on? (no names!): Aww heehee... *grin* He's purrr-fect. I not only like him for who he is, but for who I am when I'm with him. He totally lights me up - I can't not smile when he's around! He is just such a GOOD guy - I mean seriously sweet, charming as -ever- and above all: *genuine*. And everyone knows I am a H-U-G-E softie for musicians!! Hehe, not to mention he is killer gorgeous :-D My heart goes pitter-patter over his eyes and smile *purrr* ... he is just delish all over! Ravers are HOT! He's the hottest!! Really, really wicked. I think I've hit the jackpot *smyle*
3. What is your idea of the ideal guy/girl?: Someone who can make me laugh. And someone who can make me laugh at myself… Intelligent, musically or artistically gifted (or at least inclined)… goal-oriented.. A guy I feel like I can trust, and who will trust me too. *The sort of person who makes me light up every time I see him.* Someone who’s not a push-over, and who will challenge me intellectually, and however else he likes ;-)
4. If you could be any celebrity, who would it be?: Britney Spears. That is all.
5. What do you collect?: pants, I think. 23 pairs and growing. taha
6. What do you wanna be when you grow up?: hehe... a copy editor *snorts dorkily*
7. What are your weirdest habits?: making animal noises… hm, in fact just noises, really. *meow* ... and BITING. *rawr*
8. What are your weirdest eating habits?: It's mostly a "salty"/"sweet" issue. Most people don't seem to get it! If I eat a bunch of sugary stuff, then I need a salty taste to mello all that out. And the same for the other way around. So I like to eat like, cake with chips or w/e. You get the idea?
9. What are you afraid of?: the dark *me quivers just at the thought* deer jebus I can barely even walk thru my own house at night any more!
10. What’s the best concert/party you’ve ever been to?: As far as concerts go, I have only been to one (Edgefest 2K) which was a total blast! As for parties... DFKK was awesome AWESOME POSSUM! I was standing in the very front row to see Irene OMG! [end teeny-bopper mode] hehehe... anyway I really dug This Island Earth, too. There was so much to love about that party... Intimate, pure vibe, badass music, friends all around me :-)
11. If you could have a special power, what would it be?: Scratch flying, that fun would wear off... I'm all about the *telekinesis* heehee *evil grin* ... And I spelled it right this time, too! :-P REALLY this time!
12. When was the last time you cried?: When I watched SLC Punk *sniffle* ... Poor Heroin-Bob... Poor Stevo :-(
13. Where is the best hang-out spot?: *Any* place if I'm wif muh bud-E'z! I *heart* my fwiends!
14. What is the best feeling?: laughing a LOT, hard, for a loooong time... till you can hardly speak or breathe!
15. Have you ever cross-dressed?: This is a stupid question.
Of course I have cross-dressed. I do it all the time, y0. It's cause I'm fawkin cool. (no. not really.)
16. (For Girls) Do you like guys better w/ or w/o hats?: I dig guys in hats, that always looks gewd :-) But it's not a requirement, lol... they can get in the way, yanno.
17. What’s the dumbest thing you’ve ever said?: meh, I say stupid things all the time, it would be a tough contest. people just kind of smile and nod when i start to talk, now... YOU LOSERS!
18. Describe yourself in 5 words: Oh, if only you knew...
19. Describe coffee in 3 words: hot, creamy, addictive
20. Do you have any piercings?: 3 holes in each ear... and my tongue.
21. If you could get away with it, what spectral color would you dye your hair?: well... I've done fire-engine red and navy blue so far... let's shoot for green. GRASSY-style. :-)
22. What will you be this Halloween?: This year I was a fairy. You can see the pics - go look! Last year I was Raggedy Anne, since I’d just accidentally dyed my hair that fire-engine red I just mentioned. Well it was kind of an accident anyway. hehe.... Next year... I might be.... a... raver.
23. If you could change anything about yourself, what would it be?: less indecisive, less easily confused, less easily distracted, pwittier

