One Smart Primate

valentine's day thoughts

2012-02-14T11:11:00.000-08:00

I tried to make a blog post calmly and logically laying out the reasons why I hate Valentine's Day, but it's hard to calmly and logically put ragethoughts down so I scrapped it.

All I really want to say is this:

I hate Valentine's Day from my core with the fire of a thousand suns. You might not, and that's okay. You trying to convince me is not okay, however, and I will want very much to rip your face off if you try.

You will not convert me. Let's just agree to disagree and move on.

inspiration spreads like wildfire

2012-02-13T14:54:00.000-08:00

I've been feeling pretty shitty lately, and even considered giving up on a lot of the creative things I'm interested in for a while.

Then over the weekend my brain went, "NOPE! YOU DO WHAT I SAY AND I SAY YOU CREATE!"

Mostly I plotted. I plotted out a few things for a game I play, which will hopefully be fun. I also took a buttload of notes for a comic I'd like to make. I haven't gotten around to character design yet, but I'm sure that's on the horizon.

I think I blame Pinterest for the rest that hit. About a week ago I decided what my first tattoo is going to be. Today I actually "designed" it (it's just text, so I just picked a font and printed it out). I also decided my second tattoo.

In about a month and a half I'll be getting the tiniest raise imaginable, and I've decided I'm going to put it toward a membership at 24 Hour Fitness. What's been stopping me from going to my apartment's gym is A) there are only two treadmills, and usually when I pass through during the day they're both taken, and B) I'm having the hardest time waking up early enough to go before work, when they're likely to be free. I figure 24 Hour Fitness will have a few free at a time.

And when I have a little bit of extra money I'm going to buy myself a pair of drumsticks. Of the instruments I've considered over the years (guitar, bass, maybe even picking up the clarinet again) it wasn't until I thought "drums" that I really felt happy and excited. I think I would really like playing the drums, and I can start teaching myself with just the sticks until I can get myself a kit of some size. I don't know what I'll do with drum knowledge, but that doesn't really matter.

So just...yeah. The last few days I've been feeling really charged with creative energy. I'm going to ride it for a while and see where it goes before it runs out.

women in combat

2012-02-10T14:39:00.000-08:00

This article tries to have some valid points, but I think it's wrong in one important one:

It is incredibly naive and wrongheaded to suggest the average woman can run as fast and carry the same load as the average man. Denying the biological facts to advance a policy change for women in ground combat may please feminists with no clue about military culture, but it is dangerous for our security.

Guess what, people, the military isn't open to the "average man." People looking to enlist have to pass a few tests before they're sorted between combat and non-combat positions. So, the "average man" doesn't go into combat, either. The "average man" is usually back at HQ, or in the med tents, or filling any of a number of different non-combat roles.

The "average man" is also especially inadequate for special forces. They are the elite, the best of the best of the best of the best. Comparing an average man to a special forces man is the same "apples to coconuts" comparison made in that article.

People at the top of the bell curve of their gender's physical ability aren't combat capable. It takes time and training and more training and a Drill Sargent barking in their face to push them to the high end, to have the mental and physical strength and fortitude to survive life on the front lines.

The option to open all combat slots to women doesn't mean there HAS to be a woman in every level of combat; it's fucking combat, people, these servicemen and -women could die, it should absolutely NOT be about filling a quota. But stop looking at the gender of the fighter and look at their abilities. Set before all persons interested in going into direct combat the same tests and trials as everyone else. Not every woman is going to make it. Guess what! Not every man is going to, either. Who honestly expects everyone to qualify?

There's a difference between being told, "You can't go fight because you're a woman," and "You can't go fight because you don't meet the requirements." That, I believe, is what's being asked to change.

second class citizens

2012-01-19T07:39:00.000-08:00

Last night I was breezing through my Twitter feed when I came across a post by Ellen Degeneres. It's a video that was only titled Gay Rights Movement, and even though I didn't get around to watching it last night I forwarded it on into the Twittersphere. It being something supported by Ellen that has to do with gay rights, I knew it was safe and probably powerful, and I'd get to it when I had time.

I finally watched it, at work, which was a mistake because the video made me cry and gave me goosebumps. Here it is:

The video is a primer for a documentary someone wants to make about LGBT people as second class citizens. I suspect it will be incredibly awesome, and wanting to help out, I pledged to my first kickstarter.

