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Former Blogs Archive 2006

6/22/12 – Update – some months and/or posts may be lost, however, updates will be made should any be found. As of today – the 2006 archives are complete. Thank you for putting your eyes here.

The archive posts from February 2006 are right here (no clicking necessary – just keep reading):

Proof Positive – Conditioning is harmful

Friday, February 24, 2006, 11:32:00 AM

…the smallest thing can make a sting…

Good morning! It makes me nuts to read my previous blogs and find mistakes. Ah well, what’s done is done.

Some people have speculated through the course of my life as to my potential. Some people think that my IQ should indicate what I do for a living. Well, I don’t want to be a rocket scientist, so go jump in a lake, to put it mildly. I could be more upfront about it; like I was when I was younger, and say “Fuck Off.” Oh, but that would be vulgar right? Well, guess what, I’m vulgar too. To all the “adults” who tried in vein to reign me into some contrived picture of what they all thought I should be – you have failed. You have not only failed, but it did it miserabley no less. That’s right, I skipped school and you expelled me. But I still graduated on time in the top fifth of my class didn’t I. I have multiple college degrees. You didn’t see that one did you? Why did you think was I so hard to control? Why did I do poorly in mathematics? To be blunt yet once again – I was bored out of my ever-loving skull! All the media in the world has not even come close to convincing me that I should look a certain way or act a certain way, because it is proper or that’s what everyone does and expects. Screw you! If the way I look offends you, overt your eyes. If you think I should act a certain way and you find my Mianess unacceptable to you, ignore me – walk away. I do not need approval to exist. I’m already here.

My previous rant leads up to the plain and simple fact that I have accomplished many of the goals I have mentioned over the five years I’ve been “blogging.” First, I worked for an environmental organization funded by the federal government for long enough to get the inside scoop. I know what’s up now and I know it because I learned it on the inside. I armed myself with enough to be confident in prodding my current employer to “GO GREEN.” As of the beginning of this year, all of the architects I work with are studying to become LEED certified, which means that they will be certified to design “Green Buildings.” Our goal is to work with “Green” focused contractors. I also demonstrated that telecommuting (a.k.a. Green Commuting) is quite possible nowadays. Three days a week, I don’t use gas to get to my job. I wake up and turn on my computer. Three days a week I communicate with clients, staff, vendors and contractors via e-mail. No faxing or mailing is necessary, hence, I do not use a lot paper. I use both sides of the paper if I need to print something to view in hard copy. When I do go into the office to handle the IT portion of my job, I am right next to the water. This makes me happy. I am also right next door to an outdoor concert pavillion. I can chime in on the musical magic any time I want in the warmer season. There is nothing that truly is impossible if one is patient enough to just keep trying. The other purely selfish grand advantage to telecommuting is this – if I get the creative itch in the middle of the day and I feel the need to pick up my guitar and work something out – I can – right in the middle of a work day. This way, I releive myself of the pure agony of having some sort of inspiration in the middle of an office and having no means of expressing it other than hoping the inspiration lasts long enough for me to right it down or grab my guitar. I work several more hours when I telecommute than when I am in the office. My productivity has increased, not decreased.

For all employers out there – have you tried letting an employee or two (or more) telecommute? Sometimes, you can save money and decrease the impact you make on the environment by making just a few adjustments to your concept of “work force.” Ask Peter Fillat Architects. Peter is a pain in my back-end more often than not, because he’s much more of a creative entity than he is a business entity, but he’s progressive enough to know that I can do everything he needs, even if he does not physically see me in the office.

I’ll end today with this – if an Arab faction ends up running the Port of Baltimore (that’s the water at work I keep typing about), I don’t suppose there is much that I can do about it. All I want to convey is my wish that all parties involved like life enough to be careful. That would be nice. Might be too much to ask, yet I will remain hopeful until proof reveals itself otherwise. Oh and the other thing, I did not vote for our current President, so I can sound off as much as I like. America was founded on those who “voice off.”

Merry Musical Weekend to you all.

