Friday, February 27, 2009
Another round of applause goes out to my very own mother, for her and my father's efforts have gone far from being unnoticed!! The audition video that my mom and dad have been working so hard on has proved fruitful, for when it landed in the hands of t.v. show's "Can You Duet?" casting directors, it was unanimously decided they loved her look, personality and "Look But Don't Touch" image so much they decided to give her exclusive "wristband" access to the front of the long lines of other contestants. So needless to say, I've been gulping in the shared excitement of this new endeavor of my mother and father's. I'm just so very happy for them, and in such a way that words can not even begin to describe.
Other happy news is that Nicola Griffith's Memoir "And Now We Are Going To Have a Party" is now officially mine, dare I say it!! I had been resisting the compulsion to tear out the 3 scratch and sniff cards that are enclosed in said novel and indulge in the sniffing madness and frenzy, because I didn't want to become even more attached to the novel than I already was, in case I wasn't able to foot the cash to pay for the next reader in line to have a copy of their own. But alas, good ol' Snookms came through for me, and knew of my passion for this lovely memoir, so I now have him to thank when my nose is all bloodied in over-indulgence from sniffing the life out of Sandalwood, Geraniums, and The Pub. My favoritest scent is Sandalwood, and when I take a picture of this lurvely card to share with the group, you all will see why. :) I will also better explain why this book is a love of my life that I won't soon forget when I do post that precious picture. Karina you are so amazing for your selfless act of kindness!!! Thank you again for what could potentially initiate a convention of "Party With Your Box" Nicola fans, come to spread Ammonite love all acrossed the lands. :) We shall deepsearch one another, each with our own Ammonite necklace thronged around one another's necks in hymnal unison. I can't wait!!!! :DDDDD
Other little side goodies include my newfound love for Amanda fucking Palmer. I'm obsessed with Girl Anachronism currently. To a sick, sad and mortifying degree. But you just can't resist such a fevered beauty of crazed punk caberet!!
*photo credit given to WithThePearlLips on DeviantART*
I think, more than anything, it's the lyrics that resonate with me so well. It's like someone found a bottle of the essence that was once me, in some forsaken forest somewhere, and undid the cork, and the words just become me. I know AFP is "olde" news, but still though!!
One last thing, SexScenes@Starbucks (yet another favorite word, or rather slew of words to say) actually reminded me of it, with her own comment, in regard to the hailing of her little drummer boy and his victories, so I thought that this would be pretty fucking cool to share. The bitch just owns the world with a single point and nod of commanding attention, and a pair o' stix. Plain and simple. Make SURE you watch her bang out to Diecast's "Never Forget". 14 years of ruling the earth, with nothing but a pair of fucking sticks. I slurp the ground she walks upon. For shame!!
Thursday, February 26, 2009
My second oldest spawn came home with this from school yesterday. He is so proud of himself, and well he should be!!!
"The Turners Go to Los Angeles-2012"
On my trip to California, my family and I will go to Los Angeles. It will be harder than usual because we are going by car and the apocolypse is happening. I live in Indianapolis, Indiana. I'm taking Route 66 because it's history and it's the only road to California that isn't destroyed yet.
We saw a Guitar Hero Contest at Area 51. I beat an alien at Guitar Hero! We were in Arizona.
We were going to Los Angeles because it was the only safe place for an apocolypse. We finally made it to Los Angeles and we survived the Apocolypse. We decided to stay in Los Angeles.
So I just thought that was WAY cool. His 5th grade class has been working on short stories all week, and I had to brag about his cool story. How I long to beat a fucking alien at Guitar Hero, y'know???
Also. This place. Is so.....VERY COOL. I found it yesterday, while doing my usual weird stalk-like-a-professional typed internet habits, and fell in LOVE with the place immediately. It's one of those "Guerilla Optimism" typed operation thingies, which is something I've always dreamed of secretly launching by my own means. And the atmosphere of the place is like that of those heavenly shops you only dream of visiting. Kind've like, you always WISHED there was a place like this, but only your dreams allow you to go to places like this. Well, here it is, so what're ya waiting for??? Go!! I've already printed out some of the "cards" (if you scroll down the first few entries, you'll find em) that they suggest you can leave in miscellaneous places, like coffee shops, libraries, bulletin boards @ the grocery stores....whatever. I can't wait to drop them hitherto, like little bird droppings falling from the sky. :)
Here's one of em, which I heart like a motherfucker:
Also, if ye has time, you should check out PrettyFnMess, it's another blog that the blogger of Kind Over Matter is in connection with. VERY inspiring and adorable. And FUN!!
Let's see...what else?