And then I stopped and thought about what I'd just done. The project hit $47k within its first twenty-four hours. With fifty days left, it's already doubled its goal. While I'm sure my pledge would have made it EXTRA AWESOME AND POWERFUL, and I would've gotten my name on stuff in support and maybe a poster, I just couldn't do it. I thought about donating to PFLAG, but that's really for straight people who support their gay friends and family. As a pansexual, that didn't feel right to me. So I pledged a dollar to the kickstarter, then put the rest I was already planning on donating into the Human Rights Campaign, instead. And since I was there, anyway, I signed up for Millions for Marriage, too. I'm feeling pretty good about the day so far =]

ghost, somebody i used to know

2012-01-08T17:17:00.000-08:00

Here are a couple of songs that I'd like to share:

I first heard this song a while back, when Ingrid Michaelson covered it. I didn't think much of it then for some reason. A few days ago someone linked another cover and I don't know what happened, I was just instantly hooked. I've listened to all three versions about twenty times a day for the past three days.

If I look at it objectively, this song probably strikes a chord because it's an awful lot like something that happened about a year ago. I don't even think about that when I hear it, though. I just really like this song.

This one:

This one definitely struck a chord when I first heard it, so much so that I got chills and goosebumps and didn't listen to it again for a few days, because I think I almost cried when I heard it, too. That's how I've felt about a lot of her music. It touches on some sensitive part of my heart that I didn't even realize was sensitive at the time, and it kind of helps me let go of something, or accept something. I love all music for that.

i love technology

2012-01-04T20:33:00.000-08:00

When I was in junior high my mom got me a scientific calculator. It was a sleek sexy solar powered number with three functions per button, most of which I never used because my teachers didn't want us using calculators all the time. My calculator had a slip cover to protect it which was completely obliterated by the time I got to high school. The calculator itself never broke, though. I never liked math because in seventh grade it all clicked for me, and I realized school just taught the exact same thing over and over again. It was boring and repetitive and had no challenge for me until my second semester of pre-Calculus my senior year (which I took for FUN, yeah, I was a nerd) when I ran into a terrible teacher.

I look back on that calculator fondly, though. It was probably the beginning of my love affair with gadgets. It was also very very precious, because it was very expensive. I took really good care of that calculator (except for the destruction of the cover), because I knew that if anything were to happen to it there was no way in hell I'd be able to get a replacement.

I just downloaded a free "scientific calculator" app to my phone from a sea of free scientific calculator apps.

THE FUTURE I AM IN YOU

PS: I'm going in for placement tests on Saturday. It's just community college, but still, I'm pretty stoked and trying not to freak out about going back to school, even though I'm viewing this as basically going back to school with training wheels.

goals for the year

2012-01-04T12:37:00.000-08:00

New Year's resolutions have always been weird to me, so I've never really done them. Any time I try to make them I A) have to struggle to come up with something, and B) immediately forget it. Did I promise myself I'd lose weight this year? Write a novel? Meet new friends? I have no idea. I stopped trying a few years ago, because for me resolutions are pretty much pointless.

This year, I have made kind of a resolution, though. This year, and in every one hereafter, I'm going to keep fear from holding me back. Fears have been crippling me for years. They keep me from getting the education I want, from making that thing I want to make, from talking to that person I'd like to talk to. I overthink things, and wind up talking myself out of them, or delaying to the point where actions are no longer possible.

So I'm going to work on that. I'm going to think less and do more. Maybe I'll keep a journal of accomplishments like Kai. Actually that's a pretty good idea, I think I'll do just that.

For today I can put in "Applied to Red Rocks Community College." I could only apply for this semester, which is insanely short notice for me, so we'll see how that works out. Hopefully it will. I also booked a hotel for next week's trek back east.

Take that, fear! I will cut you!

goodbye, 2011, and good effing riddance

2011-12-31T23:59:00.000-08:00

I've tried not to make a big deal of it, but this has been a pretty crap year for me. Not that anything hugely horrible has happened, no one died, no one was physically injured. I've had worse years by far. It was still pretty bad, though.

At the very end of last year my car was repossessed, so I started off this year with no car and carpooling with my brother, which was okay except that he made me late for work every single day even after adjusting my schedule. Then sometime in January or February I cut off someone I thought was my friend. I was her friend for a long time, long after she'd decided I was no longer her friend, and I just couldn't take the constant fight to prove her wrong. I gave up. I already have a family member who forces me to prove my love, I don't need that from someone I chose to have in my life. A couple months later I found out this guy I'd liked for months had lied every step of the way about liking me in return. Even though the loss of this douchewad from my life is relatively minor, the sense of bitter betrayal has covered the entire rest of my year with a general malaise tinged with anger and shame. In September I tried to date, and that lasted all of about two seconds because here was another person using me while simultaneously taking me for granted and treating me far less than I deserved. Also this year I found out that I spend the majority of my time massively sleep deprived.