Communication Error DS/2635ip129.879.354.333

Saturday, February 18, 2006, 7:05:00 PM

…hocus pocus, everything’s in focus!”…

So my last blog entry had rather large spaces between each paragraph. That happens when I type the blog in Word and then Ctrl+C and Ctrl + V (cut and paste) into this blog interface. So today, I’m doing it straight from the interface. I need to get the archives from year-long blog stint known previously as musicheadcentral. I housed it here at Blog-City because I did some research and discovered this place fits me. Prior to that, I did this on another interface. And, prior to that, all the blog entries came and went and were never save- however, I called them “Almost Daily Rminations,” and they were featured for 2 years on my website called “opentheboxandlaugh.com”.

Tim Burton and Danny Elfman work very well together. I think any way. Also, I noticed that Billy Graham, the Reverend that is, is starting to look like the old man in the Poltergeist movie who appears sometimes and sings “God is in, his holy temple”….  I’m feeling a little cold and lonely. Most of my musical instruments have been let go. I have specific needs and tastes. I know what they are, so that’s my next step. My acoustic guitar are hanging out together at the moment. We only have each other at the moment. The next guitar I buy will be a nylon-string acoustic guitar of some type.

There’s plenty to type about, but I’ve got company, so I don’t want to be rude.

“Send out the signals, wipe out the noise.” Peter Gabriel

I Have No Off Button

Sunday, February 12, 2006, 2:38:00 PM

The extent in my belief in the paths that I take, is such that there is no torture to be conceived  of by those who may torture me, that could permanently break my resolve to continue on the paths that are clearly marked for me. How would it be possible for me to take the paths of others entirely, when I can clearly see that deviations from paths have either my name or someone else’s name marked upon them. I follow signs. I follow them on the highways. I follow them on doors. I follow them figuratively. I follow them literally. Along the way, the path gets ugly with sweat and blood. The screams of pulling despair echo hard against the way one travels sometimes. The dripping hate and fear lurk just beyond the next turn, ready to stalk you like the prey of carnivorous animals. Uncertainty  begins to condense into a think, murky fog; hiding the direction of your path. Shattering anguish will work miracles on gravity to hold you down where you cannot see your path, and sometimes, you see nothing at all. Just take a step. That’s what I do. I believe in my path and I will suffer for it. I know pain before it evens comes. The culmination of every last drop of miserable suffering from all those who have ever come to know such things, from the history if time until now, could be poured into me as a deterrent, but I know my next step is there. All I have to do is take it. No matter what  mind-altering, bone-shattering pain I may endure, there will always be sweet moments of glorious confirmation that summon the means for you to keep walking even if you don’t see the next step. It’s those glimpses at all the wonders taken for granted, that. My path is my path. It brings what it brings. I learn. I take the next step.

Having typed all that, I will now explain why. The extent to which I believe in music, not only as a universal mode of communication, but also as an excellent non-culture dependent teaching device, is and will always be, non-negotiable. Plus, music is  entertaining and thought provoking. Fun for the whole world. Now, throw some hope in there and I’ve now helped to shine a light on someone else’s path marker. That person is then able to take the next step. That person has then just taken a step with no visible confirmation of ground below your feet. All I need to do is turn on one light for a lost traveler looking for the next step, and I’ve suffered wisely. Music is my heart and soul and it has illuminated my path markers through all of my travels. Even if music itself is what throws me into a seamlessly endless, dark hole with protruding, flesh-tearing minions. I’ll wait until a path marker is exposed or die waiting.

Why so serious today? One might question of my previous two paragraphs. Well, it’s very hard to market what I’ve got. As a matter fact, I’m tired of trying. I was almost fully conditioned to believe that’s imperative to market something such that a profit is necessary to continue. I want to share my music with others. I will, for free. I want to prove that my “Open The Box” concept is valid and can come to fruition. Of course, let me place a single stipulation stating that if “the box” is the puzzle box created by Le Marchend on commission for a guy who obviously didn’t know about Pinhead, then in this case only, DO NOT “Open the Box.” I’m a Clive barker Hellraiser fan all the way. My conventions seem to elicit grand challenges. I believe in them, so I will construct the means to share with money that I have earned. I learn while I’m earning that money. No, I do not want outside money involved in any creative thing I do. Part of the creativity comes from the earning of the money. I have nothing to sell.

As most of you can gather, I don’t spend a lot of time worrying about how I’m going to make money from my music. I don’t need a record company. I don’t need a management firm. I don’t want to be famous. I create without those factors. I do however, need to be surrounded by creative musical sorts and I do need some guidance and support every so often. I have found the resource I need. My next steps will be to do some more research and put together as clear and concise a sample of my vision as possible, then find a way to get it in front of the exactly appropriate people at Nettwerk. That’s all the marketing I will do.