Another lovely place to visit is Sync Chrome City Sensorium. It's an indulging of the senses. Very enigmatic, but also so very tantalizing. As the author of said blog puts it, "A catalogue of the senses". I go there everytime there's a new post, or just when I feel like I have a need to venture off to faraway places I've never been. Kinda like the Tasselhoff character from the Dragonlance novels, when he experiences the overwhelming feelings of Wanderlust. Such a groovy word. Say it aloud a few times. :)
I redid my Myspace profile the other night, which I'm rather proud of, cause it was looking pretty shitty for awhile there. The whole switchover to "Profile 2.0" had me thrown for a loop. I now have ever-so-lovely Lorde of Dremes gazing upon me whenever I want to boost my ego by going to my OWN Myspace instead of everyone elses.
I know y'all thinks Myspace = Ass suck, but for whatever reason, I still love it. I keep in touch with Mysty there, and still manage to find it amusing to ridicule everyone's absurd mood updates. I know. I'm pathetic. With a capital "P". But yep. I was gonna request Erica as a friend, I saw that she had a Myspace account, but then realized that she hasn't logged into her space since like, last September or something or another. So many people hate Myspace and Facebook. It's just funny hearing everyone talk about how much they hate stuff sometimes. I giggle.
Well, now, I thought I had much more meaningful junk to chatter on endlessly about, but I guess not. I s'pose I'll try to go rent "The Secret Life of Bees" offa my On Demand Box. Hopefully it'll let me this time.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
The chess master extraordinaire?? (Oh, how I adore that word!)
He's got a crush on Juno.
Not Ellen Page.
Pregnant, fluffy, Juno.
When it comes time to lay all the spawn down for the night, Snookms and I usually present them with option of picking something on t.v. to fall asleep to. They have to take turns each night, (unless it's the lurvely weekend, of course) otherwise they'd be up all fucking night if I let them ALL have a turn picking what they'd wanna watch. Unless it's something short, like Thomas the Tank Engine, or the Suite Life of Zack and Cootie, or Mythbusters.
But needless to say, Tha Jr.'s prime choice is Juno these days. He claims he doesn't have a crush on her, he just "likes" her. But that shit eating grin of his tells me otherwise.
Tha Jr. claims that he would MOST DELIGHTFULLY love to engage in a battle of chess with her. I can't help but wonder if he would feel the same after watching Hard Candy? Hmph!
Which brings me to other exciting news.
So like, I don't know how many of you know that Tha Jr. is Autistic, put there it is all plain & simple like, in case ya didn't know.
But yeah. He struggles like a mutherfucker with the nuances of this realm. It's hard for him to learn the language o' the world, to express himself in a universe of social order that ironically flips us the finger of fleeting chaos.
Teaching him even the most "simplest" of concepts (which, really, AREN'T that simple, if you think long, deep and hard enough about it) while homeschooling him were a real bitch and a half.
I would find myself crying in the bathroom, curled up into a ball on the floor, next to someone's ill-aimed piss some mornings, trying to fathom how I could help this amazing kiddo make his way in the universe.
I knew he wasn't dumb. I knew he wasn't uncapable. But I also didn't know he was Autistic at the time either. Knowing what I know now, I look back in retrospect and see why he didn't care to gain understanding of why one needed to memorize the ABC's and the 1,2,3's of life. I can accept why this dude needed to see things in pictures.
What I can't understand is why it took me so long to accept this about him, when I knew in my own heart that I needed to see the world in much of the same way he did in order to gain a better insight of what the fuck this world was all about.
But alas, that shall be another story for yet another day.
When the diagnosis of Autism finally came for us, Tha Jr. was already in the 3rd grade of homeschooling. By then we had already accepted his "intense interests" of vacuums, fire alarms and tornadoes as the "norm" for him. But what that diagnosis did, for me anyway, is strip away all the fear, all the doubt, all the footsteps I took in the dark of whether or not Snookms and I were doing the right thing for this kiddo.
It was HARD. Very fucking HARD, at first, to try to explain to others that Tha Jr. loved vacuuming more than he loved playing with Hot Wheels. It was painstaking misery to watch him struggle up the social ladder with other kids, where my other 2 spawn soared effortlessly.
But I had seen so much of myself in Tha Jr.
I knew of his need for the strange and wonderful. For his need to obsess over that which struck fear into his heart. He was terrified of tornadoes, of fire alarms, even of vacuums at a very early age. What seemed like an irrational fear of all things fuzzy (he was also terrified of animals for a very long time, even birds) was the "norm" in the Turner abode.
And to many, we looked like something from the Addams Family just because we embraced this difference in our son with pride.
Jumble all this chaos into the ball that is "Life", and you get parents that revel in the fact that their son only learned how to play chess not 3 months ago, but despite that, can hand the principal of Tha Jr.s' school his ass on a platter of Forfeit.
