Wednesday, November 30, 2005

Claris, drop out...

...feel like that was all I heard this morning at practice. Odd steering on that entire row.

R.S. Monkey, where's my link? Huh? I'm making landing pages, I could use the distraction. ;)

Tuesday, November 29, 2005

"Is this my e-mail service or did I stumble into some weird blog?"

One officemate's reaction to the present debate over the top 10 Rock Songs of all time that's going around at the moment.

Also? that crashing sound you hear would be my motivation to work with a whopping half hour left at work. The fun part is hey - I'm not even at school yet! I'm tellin' ya, I've gotta slow down or this life of sex, drugs, & rock n' roll will be the death of me....

Centrifugal force does not exist.

For some reason, I had that lecture from physics in my brain this morning as I did a 2k on the erg...and then I opened a browser when I got to work, & saw they had an item named "Define centripedal force".So hey - I guess I'm not the only person in the world having random physics thoughts.

I always liked physics. The theory, anyway. It was the math that kicked my ass.
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Went & rowed with The Big Kids (as I jokingly call them) today. Felt like the shortest kid on the short bus that just got mainstreamed. I suck once we get to a higher speed stroke per minute. seriously. I went & sat on the erg after (there was a line for the shower) - I think I'm going to have to just resign myself to bonding with my buddy the erg & working on getting a solid, controlled 24 and then working my way up on the stroke rate. As I told HH, one cannot hate the erg, or the erg will hate back. "You must woo the erg..."
so here I go, wooing the erg. ;)

In other news, Katie's being slow on getting a lifting program, and I can't believe that putting "Womens' crew winter lifting program" gives me everything BUT a lifting routine. What the hell? Coaches nowadays aren't as dependent on the intenet as the rest of us? Rather annoying, that.
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Hey - turns out that at Money!Co, when you have an ad in a magazine that you designed, they actually give you a copy of the magazine instead of you having to go out & buy it to have it for your portfolio! oh my god, it's like...courtesy to your employees! I dunno if I can take this kind of shock, but I'll work on it.

Monday, November 28, 2005

The day a tree fell on my car.

Sort of.

So I get up this morning to go to crew...Now, I'm not very good at this morning thing. In truth, for me, it's hands-down the hardest part of the sport, what with the 5:20am start time & all. What I've started doing is just packing my gym bag & anything else I might need for the next day the night before & just leaving it next to my front door so that I literally get up, put on my workout clothes, let the dog out while I'm putting my sneakers on, pick up my gym bag, & go.

Today, that worked fine, I was running early for once....

...and I couldn't find my car.

Fuck.

I have street parking. which means that my car is usually parked within a one block radius of my apt. Every so often, I have to park farther away than that, but when that happens, I usually write a note & tape it to the wall next to my front door so that I remember where I parked. (Been an issue in the past? How can you tell?) So I circle the block, gym bag on my shoulder, looking for my car.

No car...

::sigh:: knowing that my car is presently at a legality status with the state of California that could be termed "questionable" (aka, I'm registered but it's getting repaired so I pass smog), I figured I'd been towed. Which hey, there's $300 I'll never get back.

Call the sherriff's office. They refer me to the tow company. Tow company guy's got nothing.
"Great," I say. "I mean, ya know, good that I'm not towed, but bad that I don't know where my car is."
The guy on the other end laughs and goes, "Think it got stolen?"
"Maybe, but who the hell steals a Kia Sportage with dents and no stereo*?"
Stereo got stolen last July, I just never got around to replacing it.

Having heard several stories of silly girls who'd called & reported their car stolen when in fact it was just parked in an unusual place, I get my flashlight, and at 5am in the morning, am walking around my neighborhood, double checking for my car.

And finally, I see my New Hampshire lisence plate.

Under what looks like half a tree.

It's been incredibly windy the last couple of days here in L.A. Like, hardcore windy. And it would seem that yesterday afternoon, I parked my car under a tree. An old tree, which I guess wasn't all that stable, & sometime during the night, the overhanging branch let go and fell on my car. Luckily for me a) the roof rack seems to have held up and b) they don't build trees out here like they do in New England - so there wasn't any noticeable damage. It just, you know, hid my car from me in the dark at 4:40 in the morning, and meant that I didn't make it to practice.

I made up for this by going to the gym & doing a 3k on the erg, but I can't wait to go into practice tomorrow morning & have to explain to G that I missed practice 'cause a tree was hiding my car. Good times, good times...

