October 30, 2004

dent update

It looks like it's getting shallower. It's still sorta there, though, and I still haven't figured out what in the hell it's from.

On another weird note, I got a call today which I didn't answer because I was trying to take a nap. When I got up and checked the caller ID, it said:


Now, I asked around in some of the chatrooms, and one person said he'd gotten some 000-000-0000 calls, but it sort of sounded like that was the way his caller ID box displays private numbers. [My caller ID displays them as a series of dashes and the words "unknown caller."] It seemed like it almost could have been a political call, probably from a local office that uses the 507 area code [which is the area code for the part of Minnesota where I live].

The funny thing is this: A Google search for the last seven digits turned up a slew of engineering sites, a bunch of pages for businesses whose phone numbers were not listed, and an entry at the blog Shape of Days, in which the blogger mentions having gotten a call from a 202-000-0000, which is the number of the White House and also, I understand, the Secret Service.

So would anybody else use that number? Is it reserved for presidential use, and if so, is this somebody calling to tell me to vote for Bush? If so, it's a good thing for them I didn't pick up. I don't think they'd have wanted to hear what I think of that. I wouldn't think any of the cell phone companies would use the 000 prefix, and I know no land lines would.

Anybody else get any calls like this?


Posted by Frida Peeple at 02:43 PM | Comments (0)

Now, is it just me...

...or is it a common thing to have scary mysterious medical things happen at the beginning of a weekend, when the clinic won't be open for another two days?

One time it was a slipped disc, other times it's been infections of various types...

There is a divot in my leg that was not there before.

It's on the outer side of my right calf, a couple inches above the ankle bone. It's not an area of your leg that you see often unless you shave your legs a lot. I don't; this morning is the first time in two weeks that I've shaved, because I wear pants to work and nobody sees my legs anyway. I only shave for swimming class, and we didn't have that last week, so two Saturdays ago would probably have been the last time I got a good look at it.

It's about an inch wide and a little over an inch long, and a few millimeters deep. It doesn't look like a flesh-eating virus, because there's no lesion. It has no scab, no scar. It's not red, like the temporary dents you sometimes see when you sit in a way that jabs your anklebone or something else into part of your leg. It's not discoloured at all. It looks like normal skin. It looks exactly as though a small oval divot-shaped section of flesh simply disappeared and the skin caved in over it and reattached itself. It doesn't match my left leg. It doesn't look like one of those indentations you get from adjacent, overdeveloped muscles, although I do have well-developed calf muscles from walking and swimming. I can't think of any activity I do that would cause enough repeated localised pressure to produce a dip like that. I have a belly crease from years of wearing too-tight jeans before I accepted what size I was, and I got a crease in my left thigh from constantly reaching across a low table at work, so that was one of the first things I thought of. But I can't think of anything that would cause a dent like that in that location.

I don't want to go to the emergency room for a one-inch dent. It's not bleeding, it's not discoloured, it's not suppurating, it's not changing size. I couldn't justify the expense for something that's not an apparent, immediate threat to my health. Even if it was cancer, they wouldn't see me in the ER; they'd make me an appointment with an oncologist.

But the damn thing wasn't there a fortnight ago. So is it something that spreads fast? Is it going to go away by Monday? The vast majority of things really aren't that serious, but this is a completely unknown quantity. I have no way of gauging how much of a threat it is, because I don't have the faintest idea what it could be.

So what the hell is it?

This is gonna drive me nuts all weekend.


Posted by Frida Peeple at 05:15 AM | Comments (0)

October 29, 2004

Die knusperig Gro▀mutter

No, translating it doesn't help it make sense [unless you actually know some crispy grannies from Germany]. An excess of research into the work of Max Ernst in a search for an online image of Nature at Daybreak has left me in a decidedly Dadaist/Surrealist frame of mind.

Which is good, actually; as the wheel of the year turns [to use a much-overused Neopagan metaphor] toward autumn and winter, my artistic constipation is clearing. I've done a little work on a new piece involving the use of leaves as printing elements; I paint the leaf with acrylics, put it facedown on the watercolour paper, and hand-rub it to transfer the paint, removing the leaf quickly so the paint doesn't have time to dry and actually stick the leaf down. [Watercolours wouldn't stick like that, but Nature decided leaves should be water-repellent, so w/c simply beads up on them.] The same leaf can be used over and over again, and you can print multiple layers of colour onto the same spot if you're careful and can line up the leaf with the previous print. The leaf can also be used as a mask for sprayed-on washes, or later as a collage element. The uniqueness of each leaf's shape adds an organic element to the work, and the repetition of the shape enhances the unity of the piece. It's still in the very early stages, and I haven't worked much with w/c and acrylic in the same piece, so it will be exciting to see how it turns out.

Other various occurrences:

~It was an incredibly muggy night last night. The windows of the cafe downstairs, and the panes of my downstairs door's window, neither of which have ever fogged up to my knowledge, were running with moisture. The vending machine at work was full of condensation. Paper soaked up so much moisture that it was limp, and you could barely write on it. It was so misty that the sidewalks and streets were slick without any discernible rainfall.

I mention this because conditions like these are ideal for the appearance of spirits. The supervisor said he'd seen some kind of human figure, dressed all in black, leave the back room where the material is kept, and close the door behind it. The mold tech verified that the door had been open. One of the operators also said that he kept getting the impression that the supervisor was standing behind him, but he would turn and nobody would be there.