In the last month or so things have finally started looking up again. My finances are almost back in order, despite getting an expensive (and totally awesome and worth it) car and then immediately taking that car on a road trip. My company's market is stabilizing, which hopefully means good things for me at work. I have the best friends in the world, and even though I didn't lean on them nearly as much as I probably should have, without them I probably would've been a raging hellbeast all year, ranting and raving and destroying everything good in my life before it even had a chance to really get better.

Speaking of, at the time that this posts I'll be with those very awesome friends, eating good food (including awesome cheesecake probably). I can't think of a better way to ring in the new year.

So farewell, 2011. Good fucking riddance.

step-family

2011-12-13T08:07:00.000-08:00

I was talking to my friend, Mindy, about her step-mom a bit. As usually happens when talking to people about their re-married parents, it got me thinking about mine. My mom re-married to a man named Bill just before I entered junior high and it changed my life completely. Not just in not-so-simple way of adding a new father-figure to the family. When my mom re-married we moved from the east side of Indianapolis, a place of questionable safety (I saw someone's house broken into from across my street once at a sleepover), to Carmel, a far upper middle class suburb of Indy. This was about the time my family started to fracture apart. I don't know all the details about what happened between my older brother, Robert, and my mom and Bill. I just know it was bad. Bill essentially (or literally, I don't know) kicked my brother out, and my mom didn't stop it. This led to a pretty terrible rift between my brother and my mom that lasted until pretty recently.

The move itself was pretty life altering, too. The school change was pretty bad. Not that I'd never changed schools before. Because my mom was always trying to get us a better education than what we'd get in the Indianapolis Public Schools she lied to get us into other districts. Between kindergarten and fifth grade I attended five different schools. Somehow I stayed pretty talkative and outgoing, getting along with teachers as much or more than my classmates. Then I moved to uppity Carmel, and I went from being teased for being white to being teased for having been poor. The kids in Carmel made fun of me for everything, and I became the introvert most of you know me as today. It was better than the alternative, though. The junior high I would've gone to if I'd stayed in IPS installed metal detectors the year I moved, and I remember reading an article about a girl being raped under the bleachers during a school rally.

Anyway, during my junior high years Bill, my step-dad, started to show his true asshole colors. At least to us. Much later we'd learn the full extent of it all, but for my brother Chris and me, it started to get pretty bad for us. I remember there was some problem with my grades, so Bill made me carry every single book I had for school to and from school every day. When my bookbag broke from the strain, he just made me use a gym bag. There were bad things going on behind closed doors, as well, between him and my mom, things I don't want to think about, let alone talk about.

The worst thing about having Bill for my step-dad, though, is that it's because of him that I lost my mom, in just about every sense. If he hadn't come into our lives she wouldn't have been further abused, at least not by him. She wouldn't have gone to prison, which pretty much destroyed her. She's gotten a lot better over the years, but she'll never be the same. And if she hadn't gone to prison I wouldn't have needed to move in with someone else's family for my senior year of high school, a family that simultaneously shamed and infuriated me.

The sad thing, though, is that for all that Bill ruined our lives, he also made them better. Moving out of my old neighborhood and into Carmel was a good thing. We had a much better quality of life and a much MUCH better education. And while the kids in school could be incredibly mean (I had run-ins with my very own Regina George, Gemma whatever, and her lackeys), there were some good years in there. I met some amazing people and made some really great friends. And because of the horrible things I lived through, I'm better able to handle the tough times.

I don't know where or who I'd be if these things hadn't happened. I don't like to think about where I might've ended up if I'd stayed in the IPS system.

I saw a quote somewhere about how people will lift you up or bring you down, but in the end you'll thank them both. I wish I could find it, because it'd be a pretty boss way to end this post.

little changes

2011-12-01T17:32:00.001-08:00

Regarding that last blog entry, I changed my mind. I turned my notice in to Macy's the other day, so next Saturday is my last day there. A friend suggested to me that it was probably a decent amount of extra income, but an extra $70 a week is not worth the late night parking situation at my apartment or still having to deal with pissy customers even though I'm not a salesperson. The biggest reason for me leaving is that working there triggered an allergy attack which, regardless of how much better I get, worsens every time I go in for any amount of time. Last night I only worked for an hour and a half and was a coughing hacking mess. If anyone else is looking for a decent part-time job for the remainder of the holidays, and they have a decent immune system, I'd recommend it.

Another little change: I've moved my deviantart account again. After I post this you'll be able to click the link on this blog and it'll take you to the new one. The reason for this move is that I'd like to get serious about drawing again, maybe revisiting that comic idea. If I'm going to be serious about this, I should use a serious name. Errin B. Nicholas has been my pen name since high school, but who knows! Maybe it won't be just a pen name forever. The process to change one's name is pretty involved, though, and takes a bunch of paperwork, so that's going to wait until some other time.