Is this year over yet or what? 'cause I am so done.

Sunday, November 27, 2005

nice to meet you, anyway...

Just for the record, dating in LA - sucks. Sucks Big giant HONKIN' Monkey Balls.

Went on yet another blind date today (salon.com, btw, has way better personals than match. just in case anyone's looking) and you know, I go out with these guys, and they're perfectly nice guys, but...I just don't give a shit. there's no ooph. and the one guy that I did like - we go out on a few dates, and he calls me up on Fri night & goes, "I can't see you any more...." because he's having issues and can't get close to anyone right now. Well, on the one hand, yes at least he was decent enough to call & say something instead of just fading off into the ether. On the other hand - I actually liked that one, dammit!

also, hello? This is LA. We have more shrinks per square mile than Nebraska has corn. In this town, everyone's got issues. Hell, I've got more issues than a library! My take on it isn't whether or not you have issues, but more whether your issues & my issues live well together.

I dunno. Maybe it's just me. Maybe I'm broken. because seriously, I'm beginning to think I'm broken. Or just an incredibly picky bitch. is that it? Should I like, lower my standards? I don't even know that I have standards - it more a gut thing with me. It's just, I'm looking for...oomph, so to speak. You know? That you're standing next to someone, and you want to grab their hand, or kiss them on the cheek, and it just...you just smile when they're around.

It's not like I'm looking for marriage, gods know. I can barely manage to take care of myself & the dog right now...but it would be nice to go out with someone on a first date that I'd be interested in seeing for a second date, and just...someone that I enjoy spending time with, and if something happens, it happens, and yay, but it doesn't have to happen. although having some regular sex thrown into that equation wouldn't be unwelcome. *g* and how do you do that, other than to keep meeting people you don't mesh with until you find someone you do?

It's just the until you get there part that sucks, I suppose.
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oh and on a note of "yeah right" -

much like my desire to find Eric Bana & do bad things to him until neither of us could walk after seeing Troy...

...having heard John Mayer's new CD, I'd like to state that he is one of the few boys I would be willing to have as my babies' daddy*. ;)



*until I got to LA, I never realized people used that term in all seriousness, but they do. that's an actual relationship classification that's right up there with brother-in-law or somesuch. wacky!

Friday, November 25, 2005

Can we have a taping intervention?


So my hands have been a wee bit...battered as of late, thanks to rowing. (battered=open sores which really suck when you have long hair and it gets to the point where you fear having to shower. I mean, don't worry, I'm still showering, but I just really don't like washing my hair right now. But I'm totally showering - just so we're clear.)

But in rowing, you don't wear gloves. It's like a point of pride - rowers don't wear gloves. Which means that a couple of us have been trying all sorts of tape configurations in a vain attempt to preserve what's left of the skin on our hands.

Today's experiment included me just giving up & wrapping my knuckles up the way I used to when I was boxing. I mean, that just covers everything, right? Considering that T announced today we'd be doing a timed lap of the Marina (aka, the equivalent of a race) it seemed like a decent test of this new configuration...

For about 4k, it worked fiiiine. Little sticky but all right. Actually, on my right hand the sticky worked out well, since i could actually flip w/o gripping the oar - the tape had kind of solidifed & stuck my hand to the handle, so there was no grip required. heh.

Then, the tape started to shift...my left hand in particular. The constant rubbing of the oar as it flipped made the tape slowly roll upwards, which was actually really uncomfortable. meanwhile, you know...still rowing. can't stop, middle of a distance piece...but the tape is still rolling up.

This is the part where you just keep rowing, but you have thoughts like, "Okay, everybody, we need to go a little faster now, because I'm not sure which will give out first - the end of the course, or the tape on my hands...and this could be verra bad..."

Turns out the answer to the question was the tape on my hands. We were literally about, oh, 1k from the finish, and it happened - the oar stuck to my hand, I couldn't feather, and I caught a crab. For the non-rowers, this means that my oar went into the water the wrong way, and the force of the boat's movement sucked it under, which means you have an oar handle going straight for your head.

Now, I've gotten fairly good at recovering from a crab - normally, I just lean back, lift the oar out of the water, & keep going.

Not. Today.