Last Friday, the Jr. was in a 2 day chess tournament at school, and whooped everyone's ass unashamedly.
Until it came to his great and worthy opponent.
I knew most of the other kids Tha Jr. went up against. Even though I wasn't there for the event, I was told he went up against honor roll students, and other such chess masters, that have been playing since the day they could talk.
It was brought to my attention that he put ALL of their asses in checkmate. Several of them were put down by his infamous 4 move checkmate.
Even though he didn't take first place, he managed to beat the very feller that beat him in the tournament the weekend after. This is the same kiddo that has the only record of beating the principal.
And then Mike beat the principal's pants offa him the next day.
Although this kid has it rough in the world, the way most folks breeze by with ease? Well, y'know, he's got THIS going for him.
And so many other things.
But I revel in this for now.
Nevermind the fact that he spends his allowance on cleaning supplies. The latest Swiffer Mop Model gives him the same joy that a typical kid would derive from the latest in Mattel and Hasbro. He's just awesome like that. And when he gets paid in Starburst every Friday, for helping the janitor clean the cafeteria, we all know that wasn't what the real paycheck was for him.
Adrian Monk ain't got shit on Tha Jr.
Monday, February 23, 2009
But honestly? I think out of all the YA novels I've read, that Erica's took the cake. Even up against Phoebe Stone's "Deep Down Popular". And I didn't think anyone out there had the ability to touch me in that "YA" sort of way that Phoebe Stone's book did. But alas, Erica came out the victor.
Let me just share the email I sent her in regards to the book, it kinda sums up what I felt:
(I hope you don't mind Erica.)
Let me just say....
That in the very long line and lists of endless questions I have to ask you, and don't ever know that there will EVAR be enough space and time to ask all the bazillion and one questions I have for you, that this one question takes precedence above all others....
WHERE. HAVE YOU. BEEN. ALL. MY. LIFE?
Oh my GOD. I started reading that book like around 11 o'clock in the afternoon, and didn't put it down until 8 at night, and realized that I was done reading it. I probably would have finished a hell of a lot sooner, had I not spawn to pick up from Spawn Academy, dinner to cook, and other such little motherly nuances to attend to that only other mothers know and understand.
But MY GOD Erica! That was a damn good book. I loved every inch of that book. (No pun intended, or was it?) :D
But for serious. I loved, loved, LOVED how you intro'd each chapter with a song title, and I swear, I think I knew every song you mentioned there. And I about exploded with joy when I saw the Napalm Death title. And your mention of N.W.A.? and Black Hole Sun, and ohhhhh, there are just TOO MANY things.
You made me cry too. Not one of those "teary-eyed" moments either. One of those, deep down, "Soul-Crushing-The-Earth" typed deals, that I'm still recovering from today.
I'll have to say though. My most FAVORITEST part? Was the end...
"The hardest thing to learn in life is that there may be no truth--not really. Not in black and white.The truth changes for each person who tells it."
I am now fully convinced that I need to give you exclusive access to my Fartsmeller Memoir. I feel like I need you to read it!! There is just toooooooooooo much magical connection here between you and I. To the creepiest extent. And I LUUUURVE creepy.
It's going to take a few days to create the perfect blog post for telling all about this book. I wanna give it everything it deserves.
Sincerely, Realm (Rachel)
And that was it.
The musical appreciation in this book gave me the chills. With intros to each chapter donning song titles such as:
~"Rock and Roll Lifestyle" -Cake
~"Crimes of Paris" -Elvis Costello
~"Climbing up the Walls" -Radiohead
~"A Question of Lust" -Depeche Mode
~"Starfuckers, Inc." -Ninch Inch Nails
~"More Than Meets the Eye" -Napalm Death (this one had me smiling all Cheshire like!)
(along with a PLETHORA of other musical gems!) I just couldn't wait to see which song was going to be lined up for the next chapter!
I know you would absolutely love to read it Katie.
But anyway. It's just grand like that. The book touches on so many bases, and still caters to that lost, lack-lustered, and very self-conscious adolescent in us all, portraying all those little nuances of inside observation that only YOU think you are capable of making. And then you read a book like this and are all about the "Oh my GOD!!! She knows!! Little miss author really does know!"
Liv is the main character, a young and vibrant teen, with sort of a more pessimistic, or rather, realistic way of looking at life. With the "rock star life" her once druggy-but-now-gone-sober father has afforded her to chalk up as great experience, but with an ironic twist, you come of it with the realization that Liv is so allergic to that "rock star" way of living that we all think we want, but yet, she would've traded for a "normal" life in a heartbeat.