I didn't see or sense anything unusual last night, but I have on many occasions heard footsteps or thought I'd seen somebody out of the corner of my eye, only to find nobody there. Some of the footsteps are, I'm sure, due to the acoustics of the building; but I don't imagine there's a whole lot of room for echoes in a place that's stacked all over with randomly staggered rows of cardboard boxes of differing heights and widths. The staging area near my office makes excellent sound cover. There aren't many, if any, places that a sound could bounce off of without being broken up. And when I'm very tired, I do occasionally see "bugs" out of the corner of my eye [I'm sure it's not a symptom of a psychosis; my conscious mind has been active too long, its settings are wonky, and it just needs a shutdown, a rest and a reboot]. But the "bugs" are a known signal that my brain is tired; thinking I see a person out of the corner of my eye isn't the same hallucination at all, if indeed it is a hallucination. I've suspected for a while that the place is haunted, either by a spirit or simply by all the residual energies of the people who have worked there...or maybe by both. In any case, spirits have a much easier time manifesting when there is moisture in the air, and when the temperature is warmer, both of which conditions were present. And does the veil between the Seen and the Unseen become more permeable at Samhain? If so, could weather conditions be part of it?

~Speaking of the dead, I was in the checkout line at the store looking at the covers of some of the tabloids. Now, these publications aren't famous for having an excess of shame, but Christopher Reeve is barely in the goddamn ground. Do they really have to print stories about his wife's supposed affair [because, you know, women just NEED it, can't LIVE without it, and if hubby is paralysed, wifey simply must go elsewhere to scratch her itch--blecch] and the theory that his death was a suicide? I mean, stories about trailer-park queens in Nebraska being healed by Batboy and giving birth to his lovechild or whatever are funny. Stories about people seeing the BVM in their bowl of cream of tomato soup are funny. This...this just turns my stomach. This isn't entertaining. It's just loathsome and malignant. I don't know what nauseates me more: that they think that's going to sell papers, or that it probably will sell papers.

~Amp over at Alas, A Blog has asked fellow bloggers to link to this post about the upcoming vote in Oregon about Measure 36, an anti-gay-marriage amendment. The spin surrounding the measure seems to have come down to a claim that telling schoolchildren the definition of homosexuality is the same thing as teaching gay sex in schools, as though explaining the definition of the word is equivalent to handing out copies of "Fisting for Dummies"; and that, for that reason, gay marriage should be banned. Which is a] untrue and b] completely brain-damaged. So that's my small part in helping get the word out about the asinine histrionics of the anti-gay-marriage people in Oregon.

~I will not sleep decently until this election is over. If the unthinkable happens, I might not sleep well for a while. Earlier this week, I literally had a nightmare that Bush won. But the suspense is driving me batshit, even over the usual level of Shrub botheration, and the campaign flyers aren't helping. I hope the Republicans know the only reason their damn flyers are going in the recycle is that they're too stiff to wipe my ass with or flush decently. You mark my words: As soon as that bungling snatchburglar is out of office, whenever that happens, my blood pressure will go down by about 15 points. [Unless, of course, he leaves office in the middle of his term and Cheney steps in. Then you can expect an increase of the same amount.] I bet my damn acid reflux will go away too.

~Tomorrow is the last swim class before winter. I won't be signing up for another class until probably April, when everything's melted [unless global warming really gets a move on and we just don't have a winter here]. I found a Speedo brand swim cap that actually fits without restricting the blood flow to my brain and popping halfway off when I move my head. I'll give 'er a go. If it should come off and my hair get chlorine in it again...well, hopefully the vitamin E treatment will work as well as it did last time.

~Halloween cookies are yummy. mmmmmm...

Enough blathering...

same bitch time, same bitch channel...

Quote for the day: "What the fuck would I want to be in charge of my Social Security for? That's not my job. I don't know how to do that shit! And in case Bush is wondering, I don't want to have to deliver my own mail, either."--That one guy from Get Your War On [p. 40]

Posted by Frida Peeple at 01:57 PM | Comments (0)

October 24, 2004

just a little change

I really hated to have to do this, but I removed the HTML capability from the comments. So you can't put HTML in comments now. I don't think that's going to be much of a problem, though, because I can't think of a legitimate comment I've gotten in the last year that's contained HTML. Every HTML-containing comment this blog has fielded for as far back as I can remember has been a spam. So the only people that are really being hurt are the spammers, which is what I was trying to accomplish anyway.

But just in case you were thinking of linking to something in the comments...sorry, you can't do it. You can always type out the link, and I'm sure the other readers and I will be more than happy to copy and paste it into a browser window.


Posted by Frida Peeple at 10:53 AM | Comments (2)

October 22, 2004

This makes me want to go bang my head against my altar.

Today's Dear Abby [click here for the archived version after 22/10/04] had a letter from a lady wanting to know where she could obtain a spellbook so she could make her daughter break up with her abusive girlfriend.

That's exactly the kind of publicity we need, y'know? The news media already makes a disgraceful hash out of things every time they try to explain Wicca and paganism to the public, and now we have people coming out of the woodwork asking for spellbooks. [Apparently the lady who wrote this letter has never been to Barnes & Noble, or, for that matter, Amazon.com, or she wouldn't be asking Dear Abby.]

