I want to put this pic on all of my Christmas cards this year. It SO rocks!
Snoop Santa
11.30.2006
11.28.2006
Postcards from Hell
I was cruising around the web, looking for something to read, looking for some inspiration for my next movie review, looking for some way to kill the next 2hours and 45minutes until I get to leave the office, when I came upon this, via ghost's blog. It has much the same appeal as Found Magazine, if you're familiar. It's like being an anonymous voyer into another anonymous someone's private life for just a moment. I guess that's much of what reading blogs is all about, but take a look and see for yourself. I might even consider submitting something myself. I used to trade these things called "decos" when I was more into the penpal thing. They're basically a homemade booklet with a theme. The booklet is passed from person to person and each recipient must decorate a page following the theme and pass it on. Some of the entries on this Post Secret site remind me of pages from those books.
Looks like I'm helping out at a concert tonight after work. Should be fun. I don't know who's playing though, but I'll likely get to meet them. Now, I just have to find a way to get down there without a car...
Looks like I'm helping out at a concert tonight after work. Should be fun. I don't know who's playing though, but I'll likely get to meet them. Now, I just have to find a way to get down there without a car...
11.27.2006
It Sticks Like Hell
Things that stick to black clothing:
Cat hair, lint, dryer sheets, socks, underwear, dust, snow, styrafoam, thread, confetti, yarn, glitter, glitter glue, eyelashes, mud, spooge, snot, hair, cat litter, crumbs, small shreds of paper, horse hair, dog hair, gerbil hair, gerbil snot, drool, coffee, mustard, cigarette ashes, miscenllaneous odors, sewing needles, dust bunnies, post-it notes, blankets, tiny rocks, paperclips, static, tissues, rain, little beatles, orange juice, marmalade, sour cream, whipped cream, cream cheese, cat food, dirt, hair balls, tears, lipstick, paste, sequins, beads, bandaids, duct tape, ice cream, tinsel, sawdust, cobwebs, leaves, very thin sticks, gum, candy canes, fudge, pumpkin pie, creamer, whipped cream, ointment, probably dust mites, germs, lotion, hand soap, synthetic fibers, burrs and thorns, sand, salt water, striped knee high socks, toilet paper, napkins, claw encasments from the cat, contact lenses, and sense of doom.
Cat hair, lint, dryer sheets, socks, underwear, dust, snow, styrafoam, thread, confetti, yarn, glitter, glitter glue, eyelashes, mud, spooge, snot, hair, cat litter, crumbs, small shreds of paper, horse hair, dog hair, gerbil hair, gerbil snot, drool, coffee, mustard, cigarette ashes, miscenllaneous odors, sewing needles, dust bunnies, post-it notes, blankets, tiny rocks, paperclips, static, tissues, rain, little beatles, orange juice, marmalade, sour cream, whipped cream, cream cheese, cat food, dirt, hair balls, tears, lipstick, paste, sequins, beads, bandaids, duct tape, ice cream, tinsel, sawdust, cobwebs, leaves, very thin sticks, gum, candy canes, fudge, pumpkin pie, creamer, whipped cream, ointment, probably dust mites, germs, lotion, hand soap, synthetic fibers, burrs and thorns, sand, salt water, striped knee high socks, toilet paper, napkins, claw encasments from the cat, contact lenses, and sense of doom.
11.24.2006
Oh My Gohd, What the Hell Have I Done?!
Yeah....so I switched over to the Beta version of Blogger.....this is going to be a headache to fix...
Six Subtle Traces of Hell
I wanna play too!! (tagged by my mom, via Shenry)
Six random things about Neko that you probably didn't know:
1. I've always wanted to know how to dance well.
2. I have dreams that I'm helping Japanese tourists find their way around.
3. When I was a kid, I used to have a cluster of gnarly warts on my big toe. I still cover that toe when I stand barefoot.
4. I don't ride bicycles because someone once called me the Wicked Witch of the West while I was on one.
5. All but one of the scars on my body are self-inflicted.
6. I think it would be fun to have a penis just for one day.
Six random things about Neko that you probably didn't know:
1. I've always wanted to know how to dance well.
2. I have dreams that I'm helping Japanese tourists find their way around.
3. When I was a kid, I used to have a cluster of gnarly warts on my big toe. I still cover that toe when I stand barefoot.