That motherfucker was gone faster than a cheap prom dress at 2 am, I tell ya. I literally just laid down in my seat, which of course scared the crap out of R.S. Monkey who was sitting behind me, since all of a sudden she's got me in her lap. (Hi, how are ya, scuse me, sorry...) and yes, R.S. Monkey to answer your question, I did bounce my skull off the gunnel, but I figured that given the choice between that & having the butt of the oar inflict a concussion & a big ass mark on my forehead, that was the lesser of the evils.

Needless to say, I have to go order those neoprene handguards now, 'cause um, yeah. Everybody else can be a badass, but I give up. As long as they don't take time penalties for it in a race, I'm wearing the frackin' handguards.

And in a moment of sad commentary on me, T looked a little surprised when he asked, "Seriously, are you all right?" and I was like, "Yeah, I'm fine..." I didn't have the heart to explain that after a couple years of fight training combined with general clumsiness, I just have a high pain tolerance.

Well okay - a high pain tolerance for everything except, it would seem, blisters on my hands.

Note: I would still like to maintain that the best line of the morning was my 3 Seat (whom we call Scolio, it's a thing) remarking that she didn't know we were doing the entire distance piece until about halfway through when we turned around at the bottom of the marina and Scolio was thinking, "You know, I could totally use a rest...wait, we're going back up too? Without stopping?" ahahahahaaaa...

Wednesday, November 23, 2005

Corporate Fear - coming to a theatre near you.

So we've been dealing with a rather...technologically inept salesperson this week. Amongst other interesting questions, I think the topper was when she e-mailed yesterday because she'd designed a landing page all on her own, and wanted to know how she would go about activating the html for the link from the PDF she created off a PowerPoint slide.

There are so many things wrong with that sentence that all I could do was pinch the bridge of my nose, close my eyes, and take a deep breath. Okay, I took more than one deep breath.

Anyway, so we're getting that one taken care of, and I'm standing in the Snr. Dsgnr's cubicle while she writes the final e-mail. Snr. Dsgnr. hesitates, and says, "I don't know how to end this..."
Me : "You're afraid to put down 'please let me know if you need anything else'*, aren't you?"
Snr. Dsgnr : "Yes, yes I am."

*standard pleasantry when you have a job that involves sending out three versions of a file all. damn. day.

The epitome of Corporate Fear isn't losing your job, it isn't that your boss will like, hit on you, or anything that they show you in those HR training videos. Oh no no - Corporate Fear is when you're literally afraid to talk to people because you didn't want to know there was a level of inanity that's actually lower than the rock bottom we already thought we'd hit.

Did I mention that while they've ordered me a new computer that should be here by the end of the week, they're not sure how to go about getting me a trash can? Seems ordering those can take up to a month. Wacky.
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Oh, and to my Bow Seat - we so need to get you a blog....

Tuesday, November 22, 2005

I suppose I should just mainline the Starbucks at this point.

Monday :
crew
work
school
gym
home

start: 4:30 am
end: 11:30 pm

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Tuesday :
crew
work
school
gym
home

start: 4:30 am
end: probably midnight

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Wednesday :
crew
work
gym
home

start: 4:30 am
end: 7pm

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and none of that counts the time to finish my homework. frack. I should have the newest ep of Rome on my hard drive when I get home, and I won't have time to watch it until Thurs...::whinge here::

before anyone asks, one of my neighbors walks Zoey for me when my days stack up like this.

To borrow one of jmhm's more interesting expressions, I'd club a baby with a kitten right about now if it meant I could get everything done and get eight hours' sleep.

It's only hubris if I fail...

...or at least, that's what Cesar said on Rome a few weeks ago. That in mind, my buddy Sam's gone & gotten himself a spiffy new Blog.

The Most Important Blog You've Ever Read


Those of you who've been in on our madness for a while may remember Sam from the NoDignity.com days, when he contributed such gems of wisdom as :

A singing midget...

The DrunkBoy files - aka, what happens when the underaged beer drinker is given internet access...

but hey - don't let those drive you away from his site. After all, I'm sure that Sam's way more mature now.
sort of.

Monday, November 21, 2005

you go. No, YOU go....

So this am, I was supposed to go do a 6k test on the erg. I kinda bailed on the one on Wed. due to having a stomach flu the same day that my monthly visitor arrived early. Normally I don't have PMS issues,but hey - just a freakish confluence of health issues, what can I say?

Anyway, so there were a couple of us that missed the appointed time for various reasons. Myself, HH, and three people I shall call L1, L2, & L3.