WHAT/WHO COMES TO MIND WHEN YOU THINK OF…
1. Red: vroooom!
2. Orange:nothing rhymes with it. door hinge?
3. Blue: Blue's Clues
4. Green: puff the magic dragon eh eh
5. Yellow:Yellow means "go agead"
6. Kitties: I have this SailorMoon toy that meows, and the eyes light up... its wrong and a little disturbing.
7. Doggies:(brace yourself...) PUPPIEEEEEEEESSS!!!!!!
8. Coffee: Sex. From an email quiz some time back... It asked you to describe coffee, and then said that that is your perspective on sex.
9. Aliens: Ravers with bigger eyes
10. Kisses: Sublime
11. Mint: turn it around and it spells TNIM
12. Chocolate: It's delish when I'm in the mood :-) for chocolate
13. Trees: they grow.. places...
14. Cherries: cherry flavored cough drops are gewwwwwwd - Ludens Wild Cherry, y0!
15. Rain:If you rearrange the letters, and then put them back how you found them... you get "rain".


A SENSATIONAL THRESHOLD
A personal essay about the the middle of the night, when it really all begins...

Entering a party is seriously like becoming a part of a completely different world... shedding off the weight of the week and getting down the those fine beats.

A party in the winter... It's beautiful from the moment you step out of your car. You peel off your hoodie, underneath which you're wearing bearly anything just because you know that once you get your dance on, your body temp will rise into the thousands. Lock the doors and follow the stream of fellow party-go'ers toward the doors, drawn into sweet communion by the thud of the bass, permeating through the night air.

As you wait in line, you always meet at least 3 people you know. 1 stranger will ask you for a ciagrette and a completely different one will ask for a light. No matter where you are, you will always hear one young girl anxiously wondering, out loud, if her fake ID will really work. There's always a couple girls wearing fairy wings, and a couple guys at the end of the line, begging people for "just a dollar!" Despite their weirdness, you still greet them all - friends and strangers alike - cheerfully... You're all there to get your party on, nothing's bringing ya down.

As the line draws closer to the door, everyone clusters in a little closer, teased by the steadily thudding bass. Finally it's your turn with Mr. Thang, the security man who's 8 feet taller than you. No sweat, you show 'em your ticket, empty out your pockets, and bid the man good night.

And there's that moment we live for - it all hits you at once. You pass through the open door and feel yourself slip through that blurry barrier where the cold air of the real world stops, and the warm air begins that says "This is where the vibe starts." The bass line rumbles through your chest, at a frequency powerful enough to wake the dead... at or least revive the soul! You breathe it in deeper as you round the corner, opening your eyes to the exotic array of colored light sweeping across the room. Splashes of plain and patterned light illuminate the dance floor, revealing ephemeral moments of human joy - people moving, bodies grooving. And it's all beautiful! And you get that sweet flutter in your heart that tells you it's time to dance - those fine beats have given your heart a jumpstart.

So you make yourself a part of it.


THE RAVER'S MANIFESTO
Our emotional state of choice is Ecstasy. Our nourishment of choice is Love. Our addiction of choice is technology. Our religion of choice is music. Our currency of choice is knowledge. Our politics of choice is none. Our society of choice is utopian, though we know it will never be.

You may hate us. You may dismiss us. You may misunderstand us. You may be unaware of our existence. We can only hope you do not care to judge us, because we would never judge you. We are not criminals. We are not disillusioned. We are not drug addicts. We are not naive children. We are one massive, global, tribal village that transcends man-made law, physical geography, and time itself.

We are The Massive. One Massive.

We were first drawn by the sound. From far away, the thunderous, muffled, echoing beat was comparable to a mother's heart soothing a child in her womb of concrete, steel, and electrical wiring. We were drawn back into this womb, and there, in the heat, dampness, and darkness of it, we came to accept that we are all equal. Not only to the darkness, and to ourselves, but to the very music slamming into us and passing through our souls: we are all equal.

And somewhere around 35Hz we could feel the hand of God at our backs, pushing us forward, pushing us to push ourselves to strengthen our minds, our bodies, and our spirits. Pushing us to turn to the person beside us to join hands and uplift them by sharing the uncontrollable joy we felt from creating this magical bubble that can, for one evening, protect us from the horrors, atrocities, and pollution of the outside world. It is in that very instant, with these initial realizations that each of us was truly born.