4. I don't ride bicycles because someone once called me the Wicked Witch of the West while I was on one.
5. All but one of the scars on my body are self-inflicted.
6. I think it would be fun to have a penis just for one day.
11.21.2006
They Like it When Hell Freezes Over
What is the deal with penguins these days? Yesterday, I stepped off of the light rail in the morning and a person in a penguin suit handed me a fortune cookie. I didn't eat the cookie because the wrapper was open. Years of trick-or-treating has taught me never to eat something that's not completely sealed. It should have also taught me not to take things from penguins, but I guess not. I did open the cookie to see what my fortune was. Apparently, my future holds public transportation advertisements. I felt screwed. Screwed by a penguin. Shenry says that penguins have large penis, so maybe I shouldn't complain.
But, again, what's the deal with penguins these days? There's a new penguin animated movie out, it seems that every marketing agency has adopted the penguin as it's new whore, and they seem to be everywhere. I imagine that it started with that March of the Penguins movie. Although I haven't seen the thing personally, I hear it was wildly popular. I'm just not sure how the concept of flightless arctic birds became trendy. They're cute and all, but why such an insurgance of popularity now?
But, again, what's the deal with penguins these days? There's a new penguin animated movie out, it seems that every marketing agency has adopted the penguin as it's new whore, and they seem to be everywhere. I imagine that it started with that March of the Penguins movie. Although I haven't seen the thing personally, I hear it was wildly popular. I'm just not sure how the concept of flightless arctic birds became trendy. They're cute and all, but why such an insurgance of popularity now?
11.17.2006
Into the Darkness of Hell
I have finally realized the one singular word that describes me best: dark.
I am physically dark.
My eyes and hair are dark. My complexion is dark (that's Italian dark, not African dark) My lungs are almost certainly black. The circles around my eyes are dark. I am always wearing a black garment of some form or another, if not dressed completely in black. The only makeup I wear is either red or black. I don't buy any clothes unless they're black or grey or have skulls or something.
I am psychologically dark.
My mood is usually dark. My sense of humor is dark. I like to lurk in shadowy places. My favorite color is black. My past is truly dark. My future almost certainly will be dark. My thoughts are regularly grim.
My interests are dark.
My favorite band is My Chemical Romance. I like art that blends the adorable with the gruesome. I enjoy walking around in cemetaries. I'd love to drive a Herse. My favorite movies are horror films and quirky french tales and Tim Burton. I have a black cat. I am have a preoccupation with haunted places and serial killers.
Yes, "dark" is indeed the word that describes me best. What's your word?
I am physically dark.
My eyes and hair are dark. My complexion is dark (that's Italian dark, not African dark) My lungs are almost certainly black. The circles around my eyes are dark. I am always wearing a black garment of some form or another, if not dressed completely in black. The only makeup I wear is either red or black. I don't buy any clothes unless they're black or grey or have skulls or something.
I am psychologically dark.
My mood is usually dark. My sense of humor is dark. I like to lurk in shadowy places. My favorite color is black. My past is truly dark. My future almost certainly will be dark. My thoughts are regularly grim.
My interests are dark.
My favorite band is My Chemical Romance. I like art that blends the adorable with the gruesome. I enjoy walking around in cemetaries. I'd love to drive a Herse. My favorite movies are horror films and quirky french tales and Tim Burton. I have a black cat. I am have a preoccupation with haunted places and serial killers.
Yes, "dark" is indeed the word that describes me best. What's your word?
11.14.2006
Starfuckers in Hell
A young woman stops at the street corner to adjust her black and grey striped stockings. She's dressed from head to toe entirely in black and shades of grey, except for an extra long blue knitted scarf that almost touches the ground, despite being wrapped around her neck twice. She scans the marque scrolling todays headlines across the newspaper agency's stone face while she waits for the light to turn.