So I wrote an e-mail to the Abbess herself pointing out a few things for "Witch Way"'s benefit, not the least of which was that if you pick up a spellbook knowing dick shit about how magic works, it most likely won't. It would be like me trying to fix my car. I don't know crap about that thing, and if I bought "Auto Mechanics For Dummies" or whatever and started dinking around under the hood, I'd probably have a nonfunctioning car, because I don't know what the hell I'm doing. You can't do it right if you don't understand the underlying principles. I introduced a few other salient points, and hopefully Abby's Halloweenish mood will persist [come on, she probably gets letters like that all year round; she probably printed this one about spells because it's That Time Of Year] and she'll print it, or perhaps print a letter from another, less prolix, witch making similar points.

And then my friend C. showed me this.

School Says Halloween Disrespectful to Witches

The superintendent made the decision for three primary reasons, Hansen said. First, Halloween parties and parades waste valuable classroom time. Second, some families can't afford costumes and the celebrations thus can create embarrassment for children.

Both of those reasons seemed sensible to the parents who spoke to ABC News affiliate KOMO-TV in Seattle. But the district's third reason left some Puyallup parents shaking their heads.

The district said Halloween celebrations and children dressed in Halloween costumes might be offensive to real witches.

"Witches with pointy noses and things like that are not respective symbols of the Wiccan religion and so we want to be respectful of that," Hansen said.

The Wiccan, or Pagan, religion is said to be growing in the United States and there are Wiccan groups in Puyallup.

On the district's list of guidelines related to holidays and celebrations is an item that reads: "Use of derogatory stereotypes is prohibited, such as the traditional image of a witch, which is offensive to members of the Wiccan religion."

"I do lots of things that are not revolving around wearing a black outfit and stirring a cauldron," Wiccan priestess Cheryl Sulyma-Masson said in an interview with ABC News in which she explained that Wiccans, or Pagan Clergy, celebrate nature.

Thank you, ABC. My acid reflux was beginning to calm down, and we can't have that. See, it's not enough that the news story makes us look like a bunch of whiny party-poopers who hate seeing children happy. Please note, if you will, the clumsy, boneheaded references to "Wiccans," "Pagans" and "Pagan Clergy" as if Wicca and Paganism are exactly synonymous [which they're not, by a long shot; I'm sure the Asatru and the Discordians are up in arms like Norplant over stuff like this], and as if Wiccans were the designated priests of the Pagan religion, which we most certainly and emphatically are not. That's like saying Episcopalians are the "clergy" of Christianity.

Why is it so fucking hard to get it right? Do I have to draw you people a goddamn picture? Okay. Here.

The Goddamn Picture

See? Does that make it simple enough?

I'm going to go take some Rolaids.

same bitch time, same bitch channel...

Posted by Frida Peeple at 10:01 AM | Comments (1)

October 21, 2004

The Last Week And A Half Or So In Review

~I have all the ambition of a roadkill today.

~Anybody wanna buy some Star Trek books? I need the space...

~I also need to get rid of this hideous loveseat so I can make room for some storage units of some kind. Maybe if I do it right, I'll be able to get that armchair in there somewhere so it's not cluttering up my bedroom. There has to be somebody round here that needs a loveseat.

~Is it Election Day yet? I wanna go vote for Kerry and get all this bullshit over with already.

~Do they have a bomb that only destroys computers? I think it's time we did something about Pakistan...

~I'm sorely tempted to go to the cafe and make them cook for me so I don't have to do it.

~Our plant manager spends a lot of time attending seminars. I think it's about time he signed up for one about respecting people's personal space. I don't think anybody ever taught him the "arm's length" rule.

~He also has a Bush sticker on his big gas-guzzling pickup truck, right underneath his Coleman [ptooey at the name] sticker. If I were a slightly different kind of witch, I'd make a little something involving his picture, some rusty nails and some drawn-on tire tracks and attach it to the inside of his wheel well. But I'm not that kind of witch. Not quite.

~I got something in my eye. I couldn't get it out with the eyecup [though I did manage to get the eyecup suctioned to my face and had to remove it carefully so I didn't suck out my eyeball], and a co-worker and I couldn't locate it. Finally I stuck my face under the tap and ran warm water over my eye. I couldn't feel it after that, so I think it washed out, thank goodness. I'd hate to have had to go to a doctor and get it out.

~I started bringing my walkman and tapes to work. [No, I don't own a portable MP3 player; I'd hate to go pay $100+ for it and then take it to work and have it fall into something and get ground up, smashed, &c. Additionally, since my car stereo doesn't work and I use a tape player in the car, the tapes serve multiple purposes. Moreover, I'm the kind of person who uses old technologies until they stop being made or until the new version is almost as cheap. Exhibit A: The Commodore 64 in the living room.] That seemed like a cheaper and more reasonable solution than putting Paxil in the coffee. Why would I consider Paxil in the coffee? Well, let's put it this way: When a group of people listens to the same radio station nearly every night for close to a year, that's a pretty good sign that you're looking at multiple cases of obsessive-compulsive disorder here. Mind you, this is classic rock, not top 40--there's virtually no playlist turnover, because there will never be any new 70's music. That means that the same songs get played, night after night, month after month, year after year, changing only slightly as newer songs gradually age enough to be considered "classic." I couldn't take it anymore, I couldn't persuade them to change to something else, and I couldn't afford the gasoline to burn down the radio station, so I brought in my walkman.