We continue to pack our bodies into clubs, or warehouses, or buildings you've abandoned and left for naught, and we bring life to them for one night. Strong, throbbing, vibrant life in it's purest, most intense, most hedonistic form. In these makeshift spaces, we seek to shed ourselves of the burden of uncertainty for a future you have been unable to stabilize and secure for us. We seek to relinquish our inhibitions, and free ourselves from the shackles and restraints you've put on us for your own peace of mind. We seek to re-write the programming that you have tried to indoctrinate us with since the moment we were born. Programming that tells us to hate, that tells us to judge, that tells us to stuff ourselves into the nearest and most convenient pigeon hole possible. Programming that even tells us to climb ladders for you, jump through hoops, and run through mazes and on hamster wheels. Programming that tells us to eat from the shiny silver spoon you are trying to feed us with, instead of nourish ourselves with our own capable hands. Programming that tells us to close our minds, instead of open them.

Until the sun rises to burn our eyes by revealing the distopian reality of a world you've created for us, we dance fiercely with our brothers and sisters in celebration of our life, of our culture, and of the values we believe in: Peace, Love, Freedom, Tolerance, Unity, Harmony, Expression, Responsibility and Respect.

Our enemy of choice is ignorance. Our weapon of choice is information. Our crime of choice is breaking and challenging whatever laws you feel you need to put in place to stop us from celebrating our existence. But know that while you may shut down any given party, on any given night, in any given city, in any given country or continent on this beautiful planet, you can never shut down the entire party. You don't have access to that switch, no matter what you may think. The music will never stop. The heartbeat will never fade. The party will never end.

I am a raver, and this is my manifesto.


DROPS OF JUPITER
by Train

Now that she's back in the atmosphere
With drops of Jupiter in her hair,
She acts like summer and walks like rain
Reminds me that there's time to change,
Since the return from her stay on the moon
She listens like spring and she talks like June

Tell me, did you sail across the sun?
Did you make it to the Milky Way to see the lights all faded,
And that heaven is overrated?

Tell me, did you fall for a shooting star
One without a permanent scar? And did you miss me while you were looking for yourself out there?

Now that she's back from that soul vacation
Tracing her way through the constellations,
She checks out Mozart while she does tae-bo
Reminds me that there's time to grow,

Now that she's back in the atmosphere
I'm afraid that she might think of me as plain ol' Jane
Told a story about a man who is too afraid to fly
so he never did land

Tell me, did the wind sweep you off your feet?
Did you finally get the chance to dance along the light of day,
And head back to the Milky Way?
And tell me, did Venus blow your mind?
Was it everything you wanted to find,
And did you miss me while you were looking for yourself out there?

Can you imagine no love, pride, deep-fried chicken?
Your best friend always sticking up for you
even when I know you're wrong
Can you imagine no first dance, freeze dried romance,
five-hour phone conversation
The best soy latte that you ever had . . . and me


STUCK IN A MOMENT
by U2... I can really relate to this at times

I'm not afraid
Of anything in this world
There's nothing you can throw at me
That I haven't already heard

I'm just trying to find
A decent melody
A song that I can sing
In my own company

I never thought you were a fool
But darling look at you
You gotta stand up straight
Carry your own weight
These tears are going nowhere baby

You've got to get yourself together
You've got stuck in a moment
And now you can't get out of it

Don't say that later will be better
Now you're stuck in a moment
And you can't get out of it

I will not forsake
The colors that you bring
The nights you filled with fireworks
They left you with nothing

I am still enchanted
By the light you brought to me
I listen through your ears
Through your eyes I can see

And you are such a fool
To worry like you do
I know it's tough
And you can never get enough
Of what you don't really need now

My, oh my

You've got to get yourself together
You've got stuck in a moment
And you can't get out of it

Oh love, look at you now
You've got yourself stuck in a moment
And you can't get out of it

I was unconscious, half asleep
The water is warm 'til you discover how deep

I wasn't jumping, for me it was a fall
It's a long way down to nothing at all

You've got to get yourself together
You've got stuck in a moment
And you can't get out of it

Don't say that later will be better
Now you're stuck in a moment
And you can't get out of it

And if the night runs over
And if the day won't last
And if our way should falter
Along the stony pass

And if the night runs over
And if the day won't last
And if your way should falter
Along this stony pass

It's just a moment
This time will pass


SHE WALKS IN BEAUTY LIKE THE NIGHT
by Lord Byron - I think this is one of the sweetest love poems I have ever read!