Green. She carries herself, hands tucked into armpits to keep warm, across the busy intersection to the Starbucks coffee haus. Inside, she steps past a vagrant asking for the restroom key to make her way to the counter. The slender boy behind the counter, who obviously favors the company of men in his off-time, asks, "What can we get you today?"
"Yes, I'll have a Grande..." she pauses and twirls her finger in the air for a moment, "Gingerbread latte. Make it a triple shot."
"Grande triple shot Gingerbread latte!" shouting toward the barista.
"That'll be $4.52." quietly to the young woman.
She hands him a five dollar bill and he says something like, "Blah, blah, blah, blah, this morning?"
She smiles and nods, playing along.
Once outside, she sets her steaming drink on a white iron patio table that wobbles like a frat boy at last call. A moment of digging into her black hole of a purse yeilds a smoke and a purple lighter. She lights her cigarette, picks up her latte, and heads off across the street again. A teenage boy crossing from the other direction stares at her as if he's never seen a woman before. She dismisses his gaze with a haughty rolling of the eyes.
"Boys are so dumb" she thinks to herself as she climbs the hill toward a tall, marble government building.
Green. She carries herself, hands tucked into armpits to keep warm, across the busy intersection to the Starbucks coffee haus. Inside, she steps past a vagrant asking for the restroom key to make her way to the counter. The slender boy behind the counter, who obviously favors the company of men in his off-time, asks, "What can we get you today?"
"Yes, I'll have a Grande..." she pauses and twirls her finger in the air for a moment, "Gingerbread latte. Make it a triple shot."
"Grande triple shot Gingerbread latte!" shouting toward the barista.
"That'll be $4.52." quietly to the young woman.
She hands him a five dollar bill and he says something like, "Blah, blah, blah, blah, this morning?"
She smiles and nods, playing along.
Once outside, she sets her steaming drink on a white iron patio table that wobbles like a frat boy at last call. A moment of digging into her black hole of a purse yeilds a smoke and a purple lighter. She lights her cigarette, picks up her latte, and heads off across the street again. A teenage boy crossing from the other direction stares at her as if he's never seen a woman before. She dismisses his gaze with a haughty rolling of the eyes.
"Boys are so dumb" she thinks to herself as she climbs the hill toward a tall, marble government building.
11.13.2006
Hellatious
The cat situation is finally handled. Jiji came home on Friday with a bunch of meds, a bandage, and a $2,500.00 invoice. Jesus Fucking Christ. I had no idea that it could be so outrageously expensive to have pets. Initially, I was freaking the fuck out because the full amount of the vet bill is due upon release of kitty kitty. I thought I was going to have to start mugging people at the light rail station for the dough. However, my Dad came to the rescue and applied for the kitty credit card which allows you to pay off the vet immediately without dropping the entire sum in one go. So, I will be able to make payments to my father in a gradual way instead of having to prostitute myself.
I'm very happy that Jiji came through. There was some concern for a bit that he wouldn't make it. I wasn't sure that I'd see him again. Since I've had my furry companion for about 10 years, I've grown very attached to him. So, it would have killed me to have to put him to sleep. Glad I didn't have to make that choice. However, chasing him down twice a day to shove meds down his throat isn't much fun (for either of us). Keeping him confined to my bedroom (to make sure he pees) isn't great either, especially after Toby's quarantine. Why are all my cats getting sick??
Things could have turned out much worse than they did. I may have had to fork over a grip of cheddar and lost my best friend in the process. But, neither happened and I feel like I got away by the seat of my pants. If this wasn't a wake-up call, I don't know what is. It all comes down to money. Money, money, money. It's what makes the world go 'round (if you think it's love, get your head out of your ass). I've got to completely stop spending and also find myself a second job. That's the only way I'm going to move on from here.
In other depressing news, I haven't heard a peep from any of my friends since my Halloween party on the 4th. I must have been much more out of control than normal. I must have single handedly offended every single one of them. It's possible. I can do some stupid shit when I'm that drunk. I would have thought that maybe I was overreacting. However, I haven't heard from a single solitary person, so I figure that since nobody has contacted me, they must have all made a secret pact to avoid me and my embarassing behavior for good. That's okay, I guess, provided that I deserve it. I haven't felt much like talking to anyone either. Not because of anyone else. Just that I've been really stressed and depressed and can't bring myself to be social. I'm also a little embarassed with myself. Oh well, que sera sera.