~I'm probably going to get rid of the Commodore 64 [as well as the loveseat, the Star Trek books, and whatever else my greedy little packrat soul can bear to part with] so I have more room for storage. Part of my current artistic constipation is the depressing degree of clutter. When you have interesting things in your studio to look at and be inspired by, that's good clutter. When you can't move your chair without tipping something over, and can't fit your watercolour board on your table because it's heaped with crap, that's bad clutter. I have bad, bad clutter. It's time to chuck out the things I don't use [like the loveseat and the C64] and use the space for shelving or Rubbermaid tubs or something. If I'm lucky, creative and watchful of sales, I'll find something less ugly than Rubbermaid tubs. If not, I'll make do. Maybe I'll put decals or bumper stickers or something on them.

~I have slightly over half of a 2-lb. bag of shrimp in the freezer, and I've just discovered that it's starting to get freezer burn. We all know what this means: I have to cook that shrimp up and eat it straightaway. It's a tough job, but somebody's gotta do it. It also explains part of the reason frozen shrimp is so expensive: that stuff freezer-burns in no time.

I suppose that's enough woolgathering for one day. Especially considering I'm allergic to wool.

same bitch time, same bitch channel...

Quote for the day: "If you're born again, do you have two bellybuttons?" [From a Northern Sun bumper sticker]

Posted by Frida Peeple at 09:09 AM | Comments (1)

October 19, 2004

One more time.

This is a radio.

This is a karaoke machine.

Notice that a radio and a karaoke machine are not the same thing.

Please be mindful of this while at work. Thank you.

This message brought to you by the Bitch Council and the National Association For Getting You To Stop Thinking That Anybody Gives A Shit Whether You Know All The Words To "Freebird."

Posted by Frida Peeple at 08:51 AM | Comments (0)

October 16, 2004

Weapons of Mass Instruction

And now for another of my ill-conceived, reckless and possibly short-lived ideas. Swiped without shame from the inexplicably best-selling and emetically cloying "Life's Little Instruction Book," it's...

Twee, ain't it?

~Whenever possible, make fun of middle-class suburban teenagers who pretend they're from Compton. It's the only way they'll ever get the message that they're making fools of themselves.

~Nobody wants to smell your cologne/perfume/aftershave. As long as you don't stink, people will not feel deprived by not being able to smell you. Make sure you bathe often enough to make cologne unnecessary.

~At least once in your life, sit down and eat a whole Pepperidge Farm cake all by yourself.

~Don't laugh at clowns. It just encourages them. Exception: If a clown is being beaten by thugs, it is acceptable to laugh at him.

~The Earth is not your phone booth. If you're in a store and must call home briefly to ask about a purchase [e.g. "Hi, did you want me to get skim or 2%?"], that is acceptable. But make it snappy.

~Whenever you see a donation jar for a women's shelter, put money in it. You never know when you or someone you care about might have to avail themselves of it.

~Own at least one thing that glows in the dark.

~Tip waitstaff generously. If you should get laid off while the job market is still in shitty shape, you could be working there too.

~Remember that many of the skills that we take for granted are like any other skills. There are people who are naturally good at them and people who aren't. If somebody seems to have trouble doing something that many people can do [like read while somebody's talking, think through consequences, calm down easily, use correct grammar], don't automatically assume that the person is just being selfish and could do it if they tried. Nobody can do everything.

~Get some of those letter magnets and spell out funny stuff on your fridge.

Okay, that's enough instructions for one day. Now obey, dammit!

same bitch time, same bitch channel...

Haiku for the day:
car insurance bill
shows up in my letterbox
dammit, dammit, damn.

Posted by Frida Peeple at 06:35 PM | Comments (2)

October 12, 2004

News Y-Fronts Part &$#*@!!

Mutts in the news:

Happy birthday, dear Rover, happy birthday to you...

A new company has been set up in Moscow to hand make and deliver birthday cakes for dogs.


"We spent a lot of time on the recipes and at the moment the meat-based cakes are the big favourites with our clients.

"We are planning to add a dog catering service to provide full-on pet birthday parties - complete with birthday presents and other pooch party food - the demand is certainly there."

Trick or treat, smell my...er...

Michele Carlin, 43, of Oakland County, plans to take her own dogs out trick or treating, reports the Daily Oakland Press.

Her Yorkshire terrier, Ruby, will don a poodle skirt with a pony tail for Halloween while her 12-year-old schnauzer, Bubbles, will be disguised as a sorceress.

Yeah, I bet Bubbles will fool everybody, too.

Other non-mutt news:

I'd run away too. Maybe not from the Stones or something, but definitely from Meatloaf.

Meatloaf sees off wild boars

Serbian villagers are blaring out rock music 24 hours a day in a bid to stop wild boars destroying their crops.

People in villages in the Sokolovica mountains say they started playing rock music as a deterrent after one farmer who played Meatloaf as he worked said his fields had never been raided by pigs.

Locals say that the strategy has worked, and since then the boars have disappeared.