She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that's best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes:
Thus mellow'd to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

One shade the more, on ray the less,
Had half impair'd the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o'er her face;
Where thoughts serenly sweet express
How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.

And on that cheek, and o'er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent!


GENUINE JOY RIDE
I experienced this a few days after a friend of mine died this year, and wrote it the next morning at work.

You know how sometimes that song is on, and wind is blowing through your hair because you've got all the windows down. The temperature is just right so you feel like you fit into your skin perfectly -- the air seems that much easier to breathe, and it even tastes a little sweet right now. Every color around you is so pure it's kind of crazy, and you want to say something really poetic, even though that would be so corny. Every chance is worth taking. And now you get it, even though you weren't thinking about it before. Then somehow you feel that you owe it to this moment to just cry, because that would really make it complete.


DISTRACTION
I wrote this one morning after a really rough night. Like I said before, I was a little messed up.

My stomach hurts, and I can't get this screaming song out of my head. The pace of my heartbeat rises and falls, just as flashes of goosebumps come and then leave. I can count over and over in my head the variety of mistakes I probably only have myself to blame for. From time to time I may raise my head and look around the room, but I don't really see anything that's there. Instead, I see the things I could have changed. Outstretched before my face, I blankly observe my hands, rotating them as I study my wrists. As I have formed the habit of doing, I wrap my fingers around my wrist -- then realize for the first time that the reason they fit is probably not that my wrists have gotten smaller, but that my fingers have grown longer since I was young. Distracted, I hear this man's voice and wonder if it always sounded that way. I'm not understanding any of it, because as hard as I try,I can't listen. I'm just hearing his voice. My hands are dry. And then I remember that this other thing bothers me, but I don't even know if I'd want it to change if that was ever possible. I guess that means it's all really for the best. Thinking about it makes my stomach flutter a little, so I curl up into a tighter ball. As if it's not random enough, I think of all the free chocolate I used to get at Godiva. This girl in front of me picks up her pen, and for some reason I think she's going to throw it at this other girl, but she doesn't. It all finally ends and I'm about to move on to a place where I'm allowed to be mindless. But really all I can think about is that email and the way this song keeps screaming.


DANCING TO A DIFFERENT BEAT
A personal narrative about my discovery of hip-hop... and a little bit of "independance."

The cool air inside Core Records chilled our skin from the summer heat as we entered the bedroom-size music store. As my eyes adjusted to the dim florescent lighting, I followed Keeley to the same back left-hand corner we always went to. There, I stood by her side and watched blandly as she fingered through the same record selections she always did – garage and house. Those were what she liked to play most. Keeley wanted to be a DJ some day – the real kind. Not like the ones you see at school dances. When she began pulling her carefully-selected LPs from the slots in the shelf, I decided to play along. So I, too, diligently selected a number of records for myself from the same sections. Of course all I sought out were the ones with the prettiest covers, not knowing any better.

That’s just how it always went, without fail, on the usually-multiple occasions a week we would visit Core. With an armful of records, I planted myself in from of a turntable and hooked the headphones around my neck, just like DJs like to do. Keeley was already listening to some record with a blue and yellow label. She stood with her shoulders slumped and a half-frown on her face as she stared plainly at the 12-inch disc before her, spinning at 33 rpm. This sort of expression left no doubt she wasn’t pleased with the track. I gave a mental shrug and laid down one of my own records, “Loverboy” by Mariah Carey. It’s not that it was a bad or boring track, I just never liked the song much to begin with. Nose crinkled with dislike, I picked the needle up and pulled the record off the table, slipping it gingerly back into its cover, between the two leaflets of tissue paper.

“No good?” Keeley asked with an eyebrow raised.

“Tastefully dull,” I replied after a pause, trying to soften my opinion, because I know it was something she would like.

“Gimme…” she said skeptically as I passed it into her outstretched hand.