As with many things in life, there are the people that get it, & those that don't. In terms of rowing...L1, L2, & L3...don't get it. They're just - if you think about it, these are the people that in your office, you hope like hell isn't who you have to make a presentation to the CEO with. Does that make sense? You're sure that hey, they're perfectly nice people, it's just that in this particular arena...well, there are some nails on a chalkboard somewhere that I'd rather deal with. But it's a team, it's a club, so you smile, and you're nice, and you're patient, and you explain to the people that have been rowing longer than you how to work the erg that they've been using longer than you... and inwardly, you ::sigh:: a bit. You know how it is.

So I get there, knowing that I have to erg today, & see that L1 - L3 are my other erg buddies for the day. ::cue mental sigh::

Then HH walks in, & (mentally) I'm all "Thank god I'm not alone!"
out loud I possibly said, "Bitch, you have to erg!" because hey, I'm friendly that way. In truth, that was kinda friendly - in New England, sarcasm isn't just a sport, it's a way of life. Katie & I are often way meaner to one another.

HH is a "gets it" person. I'm gonna be up front here. I'm a snooty rower - my friends are snooty rowers, and really, that's the way you have to be when you're racing, because if the people in your boat aren't there to work, they shouldn't be in the boat. HH is one of the few guys in the club, and after a couple conversations, it was decided that we would adopt him & make him an honorary part of our girls' club, because he's Our Kind of People - admittedly, this is partly because while he seems really nice, and he's got the whole clean cut lawyer-boy thing going on...he's just as petty & twisted as we are. Initially, he'll act all quiet & nice & all that good shit, but yeah. No no, he's just as bad, possibly worse.

Now, there were five ergs, and only two of them worked. Fuck. There's five of us. And since both HH & I have the unfortunate habit of showing up five (or ten) minutes late to practice, we had last dibs.

Taking our options into consideration, I looked at HH & went, "Wanna go for a run?"

Meanwhile, the Three Stooges are trying to figure out how to have all five of us do 6k in the time allotted on two machines. (which you pretty much can't do, btw.) L1 is crunching on a PowerBar with all the culinary etiquette of a cow processing cud, L2 is busy telling everyone that she can wait because she doesn't have to go to work until late, and L3 is questioning me as to my electrolyte balance due to the aforementioned illness last Wed. that is the reason I didn't finish the gorram test then.

I manage to escape to do...something, I don't remember what, and HH & I look at one another, & he goes, "I hate them!"
I couldn't help it, I laughed so hard - you know, sometimes, you feel like you're the meanest person in the world? I had been feeling like that, and then HH said exactly what I was thinking. Thank you man, thank you so much.

However, friendship only goes so far.

Me : "I am so tempted to just go to the gym & use the erg there." (HH & I discovered we go to the same gym)
HH "Why can't we do that? I could use the one at the gym at my work."

But now L3 has heard what we said, and since she's like, some sort of competitive bodybuilder or somesuchshit, she's all, "Well I could just take you guys over to my gym, it's got four ergs." (Our gym only has one)

My brain - Oh dear god. Not one on one. I couldn't take one on one, I need a buffer....
Me : "Um, why don't you go do the one at our gym, and I'll just go tonight & do it..."
HH "No, I think you should go to the one at the gym, I'll use the one at work..."

..and it almost started to descend into a small conversation of "No, really you go..." "Oh I think you should...." for about three minutes because neither of us wanted to somehow end up stuck with L1, L2 & L3 while they attempted to figure it out - it was kind of comical, really. If, you know, comical was somehow equal to "Oh my fucking god who are you people & how come no one's killed you for the good of the pack?".
Oh, admit it. You've so thought about other people.

Then for one split second, it looked as though a third erg worked...and I suddenly was going to be in with the fun...but alas, no, the screen didn't function properly, so I stood up & went, "Oh, too bad!" and made to leave.

HH saw me starting to leave behind him (he was already halfway gone) and went, "Look, I really don't want to do this right now.." and I hissed back, "I don't want to do it either!" So we told the others we were going to go to the gym & do the erg test there, & we both just kinda...left.

Now, personally, I went to the gym. there wasn't enough time to do the erg test, so I went on the elliptical instead. I'll go back tonight & do my 6k test.

Where did HH go? I think the gym at his work, but he wasn't at Golds when I got there. If I find him on the erg when I get there tonight, I'm going to laugh my ass off.

