Mind Vomit by the ikss

i've always depended on the kindness of strangers

Howdy kids.

I am presently exhausted, having had an extremely bi-polar weekend of crazazy ups and downs. The highlights: Yesterday evening I hung out at my friend Ana's (founding member of FOK*) for a premature Thanksgiving feast (her friend was in town and Ana will actually be out of town for the real day, so we celebrated early. Any excuse to eat lots of food, you understand). Today I ate even more food at my parents' place, as the fan damily got together for our monthly "lets get together and eat a bunch of food and drink a lot of wine and talk a lot of shit" get-togethers.

We shan't discuss the low-lights, cuz that chit just ain't any fun.

I started a temporary job last week, which is good in that the pay is slightly more than I make on the dole; but bad in that I am only making slightly more than I make on the dole. Plus, it's one hell of a commute to get there. I leave my house at 6:30am and it takes me over an hour to get there. Coming home takes anywhere form 90 minutes to two hours. Dee-lightful. But hey, at least I have ample time to catch up on my CD listening. Another positive is that the job actually has nothing to do with credit. I'm helping a company go through a computer system conversion, seeing as I've headed a few of those before and they are converting to a system I know well. So that should keep me entertained for a while.

Of course, I got this job just as the popularity of one of my fan fiction stories is taking off, so I don't have as much time to write.

(We interrupt this blog post to say - Yay! The Angels just scored another run so they're only down by one run at this point! GO ANGELS!

We now resume our regular broadcasting schedule.)

I first started posting The Cocky and The Cougar in August and only at the Twilighted site. Things started out slowly. I got a small following of maybe 100 people and a few of those left me reviews each chapter. It was nice, it was fun, it was groovy. Then I decided to start posting it at fanfiction.net like two weeks ago. And...um...holy canoli, Batman!

Two or three heavy hitters in the fandom have latched on to my story and started spreading the word via twitter and Facebook and all of those newfangled technologies that tragically un-hip dorks like me refuse to hop on to (hey - y'all are lucky I'm writing this on a computer and not using quill and paper). One of them (ObsessingOverEdward) started a forum thread for it at the Twilighted site and also offered to help me make a banner to advertise it. Yet another (vixen1836) is going to interview me for a fic-centered blog she contributes to. I've received more reviews for the story in the last week than I have in the last two months, combined. Far more, in fact. Far, far more.

I am just...man. I'm astounded. Seriously astounded. I have met a number of really wonderful people who have sent me emails and PMs and whatnot, encouraging me and commiserating over some of the more irritating aspects of the fandom and giggling over the wonder that is Grey Goose vodka and Larry Mullen Jr. I've also discussed strategies for getting my "real" novel published with more than one published author. You have no idea how supportive and helpful these people have been to me - a perfect stranger! They just like my story and so contacted me, simply in order to offer their encouragement...Man. I'm astounded.

I can not tell you what the kind words of these strangers has meant to me this week. As I inferred in my last post, there's been a little dark cloud hovering over my household lately. There have been times when I seriously just did not know how much more I could take. Then my In Box started flooding with kind and supportive words from complete strangers.

If my story continues to gain in popularity, I assume some readers who aren't so in love with it will start making their presence known and I will no longer be left giddy by every email in my In Box. However, I will never forget what the power of a few kind words from people with absolutely no ulterior motive can do for one's psyche and I will be forever indebted to the fandom for the magic they have worked this week. If any of you are reading this blog now, please know that I thank you from the bottom of my heart.

And I think the Angels are gonna fucking lose this game and, hence, the series. Dammity damn, damn, damn.

 

 

 

*Friends of Karen

 

did norm bruise this easily?

What kind of 40 year-old woman comes in to work with like five hickies on her neck???

This one, that’s what kind.

OK, granted - the only person I know who bruises more easily than I is my 81 year-old mother…

And actually, I also have bruises all up and down my legs. They mysteriously appeared while I was in Vegas over the weekend and I have absolutely no idea where they came from. One would think I’d remember, like, running into things and whacking my shins and knees repeatedly, wouldn’t one? I didn't even drink all that much! Well - not as much as usual anyway. Not so much that I whacked my shins repeatedly and don't remember...

But still…so embarrassing…like gee - I wonder what the ikss was up to last night!