I'm very happy that Jiji came through. There was some concern for a bit that he wouldn't make it. I wasn't sure that I'd see him again. Since I've had my furry companion for about 10 years, I've grown very attached to him. So, it would have killed me to have to put him to sleep. Glad I didn't have to make that choice. However, chasing him down twice a day to shove meds down his throat isn't much fun (for either of us). Keeping him confined to my bedroom (to make sure he pees) isn't great either, especially after Toby's quarantine. Why are all my cats getting sick??
Things could have turned out much worse than they did. I may have had to fork over a grip of cheddar and lost my best friend in the process. But, neither happened and I feel like I got away by the seat of my pants. If this wasn't a wake-up call, I don't know what is. It all comes down to money. Money, money, money. It's what makes the world go 'round (if you think it's love, get your head out of your ass). I've got to completely stop spending and also find myself a second job. That's the only way I'm going to move on from here.
In other depressing news, I haven't heard a peep from any of my friends since my Halloween party on the 4th. I must have been much more out of control than normal. I must have single handedly offended every single one of them. It's possible. I can do some stupid shit when I'm that drunk. I would have thought that maybe I was overreacting. However, I haven't heard from a single solitary person, so I figure that since nobody has contacted me, they must have all made a secret pact to avoid me and my embarassing behavior for good. That's okay, I guess, provided that I deserve it. I haven't felt much like talking to anyone either. Not because of anyone else. Just that I've been really stressed and depressed and can't bring myself to be social. I'm also a little embarassed with myself. Oh well, que sera sera.
11.08.2006
Hell Can Always Get Hotter
If there's one thing I've learned from life, it's this: No matter how bad you think things are, they can always get worse. Now, this might seem like a very pessimistic way of looking at things, and indeed, I am a pessimist. However, the key to this, as with most knowledge, is how it is applied. For instance, if life is delivering lemons, there's no cause to despair. Because, having lemons is better than having nothing at all. Down the line, it could be turnips and those lemons may look great in retrospect. So, bitching about the lemons isn't the best move. Maybe I subconsiously feel that mourning today's losses somehow invites more misfortune for the future. If life consistently gets worse, then maybe dealing with the present prepares us for the next bomb to drop.
The point is, I was just bitching and moaning about my lack of finances and acceptable living situation. I was fustrated with myself for not applying my resources more carefully. Boo hoo, woe is me, right?
Well, I arrived at home later that same day and my father mentioned, "Hey, you might want to check out Jiji. He doesn't look too good." Jiji is one of my cats, by the way. So, I went downstairs and he was laying on my bed. When I approached him, he didn't lift his head or meow or twitch his ears or anything. I had to check to see if he was even breathing. I decided that it was time to rush him to the emergency animal clinic.
My first cause for despair came in the form of the estimated cost of his treatment. It was well over a G. I don't have that kind of money just laying around. But, I thought that I should go ahead with the procedure. After all, my cat is far more important to me than money. At this clinic, the billed amount is due in one lump sum and there is only one "payment plan" type of option available. It's a credit card provided by the vet. With my credit, I shouldn't have even bothered to fill out the application.
So, there I found myself with an even larger and inanticipated obstacle to my relocation. I went home with that burden and went to work the next day. I thought, again, "woe is me, boo hoo, life sucks." And then life said, "BWA! HA HA HA HA!" That following night (which would be last night), I returned from casting my votes. My father said that he'd spoken with my cat's vet, who explained that my cat had only a 25% chance of survival. Dad said I should start thinking about putting Jiji to sleep. Great, just great. I was mortified.
Spoke with my vet today though, and heard that the animal may recover and "just another night in the hospital" (i.e. another 500 bucks). I'm terribly happy at the chance that I might indeed bring my beloved Jiji home. But, I'm terribly desperate to find a way to pay this bill.
So there it is. Perspective.
The point is, I was just bitching and moaning about my lack of finances and acceptable living situation. I was fustrated with myself for not applying my resources more carefully. Boo hoo, woe is me, right?