Welcome to crew. Because at 5 am, you just can't manage any semblance of maturity. ;)

Friday, November 18, 2005

Bad credit, no credit my ass.

After about a month of attempting to shop for a car, I am coming to a sad, sad conclusion. Thanks to the first two years out of college, my credit is still of the suck, and it actually might be cheaper for me in the long run to simply drop the $1500 it would take to fix my car completely than to get a car loan & pay the 12% interest rates that I'm being quoted. And that's by the sketchy companies...let's not talk about reputable ones.

::sigh::

Me thinketh no new car for me before the end of the year. Bummer.

The only good news is that I actually know exactly how much it's going to cost me to MAKE my car legal & running, so hey...I can budget for that, right? I figure this way I won't feel bad if I do take a gig on Saturdays as a msngr., because hey - car's already at 160k miles, the extra won't kill it.

Actually, the truth of the matter is that because of the placement of Stodgy!Money!Co., I've literally cut my mileage per week in half. It's 2 miles from the boathouse, so instead of about 60 miles a day, I'm doing 30, and even on nights when I have school, I only do an extra ten miles b/c it's right up the 405 to get there. With gas prices dropping, keeping the leetle SUV won't be the death of me as it was when I was going to Pasadena every day for Ins!Co.

What will REALLY suck will be paying CA ins. prices...double what I pay now. ::sadness::

So I'm probably going to head with that plan - spend the $500 to make the car legal, then slowly fix the shocks & oil leak so that the car will actually last me another year or two, and then just go get the various bumps & dents banged out of the doors so that it looks a bit nicer...hopefully w/o a car payment to worry about (since the Clarismobile is at least paid for now) I can just pay cash the next time I go car shopping - which incidentally will most likely NOT be shopping in CA by then, which should also lower the cost of the car quite a bit. Oy.
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In other news, I'm horribly coveting Infiniti's ad campaign. not that I want to buy one of their cars, just that I love the campaign itself.

Tuesday, November 15, 2005

Dilbert, party of one.

Dept Dir: Claris! your company e-mail is set up now, so hey, you're a real person. and I sent your new logon to your e-mail.

Claris: Okay, but I'm in on Snr. Dsgnr's acct. on the network right now...

::blank look from Dir.::

Claris:..so I can't log on to access the e-mail you sent me of my passwords because I don't know what my passwords are to get on the system in the first place.

Luckily, the Dir laughed at himself & said he'd print them off for me.

Somedays, I wonder if technology isn't eating our brains...

::envy!::

Dude, you know ShrubCo is so totally jealous of the King of Jordan right now.

In a bid to keep foreign militants from operating covertly in Jordan, Interior Minister Awni Yirfas announced new regulations demanding that all Jordanians notify authorities within 48 hours of any foreigners renting an apartment or house.
"Violators of this regulation will face legal ramifications," Yirfas said without elaborating.
Authorities will demand that Jordanians provide the names, nationalities and passport details of any foreigner renting a property.

Monday, November 14, 2005

New job, jiggedly jig.

so, yet another chapter in the saga of "Claris attempts to find permanent employment that won't drive her to panic attacks" begins. I started a contract to perm gig as a designer/developer for a finance publication that's about 2.5 miles away from the Boathouse. bonus!

They seem fairly nice, & unlike many gigs that I've started, they actually had
a) a workstation for me
b) something for me to do right away.

Why is this important? Lemme tell ya why.

No matter what you might think about being "kind" or going "easy" on the new person, it's like the first day of school. I'm nervous, I have no idea where the bathroom or the exit is until you show me, and really? I just want to stay under any authoritative radar & blend with the other kids - and the best way to accomplish that is to have a task to do so that no one wonders what it is that I do.

So if your answer to the new person's first day at work is to hand them a stack of software documentation & say, "We should have your network password in about three days" - that's cruel. Always have shit set up before they arrive. really, it's better that way.

Anyway, so first day at what I shall call Stodgy!Money!Co. has gone fine. I'm doing work, they don't appear to hate me inherently.

Although, I have to admit that when I showered at the boathouse this morning, I realized I'd forgotten to bring a pair of work heels with me - and there wasn't time to go home & get some. So it's possible I wore sneakers in today. However, no one has asked, & since I've spent most of the day with my feet below a desk, I don't think anyone actually noticed.

But that doesn't mean I didn't freak out when I realized I had no shoes & twenty minutes before work. Gotta be a bit more careful about that from now on...::sigh::

Oh, and they have all outside mail blocked. Bummer.