Till you get to the nitty gritty of it all. She winds up going on tour with her dad's band, in order to interview them for her new position as journalist on infamous music magazine "Rock On". Not only does she find the "truth" about the mysterious love triangle that is her father, mother and another member of her dad's band, but also. she finds love, when she least expected it.
So, for me, it came down to listening to other people's stories. Taking time to hear both sides of a situation. To be in a middle grounds of sorts about other's perspectives inasmuch as you can.
Again, like Erica so elegantly puts it: "The hardest part about life is that there may be no truth. Not really. Not in black and white".
Cause like, who are we to judge anyone's character flaws, right?
So up my alley.
I want to see a movie production in the hands of the Hollwood Gods. Soon.
Friday, February 20, 2009
Thursday, February 19, 2009
I had to take a break from Nicola's Ammonite novel today cause I just couldn't resist waiting another day to start reading "Rock My World". Initially I had thought I would be done reading Ammonite by now, but I'm only a little more than halfway through. Really such a lovely, LOVELY novel, but again, I couldn't resist NOT reading "Rock My World".
I was going to wait until I was done with Ammonite and then read Rock My World, but already I'm on page 22 and totally loooooooooove the book. I love all the pop culture references. And the young adult POV. Lots of unapologetic cursing and talking about sex too, which I heart. :)
I find myself drawn to these kinds of books, always have, even when I was too young to even be reading them, but, alas, there I would be, hiding under my bed covers, laying on my belly, novel in one hand, flashlight in the other, reading about Deenie's next masturbatory experience in the illuminated dark of my Fairfield, CA hailing bedroom.
I guess there is this part of me, the little girl I pushed away for so long, perhaps, that needs to know if it all adds up in the end. If everything went according to plan, like I always thought and hoped for. More often than not, it never was the case, and getting the "less than ideal" perspective that these books provided proved a sort of "refuge" for the feelings of loss that I couldn't quite understand at such a young age. I had felt so alone and like such an outcast for so long and these books somehow spoke a language to me so few others had the ability to speak.
I live for books like this. Thanks so much again Erica, and I promise to give it a proper review once I'm done reading it, if one can dare to call what I might possibly deem "proper" so!
New Burn Notice episode tonight!! Mustn't forget! It's me and Snookms newest shared passion in life, aside from blowing holes in our siding via potato cannons and sharing heated conversation over a Grande half-caff, with a splash o' whole milk.
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Everytime I finally get a chance to sit and relax for the day, this fucking commercial comes on. And it pisses me off.
Here's an 'ode to Kelly and her Electrolux fabrications:
(I don't have a name for this bullwhackee)
When the towels are all folded,
and the linens all tucked
The cat has been fed,
and hubby's dick has been sucked
We can waver away all the bills to be paid,
a magic wand in one hand and a can o' Glade
The asses are wiped and all knick-knacks've been dusted,
no door hinge dare squeaking, nor single window is busted
The chicken stir-fry has been wokked with cheer,
and the hubby is laden on the couch with said beer
My ass is in a straight-jacket for all to come see,
as the thorazine drips and I smile faintly with glee
For we ALL know that SUPERMOM is here to stay!!!
Come hell or high water to save the day.....
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Her name is Kelley Eskridge. She is founder of Humans at Work, and it is an opportunity of a lifetime for those whom want to further their knowledge in the way of management. A sort of training bit, if you will, of what one should be equipped with in the way of relating when managing others. Frankly, I think it should be something that anybody should check out, whether of manager status or not, just because it offers up so much in the way of showing what a human being should want to possess if they want to find the key to maintaining good and healthy relationships with others. It's all about communication, treating others as your equal, and so many other beautiful qualities that one should want to possess in the way of social interactions. If you have time, you can check out "A Leader's Manifesto", an 8 page document of very resourceful information, which I promise, will not be a waste of your time. Kelley herself wrote it. It reads very easy and you come out if it feeling as though you've been somehow embued with the power to change a woman/man's stars.
Kelley is also author of Solitaire, (a finalist for the Nebula, Spectrum and Endeavour awards!!) and novella Dangerous Space, which I am hoping to read very soon, as I've heard nothing but good, good, good about. *Feel free to clink on the link to both Solitaire and Dangerous Space to find out more about these!!*
Currently Kelley is working on making Solitaire into a film adaptation, in which she is handling screenplay revisions, and I am very excited for her about it!!
Kelley was also a vice president of Wizards of the Coast which gives me the gigglies, cause Wizards of the Coast was somewhat of a "household name" for me growing up!!! :)
(For those of you that don't know, Wizards of the Coasts is a publisher of trading card and role-playing games such as Magic, Dungeons and Dragons, and Pokemon.)