So that's it for now. Hopefully I'll be able to kick my allergies into submission soon, though I'm not counting on it. The schedule snafu at Macy's has been fixed, and between the two jobs I have no days off. Blugh.

i am allergic to my part-time job

2011-11-29T05:52:00.001-08:00

Last Friday I worked my first day-after-Thanksgiving since I moved away from Indiana. It was very busy, but not chaotic really. Then again, I'm not a sales person, so I didn't have to worry about tending customer needs as much. They still asked me tons of questions all the time because I have to wear what might as well be a brightly glowing beacon that says COME TO ME, MY PRETTIES, I HAVE ALL THE ANSWERS, even though I have none of the answers. All I did all day was point people to the restrooms, direct others to actual sales people with actual product knowledge, and go in circles around sales racks people destroyed while I was straightening them. It's retail during the holidays, though, which is what it is so it wasn't too bad.

Except for one thing. The day after Thanksgiving was my first full shift. I got in at 6am and was out around 3:30pm, which wouldn't have been terrible except I was swept into the junior's department first thing. Things were going okay until after lunch, when I started to sneeze. I didn't really think much of it until I started noticing the tell-tale signs of post-nasal drip. Things didn't get better when I got home, either. I zonked out pretty hard for a while, and when I woke up my head was all kinds of congested.

I don't know what it was exactly that set off my allergies. It could be anything, really. Items, perfume, customers. Maybe I'm allergic to teenagers. Maybe the allergens were there all along and I needed a spritz of Taylor Swift's Wonderstruck to open my system to them. All I know is that it's been a few days and I think I'm finally in the final stages of this recent allergy madness, meaning that I sound like I'm on the brink of death and have to blow my nose a few times an hour (Kleenex cool-touch tissues are made of win, btw, I will never buy a different tissue ever again), but otherwise I feel pretty okay. Except that my alternately running and stuffed up nose has been keeping me from getting a decent night's sleep, which makes me pretty @_@ at my day job.

This coupled with some scheduling issues that were supposed to be fixed last week and a constant inability to get in touch with my manager who is the only one who can fix said scheduling issues are really making me want to just say SCREW IT and bail. I don't need this crap!

Except that I need the money. I need to catch up all of my bills, and I'm going home to Indiana for my brother's wedding and will need money for fuel and food and lodging and a dress. And shoes, probably. Oh and I've got a little crush on this guy who works in the men's department.

So, I'll be sticking with the part-time job until the end of the holidays. Even though there are some insane shifts ahead of me (like closing at midnight on a Wednesday @_@). It's just another month. I can probably take it.

Unless my allergies don't clear up. I can't work someplace that literally makes me sick. It is pretty cool, though, that I have the option to leave at any time. It's nice not feeling like I have to suck up to everyone regardless of section in order to keep employed. It makes working in retail again about 1000% less stressful.

convicts and their social reintegration

2011-11-15T12:58:00.001-08:00

You know what I don't get? The treatment of people who have been convicted of crimes, served their time, and continue to be punished after they've been set free again. Then again, I'm biased. One of the nicest people I know is a convicted felon. Who is that person? My mom.

Yep.

The how and why of her incarceration are not up for discussion here. In 1997 she was sent to prison for four years but got out after two on good behavior, and spent the next two on probation. That should've been the end, right? I mean, whether or not she deserved her sentence (and believe me, she did not), she served her time.

Unfortunately, punishment for crimes doesn't actually end there. It doesn't ever really end. Despite the fact that my mother is one of the nicest, friendliest people out there, and a law abiding citizen who hasn't done anything worse than get a few traffic violations since, that black mark affects her ability to get employment and her ability to buy a home in a lot of states. Not to mention the social stigma of being a convict. It's a roadblock. Or, to create a better visual image, it's the proverbial ball and chain, and it will never, ever go away.

Now, I'm sure there are people out there who are still bad eggs who will become repeat offenders after they've served their time. I also know that the number of these people is a pretty high percentage of convicted felons. It's just unfortunate that eleven years after the fact people like my mom, despite the whole rest of their record being clean, will have to jump through hoops to do a lot of things the rest of us take for granted because of this one black mark.

I thought of this today when I read this article about a bill that proposes to make life even harder for law-breakers in Canada.

autumn story

2011-11-08T09:39:00.000-08:00

My mom sent this to me, so I thought I'd share. Even though we learned we're not as Oneida by blood as we thought we were, it's still part of my family's heritage. Also, I love mythology.