Ah, well. We had a lot of fun. :)

So Las Vegas…also lots of fun, although not the sort of fun which results in a multitude of hickies on one's person. I do have the myriad of leg bruises, though, so that's something. I got no sleep and won no money and traffic getting home on Sunday was the worst I have ever seen (and I do not exaggerate this point in the slightest); but I danced a lot, ate a lot of good food, saw some dolphins and some lions and tigers (no bears, oh my) and met lots of cool peeps at various Black Jack tables. In my book, that’s a win.

Plus, apparently the dealers at the Hard Rock all know me by name. I walk in there and it’s like I’m f’n Norm from Cheers.

Dudes, I haven’t even been in the Hard Rock in like a year! Seriously…it was nice and they were all super-cool people, but I really do wonder just what I have done there to have made such an impression.

Knowing myself as I do, that’s a very scary thing to ponder…

men in hats and chicken tacos make my world go 'round

I watched The Hangover this weekend. F’n hilarious.

I realize that you all knew this already, because you actually see movies in a timely manner. But I thought I would throw my two cents in, regardless.

I never did mention that I saw Public Enemies on its opening weekend. That is rather noteworthy, since I rarely see films on their opening weekend…or even in like, their first month of release. But, you know…I make exceptions for movies wherein Johnny Depp plays a depression-era gangster.

There were hats involved, people. Johnny Depp, hats and Tommy guns.

*ahem*

Give me a minute.

Where was I? Oh…yeah, so that movie was good, too. It wasn’t as good as I’d hoped it would be, but I wasn’t disappointed that I spent the $37 or whatever the hell it cost to go see it in an actual theater. That’s saying something, right?

Standing in line for popcorn was such an excruciating experience that it turned hilarious. Liz and I were laughing hysterically along with the couple in front of us and I ended up telling the brain dead gal behind the counter that it was probably against the rules for her to smoke weed on her break.

In other news…I went out to a bar Friday night (I know – shocker!) to see my bro-in-law’s band play. The place they played was only like 15 minutes away from my home, so it was difficult to say no when my redheaded sister asked me to meet her there. I had fun, despite the fact that it was approximately 8,000 degrees in that place. I also had a good chicken taco, which in my mind is cause for major celebration.

My love for the chicken taco knows no bounds.

I was home early, but not early enough to be OK with the fact that the alarm went off at 6:30am Saturday. As I have mentioned, The Old Man has to work Saturdays. Which means, I don’t get to sleep in, either. Which sucks the big nut, but is not really my point, here.

My collegiate nephew was in town this weekend, so the fan damily got together on Saturday at my folks’ place. It was nice to see him, of course, and the fam is always a kick to hang with.

For reasons unknown to anyone but her, my brunette sister gave me two salt cellars from the 30’s. I collect salt cellars, you see, especially antique ones. So yay for me! An early birthday, I guess.

Not that I really need to speed up the aging process.

Today, despite the fact that I had a lot of plans which included such exciting tasks as cleaning bathrooms and grocery shopping, I am sitting in bed. I’m trying to write but am getting more reading done than anything. I am also waiting for The Old Man to leave. Not that I want him gone, precisely; but he did tell me he was going to hang out with his buddy today and I thought I would have the house to myself. I like those days when I have the house to myself and as it is already almost 1:00pm, I am starting to feel jipped.



Um…In truth, it would appear that I really have nothing to say. I think I am trying to kick-start the writing with his here blog entry.

Based on the content of said blog entry, I’m not at all sure it’s working.

in fact, my eyes are still bloodshot

Luckily, I look good in red.

It’s been a strange few days in the land of the ikss. Let’s start with the not-so-fun stuff so we can end on a high note by discussing the fun stuff.

Things are not exactly groovy at The Friendly Flower Place these days. Just your average, general job-hatingness aside, we had more lay-offs and other stuff which resulted in a 10% pay cut for the rest of us left behind.

God Bless our economy.

As I was saying in an email to my sister this morning, I know I should look for another job. I have known this for months. The prospect of hunting for a new job in Credit, however, makes me seriously depressed and stomach-achey. So let’s hope I can start making a little bit of money with my writing before push comes to shove. I don’t mind working a real job while I write, but it would be nice not to have the pressure of making so much money. I’d like to be able to go work for Habitat for Humanity, making less than half as much money as I make now, and not worry about the financial situation.

Wouldn’t it be nice? The sky is very blue in my world, by the way.

Friday, the day this all went down at Friendly Flower Place, I took the day off of work so that I could go to the hospital with my parents. My mom had to have a heart procedure done and even though we assumed everything would go well...well, Mom is 80 years old and extremely fragile. Watching her walk across the room causes grave concern, never mind knowing she was going through an angiogram/angioplasty. She came through everything extremely well, though, so the worry was thankfully all for naught.