So there you have Kelley Eskridge. Feel free to pop by her blog and have a look around!! She is very fun, conversational, and insightful. :)
Monday, February 16, 2009
Also, Snookms got his license back yesterday, so I was pretty busy.
But some SUPER fun came out of it, which I will talk about in a minute, but first I wanted to say how excited for my mom and dad I am.
My schexy momma is going to be auditioning for the tv show "Can You Duet" in March down in Nashville Tennesee, and I have only the best of hopes and wishes for her, as I am one of her hugest fans. I won't say THEE hugest, cause I know there's a plethora of folk out there that just absolutely melt in her presence whenever she graces others the opportunity of hearing her beautiful voice, but know this all!!! I was one of the first to hear her sing "Blue Bayou" and "Missing You" and became instantaneously obsessed at the first sound of her beautiful inflection.
So like, YAY for my mom, and dad, cause they were also handpicked from some audition guy to go up ahead of everybody just because they thought my mom was a purrrrrrr-fect fit for the show. And my dad is supporting her 100% behind all this. Heck, he's the one that engineered all the beautiful music, and took the awesome pictures of her. I'm so happy for the both of them, and wish them both only the best in all their endeavors.
My dad is currently in the process of tweeking the audition video my mom sang in, and it looks very professional, also he took some new pictures of my mom, which have come out looking stunningly amazing, and sometimes I have to pinch myself to make sure I'm not dreaming that I have such awesome parents.
It's kinda funny when yer a kid. You walk around with this delusion that your parents are either:
1.) perpetual assholes, or 2.) unashamedly geekfaced.
But then when you get older, and come to the realization that they were WAY THE FUCK COOLER than you could ever dreamed to be, you sort of shrivel up inside yourself, the way Snookms' dick does when it gets cold in the shower or when it's time to do dishes or laundry.
It's just.....funny, I guess.
My parents rock, and I suck.
But perhaps, by their own definition of awesomeness, they might grant me the chance to touch the hem of their garment, so that I too may have a small taste of the awesomeness aura that surrounds them one day. Who knows????
=One big ball o' cool.
And then of course, I have to blabber away about Friday the 13th, and how much fucking fun I had with Mysty.
It was unexpected fun too, which is the best kind of fun, cause initially I thought I wasn't even going to be able to hang out with her at all, cause I had to run Snookms around town to get his license back (and a job interview too), which was okay, but I really wanted to see Mysty too.
Somehow though, everything managed to fall into just the right places so that Mysty and I could hang, and it was probably one of the funnest days I've had in such a very long time. :)
She was dressed gorgeously in her knee high come-and-fuck-me boots, with her hot pink leggings that have become one of my FAVS.
We went to Metropolis, our fave hang out, where we stalked our secret haunted house admirer at Hot Topic, and Mysty bought these adorable babies that I can't wait to see her up close and personal in......
And then she took a picture of my yuck butt:
*In case of eye injury, douse with water immediately, then burn. If condition does not improve, seek medical attention immediately*
Here's my fav of the little skirt chaser and I:
I just can't resist NOT putting this one out there for the public eye, AGAIN, but this time the picture's not cut off!! :D
But of course, here's my dollface. Oh how I love her precious honey coloured mane.
I had such a lovely time with her. We went to Starbucks and drank coffee, smoked and giggled at people who think we're weird. It was the stuff my dreams are made of.
Monday, February 9, 2009
I come in earnest, replying, in jest mind you, "So this Brigande, right? He comes to the pub with a griffon pup under one arm, and a 2 foot summer sausage under the other and...."
"Shhhh", he motions with his annoying fucking finger. That clawed fucking finger, that most nights I want to cram down my cunt in jurassic porn fashion, is a fathom for the angered arts tonight. I pray to the Usurped I shall break it in two and cram it down his rightened hairy arse.
Does he care in this though? A question I threatened to ask of oneself every waking moment. I find myself more awake and aware than ever.
I feel unloined. As though the cloth of AdamEve has been reduced to leafless nothingness. I second guess my every step, taking care to smell my own funk at every falter. Does he see me for the shit I am, for the own shit I smell upon myself?
The 13th of Friday is nearly upon us. I feel it's waverly black length heavy upon my back. Thick like udon pastries, it weighs me down, while it's slick sludge slithers down my arms like Wil Wheaton dick leeches. I look forward to it's coming, yet dread it in some strange way that even I, Lorde of Dremes, cannot manage to explain. Mayhaps in another plane....
Father is heavy on my thoughts as well. His golden beard thrusts heavily upon my chest, and I want nothing more than to push his head in the dirt, along with the rest of his obnoxious prowess. His crown has been barren long enough. Take it back to the patty broiling factory it wence came from, I say! Badge the fuckers. Every last morsel of em. Even their sons carried the virus to a certain extent. Fuck em all I say. Though in the end I always say Nay.