Well, I arrived at home later that same day and my father mentioned, "Hey, you might want to check out Jiji. He doesn't look too good." Jiji is one of my cats, by the way. So, I went downstairs and he was laying on my bed. When I approached him, he didn't lift his head or meow or twitch his ears or anything. I had to check to see if he was even breathing. I decided that it was time to rush him to the emergency animal clinic.
My first cause for despair came in the form of the estimated cost of his treatment. It was well over a G. I don't have that kind of money just laying around. But, I thought that I should go ahead with the procedure. After all, my cat is far more important to me than money. At this clinic, the billed amount is due in one lump sum and there is only one "payment plan" type of option available. It's a credit card provided by the vet. With my credit, I shouldn't have even bothered to fill out the application.
So, there I found myself with an even larger and inanticipated obstacle to my relocation. I went home with that burden and went to work the next day. I thought, again, "woe is me, boo hoo, life sucks." And then life said, "BWA! HA HA HA HA!" That following night (which would be last night), I returned from casting my votes. My father said that he'd spoken with my cat's vet, who explained that my cat had only a 25% chance of survival. Dad said I should start thinking about putting Jiji to sleep. Great, just great. I was mortified.
Spoke with my vet today though, and heard that the animal may recover and "just another night in the hospital" (i.e. another 500 bucks). I'm terribly happy at the chance that I might indeed bring my beloved Jiji home. But, I'm terribly desperate to find a way to pay this bill.
So there it is. Perspective.
11.06.2006
Hellish Monday
My depression has given way to a mid-high level of anxiety. I am supressing a seemingly constant onslaught of panic attacks. I'm sweaty. I feel ill. It's not to the point at which I'm tearing my hair out, but I can see that happening in the near future. The cause, to this moment, is unknown. I have my suspicions that it is a stress issue. I should have kept up with my meds better this past week. I'm on them now, but I've been spotty on the upkeep lately.
I imagine the stress to be brought on by two things: money and lack of suitable living situation. It's almost Christmas. I'm freaking out.
How long before I lose it completely, I wonder. How long before I have a complete mental breakdown and have to be hospitalized? It doesn't seem far off now. Oh god, I feel sick.
I imagine the stress to be brought on by two things: money and lack of suitable living situation. It's almost Christmas. I'm freaking out.
How long before I lose it completely, I wonder. How long before I have a complete mental breakdown and have to be hospitalized? It doesn't seem far off now. Oh god, I feel sick.
11.03.2006
Heavy In Hell
It’s amazing how quickly my body loses and gains weight. I’ve never been above 130 and once was a shocking 99 pounds. The latter was gross and disturbing. My thighs didn’t even touch in the middle. How sick is that? That’s before I kicked the heroin. The likelihood of weighing 99 pounds again is, thankfully, very slim (ha ha).
However, tipping the scales at 130 is gross and disturbing in its own fashion. I can’t look at myself in the mirror nude anymore without loathing myself completely. I see all the little puckers of cellulite and the sagging skin and the age and I want to cry and barf at the same time, while holding a gun barrel in my mouth. Dramatic, eh?
Right now, my friends who read this are thinking something like, “Whatever Neko! You are so not fat!!” It’s true. I’m not obese or even “chubby” really. It’s just that I’m not used to looking this way and I know I could change it if I just got off my expanding ass. But, I’m lazy. And, I can think of a million excuses. So what do I do? I just don’t eat for a couple of days. Real healthy, right?
But, not eating for 2 days, loses me 5 pounds just like that. The jeans that were almost too tight to breathe in a couple of days ago are having trouble grabbing my hips today. Just two days of absolutely no food intake kill the pounds like a flesh eating virus. It also makes me dizzy and shaky. Yes, I know starvation and anorexia are not the keys to healthy weight loss. I know smoking a cigarette whenever I get the munchies will not do me a whole lot of good. Chemo would really help me drop the weight, wouldn’t it?
The thing is, I can’t seem to keep an interest in myself long enough to commit to a steady standard of living that improves my health. On the good days, I aspire to cut out the donuts and snack on the celery. On the bad days, I just don’t give a fhuk and stay in bed all day. It’s a good thing I don’t pig out when I’m depressed. I do just the opposite.