Friday night, I went out with my redheaded sister and a few of her friends, to a bar in Sunset Beach. Let me just say that I was in a fine mood. I had a fun time. I chatted people up, I danced a little, I laughed quite a lot (especially at others. Let me just say that there were some extremely entertaining people at that bar and they were all unfathomably drunk by like 9:30pm!). Was I the crazy, fun-loving kid that I usually am? Well no; admittedly, I was not. But seriously? I was just acting like a normal person, having a fun night by normal person standards. I was just a bit tired and wrung out, having spent the day at the hospital thinking about, like, mortality and shit.

I say all of this because my sister kept nagging me the entire night about how I wasn’t having a good time. Then I got a text message at 2:30 am telling me that next time I didn’t want to come out, I should just not come.

You see, red-headed sister’s friends all love me and think I am hilarious (and who can blame them, really?). They always get all excited if I am going out with them, because in spite of how it reads on the pages of this blog, I actually don’t go out to bars all that often. It's a rare treat, is what I'm saying. So my sister was irritated because, although I was being perfectly normal, I wasn’t entertaining the masses as per my usual.

I have to admit that all of this left me a tad peeved. More than a tad, actually. I am not the hired entertainment, people. It’s not like I was sitting around with a frown on my face, not speaking. I am allowed to be relatively sedate on occasion. I am not your fucking trained monkey which you bring out to entertain guests. I am a human being and I have facets, god dammit!

Thanks. Happy to get that off my chest.

So on Saturday night, I blew off the steam I had stored on Friday. I got drunk.

But wait, let’s back up. First, I went to see Jared’s pieces in that art show.

I liked his pieces a lot – they are adorable. I was not, however and sorry to admit, impressed with anything else there. I did buy two very snazzy lunch boxes at a cool store next to the gallery, though.

So then my friend Liz, Dr. Niece, Dr. Niece’s out-of-town visitor and Banker Niece accompanied me to the Tam O’Shanter, at which we had a cocktail and an appetizer or two. After that cocktail, we moved on to the Cinema Bar.

And thus began my downward spiral.

Actually, it was loads of fun. I had a blast. I saw all of the last three songs by Dan Janisch, who I had no idea was playing there that night. Then of course Tony Gilkyson played, and he was very good. Loved them both, actually. I danced, I joked around, I drank one hell of a lot of Grey Goose. Oh and I may have told the owner of the Cinema Bar (Rod) that I like to be double-teamed.

Um…

Trust me, it was a bartending reference.

After the music died down, we moseyed out on to the patio where I talked extensively with Dan Janisch. For like an hour. Too bad I have no recollection whatsoever of what we discussed. However, I’m sure it was a highly intellectual and extremely amusing conversation. Oh I also apparently gave Dr. Niece and Joaquin Phoenix my seal of approval on their budding romance.

Yes, I am that embarrassing aunt.

Actually, she tells me I didn’t do or say anything which embarrassed her. I’m not sure that I fully believe her, but at least she’s trying to make me feel better.

I do like Joaquin. He seems like a good egg. He’s somebody I would be friends with, even if he didn’t want to get in to my niece’s pants.

Yesterday? Yesterday I woke up on Liz’s couch, talked to her for a couple of hours, drove through Carl’s Jr. on the way home to buy the old man a breakfast burrito and then sat around the house, writing and watching my old man nap the day away. I intended to nap myself, but I ended up writing all day instead. This was certainly the more productive option, but it has left me incredibly sleepy, still.

je ne regrette rien

Well hello there my peeps.

As you can see, the ol’ ikss is not dead, nor has she decided to forgo all things internetty and abandon her blog - at least not today. No, I have just been rather busy of late. Also, frankly, I really have nothing entertaining, amusing or bitch-worthy to write about. Or if I do, it’s not the sort of thing I really want to write about on a public blog.

I know, right? Who knew I had a filter?

Last weekend, I went to see my bro-in-law’s band play in Tustin. This was my first time going to see that band since The Halloween Incident, 2008. I actually had a great time. I danced so much my thighs were sore for the next two days. Two sisters, Dr. Niece and several of redheaded sister’s friends showed up, which was ample enough buffer between me and any ne’er do well types who may have been in attendance and eager to run me over with their pick-up trucks. I felt sufficiently safe, is my point. That’s always a good thing.