But not today.
So back to "Shhhh". I hate "Shhh". More than I hate mayonnaise. More than I hate onions. More than I hate the taste of scrotum musk ripenening beneath a minotaur's ballsack. It irks that lay child within, the one that's always been shushed, and backwashed eternally to sit idly dodging asteroids on Megolomania. Mind you, the same that was damned eternally to defeat Dr. Wily, and search for the Hudson Soft Bee, on ALL those ridiculously endless quests of lore. And while Legacy of the Wizard and A Boy with his technicolour Jellybeans was great fun, still though, it was endless. It was a mess.
More and more with the "shh", I am shushed to the Nether-world, and yet he questions my whereabouts, as if they somehow matter to him these days? Wherefore, and how then, I ask? Fuck.I have good mind to take these brigands wings else ware. Take flight to the northo-netho-regions, FarandWide, where the eyes are wide shut. At least there they believe in sharing the goods. Spreading the wealth. Here one seems just to horde it, as with the great lizard from There and Back Again. It goes nowhere but rotts under the feet of it's underbelly, never coming to frution. Nope. No prosperity there folks.
Is that what I'm destined to? Rot. And Decay. And Oprah like weight gain? I refuse to indulge in Montel Williams and Tyra Banks. I admonish you, I REFUSE!!
I will take my ability of flight to the palace of norther, where the Great Queen layeth her eggs. She promises redemption, yet at a price. A price I had been so unwilling to pay for far too long. But yet, Yesteryear is upon us, and look what the sun has to shine upon thee? A battered ego. Footsteps in the dark. And hemmoroids. Fuck hemmoroids.
I want my lithe body back. I want to be able to soar like the Dragonfly. Not bumble like the Bee. I want to take flight upon the freedom of my own Winged Warfare, and make for myself a killing of one's own proportion. I want to do battle with YellowJackets and BlackBirds, and stand in the corner, licking my OWN god-damned wounds.
And when I heal and am ready to resume battle, I will make you hoist yourself upon the flat of my steele, steadfast upon the emminency of your wicked death. You shall whisper your name slightly upon my ears, and I will utter with finality, "Good Game old chap", as the sword of your backside slides heavily into my ribcage.
With that, my horned/winged helm will fall with reprise, and in mid-flight, roll eternally to find it's place in Hell's Shire along with the noble steed I've ridden bareback, flashing it's scale-ish greens and purple-golds, breathing flame and pissing razor blades into the Nigh'.
Sunday, February 8, 2009
Saturday, February 7, 2009
Fer starters, Nicola Griffith's Memoir "And Now We Are Going To Have A Party" is now in my possession for the time being, and I have Karina of SheTranslates.Com to thank for it, as she is the one who initiated the kind gesture in the first place. Karina is a member of the Ozymandias Google Group as well, and while in the midst of members throwing out ideas and themes and mission statements and what not, Karina offered to order a copy of Nicola's "And Now We Are Going To Have A Party" Memoir to any who were interested in reading it, and HELL YES I was interested, so I jumped on the offer, which to me, is one of those "once in a lifetime" opportunity typed thingamahoozits, because how often is some complete stranger going to offer to buy you a $50.00 piece of art, AND have it shipped to your house? And all I have to do is promise to pay for shipping to the next willing recipient? Not often enough, I'll tell you THAT!! Karina is MUY awesome!!
It's funny though, but now that Nicola's Memoir is in my grasp, I don't want to let it go. I fell in love with it the instant I saw the link for it on Payseur & Schmidt, and now that it's tangible, and actually within my grasp? I'm like Gollum with the One Ring, and I don't want to let it go. It is indeed my Precious. I'm thinking of quite possibly keeping this copy, and just doing what Karina did for me in regards to whoever is next in line. And then of course repaying Karina for her awesome gesture. But I dunno. I'll have to see what muh cash flow looks like by next Friday. I'm really hoping that this is the case, as I don't see myself parting with this lightly. There will be much weeping and gnashing of teeth. Oh yes.
Nicola's Memoir comes in five volumes. It also comes with a cd of her early band Janes Plane, which I love, (reminds me of old Cure) and an autographed baby picture of Nicola, and 3 lovely lovely lovely scratch and sniff cards, which you will totally keep scratching and sniffing and appreciating the hell out of, and giggling too, cause there's little prefaces for each scent that make you giggle in that way that only Nicola has the ability to do. I twittered Nicola last night, to let her know that I had just begun reading "Limb of Satan", volume 1 of the memoir, and she sent me a twitter back with a link to her "read-aloud" of it, which I have watched many a time over in utter adoration. (You have only to scroll down to the first 2 videos, and WATCH EM!! You'll be HOOKED!! I promise!!) Nicola is such a wonderful storyteller, and she connects with her admirers, her fans, her audience, the ones who appreciate her, so wonderfully. She doesn't have this bullshit heir of "Hey everybody. I'm famous now. I'm better than you. I shouldn't be stooping to your level to talk to you."