The last four records took me all of half a minute to sift through – none really stroked my musical fancy. Disheartened, I cast my view to the opposite side of the room where the shelves harbored drum&bass, jungle, and hip-hop. The music of seasoned rebels, and the kids who really knew how to dance. You could tell the music ran thick in their veins and never left their heads. None of the covers were particularly pretty to me as I scanned over them, but my eye fell on one in particular, anyway. Busta Rhymes, called “Woo-Hah,” and the jacket was plain white. I could feel Keeley’s eyes on me as I took off my headphones and timidly approached the front-right corner of the room, where this gem of the jungle music lay.

I felt out of place in this region of Core Records, and Keeley’s glance questioned me.“Something new,” I said with a casual shrug.

“What is it?” she asked suspiciously, knowing I wasn’t normally particularly fond of jungle.

“I dunno, it just looks neat,” I lied, deliberately covering the label with my hand as I picked it up. My lips puckered into a defiant grin. I knew Keeley must have been shocked at my lack of need for her guidance, which made me want to wretch. I could make my own decisions, dammit, and I could be different, too! Of course all she ever did was support me. But who ever said someone always had to hold my hand and show me the way? No one, which is my point exactly.

Who would have guessed the impact this new-found music would have on me? The rhythm and tone of Busta’s voice peaked an unfamiliar interest inside me. With the record’s cover in my hands, I examined the title of each track. What I was listening to was listed as the “hip-hop” remix, which direction my attention to the other end of the shelf where the labels all read “hip-hop.”

This time more boldly, I retrieved “Can I Kick It?” by A Tribe Called Quest. The lyrics rang in my ears, spreading like wildfire through my head. “Wipe your feet really good on the rhythm rug,” it said, and I did, earning a grin from Chris who worked behind the counter. He liked to see people enjoying the beats. I simply smiled back and gave a thumbs-up, dancing a little more, then. It was like the music filled in all those nooks and crannies of something missing inside me, and I felt more whole because of it. The music ran thick in my veins and never left my head.


FELIX FENEON: OUR TIMES
It started out with this picture by Paul Signac... And then I had to know who Felix Feneon was. Felix Feneon was a fin de siecle aesthete and anarchist... and had a most unique style of news reporting... do read!

Below are Felix Feneon's news items, translated by Edward Morris for Evergreen Review, vol.4, no.13, 1960:

Scatching it with a hair-triggered revolver, Mr. Ed... B... removed the
end of his nose, in the Vivienne police station.

Falling from a scaffolding at the same time as Mr.Dury,
stone-mason, of Marseille, a stone crushed his skull.

Louis Lamarre had neither work nor lodging; but he did have a few
coppers. he bought a quart of kerosene from a grocer in Saint Denis,
and drank it.

A madwoman of Puechabon (Herault), Mrs. Bautiol, nee Herail,
used a club to awaken her parents-in-law.

At finding her son Hyacinth, 69, hanged, Mrs. Ranvier, of Bussy-
Saint-Georges, was so depressed she couldn't cut the rope.

In Essoyes (Aube), Bernard, 25, bludeoned Mr. Dufert, who is 89,
and stabbed his wife. He was jealous.

In Brest, thanks to a smoker's carelessness, Miss Ledru, all done up
in tulle, was badly burned on thighs and breasts.

In Djiajelli, a thirteen-year-old virgin, propositioned by a lewd rake
of ten, did him in with three knife-blows.

Scissors in hand, Marie le Goeffic was playing on a swing. So that,
falling, she punctured her abdomen. In Bretonneau.

Not finding his daugher of 19 austere enough, the Saint-Etienne
jewler Jallat killed her. He still, it is true, has eleven other children.

"What! all those children perched on my wall?" With eight shots,
Mr. Olive, a Toulon property-owner made them scramble down,
covered with blood.

Marie Jandeau, a handsome girl well known to many gentlemen of
Toulon, suffocated in her room last night, on purpose.

A Nancy dishwasher, Vital Frerotte, recently returned from Lourdes
forever cured of tuberculosis, died, on Sunday, by mistake.

Miss Verbeau did manage to hit Marie Champion, in the breast, but
she burned her own eye, for a bowl of vitriol is not an accurate weapon.

At skittles apoplexy felled Mr. Andre, 75, of Levallois. While his
bowl was still rolling, he ceased to be.


COMPROMISE
Selling myself short?