The hunting of the Great Bear
An Iroquois Legend

There were four hunters who were brothers. No hunters were as good as they at following a trail. They never gave up once they began tracking their quarry.

One day, in the moon when the cold nights return, an urgent message came to the village of the four hunters. A great bear, one so large and powerful that many thought it must be some kind of monster, had appeared. The people of the village whose hunting grounds the monster had invaded were afraid.

The children no longer went out to play in the woods. The long houses of the village were guarded each night by men with weapons who stood by the entrances. Each morning, when the people went outside, they found the huge tracks of the bear in the midst of their village. They knew that soon it would become even more bold.

Picking up their spears and calling to their small dog, the four hunters set forth for that village, which was not far away. As they came closer they noticed how quiet the woods were. There were no signs of rabbits or deer and even the birds were silent.

On a great pine tree they found the scars where the great bear had reared up on hind legs and made deep scratches to mark its territory. The tallest of the brothers tried to touch the highest of the scratch marks with the tip of his spear. "It is as the people feared," the first brother said. "This one we are to hunt is Nyah-gwaheh, a monster bear."

"But what about the magic that the Nyah-gwaheh has?" said the second brother.

The first brother shook his head. "That magic will do it no good if we find its track."

"That's so," said the third brother. "I have always heard that from the old people. Those creatures can only chase a hunter who has not yet found its trail. When you find the track of the Nyah-gwaheh and begin to chase it, then it must run from you."

"Brothers," said the fourth hunter who was the fattest and laziest, "did we bring along enough food to eat? It may take a long time to catch this big bear. I'm feeling hungry."

Before long, the four hunters and their small dog reached the village. It was a sad sight to see. There was no fire burning in the center of the village and the doors of all the long houses were closed. Grim men stood on guard with clubs and spears and there was no game hung from the racks or skins stretched for tanning. The people looked hungry.

The elder sachem of the village came out and the tallest of the four hunters spoke to him.

"Uncle," the hunter said, "we have come to help you get rid of the monster."

Then the fattest and laziest of the four brothers spoke. "Uncle," he said, "is there some food we can eat? Can we find a place to rest before we start chasing this big bear. I'm tired."

The first hunter shook his head and smiled. "My brother is only joking, Uncle." he said. " We are going now to pick up the monster bear's trail."

"I am not sure you can do that, Nephews," the elder sachem said. "Though we find tracks closer and closer to the doors of our lodges each morning, whenever we try to follow those tracks they disappear."

The second hunter knelt down and patted the head of their small dog. "Uncle," he said, that is because they do not have a dog such as ours." He pointed to the two black circles above the eyes of the small dog. "Four-Eyes can see any tracks, even those many days old."

"May Creator's protection be with you," said the elder sachem.

"Do not worry. Uncle," said the third hunter. "Once we are on a trail we never stop following until we've finished our hunt." "That's why I think we should have something to eat first," said the fourth hunter, but his brothers did not listen. They nodded to the elder sachem and began to leave. Sighing, the fattest and laziest of the brothers lifted up his long spear and trudged after them.

They walked, following their little dog. It kept lifting up its head, as if to look around with its four eyes. The trail was not easy to find.

"Brothers," the fattest and laziest hunter complained, "don't you think we should rest. We've been walking a long time." But his brothers paid no attention to him. Though they could see no tracks, they could feel the presence of the Nyah-gwaheh. They knew that if they did not soon find its trail, it would make its way behind them. Then they would be the hunted ones.

The fattest and laziest brother took out his pemmican pouch. At least he could eat while they walked along. He opened the pouch and shook out the food he had prepared so carefully by pounding together strips of meat and berries with maple sugar and then drying them in the sun. But instead of pemmican, pale squirming things fell out into his hands. The magic of the Nyah-gwaheh had changed the food into worms.

"Brothers," the fattest and laziest of the hunters shouted, "let's hurry up and catch that big bear! Look what it did to my pemmican. Now I'm getting angry."

Meanwhile, like a pale giant shadow, the Nyah-gwaheh was moving through the trees close to the hunters. Its mouth was open as it watched them and its huge teeth shone, its eyes flashed red. Soon it would be behind them and on their trail.

Just then, though, the little dog lifted its head and yelped. "Eh-heh!" the first brother called.

"Four-Eyes has found the trail," shouted the second brother.

"We have the track of the Nyah-gwaheh," said the third brother.

"Big Bear," the fattest and laziest one yelled, "we are after you, now!"