I normally walk instead of taking the bus whenever possible. I almost always take the stairs throughout my day at work. I don’t eat meat or much in the way of sweets. So, there are a couple of miniscule things I do for my health. Actually, I do these things more out of impatience than anything else. I have nightmares about being trapped in elevators. Gyms cost money.
What I need is to get on a healthy regimen. I need to get back into yoga. I need to exercise regularly and eat more fresh veggies. I need to get my own place so that I feel the freedom to work out. Join a gym? They’re really expensive. I look like a dork and I’m embarrassed to be athletic in front of other people. Mostly, it’s because I don’t know what I’m doing. What’s an “oblique”? or a “tricep”? How do I know how many reps of what to do and how often? Hire a personal trainer? Ha! There’s the money thing again. And I can’t stand the type of person who spends enough time in the gym to be a “personal trainer”.
The most health conscious person I know is Shenry. I think I’d be able to work out in front of him without being totally beside myself with embarrassment. But, he’s on his Olympic weight lifting trip right now. He and I would be at completely different levels as far as fitness are concerned. There’s a scheduling issue as well.
So, for now it’s a diet of stress and nicotine. When I get an apartment, I’ll try to improve things. I’ll just have to be bloated and depressed until then. And yes, I would like some cheese with my whine.
However, tipping the scales at 130 is gross and disturbing in its own fashion. I can’t look at myself in the mirror nude anymore without loathing myself completely. I see all the little puckers of cellulite and the sagging skin and the age and I want to cry and barf at the same time, while holding a gun barrel in my mouth. Dramatic, eh?
Right now, my friends who read this are thinking something like, “Whatever Neko! You are so not fat!!” It’s true. I’m not obese or even “chubby” really. It’s just that I’m not used to looking this way and I know I could change it if I just got off my expanding ass. But, I’m lazy. And, I can think of a million excuses. So what do I do? I just don’t eat for a couple of days. Real healthy, right?
But, not eating for 2 days, loses me 5 pounds just like that. The jeans that were almost too tight to breathe in a couple of days ago are having trouble grabbing my hips today. Just two days of absolutely no food intake kill the pounds like a flesh eating virus. It also makes me dizzy and shaky. Yes, I know starvation and anorexia are not the keys to healthy weight loss. I know smoking a cigarette whenever I get the munchies will not do me a whole lot of good. Chemo would really help me drop the weight, wouldn’t it?
The thing is, I can’t seem to keep an interest in myself long enough to commit to a steady standard of living that improves my health. On the good days, I aspire to cut out the donuts and snack on the celery. On the bad days, I just don’t give a fhuk and stay in bed all day. It’s a good thing I don’t pig out when I’m depressed. I do just the opposite.
I normally walk instead of taking the bus whenever possible. I almost always take the stairs throughout my day at work. I don’t eat meat or much in the way of sweets. So, there are a couple of miniscule things I do for my health. Actually, I do these things more out of impatience than anything else. I have nightmares about being trapped in elevators. Gyms cost money.
What I need is to get on a healthy regimen. I need to get back into yoga. I need to exercise regularly and eat more fresh veggies. I need to get my own place so that I feel the freedom to work out. Join a gym? They’re really expensive. I look like a dork and I’m embarrassed to be athletic in front of other people. Mostly, it’s because I don’t know what I’m doing. What’s an “oblique”? or a “tricep”? How do I know how many reps of what to do and how often? Hire a personal trainer? Ha! There’s the money thing again. And I can’t stand the type of person who spends enough time in the gym to be a “personal trainer”.
The most health conscious person I know is Shenry. I think I’d be able to work out in front of him without being totally beside myself with embarrassment. But, he’s on his Olympic weight lifting trip right now. He and I would be at completely different levels as far as fitness are concerned. There’s a scheduling issue as well.
So, for now it’s a diet of stress and nicotine. When I get an apartment, I’ll try to improve things. I’ll just have to be bloated and depressed until then. And yes, I would like some cheese with my whine.
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