And that? Right there? That's what builds a loyal fanbase. That's what real admiration should be all about. Not this untouchable, invincible entity of a mess that contradicts everything that one SHOULD be standing for. And this enthralls me. I love it. It's the stuff my dreams are made of. Sort of like this whole, "Reach for the stars" momentum, 'cept, you have only to "look up" and there they are. They're not out of reach, they're not unnattainable. You have only to reach up and there one will be, to rightly pluck out of the infinite sky, and then to be in the palm of your hand, shimmering fantastically for all to bear witness to.
I dunno. Perhaps I'm just too giddy with Saturday Morning Delight.
Yet another reason I'm also totally jazzed is because Snookms and I are taking the kiddos to see Coraline in 3-D tonight, and I can't friggin wait, as I've been waiting FOREVER to see this flick, and it's soooooooo up my alley in every way deemed possible. I follow Neil Gaiman on Twitter, and all he fucking does is talk about all the interviews and the premieres and the Red Carpet in Oregon, and while it's COMPLETELY understandable that he is Twittering all this in the first place, it's driving me mad, mad, MAD with envy and jealousy. I'm starting to develop one of those strange manic depressive bi-polar delusions that many are known for developing? Like, maybe that I know Neil in real life, that we have a secret mind reading relationship, and that he secretly wants to write stories all about me and my life sized teddy bear Footprint, and that in the end he is going to reveal that Sandman is a girl. And that indeed, I AM MORPHEOUS, KING OF DREMES. Oh yes. Everyone should want to bow now, before I get way too infamous to even be in your presence in the first place.
*See now, therein I contradict myself, and it just goes to show you that I should indeed, NOT be famous, nor adored. I should want to squash you all like the bugs and vermin that you are, with my trail of infinite wisdom and notoriety, leaving behind me a glimmer of Silver Stardust for you all to hover about and lap up like rabid hyenas.*
This is really strange, cause I've not even had my morning coffee yet, and already I'm blathering away like a raving lunatic. Must be the "Rock My World" jigglies too. I can't wait to have that in my greasy paws!! Demon Baby rocks my world!!
I'm so happy I could poop a rainbow!!
Thursday, February 5, 2009
Author Erica Orloff is sending MOI a copy of her book, "Rock My World: A Novel of Thongs, Spandex, and Love in G Minor".
*click on above link for more book info *
I won it simply by entering her "contest" of sorts, hosted by lovely Demon Baby, and I was Of The Chosen. There was one other winner as well, and when Erica announced the winners this morning, I was erratically overjoyed, as I've been secretly longing to have one of her books in my hands ever since I've had the pleasure of happening acrossed her blog. She is one of the most intriguing beings on this universe that I've met in a while. (Aside from Mysty, Kat, Sex, and Nicola!) I truly look forward to both receiving this book and reading it, and talking it the hell up afterwards.
And another big plus, I now have Erica's email address, so I can add her to my list of people to stalk and harrass via email. WOOT!! :D
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
Dangit!! The pictures' so dang big that it cuts off some of it. Mysty's holding up the Wicked Witch of the West Post Its I bought her, and on the top one it says "I love Rachel". And it shows off Mysty's awesomely awesome fingernail polish. (Also ala the Wicked Witch of the Westside fashion.)
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Okay. So this has been long overdue. I'm kinda behind schedule in the way of "introducing" the talent on board Ozymandias, as I promised in my previous post. I had intended on initiating introductions last week, but my kids have all taken consecutive turns being sick, sick, SICK!!! And then of course I got sick, so it's been one hell of a week!! Or 2 weeks, I should say....
By Nicola Griffith
I just finished reading that 514 page novel, and to say that I am blown away by Nicola's talent is an understatement.
First, let me just start by saying that given the current economic crisis, times have been financially backbreaking in our household. 4 weeks ago, when I walked into Barnes & Noble to order Always and Ammonite, (both by Nicola), that I was under the impression that Snookms and I were okay financially. A week later our lives were literally turned upside down, and while I was okay with that (aside from the drama queen antics I pulled these last few posts) I was utterly miserable at the thought of possibly having to let ol' B&N ship back my book orders had I not the cash to foot for these 2 novels. Weeks went by with no prospect of our financial prospect getting any "better". Electricity was due to shut off, as well as water.