Fear filled the heart of the great bear for the first time and it began to run. As it broke from the cover of the pines, the four hunters saw it, a gigantic white shape, so pale as to appear almost naked. With loud hunting cries, they began to run after it. The great bear's strides were long and it ran more swiftly than a deer. The four hunters and their little dog were swift also though and they did not fall behind. The trail led through the swamps and the thickets. It was easy to read, for the bear pushed everything aside as it ran, even knocking down big trees. On and on they ran, over hills and through valleys. They came to the slope of a mountain and followed the trail higher and higher, every now and then catching a glimpse of their quarry over the next rise.

Now though the lazy hunter was getting tired of running. He pretended to fall and twist his ankle.

"Brothers," he called, "I have sprained my ankle. You must carry me."

So his three brothers did as he asked, two of them carrying him by turns while the third hunter carried his spear. They ran more slowly now because of their heavy load, but they were not falling any further behind. The day had turned now into night, yet they could still see the white shape of the great bear ahead of them.

They were at the top of the mountain now and the ground beneath them was very dark as they ran across it. The bear was tiring, but so were they. It was not easy to carry their fat and lazy brother. The little dog, Four-Eyes, was close behind the great bear, nipping at its tail as it ran.

"Brothers," said the fattest and laziest one. "put me down now. I think my leg has gotten better."

The brothers did as he asked. Fresh and rested, the fattest and laziest one grabbed his spear and dashed ahead of the others. Just as the great bear turned to bite at the little dog, the fattest and laziest hunter leveled his spear and thrust it into the heart of the Nyah-Gwaheh. The monster bear fell dead.

By the time the other brothers caught up, the fattest and laziest hunter had already built a fire and was cutting up the big bear.

"Come on, brothers," he said. "Let's eat. All this running has made me hungry!"

So they cooked the meat of the great bear and its fat sizzled as it dripped from their fire. They ate until even the fattest and laziest one was satisfied and leaned back in contentment. Just then, though, the first hunter looked down at his feet.

"Brothers," he exclaimed, "look below us!"

The four hunters looked down. Below them were thousands of small sparkling lights in the darkness which. they realized, was all around them.

"We aren't on a mountain top at all," said the third brother. "We are up in the sky."

And it was so. The great bear had indeed been magical. Its feet had taken it high above the earth as it tried to escape the four hunters. However, their determination not to give up the chase had carried them up that strange trail.

Just then their little dog yipped twice.

"The great bear!" said the second hunter. "Look!"

The hunters looked. There, where they had piled the bones of their feast the Great Bear was coming back to life and rising to its feet. As they watched, it began to run again, the small dog close on its heels.

"Follow me," shouted the first brother. Grabbing up their spears, the four hunters again began to chase the great bear across the skies.

So it was, the old people say, and so it still is. Each autumn the hunters chase the great bear across the skies and kill it. Then, as they cut it up for their meal, the blood falls down from the heavens and colors the leaves of the maple trees scarlet. They cook the bear and the fat dripping from their fires turns the grass white.

If you look carefully into the skies as the seasons change, you can read that story. The great bear is the square shape some call the bowl of the Big Dipper. The hunters and their small dog (which you can just barely see) are close behind, the dipper's handle.

When autumn comes and that constellation turns upside down, the old people say. "Ah, the lazy hunter has killed the bear." But as the moons pass and the sky moves once more towards spring, the bear slowly rises back on its feet and the chase begins again.

roleplaying

2011-11-03T10:26:00.000-07:00

For a couple of months now I've been batting around the idea of starting up my own roleplaying site. I have ideas for concept, location, and even a few of the basic rules. I know what I'd want to limit or restrict, and what I wouldn't care about people doing, and I have some ideas for storylines, even.

I've been holding off on making a real decision until the new year, because I want to see where I stand financially and timewise and stuff. However, the idea refuses to be forgotten, so it continues to rattle around in my head, much like a lot of other things I want to do.

Recently, I found out that a certain roleplaying site has kind of erupted in a fit of anger and chaos, stemming from friction I kind of figured would arise between the playerbase and the site's admins. Hopefully the people who're unhappy will do what the original group of dissenters did, and go off to make their own place to play, with their own rules and stuff.

This recent development has sort of stirred up this idea I've had stewing about my own site, though. Mostly it just raises questions.

Should I make my own site? Would people actually be interested in it? It's possible. I mean, I heard from more than a few people that I was a popular player on ChicagoDusk. If I build it, people will probably come.

So, do I really want to do that?