Tuesday, November 08, 2005

oh dear god.

it's like every web design tool ever barfed after eating cotton candy...

There's a princess, then there's this..

Next blog is a dangerous button, people. Use with caution.

Look I just...I just want to go to the bathroom!

So I walk into the bathroom at Ins!Co, and honestly, it's not a good moment. One of the odd side effects that I'm finding in going back to training is that food just...doesn't stay in me that long - my body burns through it quicker or something. Which sadly, means that the end of burning through it - aka, the visit to the dou-bluh-vais-say becomes a panic moment of "must. go. now."

I go in, & there's one of the office admins doing the thing where you check your skin because you think you're getting a zit, but you're also reminding yourself that you should pick at it, no matter how much you want to.

Now, I haven't been there that long (and even though no one in the office knows it, I gave my notice today to move to a freelance-to-perm job, so it's not like I'm going to be here after Friday anyway), so I don't actually like, know this woman. Therefore, I give her the Polite Smile - Hi, I know I've seen you, we're in the same space for eight hours a day and I still have no idea who the fuck you are, but I'm sure you're a nice person, so I'm just gonna smile & hope that fulfills what little social obligations I would have in a bathroom.

and then, she starts talking to me. Like, I go in the stall (otherwise known as Me-Space!) and she's rattling away about how she thinks she's getting a zit, and it'll look huge 'cause she thinks she has a big old nose, which leads to her telling me about how her mom is from Spain, and her dad's family is Irish & Cherokee, "so you know there's some Mexican in there somewhere!" and her friend tells her she must be a little black 'cause she's got a bubble butt, rah rah fucking rah.

Meanwhile, all I can think is - "Dude, I don't even know your name, but now I know your sister is 5'7" & has a much cuter nose than you & there are six kids in your family - what, your parents couldn't use some birth control? WTF is this?"

She finally packs up & leaves, which allows me to do my business in blessed peace & quiet. But then I'm thinking, oh my god - she sits like right outside the bathroom doors. You don't think she's like, noticing how long I've been in here, do you? and then she'll tell others that I'm oddly quiet in bathroom stalls & I take too long - and why am I getting paranoid about this in the first place, when she's the one that violated the Office Bathroom Rules of Leave Me the Fuck Alone Once the Stall Door Closes!

Jeebers, man. It's bad enough that I've started closing the door to the bathroom in my own apartment because my dog's new thing is to stand outside the door and wait for me - I don't need to have a Potty-Time Peanut Gallery at work too!

Monday, November 07, 2005

How you survive a sport where you have to arrive at 5:20 am every day.

Friday, November 04, 2005

Gives a whole new meaning to Tantra, if you ask me.

Scientists Find Fossils in Sexual Union
LUCKNOW, India - This was no one-night stand. Scientists in India say they have discovered two fossils fused together in sexual union for 65 million years.

it's the little things that do you in, really.

When you stop & take a good look at your life, that is.

I mean, you start to think about who you are, and what you're doing, and why you do it, and how much of it is because of where you come from.

I always end up angry. I'm either angry, or driven, or slightly manic about something. I can't seem to ....settle down. ever. I feel guilty when I get a full eight hours' sleep because I should have gotten something done in that time. everything I do seems to involve...force of some kind. and it's wrong. there is a definitive lack of zen in my life, or even a lack of reach for zen.

about seven years ago, I took a short introduction to irish Gaelic class...and ever since then, I tend to use Gaelic words for my passwords for...all the things you need passwords for.

But the one that I use the most?

dioltas

What does that mean? It means revenge. For some reason, out of all the words in the world that I could have used, that is the one that stuck in my psyche. And I can't help but wonder why that is. What is wrong with me that I'm so prone to being angry? why is it, that after a lifetime of avoiding organized sports, the one that I latch on to and find a talent for first time out is the one that involves physical combat? Why am I, in essence, just really good at that? I remember watching the movie Michael Collins, & in it Liam Neeson utters the line, "It's not the violence that scares me, it's that I'm good at it." and why is that? Why is my normal reaction some form of combat?

Because in the end, what good does being angry do? Not much. And you would think as the daughter of what would probably be called a functional alcoholic with an undiagnosed strain of manic depression, I'd know that. Intellectually, I do know that. And yet, every so often, still...I forget that, and I become the person I'm most afraid of being.