And then the snow storm hit. 12 inches of beauty stacked up at my doorstep. And while this may be a bitch for many, this meant financial "yays" all around the household fer us Turnerfolk. Snookms got called out to shovel the lovely white mess, for 24 hours straight even!! And while Panda Express never got back with neither Snookms or me, (as well as Target, and Starbucks, and all the other billion and 1 places we had applied at!) we were able to struggle up our financial hill to a place that wasn't of ruin. But not before I could unbury my little 2001 Kia Rio out of the 12 inch chaos.
But I was hell bent on a mission, you see. It was the 28th, and B&N was threatening to ship Always back to where it hailed from the very next day if I didn't make it up there by the 29th. So like, all the fucking odds were against me, from an already exhausted husband whom I wouldn't of expected to help me dig our car out, to 3 kids taking turns hacking up lungs, to my own lung being hacked out, to me having to scrape up $15.00 in change so Always could once and for all be in my grasp.
And let me tell you right now, folks.
It was worth every, fucking, cent. And every pound of snow shoveled, and every gulp of icky Robitussin, and all that other hullaballoo.
Now I'll get on to the good schtuff....
Oh. My. GAWD.
That's all I kept saying while reading this book. And I couldn't help but continually picture Nicola as Aud, the whole god-damned time, so my obsession level both with Aud and Nicola increased dramatically with this read.
Aud is a self defense teacher. Aud has come to Seattle from Atlanta to take care of much business. Aud has demons in her closet. Fuck skeletons. The kind of demons that make one truly shiver and want to curl up in a ball and cry for mommy. And the "beauty" (if one can dare to refer to it as such) of this book is that they aren't even fully revealed. There are fragments and patches here and there that come to present themselves, but it's good in the kind of way that makes you hungry for more.
And Nicola shows, shows just how important it is for women to embrace their womanhood, to be proud of it, to be unapologetic, but in the classiest of ways. In a way that would make the truest and noblest of men bow down to her in humility and loyalty.
It's not all about manhate. It's not all about disregarding femininity. It's about coming to terms with oneself, identifying who you are, finding out what works, repairing what doesn't, and going back out there and giving it your all.
Nicola speaks of places you've never been, and makes you long to be there, in the moment, eating of her exotic foods that she so astutely describes via taste, touch, and smell. You want to be basking under the same sun she once spoke of as a child, lying beneath the Norweigean rays of light.
You want to take Kick into your hands as Aud does, and finesse her sand coloured mane, and brush your lips acrossed hers as Aud does, simply stating "Bed" as a means for her legs to continually be wrapped around your midriff in utter midnight delight, be it man, woman or Minotaur.
And if that weren't enough, there's always THIS folks. There's always THIS:
"When an ovulating woman offers herself to you, she's the choicest morsel on the planet. Her nipples are already sharp, her labia already swollen, her spine already undulating. Her skin is damp and she pants. If you touch the center of her forehead with your thumb she isn't thinking about her head--she isn't thinking at all, she's imagining, believing , willing your hand to lift and turn and curve, cup the back of her head. She's living in a reality where the hand will have no choice but to slide down that soft, flexing muscle valley of the spine to the flare of strong hips, where the other hand joins the first to hold both hip bones, immobilize them against the side of the counter, so that you can touch the base of her throat gently with your lips and she will wimper and writhe and let the muscles in her legs go, but she wont' fall, because you have her.
She'll be feeling this as though it's already happening, knowing absolutely that it will, because every cell is alive and crying out, Fill me, love me, cherish me , be tender, but oh God, be sure. She wants you to want her. And when her pupils expand like that, as though you have dropped black ink into a saucer of cool blue water, and her head tips just a little, as though she's gone blind or has had a terrible shock or maybe just too much to drink, to her she is crying in a great voice, Fuck me, right here, right now against the kitchen counter, because I want you wrist-deep inside me. I hunger, I burn, I need.
It doesn't matter if you are tired, or unsure, if your stomach is hard with dread at not being forgiven. If you allow yourself one moment's distraction--a microsecond's break in eye contact, a slight shift in weight--she knows, and that knowledge is a punch in the gut."
And so there are many fleeting moments like this in the book, coupled with many moments of definitive clarity, no matter what gender you are, that get you thinking, feeling, knowing, and suddenly caring about how very important it is to take good care of yourself, and to then arm those around oneself with this same notion as well.
If Nicola's work isn't getting the exposure it deserves, well, it should be. I don't see why this book isn't found on the shelves of Target and Walmart. They've got Augusten Burroughs up there. And David Sedaris.
Nicola's turn is next.
And if you're wondering about the title of this post, go read the book, and you will understand the beauty of that Orwellian quote, profoundly.
Now I am off to read Ammonite. Thank God for getting paid to shovel driveways. I'll let you all know how it goes. :)