I won't lie. The reason why I would want to make this happen right now is that it would give me great pleasure to steal a chunk of this other site's playerbase and make it my own. I'm selfish like that. That's a terrible reason to take on the responsibilities of creating and running a gaming website, though. A better reason is that I really, honestly want to make a place where it's fun to play, which was the reason why I had the idea in the first place. Other than that, though, there are other things that take precedence in my life right now, like:

* I want to concentrate on original story ideas
* I need to stop being a coward and get the info I need about going to college
* I'm working two jobs for the holidays, and hopefully longer, while I sort out my financial situation
* Any change in my financial situation is first going toward furniture
* And if I still have a pretty good financial situation after that, any site I make will probably be used for other things (like, oh, making a webcomic or something)
* Everything else in the world
* Anything that somehow doesn't fit into those above bullets

Also, I'm self-aware enough to realize that I'm stressed out from real life and looking for some kind of escape, when really I just need to put on my big girl panties and deal with all the things I've got going on right now.

So, I'm back to waiting to see how I feel in January. IF gaming is still an itch I'd like to scratch, and IF I have the time, and IF I have the money, then maybe I'll look into what it takes to build my own little empire.

creativity EXPLOSION

2011-10-28T10:31:00.000-07:00

I started writing in junior high. I don't remember what I used to write, I just remember that I had a notebook that I kept for these things, and that this kid I had a crush on, I think his name was Zach (and he was DREAMY (though not dreamy enough for me to be certain of his name nearly twenty years later)) asked me about it. As did a teacher, I think.

Anyway. I started writing in junior high. I had dreams and aspirations of becoming a writer someday, like Anne McCaffrey or Tanith Lee or something. I don't remember anything I wrote back then, I just know that I wrote a lot.

In high school I had ideas for my first real story. Honestly, if I'd heard the term before I would've realized that my first real idea was basically fanfiction based on The Heroic Legend of Arslan anime. I didn't, though, so I shamelessly stole two characters, a part of the plot, and created what I now believe was probably a Mary Sue, and I got to crackin' on it. Gradually the characters started to take on their own shapes, and became less and less like their anime origins. The story evolved a lot, too. I took lots of notes, but, I never wrote more than a prologue and maybe part of a first chapter. Then life sucked for me. I worked in soul- and creativity-destroying retail and I had financial woes that I brought on myself but were in no way helped by living with family. Eventually the ideas faded, and I forgot most of it.

Lately, though, I've been kind of leisurely revisiting those ideas. I've forgotten almost everything beyond the relationship dynamic of the three main characters and the overarching plot line, but I've been musing over a particular scene for almost a week now.

Then today my creativity EXPLODED. I thought about one thing, which made me remember about a dozen more characters that I'd completely forgotten about. And that made me remember more of the plot, which brought up more characters. Luckily I have a job that requires internet access, and a job that means any kind of typing looks like I'm working and not slacking off. While trying to write myself an email of "things to be not forgetting" I've made more connections and realizations about people, cultures, the whole world I made in my head.

I still don't know what to do with it. A lot of what had me stopping with it before, besides the death of my creativity, was that I could never decide if I wanted to write it as a book series, or make it into a comic. I like to draw, but the idea of making a comic out of it is daunting. At the same time, I really love drawing my characters, especially this one right here (I ran out of words). There are even some alternate universe versions of her because somehow, no matter how diverse and unrelated the stories I came up with were, if I let them simmer in my head too long they all connected to this main one.

I think I would like to challenge myself to make it into a comic, thereby combining my need to tell this story with my need to keep drawing.

*steeples fingers*

I WANT TO GO HOME AND DO THIS RAIGHT NAO

seasonal work

2011-10-27T18:08:00.000-07:00

As some of you may or may not be aware, I've been semi-desperately looking for part-time work for a few months. I've thrown my applications to the winds, made some phone calls, thrown out some more applications, and generally been trying not to stress about money or how I'm going to pay for Christmas.

I went in for an interview at Macy's tonight, just after my regular job. My interview/hire 1:1 ratio remains untarnished as I was hired at the interview 'cause THAT'S HOW I ROLL AAAOOOO \m/ \m/ WE ARE WYLD STALLIONS *air guitar*

Whoops, got a little carried away there.

Anyway, there you have it. I'll be working recovery for the holidays, which means all cleaning up and displays and organization and no sales goals, which suits me fabulously, as I have always preferred the former to the latter in retail.

music!

2011-10-25T15:44:00.000-07:00

I used to be able to use Pandora radio to find interesting new music, usually on the days when I forgot to charge my mp3 player. Unfortunately, with a recent upgrade to a newer version of IE, I no longer have adobe anything in any of my browsers, and can't get them unless I talk to IT. I don't really know how I'd explain the need for a flash upgrade so that it sounds like I need it for work (other than morale, which may or may not fly). Anyway, I'm pretty sure that's how I found Portugal the Man.

I found this one through Sims 3.