Maybe the boars were running away from that lady pleading "Will ya love me/Will ya love me forever..." over and over again. That'll scare male animals off for sure.

Quick! Who said this?

"No way, I would never strip for a movie. I would never do anything like that. I have studied acting for years," she said.

Charlize Theron? Reese Witherspoon? Tea Leone?

No, silly! Paris Hilton, of course!

The hotel heiress, who unwittingly also became an amateur porn star, wants to be taken as a serious actress.


"That is what I want to do from now on. That and my music too. People still keep asking me about the sex tape. I am really getting p*ssed off with it. I want to move on, but it's really hard."

...Music? Who's going to produce her, Samantha Fox? And not to get her p*ssed or anything, but what about the new sex tape, the one where she's looking directly at the camera? Feh...

Well, the Queen of Tarts might not be interested in doing nudie movies, but I know a couple Indian monks who'd take the offer.

Two monks have sparked protests in India when they were caught on video having sex with a young woman.

The incident has shocked followers of the Vadtal faction of the influential Swaminarayan sect, reports the Hindustan Times.

See, ladies?? That's what happens when you don't answer these guys' private messages on Yahoo! Instead of "chating wit u," they videotape themselves double-teaming some poor gal who probably just made the mistake of not giving "47/M/Australia" as her a/s/l.

[Yes, I'm mean. I was patient for a very, very long time. When the Indian guys stop PM'ing me, I'll stop being mean.]

And lastly...

If you ever become a psychiatrist, and have such a lucrative practice that you can afford to wipe your ass with dollar bills, it's always a good idea to wash them before paying fines with them.

Burlington city authorities noticed a 'foreign brown substance' on the dollar bills used to pay the fine.

They passed them on to police who had the substance analysed and confirmed it was human faeces.

The man admitted paying the fine with the money but claimed it had fallen down the toilet accidentally.

During questioning, he reportedly said: "What do you expect me to do, throw away good money?"

No, I expect you to buy yourself a wallet so you don't have to store your money in your rectum. It would also be nice if, as a mental health professional, you devised less simian approaches to anger management.

I like how the British spell it "faeces." I spell damn near everything else British; I might adopt that too. At least when I'm not spelling it "crap."

And that's a wrap. This is Frida Peeple, bringing you News That Doesn't SuckTM.

same bitch time, same bitch channel...

Posted by Frida Peeple at 08:36 PM | Comments (0)

October 11, 2004

Moment of silence, if you don't mind...

Christopher Reeve has passed on.

Hell, I don't even know what to say. We'll miss ya, Superman.

I'm gonna go cry a little now.


Posted by Frida Peeple at 06:33 AM | Comments (0)

October 10, 2004

It's a sprawl world after all.

[Witches and Brunch.]

First, the Brunch. I did this one because I felt it important to be honest about what I think, and I'm not obliged to like everything. I often avoid, out of politeness, memes whose topics cover something that's not my cup of tea; but to employ that policy unfailingly seems like an endorsement of the "If you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all" policy, which I always hated anyway [hence this blog]. As an artist, I feel it necessary to say something about Disney [who, as a corporation, has the most unbelievable rigamaroles; and with whom my mother, also an artist, refused to do business because they think they're King of the Universe and their employees are grovelling peons; while it's true that a company like that must run a tight ship, their rules and restrictions are so extensive, so rigorous and so anal that Himmler would quit].

Also, as an adult, I feel it necessary to express, on occasion, my perennial displeasure toward G-rated materials. I appreciate fully that companies produce such materials for children, and I think it's wonderful that such things exist for children. For this reason, I keep my complaints about them to a minimum. But I didn't like most kid stuff even when I was a kid [I doubt most kids do--given a choice, they'd sooner see boobs and explosions than Snow White, in the same way that they'd rather have Chee-tos and M&M's for supper instead of roast beef and string beans], and once I got old enough to go into an R-rated movie by myself, I never looked back. And perhaps it's cantankerous of me to say anything about it, but if somebody doesn't, then the only opinions ever heard on the subject are the family-values brigands who want to ban all forms of violence or sexual expression in art and film and turn the entire media into one humongous frigging PAX channel.

Interestingly enough, the adults-liking-Disney phenomenon seems, in my experience, to be confined mostly to women. Maybe my hormones are different, I dunno. I don't get why other women like many of the things they like. But that's a different topic.

1) What is your favorite Disney movie and why?
The one that sits on the shelf and doesn't make it into the DVD player. I think their character artwork has become grotesque over the last couple decades, and I abhor movies where the characters break into song. The only possible exceptions to this would be West Side Story and Labyrinth, and that's only because the former has knife fights and the song "Officer Krupke," and the latter has freaky Muppets and David Bowie in sprayed-on tights. I'll put up with a few songs for that. However, neither of those, to my knowledge, are Disney movies.

2) Who is your favorite Disney character and why?
The only one I remember well, and really like, is Jeremy the Crow from The Secret of NIMH, because he's wacko. I suppose a runner-up would be the old owl, since he's ancient and sorta creepy and eats moths right in front of people. [For those of you too young to recall, this film was done before Disney started its policy of "every male character must look like his face was chipped out of a hard, glassy material." Say...could it be...? JOHN KERRY IS A DISNEY CHARACTER!! Screw it, I'm voting for him anyway.]