I’ll bring along some levity the next time I sit down to type this blog. I’m still getting back in the habit. Next time I think I’ll get into my job a little and see what comes out.

I’ll be back – take care until then and thanks for reading.

Letting it Go

Thursday, February 09, 2006, 9:03:00 PM

…when all the world is a stage, soft, clean hands will reach your rage. It’s just a book they say, but then they turn the page. No more birds will be let out of the cage…

I took quite a break with the blogging. I’ve been busy. Very busy. I’m now once again resolved to live the single life. I’m a little let down by hockey this season. I’m sure I’ll recover. I’ve sold almost every musical thing I own and might even send the old twenty-some-odd-years in the making Duran Duran collection. I’ve got a piano and some microphones to go, basically. I’m so close to moving to the next step in my I-will-share-my-music-even-if-it-kills-me plan, that I’ve been contemplating selling some kitchen appliances and my prized Henry Rollins signed book collection. About a year, I project, and I’ll have a fully networked set of pc’s and a MAC for all digital recording. Then not long after, two digital recording devices, three digital refiners and three digital camcorders. Within a year after that, the necessary upgrades and several styles of microphones and then the musical instrument collecting will begin again. Who knows what I might get this time.

I have to get into the swing of things again, but I’m not highly concerned. What will happen, will happen. I’ve been kicking ass at work recently. The more I learn about business there, the less wide-eyed and the more wise I become. It’s all truly usefull to someone who foresees the use of business accumen in her later efforts. Well, if you don’t have the time to go school, bring the school to you.

I’ve been reading lately. I started Robert Jordan’s “The Wheel of Time” series, but it seems I have slowed to a crawl right in the middle of the fourth book. I’ll get there, eventually. I am much happier with Depeche Mode’s latest release,”Playing the Angel” than I was with “Exciter.” Seems more natural to me. I’ve wathced so many movies, I’m beginning to sound like a critic. A serious critic. The more one watches, the more apparent things become.

I was typing about Macs and PCs A few paragraphs ago. The best way I can explain the two is simply that it might just be a left-brain, right-brain thing. The MAC is creative arts friendly and the PC is and the Time/Project Manager’s best friend. It’s most logical to the analytical mind. Perhaps you see it differently. I need both. Why let one side of your brain get all the exercise? Actually, it’s mostly out of necessity that I need a networked PC and the most technologically advanced MAC I can upgrade quickly and easily. The organizational and managerial end of what I’d like to do is as important as the creative end. The creative end flows whether I like it not. There is no real off button there, just an tempo adjuster. Taking care of all the techie stuff will require organizational skills. Keeping good records to which only I have access requires years of experience in the administrative field.

I came to the conclusion last year that I need a target in order to keep the dream alive, so to speak, I have my target. Hi Nettwerk, my name is Mia. Thanks Single Gun Theory. Thanks Barenaked Ladies. Thanks Guster. Thanks all the rest of ya. Oh and, Thanks Canada – for the music and the hockey. The laughs are good too.

Now that I know I can do almost all of it myself in a little more than two years, I can concentrate on where I’m going to go with it. The question that I have not been able to answer all these years, finally has an answer. Q:  “Okay, so who’s ready for me?”  A:  Nettwerk

I will be 34 next month. When I was 24, I thought I’d be a little closer to accomplishing some of my goals. It’s not bothersome, where I am now, I’ve already accomplished some goals I thought might take a lot longer. I’m so much closer to my “big one” than I was six years ago. I know I’m closer to it. I literally can feel it. It doesn’t hurt nearly as much. I’m more sure, so I’m less anxious, hence I literally feel less tension. Less uncertainty reduces the overwhelming, never ending dred. When one is driven with no permanent deviation from that “path” one drives, there is no real relief, but there is release. There is no expectation of relief, thus it becomes less important. Suffering to prove it can be done, is no problem with me, just another sad consideration when extrapolating the future.

