Thursday, November 17, 2011
Flash forward to maaaany years later: I got into Wicca, but I didn’t practice strictly or anything like that. In fact, as time goes on, I have found myself rather disconnected from a good deal of it. I describe myself as “Pagan with a dash of ‘Why bother’?” because I look around at the world and all of the truly horrible things that go on, and I sincerely have trouble believing in much of anything other than the fact that people are pretty fucked up.
When it comes to the kids, it’s a challenge, especially since nobody in the family shares my “faith” (if it can even be called that). Thankfully, they aren’t against it, either. (Not entirely, anyway, but wait, okay?) Anyway, teaching the girls will definitely be rather tricky: I want them to be able to be exposed to different religions so that they can choose what’s right for them – if anything, that is – but finding a way to go about that hasn’t been easy, and it sure as hell hasn’t been at the top of my To-Do List.
And that’s when my mom stepped on my toes by giving Midget a copy of The Bible and talking about God.
Without my permission.
Without Jeremy’s permission.
Without even mentioning it to either of us before doing it.
She told me about it after the fact and even gave me my own Bible to, IDK, mull over? Maybe she’s hoping to sway me back to the proverbial light? Because she was extremely vocal about disagreeing with my particular brand of spirituality: She shouted that it was “Devil shit,” and “evil,” and the like. (On the flip side, my dad was oddly supportive; he’ll even makes good-natured jokes about crystal balls and patchouli – it’s awesome.)
So, now, Midget has a Bible that I have tried to keep away until at least a little later (because we all know how frustrating it can be to explain anything remotely complex to small children) but she keeps finding the fucking thing and asking questions that I don’t feel that I can even begin to explain at this point in her life.
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
Bahahahaha! I made it to this week’s installment of…
- When I heard that Hollywood was making a film adaptation of 21 Jump Street I groaned and said, “Whyyyyy?” Then, I caught the red band trailer for it a few days ago and now I actually want to see it.
- I heard the new single from Chevelle on the radio and was terribly disappointed. What the fuck, Chevelle?
- Everyone’s been sick again, signaling the usual Seattle brand of wintery despair… before winter, of course. Runny noses and Man Colds need to get the hell out of my house already.
- So, when Ultimate Marvel vs. Capcom 3 was announced a couple of months ago, I called bullshit so hard, but now that I’ve seen the reveal trailer for Dead Rising’s Frank West, I think it just might be worth picking up. Of course, Chuck Greene (from Dead Rising 2) is an infinitely better character, but whatever. West has some pretty cool shit going on.
Zombies and weapons and cameras -- oh, my!
- UMvC3: I have to wonder why my head bitch, Jill Valentine, is still DLC?! Capcom fucking mystifies me. (At least that shit transfers over; a lot of people – myself included – would be bloody pissed if they had to pay for her and Shuma Gorath all over again.)
- Okay, last MvC3 related thought for the day: Watching combo videos depresses the hell out of me. I mentioned it awhile back, how my old, damaged hands just can’t keep up with some of the more complex controller inputs? Yeah. Thanks, PHS.
- Still have yet to finish Alan Wake. Think I’ll do it by the end of the year? (Me neither.)
- I almost broke my nose a couple of weeks ago when a tackle-hug for Midget went horribly wrong. I bring this up because even though it’s way better than it was, it still hurts. A lot. Also, I reckon my glasses are now slightly crooked from the incident.
- Costco pumpkin pie is surprisingly tasty. And massive. And massively tasty.
- I caught the first episode of American Horror Story a few days ago (On Demand = love) and I am really intrigued by it. I didn't find it scary at all... just, weird. Is it supposed to be scary?
I had absolutely no intention of so much shit spilling out this week; I suppose I'm making up for the last few lethargic posts. IDK. Whatever. So, there you have it. I've hit fifty-two, so now that I've accomplished that goal, I may or may not take a break next week.
Until next time~
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
Ho hum, you guys. Ho. Hum.
- So, what can I say about Halloween today…? I’ve mentioned a million times that it’s Munchkin’s birthday, so I’ll start with that. We threw a party for her on Sunday so that folks could make it over, and I am bloody exhausted. So much cleaning and planning and decorating went into it. All in all the birthday and the holiday were successful: the birthday girl was/is happy, no one got killed and we have an absolutely ridiculous amount of candy in the house.
- Okay, so there was one Halloween fail, and that was my costume. I was going to be an undead police officer (I think I linked a pic a few weeks back?). I had a shit-ton of fake blood, a bomb-ass prosthetic bite wound, and all kind of cool shit to really make the costume… pop (LOLZ forever because I crack myself up sometimes). Unfortunately, do to time constraints, the only bit of makeup I was able to apply was around my eyes; the bite and my skillz with powders and paints went totally unused, so I was basically handing out candy in blood-stained fetish wear. Maybe next year…
- One of Midget’s schoolmates had a birthday party on Saturday, so, of course, I was tapped to take her, and, of course, my social anxiety went fucking HAYWIRE. Then, as some sort of cruel joke by the Fates, Midget is the one who flipped her shit at the party because she felt nervous and shy! So then I got to be a total hypocrite and give her a pep-talk about how she shouldn’t be nervous, etc. She got over it, I didn’t. I was ridiculously out of my comfort zone – it was insane. Thankfully, the party ended up being super short, so I was able to get the fuck out of there with minimal damage.
- I have an awesome Willow maquette from Buffy the Vampire Slayer, but there are two things that are bothering me about it right now: two of her fingers have broken off (when the fuck…?!), and she has the absolute worst fucking base of any collectible I have ever seen. You have to, like, fit her feet into the contours of the billowy bits or whatever, but it is precarious and nerve-wrecking as fuck because there's nothing that locks it in -- it all depends on the thing's own weight. I can’t even tell you how many times I have flipped my shit over the near-dropping/falling of this statue.
- It’s fucking cold out here and I am not a cold-weather person. I want to go to the beach.
- Jeremy and I stupidly decided to re-arrange our living room furniture on 2am Sunday morning. Once we shifted everything around, it turned out that the layout of our place (we have a great room as opposed to separate living/dining rooms) just wasn’t going to work with our furniture, number of electrical outlets, etc., so we had to move everything back. And it sucked. And I got two hours of sleep going into Munchkin’s little shindig.
- The car needs an oil-change and the defroster is being a fickle bastard. Not looking forward to dealing with either of these things. Don’t I already have enough to do?
- Trying to get my dad to get his ass out here for a visit next month. It probably won’t happen.
Alright then; time to get up and continue my cleaning and breaking-down of decorations. Though, honestly, I would love to say, “Fuck it,” and spend a couple of hours catching up on sleep.