3) What is your favorite Disney song and why?
The one that grates on me the least? That'd have to be the theme from NIMH. I'm sentimental about it. I know one guy at work, though, that walks around like the bear from Jungle Book and sings "Bear Necessities," and when he does it, it's hilarious. But then, he's nuts anyway.

4) Disneyland or Disneyworld? Why?
Yes, I ask that myself, every time I see commercials or brochures for either of those two places. Why? [Lest I sound like a curmudgeonly old baggage, let me state for the record that I felt the exact same way when I was 8.]

5) Do you have any decorations or articles of clothing in your home that are Disney and what are they?
No decorations, no articles of clothing, but I think I have a few Happy Meal toys that are Disney; I picked them up at thrift stores and yard sales in the hopes of disassembling them and putting them into assemblage pieces. Hey, I'm not prejudiced, I do it to Barbie too. And if I remember right, there's also a plastic Chicken McNugget with a face in that pile...if I ever get off my hiney and into the studio, I'll have tremendous fun making art about the fall and dissolution of consumer-driven American society.

Now for the Witches Weekly.

Which book has influenced your path the most and why?
I try not to let any one book or source dominate. I don't think that's wise, and I certainly don't think it's in the spirit of witchcraft. If you do your research, you will be bombarded by different opinions and methodologies, and you may well gravitate towards one [and if you don't do your research, you're on the wrong path]; but I find it hard to imagine any well-read witch lifting hir style wholly or mostly from one source. I can name several that have influenced me, though. Margot Adler's Drawing Down the Moon first got me seriously interested in paganism and Wicca. Cunningham's Wicca: A Guide for the Solitary Practitioner and Living Wicca have certainly helped keep me on track as an eclectic Wiccan/Neo-Wiccan [as opposed to a non-Wiccan eclectic witch]. Eileen Holland's The Wicca Handbook, while admittedly highly eclectic and not exceptionally good at showing clearly what's actually Wiccan and what are Holland's personal eclectic elements, has been full of good general advice and correspondences, and is a good starting reference if you want to do more research on deities associated with specific types of magic.

What person has influenced your path the most and why?
Me, of course. Why? It's my path. However, I wouldn't have gone the route I've gone if it hadn't been for my pagan friends, pagan chatmates, various fundamentalists of different belief systems [including atheism] who've shown me how not to conduct myself, my mother who has been highly supportive, and the various authors to whom I've looked for guidance.

Why are you pagan?
Put simply, it's more spiritually fulfilling for me to honour nature than to force myself to believe, unquestioningly, a story about a talking snake, or to believe in nothing at all.

And that's about it.

Stuff to do today...

same bitch time, same bitch channel...

Thought for the day: If humans get crabs, what do crabs get?

Posted by Frida Peeple at 06:32 AM | Comments (0)

October 08, 2004

Searchin' For Wackiness

Rori's post about somebody searching her site for "rori naked" prompted me to take a peek at the searches done on this blog and listed on the activity log, which is actually the main activity log for snarkypants.com and all its subdomains, such as yours truly.

'wicca+india' [There's no Wicca in India, as far as I know. I can't see why they'd need it. Hinduism is already polytheistic and, if I understand it correctly, allows for the practice of magic.]

A whole lot of entries for 'pictures' or 'picture' [I don't know who goes to somebody's blog just to look for pictures. I wonder if some of them are from some of the Indian or Pakistani guys who IM me while I'm in the chatroom, manage to read my profile and make their way here in the hopes of finding the pictures of me that they so desperately need in order to talk to me.]

'sex' [huge surprise there...there's one instance where somebody searched 3 times in under 2 minutes for it. Whoever you are, I sympathize with your plight, but this is not a 900 number.]

'APPLE CIDERING' [what in the flying...?]

'nicloe richie' [you know, because this IS the official "Simple Life" website]

'fuck my gmom' and, immediately afterwards, 'fuck my mom' [I'm not even gonna ask...]

'questions for 8 ball' [Aw, somebody misses it. Good, they can start an 8-ball meme and see what a white elephant it is.]

'picture of normal tits i can show on msn' [Be careful when you do these searches, people, because it gives us your IP address, which we can ban.]

'old wives' tales' [I'm nobody's wife and I ain't old yet, so I'm going to assume this person was disappointed.]

'rasputina' [one of the few that wasn't one of MY searches that actually had something remotely to do with the site]

'composition of human semen' [I don't know of anybody who blogs on this site who knows or cares. I think somebody must have confused us with a medical site. Same for the person who searched for 'health'...No health here, folks, move along...]

'come and find me' [This person also searched for 'ritter' and 'six feet under,' which is one of Lisa's shows, I believe; without that context, I'd feel inclined to take it as a challenge--albeit not one I'd be willing to take up.]

'dating' [This one turns up from time to time. I haven't the foggiest idea in hell why.]

So, the conclusion: People are really sodding bored. Many of them are horny, and a sizable percentage of them can't spell. Nothing new there, really.