New stuff a’plenty is on it’s way

Here are the archives for March 2006. Don’t click. Just Read:

I Hear Snowflakes

Wednesday, March 29, 2006, 10:12:00 PM

…they think the dimensions elude them, as they break through the crowded streets. But all the time will not circle and still your heart beats. We go on seeing nothing and take for granted our selves, then someone wrote it down, in a book, placed upon the highest of shelves. The lost language of living art will magically bring it down – and you and I will never part, still doomed, even before the start…

I have a new job title, Information Manager. What this basically means is that I get to fix it if is broken. Find it if it lost. Put it where people can see it. Arrange it so it makes sense. Know it if it is unkown. Create it if it does not exist. And, if it uses any sort of electrical current, it belongs to me. I can deal with that. Can’t say it isn’t challenging.

Today is the first time years that I have actually sat quietly in my apartment without any type of audible stimuli. I’m a sound focused gal. I usually have a radio on, or the TV on, or I have company talking. Quiet doesn’t provoke my brain. However, there are those sweet moments of rare of semi-silence, say when at the beach or camping in the woods, when I can turn it all off and just hang out with exactly what’s going on at that moment, at that time, and nothing else. I think that frustrates my friend Brad sometimes, but I don’t think he understands and I can see his point. I could sit and listen to ocean waves roll in to shore for the entirety of my life and never get bored. Like a stone I could sit – for eons upons eons. Many people have said that no two snowflakes are alike. There’s a high probabability that every snowflake ever formed is unique from any other. To me, no two wave crashes are alike. Each one, a slight bit different from the next. The majority of people see with there eyes. I see with my ears. Odd huh? True nonetheless.

My boss won tickets to a CAPS hockey game and they were right behind the goalie, so even though Washington lost, yet again, I had a great time. I will be sitting right on glass for their last home game, so I’m sure I’ll be lovin’ that. I like going to hockey games by myself because then I can just sit and enjoy the game with no other distraction. I watch games like I’m right in the mix. It’s great.

I’ll be camping and seeing a conert in the near future, so I’m good for sanity stabilizing activies for a while – ROCK!

I have to get the archives from the last three years or so up here, but time is not my biggest proponent, as a matter of fact, it down right antagonizes me, so I have to manage time shrewdly. Damn that fourth dimension.

The Podcast is on it’s way and after that, well, keep checking back. It’s a surprise even for me (although it won’t surprise me when it happens).

Make music.

The Eight Pound Ass Kicker

Wednesday, March 15, 2006, 9:31:00 PM

…about, above, across. Let’s give a preposition a toss. Never let your participle dangle. Otherwise your sentences might tangle…

Aloha bitches! (that one’s for you Captain Botony)

Here’s some irony for those who appreciate such things. I took in a stray cat recently who was barely skin and bones when she moved in with the rest of her feline counterparts. (I have three now, so I am not sure if that qualifies me as a “Crazy cat Lady” or not?) My best buddy Brad “El Kapeetan” was petting Emma, the stray, and she was batting at him as many cats do and may have given him a little love nip or two. He drew back and informed me that the Emma was trying to hurt him. My reply to that was (okay PETA people – the following statement was made in jest and in no way do I condone such things – I was simply making a point – got it? Okay – good) “there’s really no need to be afraid of an 8 pound cat. I mean you could pick her up and throw her against the wall. She won’t hurt you. Don’t be afraid.” He admitted that I did have a point and seemed to have no problem petting her after that. Later that weekend, I was petting Emma and reached down to pick her up and give her a nuzzle. At that precise moment, something spooked her that neither I nor my other two cats could see, but it was enough to put Emma on Full On Assault Mode. That little, tiny 8 pound cat managed to get every single one of her twenty claws into the tender, pink skin on my right hand and arm. Yes, a miniature cat tore me up and right good at that! I got my ass kicked by something not too much larger than my head. Her offensive defense worked flawlessly, because I let go of her within milliseconds of the attack. It was clear she did not want to be handled at that time. I counted all the bleeding tears and truly, she did manage to get ALL twenty claws into some part of my right extremity.

I’ve been around many cats in my lifetime, but this was the most concentrated slew of bloody ripped up skin I’ve ever received and the kicker is that it was given to me by a wee little cat. So the whole point to this story is “I’m a dumbass Brad and Yes, be afraid of the 8 pound cat, be very afraid.” There’s no way anyone could pick her up and throw her, because she’s just not having that and she’ll have no problem proving it.

Street cats have honed their survival instincts well and felines get crabby every-so-often (just ask Siegried and Roy), so I totally understand why she did it and I don’t hold it against her, but I had a painfull reminder of the incident for a few days because the cut that did the most damage just happend to right in the middle of my palm. Palm cuts royally suck, because humans use their palms for many, many, many things. Good job mamme kitty – you got me!