The band still sucks, but one can’t expect miracles, now can one?

On Saturday, my brunette sister hosted June’s Movie Club night. It was Dustin Hoffman night and we watched The Graduate and Little Big Man. I slept through half of LBM so I can’t really give it a fair review; but I don’t think it was the movie which put me to sleep. It was more likely the mere three hours of sleep I had the night before which was the cause. The Graduate was every bit as funny and great as I remembered it to be. I hadn’t seen it in some years, so I was happy to view it again. Oh and we had paninis. Love!

One last thing which happened this weekend? I dyed my hair. I am no longer a redhead, although some of the red remains (for now). I am now a brunette. It did not come out as dark as I wanted it and that shall be rectified the next time I have it dyed. I want my hair to be pert-near black.

I know – just in time for Summer!

Ah, me…I’ve always been a rebel.

I have also decided, after 40-plus years of living tattoo-free, that I am getting a tattoo in July. I almost hate to say it, let alone do it, because everybody and his brother has a tattoo nowadays. But here’s the thing – one of the many drawbacks to having somebody try to kill me last year is that I have been left with many scars on my body. I decided to turn one of those scars, which is on my right shoulder, into a tattoo. It is going to be a dreamcatcher, which has significance for me not just because I am obsessed with all things Native American but because I am also plagued with nightmares and night terrors (I know – I am seriously fucked up and a whole lotta fun to sleep with). Maybe having my own private dreamcatcher on my shoulder will take those things away and pass them on through to the other side.

I know, but it’s worth a shot, right?

The dreamcatcher is going to be surrounded by the words: Je Ne Regrette Rien. Yes, it’s a song, in French, made famous by Edith Piaf. More importantly, it means “I Regret Nothing”.

‘Nuff said.

mtv, mike stinson and my writing career - all colliding in a single weekend

So I actually watched the MTV Movie Awards last night…well, in truth, they were just on my television as background noise while I was writing. I did turn up the volume, though, when something came on which appeared to be interesting.

Eyah, so my volume stayed low a lot. I might not be the best person to give an actual critique of the show, as a result. I do, however (and of course) have a few thoughts.

Who was that host and why was he hired to do this show? Granted, I don’t usually watch award shows in general and have not watched one on MTV in like a decade, so maybe I’m even more out of things than I thought (I am tragically unhip, as we all know). But that dude was A) not funny and B) extremely obnoxious and annoying. And did I mention he was not funny?

Also, why was Robert Pattinson’s shirt buttoned incorrectly? As in, his buttons were not aligned with his holes…so to speak…I recently saw pictures of him leaving a hotel in Italy with his shirt like that, but I assumed he had just, you know, dressed in a hurry. Now he is appearing on awards shows like this? And what was with the visible, white undershirt? Is this some form of “in a rush after sex” look he is adopting to go along with his perpetual bed hair? Or *shudder to think* is this going to be yet another in a series of extremely unattractive and downright stupid trends in male fashion?

*sigh* Why do the boys so seemingly wish to make themselves as unattractive as possible anymore – what with the pants falling off and the hair in their face and now, apparently, the shirts buttoned in a most sloppy manner?

Well, at least pants which actually fit appear to be making a comeback. Praise Jehovah.

Kristen Stewart. Is she:

1. Always high?
   
2. Just too cool for school?
   
3. A complete imbecile?
   
   

sunday mornin' rituals

At present, I am sitting in bed, eating brie, crackers and strawberries and drinking champagne for breakfast.

Life is good.

road trip update

Some headlines relating to this past Memorial Weekend road trip…

 

A)    How many hours are there in a day, anyway?

B)    Junk food up the ying-yang and then some

C)    At one point, I knocked the (moving) car out of drive…with my left knee…

D)    45 miles per gallon!

E)     The Most Boring Graduation Ceremony In The History Of Humankind (and quite possibly the longest)

F)     Black Jack and Wheel of Fortune slot machines

G)    The Swimming Hole

H)    The Menstrual Gods

I)       Twenty degree change in twenty miles

J)       The Joys of Satellite Radio

K)    Packing Mishaps

L)     The Pact

M)   Me and My Urethra

 

Illumination forthcoming.

movie club

MOVIE CLUB* SUGGESTIONS (these are merely suggestions, because there are no rules):

1) There are no rules.
2) Club should aim to meet once/month, at alternating homes of club-members.
3) Two movies should be supplied/month by monthly host(s).
4) Movie choices are at the discretion and the sole choice of the monthly host; however, a few guidelines should be maintained:
- Movies should be rated PG13 or lower
- If rated R, rating should not be due to excessive violence (when in doubt, ask the Jehovah’s Witness)
- No Martial Arts films! If I can not show you all my Italian horror faves, you are not allowed to show me anything starring Chin Ka Look
5) Club Membership is open to the general public, so long as nominated members are not deemed to be complete dorks and/or just too un-cool to hang with. Those found to have incredibly bad taste in film will be slowly and methodically made to feel uncomfortable until they voluntarily leave the club.
6) We reserve the right to make other suggestions at any time.