Fortnight of forgetfulness: It's 9 weeks into my Depo, so I can blame it on that. Forgot my friend H's kid's birthday party [yes, I'm a heel, I'd be grateful if you'd shoot me]; forgot my friend R's card, which I did eventually send; forgot my checkbook, of all blessed things, at the place where I get counseling, and had to drive all the way back there and retrieve it; forgot the correct purchase order number on one of the parts we make and wrote it all lysdexic-like on the boxes about 5 different times; and, to make it worse, forgot the instruction sheet that's supposed to go in each of the boxes and did not remember it until about an hour and a half before shutdown, which meant slicing open 14 boxes, sticking a sheet in, and taping them back up.

Sadly, that's about all the news there was this week: People search for weird things, and I forgot everything that wasn't stapled to me.

No, I am not going to watch the debate. I'm just going to concentrate very hard on that little stone donkey on my altar, ask the gods to do what they think is right, and hope like hell that what they think is right is the same as what I think is right.

It's entirely possible that the long-term course of history requires that Bush serve another term, in order to hasten the inevitable and possibly necessary dissolution of the United States as an empire. Of course, I don't see why we couldn't have somebody smarter and less despotic, like Kerry, and have the country fall apart around our ears a little more gently. But then, I'm a human and I don't see it all. I have little choice but to leave it in the hands of whatever entities there may be that DO see it all. However, that doesn't mean I can't light red, white and blue candles, summon some energy and send it, while giving the Universe final veto power over whether it actually should be, and is, delivered.

Silly? Maybe. Ineffective? Could be. But one thing that magic gives us, and quite possibly the most important thing, is hope. [And I don't mean KerryTM brand hope, just hope that the outcome you asked for is what will happen.] Hope, even when gotten from less-than-empirical sources, is uplifting, and harmless as long as it doesn't blind you to reality. Lack of hope, on the other hand, shrivels the soul.

Must post...getting a sinking feeling that there's a reboot in my near future.

same bitch time, same bitch channel...

Beverage for the day: Diet Coke, 24-oz. Rots your stomach, rots your teeth, and your body turns the aspartame into formaldehyde as part of a semi-effective effort to rid itself of it. Good shit.

Posted by Frida Peeple at 01:01 PM | Comments (0)

October 04, 2004

Dos Lunes

...or something. How do you pluralise "lunes" in Spanish anyway? Lunes? Luneses? Luneces? Eh...

This week's MM...

Using the letters in the word 'AUTUMN' describe your favorite season.

I don't have a favourite season, though I do sorta like spring and fall more than the other two; and I noticed it doesn't say you have to start your descriptive words with the letters in "autumn," or that you have to use them in any particular order, which leaves me a lot of latitude...

So my answer is: Not as hot as summer; not as cold as winter; just right.

Though I will say a little something about winter, though: You know those yahoos with the thumpy car stereos that you can hear all the way in Nepal? They tend to keep their windows shut when it's cold. Being stupid, they also tend to crack their cars up on the ice and snow, thus giving us a break from their noise.

And summer does produce a lot of lovely greenery of the type that you really can't see at any other time. If it weren't for the suffocating humidity and the marauding clouds of bugs, it'd be fantastic.

Anyway, here's the previous week's MM...

Name THREE of your........

1. Pet Peeves:
Car stereos, people who ask for my ASL in chat or IM, and stupid lyrics.

2. Favorite Sounds:
Silence, the boss telling us to go home, and the opening riff to "You Shook Me All Night Long." [There are songs I like better, but there's something primeval in the simplicity of that riff that I just love. The breakdown in the coda of Dire Straits' "Money For Nothing" is another example.]

3. Desk Items:
Pencil cup with metric-to-standard conversions, thesaurus, and guitar tuner.

4. Biggest Fears:
Loss of privacy, loss of security, nuclear war with North Korea

5. Biggest Challenges:
Getting housework done, keeping myself from screaming at or strangling my cow-workers, making myself eat vegetables

6. Newest 'Toys':
Um, I don't talk about those. ~blush~ Seriously, though, the vast majority of the stuff I've bought recently doesn't count as "toys," unless you consider glow-in-the-dark nail polish a toy. Let's see, the glowy nail polish, and some nice printer paper I bought that I didn't strictly need, and some stuff for a charm bracelet I'm making for my Halloween costume. Wild stuff, eh?

7. Most Used Words:
The, dammit, and why.

8. Most Mispelled Words:
That's tough, because I don't misspell stuff much unless I'm typing and I mix my letters up. But I've caught myself using the wrong "to" [I should get forty lashes with a barbed flog for that, too, because we learned "to, too and two" in second frigging grade]; I mistype "because" nearly every time; and every word that has a d and a c in it ends up with the d and the c transposed.

9. Favorite Disney Characters:
I don't like Disney anymore. My favourite movie as a kid [well, one of them] was The Secret of NIMH; but I watched it recently, and although it was nice for a stroll down memory lane, I couldn't even say I still liked it enough to pick three faves out of it.

10. Bookmarks on Your Homepage:
Yeah. There's all kinds of them. Look to the sidebar on the right on the index page.

This is getting long, I'm gonna have to move soon so I can have extended entries again.

same bitch time, same bitch channel...

Posted by Frida Peeple at 04:45 AM | Comments (1)

October 03, 2004

Horse Sense

Two memes today. First, Le Brunch.

1) Have you ever ridden a horse?
Once, when I was very small.

2) What is your favorite horse story or movie?
I don't recall any well enough to make a determination like that.