I'm done. And believe me, that's pretty sad. Particularly because I stopped at about halfway. It just seemed alright to me, since I was pretty aware that I hadn't the ability to do much else. So now I'm sitting here, kind of wishing I had a corner to lean into. Something steel-blue or dark-gray sort of like those I saw in the beginning of the worst nightmare ever. Or at least I think that's what it was. Anyway I should have one of those reserved for myself. I'm starting to find a little humor in some of the more hopeless aspects of my life. Some of the Go-Getter types might say that I'm quitting while I'm still behind, or in other words giving up. I call it realizing my limitations. More realistic folk might agree with me that the bane of being human, like most of us are, would be that your possibilities really do fall somewhere short of the stars. See, I'm a Go-Getter, too. But I believe there's something to be said for knowing where to draw the lie. Be ambitious, but don't set yourself up for dissapointment. Set goals you won't really have to work for. How's that for compromise?


KNOWING: AND MY PERSONAL BATTLE
It's been said that Knowing is half the battle... when at arms with one's self, I advise, know thyself

I feel 110% more in control of myself right now than ever have before, and that includes about 20 minutes ago. Empowered by my own choice to just fuckin do it. That’s will power. Strength. I watched my time and ability evaporate while I stalled, whimpering and whining about problems perpetuated solely by myself. Fuck ‘em. That’s right. Enough. The time rolled around where I got about as sick of my own bitching as I do of everyone else’s. Take my advice, Liz, and SUCK IT UP. Your restraints are imaginary – that’s just you. Excuses.. Time for a change, ya baby! So I take myself by the hand and destroy the whole thing, piece by piece. It’s huge; I spent quite some time quietly constructing it. The being is simply not worth it any longer, to be honest. I got messy near the end. Frazzled, confused, uncertain, paranoid. That was a front, and I think you saw the “smile” wearing thin from time to time, as well. You noticed that, huh. So what I’m talking about is bringing down that wall. Built from Nothing. Notions of inability, misconstrued intentions, errors not preceded by trials, impressions of imperfection. And I’ve been found wanting. Has not the time arrived to cast aside this host of self-destructive activities, ideas, infatuations, – you fill in the blank. Productivity, not even increased, - just productivity period- is 50% of my solution. GI Joe will sing the praises of knowing, which is the other half… “of the battle” goes the saying. Check. That’s what it’s all about, you know. Knowing!


EVERYDAY ANGELS
From a compelete stranger, I have realized something I feel is fairly remarkable. Maybe you can relate on some level...

There are times that you will meet the most intriguing person while traveling. That moment in which you come to realize that you may never see that person again for as long as you live can be remarkably disarming. You've found something in them that you've come to genuinely adore within a very short amount of time -- and as swiftly as you lose touch, this trait becomes entirely represenative of the same quality in every other idividual who you know or love -- in whom you have always taken this for granted. You're far from home and the things you know, and find yourself overwhelmingly touched by this minute but significant recognition. Perhaps it's some inflection in their voice, or their refreshing disposition. It could be the way they move. Maybe it's just something in their smile. Whatever it is, you find this person so appealing in the most encompassing way because of it. And even more than you are drawn to them, you desperately long to be near someone from home. Someone in particular, maybe, or someone in general. In my case, life is the particulars, through and through.

I understand, now, the way in which absence can cause the heart to grow fonder. When an attractive quality in a complete stranger pronounces the same quality in someone much more dear to me, my appreciation for that dear person simply flourishes. Instead of questioning why it took a stranger to show me this, I am pleased to be reminded of one of the countless reasons I consider daily the fact that I might be in love.

One's consideration for the situation, though, may exist on several different levels. Aside from my deliciously enamoured state, there is a more challenging aspect which truly propelled this notion of your "Everyday Angel" ... The way in which such a comparatively fleeting acquaintance can impact your life or perspective - and the disarming feeling of loss once they are gone. What about the impact of those individuals who are fixtures in your everyday life - and what tremendous loss might plague you with their parting? When you know what I mean, that's the time where you realize the profound way in which you care for some people... Love. Perhaps you didn't even know it before - and this Angel showed you. Or perhaps you forgot to notice, for a while - and this Angel reminded you. It's mind-blowing. In one short day, this Everyday Angel shed light on my Love.