I’ve been walking around for a couple of days with what I like to call “Goalie Groin.” Most athelete, especially hockey players and ice skaters/dancers usually understand the joys of the pulled groin. That’s my most common problem. I’ve been told I need to keep that area as warm as I can when minding a net, but so far, all the extra padding has only made me slower. I’ve tried diferent materials and contraptions, but I get so focused on keeping that little black flying object out of the net, I contort myself in whatever direction necessary to accomplish that feat. I have learned all sorts if unflattering stretches that help the situation, but it happens. Once it does, my walk turns into half a waddle and sometimes I’m caught rubbing my groin (well it’s sore – really sore). I’ve got hockey crotch (technically not the crotch, but the guys love to give me shit and point out every single time I put my hand anywhere near my groin muscles).

I totally enjoy being a net minder for three main reasons: 1) At pick-up games, goalies usually play for free and they usually always play, because there aren’t usually more than two who show up to play at any given time; 2) I get the watch the entire game, from ice level, everytime and 3) I see patterns quickly and easily, so opponents only need shoot on me a little more than a few times before I understand their shooting habits and strengths, which makes my reaction time that much quicker, so I get better and better every time I play. Goalies are a different breed. Maybe we’re (goalies) the weirdos, but it makes no difference to me. I love it, love it, luhuve itt!

I don’t get to see my hockey fellas that often, but we sure do get along famously when we get together. Oh boy! It wasn’t always like that. The first time I showed up to a pick-up game, I think I heard every kind of comment anyone can possibly imagine. I have to say, I thought it was all very funny. I would have been insulted, but I just wanted to play so badly, I barely even noticed. Besides, I can dish it as well as I can take it, so eventually, the fellas had no choice but to accept me as one of their “clan.” I still get the ocassional “hey little girl, field hockey try outs were yesterday,” and “look here boobs, we don’t play with a Nerf Puck, so maybe you’d better just go get us some beer and wait out back.” The thing is, those poor silly men aren’t aware that I use phrases like “bite me”, “kiss my left one, oh and then lick my right one,” “yeah, I got thrown off the field hockey team for breaking heads and laughing about it,” and “you’ll get beer when you get the puck past me sweet cheeks.” We’re all a bunch of sarcastic hockey players now, so when a “newbie” gives me crap, the guys run away laughing after wishing the “newbie” luck. They know. I have a high tolerance for pain for some reason, so even when the vindictive shots welt me up good, I still just keep getting up. Most of us just love the game, so if my size and gender begins as an issue, it goes away without too much struggle. Yay hockey!

I’ll be posting some pictures soon. You’ll soon see that I will let my friend Brad do anything to my hair that he so chooses. I’ll even go out in public with a “Brad” on my head. He came up with a doozy for that Hershey, PA Barenaked Ladies, Feb. 2004. Now that was a masterpiece. Just think Jada Pinket Smith in the Matrix movie. It took a long time to get it done, but it was fabulous!

I had another finger tip accident last week. I had one a few years ago, so this time I knew exactly what to do. I almost sliced one of my finger tips off on my left hand. My left hand is my guitar hand dammit! I need those finger tips. I worked hard on those callouses, so chopping one off is a big problem. First thing I did was put the tip back where it was supposed to be and then taped it up good and tight. The next day I switched the strings of my guitar around a la Jimmie Hendrix so I could strum with the left. I’ve already had to do this once before when the tip of another finger on the left hand almost got lopped off, so it was a fairly easy transition. Playing is clumsy and unpolished, but I can finger better this time around, so all is well in Mialand. The skin has already fused, so now it’s just a matter of giving a little more heal time and then the month or so of pain rebuilding the callous.

Well, music to you and I’ll type at you later!

The archives for April 2006 are right here (click-free, keep reading):

At the good old hockey game blah, something, umm…

Tuesday, April 18, 2006, 8:59:00 AM

Hey, what’d’ya know – the CAPS one last night. The first and third periods were there strongest and Pettinger was on his game last night. Of course, it’s always something when one gets to see Ovechkin play and as a surprise to me, Zubrus was busy getting penalty minutes last night. I had a good time and It was worth the money to me, so thanks to CAPS for a decent game last night and all the cool people sitting in the first two rows of section 110.