So we had our first Movie Club meeting on Saturday night, at my place. We had about nine people over to the pad, along with The Old Man and I…of course, two of those people were under the age of two, but they still count. The films I chose for our first meeting were Mumford & Memento.

I also had lots of M&Ms in the house.

I chose these particular movies because I lurve them and, oddly, not many people I know have seen them. Mumford is one of those movies I have seen many times, will watch when it’s on and I am flipping through channels, am constantly telling people they need to see...and yet, most people have never even heard of it. I have not seen Memento as many times, but I do like it a lot and was shocked that it is also a movie which nobody but two others in The Club had ever seen.

What turnip truck did these people just fall off of, anyway?

(You may have noted that Memento actually breaks one of the Movie Club Suggestions, as it is rated R. However, it is not all that violent and the Jehovah’s Witness can tolerate a few F-Bombs being dropped.)

After I spent the day cleaning my house, it was a mucho fun night of movie-watching and kid-playing; but it was nice and almost sedate as compared to most of my get-togethers. Everybody stayed sober and was out of my pad before midnight and we didn’t scare the neighbors with the noise level this time. We ate pizza and enough junk food to send a normal woman in to sugar shock and of course, despite my best efforts to throw food at people as they walked out my door, I am now left with tons of said junk food at my house...at least, I am left with what I did not inhale yesterday while lounging around the house in delicious laziness.

Yesterday was grand. More grand than any day in recent memory. Why? Cuz all I did was lay around the house all day, reading...well and eating my weight in junk food, but it was really the lazy reading which made the day so monumental. The Old Man left the house mid-morning to go visit his kids and grandkids; I stayed home and read an entire book (Survivor by Chuck Palahniuk), read some other fiction online, napped and just generally relaxed in solitude.

Ah…

*Differs from Fight Club, in that we aim to avoid actual, physical violence unless absolutely necessary.

wake me up before the floor show

You can tell it’s Monday by the bags under my eyes.

On Saturday, my three sisters and Dr. Niece and I went on a walking tour in Angeleno Heights (a Los Angeles neighborhood rife with Victorian homes dating back to 1854). Karen’s Kwest*, back in action after a bit of a hiatus. Pictures pending. That lovely walk was followed up by an equally lovely lunch at Taix – a killer restaurant which also plays host to some of the best in local bands.

A lovely day was had by all. A nice, tame, grown up time. We shared many laughs, we talked about a variety of subjects, we listened to cool tunes on the car’s CD player. There are no people I would rather spend a day with (although I might add a person or two).

Then Dr. Niece said those four little words to me: “We should go out.”

*sigh*

Oh, we had a great time – don’t get me wrong. That’s the problem.

After three hours of sleep, I was asking The Old Man if it was really, truly important that I accompany him on his Sunday visits to see his new nephew and his grandkids…

Of course, it was.
1) I needed to see the kids. You know, because that’s the human thing to do.
B) I take far better pictures than does The Old Man.

But, boy howdy, was I exhausted. I did manage to get 8 hours of sleep last night (more if you count all the snoozing I did this morning after that first alarm went off), but in all honesty I am still tired. And tonight I have to am looking forward to driving up to Long Beach after work, for dinner with my friends Nancy & JoAnne. Tomorrow night, after work, I am going to attend another niece’s husband’s art show reception. That may or may not be followed by a skip over to the Redwood to see Mike Stinson and his bass player Joaquin Phoenix, depending on whether or not Dr. Niece can go.

And…when am I supposed to sleep, again? Not to mention – when am I supposed to go to the gym? Or see my boyfriend? Or go grocery shopping? Or clean my bathroom? Or sleep?



*Karen’s Kwest: To visit, explore and document via photographs parts of Los Angeles and its’ surroundings I have not yet seen and/or explored. I have lived in the suburbs of LA for four decades and yet there is much I have not seen.