3) If you had the means, would you own a horse?
Probably not. They're pretty, but I don't like the idea of breaking an animal's spirit, which is what you have to do to a horse if you don't want it to kill you.

4) Do you think it would be neat if we went back to everyone traveling by horse and buggy or just an inconvenience?
Well, considering that the average commute is something like 30-45 minutes each way by car, and that a horse's maximum speed can't be more than 20 or 30 miles an hour, I'd have to go with "inconvenience." I can't see my poor brother getting up at 3 in the morning to ride to work in a buggy. Also, the parking situation would be murder. Not only that, were every vehicle in America to be replaced with horse-drawn carriages, dealing with vehicle emissions would present enormous [and extremely smelly] difficulties.

5) Have you ever ridden in a hansom cab?
Not to my recollection. I have ridden in an Amish buggy, though.


Now, les Witches.

Do you believe dreams are ever symbolic?
I think they're nearly always symbolic--perhaps not always symbolic of something important, though.

How do you interpret dreams? Do you feel some are scenes from past lives? Future premonitons? Hidden thoughts and feelings?
I suspect most are a combination of two or more of the above. I generally interpret dreams by using the "alien from another planet" method I learned in an excellent dream interpretation book I have: I pick a major symbol from the dream. Let's say I dreamed about being in school, about 3 weeks into the semester, and realising that I haven't attended any of my classes. I pick, say, the school, and pretend I'm explaining to somebody from another planet--who has never seen a school--what one is. This is a good way for determining what my major unconscious associations with school are. In struggling to explain it, the mind will reach for its own personal definitions first. The things your mind most closely associates with school will be the most likely "synonyms" for which your mind is substituting the symbol of the school. So, for me, it would be a place where you learn, a place where normal people learn at a normal pace but intelligent people are bored silly, a place where you learn to interact socially and sometimes get your feelings hurt in the necessary process of learning to deal with people, where you're given tasks that are largely busy work but are sometimes fun, and so on. Well, this to me sounds like an excellent metaphor for adult life. Many symbols are MUCH more ambiguous than this, though, and sometimes it takes a while before you figure out what your mind actually means. Most of the time your unconscious is telling you something you already know, so I don't often bother to interpret dreams unless they feel particularly meaningful. I don't put any stock in "dream dictionaries" because each person's unconscious speaks to them in a different way, and the same symbol may mean different things to different people. No two people's psychological lexicons will be the same, which is why it's important to find what the symbols mean to YOU, not to some dipshit writing a book.

What do you feel was your most symbolic/meaningful dream?
I've had a couple really important ones. If you don't count the ones I have while on Benadryl [which is supposed to help you sleep, but which tends to give me extremely realistic and gory nightmares that make the Hellraiser trilogy look like the Wiggles], the most vivid and meaningful ones I've had were the one where I saw a lady who I believe was my grandmother, and may actually have been her spirit [I later saw a picture of her that I'd never seen, and it was the lady from the dream]; and the one in which I died, traveled across North America as a spirit, returned home to show my mother the journal of my travels, and upon being asked if I was going to continue travelling, insisted that I wanted to live again instead. The first one was a wake-up call to really get serious about figuring out exactly what was the family history of female problems and exactly how to treat my own; and the second was an epiphany about the decision not to commit suicide as long as I was still young and had a fighting chance at a reasonably happy life. [When I'm 80+ years old, in constant pain with arthritically crippled joints, and fully certain that my condition will not improve, I will exercise my right to reconsider that position. I have never been in favour of quantity of life over quality.]

And that's the memes.

same bitch time, same bitch channel...

Posted by Frida Peeple at 03:17 PM | Comments (0)

New Commandment

Thou shalt not call thy female acquaintances "girlypants."

Yes, somebody actually did that. Somebody that I'd previously talked to and thought I liked. Turns out he's one of those people who, if you express an opinion different from his, takes it to mean that you're saying you're right and he's wrong. You know the type--you say, "Well, yes, X is an emotional topic for me because I had this or that problem," and his response is, "Oh, so my life is all rainbows and flowers then" or something. It's sort of a shame, because I'd thought I'd made a new friend, but I really don't need friends that put words in my mouth. I also don't need friends that haven't mastered the idea of women wanting to be seen as people instead of equated with girls. [You know, because women and girls are all the same thing. They all have vaginas, so whether they're 5 or 55, makes no difference whatsoever. I could just fucking cry.]

Next time somebody does something like that, I'm just gonna turn his reasoning back on him and call him an orangutan or a lemur or something. Why not? They're all primates like us, why get hung up on the exact terminology? Aren't all primates the same?

Oh, and apparently I'm not fun because I don't flirt with people I'm not going to sleep with. What IS the deal with that, anyway? Why would you make [physical or verbal] googoo eyes at somebody and lead them on if you don't intend for it to go anywhere? That's like going to the store, picking out stuff, taking it to the checkout counter, and then just leaving it at the checkout and wandering away. SHIT OR GET OFF THE POT, PEOPLE.

And I want my teeth ripped out and replaced with fake ones. Fake ones don't hurt.

Anyway, that's how my day has been so far, how about yours?


Marketing idea for the day: Women's tee that says, "Don't call me baby unless you wanna change my poopy diapers." The man that laughs and asks me where I got it will be my Prince Charming.

Posted by Frida Peeple at 07:10 AM | Comments (0)