There is a part of me that does not want to admit that I don’t know a lot of the words to the Hockey Song. The words run on the screen at games, but I guess I don’t pay that much attention to it. I was trying to sing along last night and realized I had previously made up my own words and I needed to learn the real words. I worked on it all the way up to the point where a very energetic Asian man got up when he saw himself on the screen and did a very cool dance with great confidence. He made the whole building laugh. Way to go happy, dancing Asian guy! He distracted me, so I suppose I’ll have to look up the words now.

I will decide who I’m going to follow through the play-offs and I’ve been contemplating having a play-off party somewhere along the way. I am usually surrounded by Baseball and Football lovers. Rarely do I run across a hockey fan of my ilk, so I spend the hockey season by myself much more often than not, and I get invited to or hear about SuperBowl parties and Opening Day parties and so on, but never anything hockey related. I do, however, now know enough people who only watch hockey during the play-offs, so perhaps this year I’ll gather some of those people and make a party out it.

As is plain to see, I did not edit or re-read yesterday afternoon’s post. I read it this morning and had a grand old time picking on myself for “fat-fingering” and “thinking” words, but not actually typing them. Well, I guess I wasn’t concerned with accuracy yesterday?!

The more I look at my blonde hair, the more I think it’s one of the most interesting colors I’ve had on my head. Okay, don’t get me wrong, I’ve had Ronald McDonald Red, Grimace Purple and all sorts of various shades in between on my head, but for some reason I haven’t figured out, I look at my hair and have to take a moment to process the fact it’s on my head. I’m sure I’ll get used to it.

Work has been keeping me on my toes. I am totally not used to the schedule yet. It took me years to get used to the Mon-Fri., 9-5 and now my work schedule is nothing like that at all. I could be at home at 12:30AM, at work at 5:30am, at the grocery store at 9am or any time during the weekend, and I’ll be working. Basically, I’m on call 24/7/365. There are a few exceptions to that though. For example, my phone rang twice last night during the hockey game and those calls were both work related so they went to voicemail. That was a no brainer for me. Hockey V. Work – resoundingly a knock-out for hockey.

I recently took a four hour pratical exam for Advanced PC Troubleshooting and remembered why I finally stopped going to “school.” I’m lucky enough to not get test nerves and I don’t blank or freak, but I haven’t had a four-hour exam since I defended my thesis. At least this time, I could troubleshoot any way I wanted as long as I found and suggested a fix, or series of fixes. No multiple choice or essays. I only felt a little pressure when it dawned on me while troubleshooting one problem, that I had neglected to check something on a previous problem that could make a difference in how to suggest a fix and I was running low on time. I decided to troubleshoot both at the same time, which I was told was not a good idea and should be avoided if possible, but I took the risk and finished with enough time to go over each again. I’m not in a gigantic hurry to do another exam. I’ll have to at least once more this year. I’m sure the Networking class will include a pratical exam.

I got my fins, mask and snorkel out and checked them out. Now that I have had LASIK eye surgery, I can SCUBA dive again. I have had too many difficulties with contacts for them to feasible for me and I couldn’t really afford a prescription mask considering I also had prescription glasses, sunglasses, goggles and sports glasses. The sports glasses didn’t work out for me either. Now I can see without aid, so things I like to do are easier and little less expensive. I was so damn happy when I played a hockey game after getting the surgery. I had previously been used to having contacts make me see double, roll up in my eye lid or blur everything more than it was. If I didn’t wear contacts, I was wearing those sports glasses, but they got stuck in my hair, slid down when I sweat and gave me no peripheral vision. The last resort was to play with nothing and only see details clearly about where the blue box would be. My ears came in handy for that. I’ll have to take a refresher course and purchase a little more gear, but I’m aiming for that by the end of the year. It’ll be nice to see underwater again.

Kevin g out there mentioned the New Jersey Devils in a comment and it reminded me that I have to call someone in NJ about the NJ Devils. That’s a long story, but back to the subject of hockey, I’ve been a Devils fan for a while in the sense that two of my favorite goalies were Devils. I’m goalie oriented (big secret). As a matter of fact, I make up little goalie terms when situations arise. My favorite (inspired by the CAPS this year) is GDB. Goalies can now just think or say “GDB” when another “God Damn Breakaway” leaves you just waiting for when and which way to move, knowing the odds are against you if the shooter has room to play. If you don’t want to use God’s name in such a way, I’m sure if you’re a goalie, you’ve got your own – I just like GDB.

I’m completely stunned by the cost of houses in the Maryland areas I’ve been looking. I was thinking about buying the brick rancher across the court from my mother. That way I can have my own space, but be close enough to be of assistance if she needs it. I made an inquiry and the thing costs $299,000. My parents bought a larger house in the same court about 30 years ago for $35,000. I think I’ll just keep renting for the time being – yikes! These prices can’t stay like this forever (can they? maybe I’ll look into squatting and installing indoor plumbing on my own?!).

I used to be bothered when I got carded all the time for everything, but now I just bring my ID and a back-up everywhere I go and accept that it will happen. It is very flattering in a certain sense. However, being female and looking that young, leads many people upon first look to think I am a fragile, unworldly, wide-eyed, idiot who just fell off the turnip truck. I can assure you, I am nothing of the kind. My outside evokes things in people that it should not and there’s nothing I can do about it other than act like me. If anyone were to pay attention for a little while, they’d get it. I guess I get a little frustrated because it wastes a lot of time having to prove my age and my knowledge and my physical strenght all the time with no break in site. It’s my outside that people see first, so I’m set on being slightly frustrated. I’ve accepted light frstration, so I’m okay with being carded.

I have to get to work now, so off I go and no, I won’t proof read this one either.

Music for you, Music for me, Music from land, into the great deep sea.

Monday Night Hockey Night!

Monday, April 17, 2006, 2:35:00 PM

…funny to see, all the sillines in me, then laugh a bit, a laugh most definately filled with grit…

I have just returned from my hair appointment with Rudy. He’s good and his prices reflect it. I can’t afford to go to Rudy a lot and I don’t cut my hair very often, so my coloring gets mottled in between visits to Rudy. He had to fix a few stripes and spots for me today, so he just made me full on blonde. The bottom hair is still something simalr to my natural hair color, but at first glance, I look way blonde. Wheh the men get a hold of my hair, they know they try almost anything on me because I’ll walk around with whatever on my head. I trust them to experiment carefully, but I let them do what they please for the most part.

I have an ice-level seat for the CAPS game tonight and I’m ready to go – right now. I feel a little out of sorts because my hair has not been this blonde since I was a tiny little girl with platinum white hair. I guess somebody’s genetics eventually took over though. As I grew my hair became darker and darker. Anyway, who cares – It’s a hockey night for me. I have gone to the last home of the CAPS for six years in a row (well, the lockout year I skipped – still a little pissed about that). This will be the third time I’ve gotten a seat on the glass. I like being ice-level. I can smell the ice and hear what’s going on – it’s great. I can’t see too many hockey games. I’m on a budget, but if I can only see just one game a year, I’ll pay to sit on the glass – no problem. Now, if the CAPS could kick some ass this evening, that’d be even better.

I still get carded for alcohol and smokes. It seems I look at least 12 – 15 years younger than I actually am, but if those people could only see the amount of white hair that was deftly covered by Rudy this morning, they wouldn’t bother asking for ID. If I were a fictional wizard, I could say I skipped a step and straight from Grey to White. There’s no way these hairs are anything but white. They almost glow in the dark.

I has some time to spare today, so I hopped in here for a spell and do some typing about my day. I’ve been “blogging” for so long now, that I just figure it’s been integrated into my life, so I’ll just roll with it. Who knows, I may get up one day and think differently.

Much Magical Music t the CAPS (and you too)

I Think They’re Bored

Sunday, April 16, 2006, 10:22:00 AM

…did the wind snake the leaves in the fall, by the hall – was it real at all? Are the glorious skies, orange, purple, red and yellow, made by human toil – is it too late for the soil?  – did someone try to foil? Make a sound. Leave the ground. Leave an anchor and look around…

I’ve recently been taking online classes for PC Troubleshooting, Networking and Internet Security. WOW! That’s a bunch of stuff right there. My brain has fused itself into some kind of chaotic, entangled mesh of  “techie” terms and semantics. Oh the levels are a plenty. My advanced troubleshooting class is based on competition and computer prowess. These dudes (all dudes – I checked – I’m the only female in this class) must eat, shit and sleep this wonderful world of technology. Yikes! They type such exquisitely complicated discussion group posts. I tend to cut through all the tangles and my posts seem like rather small potatoes when compared to the posts of my classmates. It took me 45 minutes to read something someone posted. I think it’s interesting, but I go for the approach that makes everything as succinct as possible.

To get to my point, I was working on an issue at work and a dialog box appeard informing me that I could not recreate a system semaphore, or something along those lines. Cannot recreate a system semaphore eh? Well, I knew semaphore was a word, but I couldn’t recall what it meant and I have never seen anything on a computer screen like that before, so I chuckled at the terminology and removed the file from the “trash” and was able to complete the process. I knew that was the only thing that had changed since I had successfully done it before. However, I just had to know what a semaphore was so I looked it up and here it is. I’m sure it makes sense if I really knew how it applies to files on a computer. I can see it a bit. What kind of things did the person who came up with such a warning experience in his or life. I think there’s a techie out there who is bored.

I’m going camping next weekend with a few people I’ve never met and Brad. I will be dropping off my dad’s ashes while I’m there as well. I’m sure he’ll be happy on the wind, with the ponies. Assateague Island National Seashore is a place I know very, very well. There are books written about the supossedly Spanish ponies that live on Assateague and Chincoteague. I see new ponies every year. They’re very stocky and hearty. Quite willing to hang out with you and chew holes through your tent to get to yummies. If you ever visit there, please drive a moderate pace and keep your eyes open, the little animals are hard to see and ponies die every year from vehicle injuries. I like camping because I can walk around, smell the different air, hear the different sound and see the different things without all the worries of the everyday hanging around. I don’t time to travel or vacation (or money for that matter) any more, so a good camping trip to a place I know and love is quite a treat.

I realize that I need to make the photos I upload to this site smaller. I worked on the archives for a while last week, but  I need to do a few things and get an appropriate transfer method, so the archives are still a rumor to you at this moment. Of course, there’s a few who’ve been around since the Open The Box, Almost Daily Ruminations days. One of them could confirm the rumor if you knew who they were. I have a four hour practical exam on Monday and I’m still getting accustomed to my new work schedule. I figure it’ll be mid-May before the archives are up for reading. Until then, some more recent readers may find themselves confused and bewildered by some of my references. For anyone who truly is interested – it won’t be long now.

My almost lost finger tip has healed nicely and there are good signs of hard skin forming, so I’m back to my strong guitar playing side again. This time, I noticed that my right hand naturally strums one way, but my left naturally does something different.

There’s a fellow named Bruce Bickford who lives in the great Northwest, US. He does clay animation and he seems very interesting. He did work for Frank Zappa decades ago and, to my knowledge, is still at it from his home studio. I bring him up because I recently saw a documentary about him made in 2004. Toward the end of the documentary, he mentioned something about seeing the “microcosm” as the “macrocosm” and the other way around because he’s dyslexic. I was very pleased to hear someone else say what I’ve been thinking about my self for a year or so now. Of course, dyslexia basically encompassess only language as in reading or speaking, so there is probably a better term for Mr. Bickford and myself. Regardless of the terminology, I always see the the big picture as the small picture and the small picture as the big picture (to be metaphorical). I am aware that I do it, especially when it comes to numbers and certain phrases, but when it comes to the way I percieve things, I am aware and therefore can adjust accordingly. It’s comforting to know someone else out there can understand.

I’ll be seeing Depeche Mode next month and then I have some summer gigs of my own set-up, so there is hope I’ll have a musical summer.

I need to go clean the litter box and go to work, so music to you and I’ll be back soon with more photos.

Here are the archive posts from May 2006 (clicking on/opening the link is currently necessary to view this archive)

Here are the archive posts from June 2006 (clicking on/opening the link is currently necessary to view this archive)

Here are the archive posts from July 2006 (clicking on/opening the link is currently necessary to view this archive)

Here are the archive posts from August 2006 (clicking on/opening the link is currently necessary to view this archive)

Here are the archive posts from September 2006 (clicking on/opening the link is currently necessary to view this archive)

Here are the archive posts from October 2006 (clicking on/opening the link is currently necessary to view this archive)

Here are the archive posts from November 2006 (clicking on/opening the link is currently necessary to view this archive)

Here are the archive posts from December 2006 (clicking on/opening the link is currently necessary to view this archive)

 

 

 

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