Is the preview a shot of Kellis with her eyes not-all-the-way-closed for you guys? What the eff?

misery

2011-10-13T11:13:00.000-07:00

I'm in the midst of the worst allergy attack since I moved to Colorado. My face hurts so much from sinus pressure that I want to cry. It's ten times worse on the left side than the right, which you can maybe tell by looking at me because my left eye keeps watering up so much it looks like I am crying. I've wiped that eye so much that, regardless of how gentle I've tried to be, I've bruised the inside corner.

I want to go home ;_;

I can't go home because this afternoon the lady I work for in accounting is going to show me the stuff I'll be covering for her while she's out for three weeks recovering from surgery. Even if I left early, I'd probably just go get some stuff for my car done, anyway. I've taken some sinus medicine, but, it's not strong enough to make me even remotely comfortable.

I figured I'd blog about it, thus consolidating my whiny-ness and complaints, rather than constantly spam everyone I can get to about this. Mostly, I just want to say this:

MY FACE...HURTS.

;_;

munee

2011-10-12T11:16:00.000-07:00

Money has pretty much been the biggest stressor in my life since the dawn of time. Or rather, it has been ever since I had to start paying attention to it, right around the time my mom and step-dad forced me to get a part-time job in high school. It really started becoming an issue when I went off to college and did the usual dumb college things. I got credit cards (yes, plural) that I maxed and could never pay off. I wrote checks without keeping track of where my money was going, so a lot of them bounced. Most of my trouble with money these days comes from the fact I'm still paying for the mistakes of my youth, and I'm still struggling to get a handle on things like budgets and goals. I'm getting better at it, but I've still got a lot of lost ground to cover.

This year I finally got into a really awesome place financially. I had a savings account and it was gloriously full of money that I was afraid to spend because always whenever I manage to have a little cash to myself, something comes along and takes it all away. It did this time, too, but it was a little more planned. I bought a nice car that is just barely within my means to own. Immediately after getting it, I went on a big awesome road trip with my best friend. At the end of that month, my brother and I moved. All of these things cost money and lots of it, so I've been playing catch up and trying really hard to not regret doing any of those things ever since.

I crunched some numbers today, and while my situation still isn't anywhere near the magnitude of awesome it was for the first half of the year, it's not bad. It'd be real super awesome if I could get a part-time job for the holidays to help catch up and get ahead, but for some unknown reason no one's been calling me, even when they say they'll put a special note by my name. That doesn't irritate me at all. Anyway, I'm just relieved that a part-time job, while immensely helpful, isn't oh my god absolutely necessary or I'm going to lose everything.

Whew, relief!

new place

2011-10-10T09:46:00.000-07:00

It got kinda chilly in Denver this weekend. It actually snowed a little Saturday morning, but was gone a couple hours later. Something that we've discovered about our new place, something that we were really really really hoping for but wouldn't find out until it got a little chilly out, is that it's pretty well insulated. At our old apartment, if it got a little cold, my room turned into a freezer, and it stayed that way no matter what we did with the heater. I've got a picture somewhere of me in a hoody with the hood drawn up, fingerless gloves on, hands hovering over a candle for warmth. I think that picture sums up pretty well how horrible that apartment was.

This new place, though. So far, the only times we turned on the air conditioner were the nights when our neighbors hung out on their balconies smoking, and we wanted to seal ourselves in. Despite how chilly it was over the weekend, we never turned on the heater, we didn't need to. At some point I was standing in the doorway of Chris' room talking about his new bed, when I suddenly got really gleeful.

"You know what I just realized? We haven't needed the heater on!"

"I know! How did we go from one place without a/c to another place without a/c to this place?"

"I don't know. I wish we'd found this place first."

It's weird, too, because even without a heater on, my room got too hot to bear last night. I slept with my balcony door open for about half the night, when it finally did get too cold and I had to close it. You wouldn't even be able to tell I'd done anything this morning.

Except right now. I've got the balcony door open again. Sasha and Kalypso are huddled close to it, looking outside -- no wait, Sasha's just come in to bother me. It's still a little chilly out (Google tells me it's 52, which is within my perfect temperature range), but it feels totally comfortable inside.

I love this place =]

finished!

2011-10-05T23:24:00.000-07:00

Her scars were almost as much of a bitch to draw as they were to describe in scenes.

Excuse me while I pass out for a while *flops*

WIP: Joey

2011-10-05T18:57:00.000-07:00

I drew today. Rather than simply slapping a picture on here, standing back, and waiting for the onslaught of praise and admiration to wash over me, I thought I'd walk you guys through a bit of the process I went through to finish the piece.

I've been wanting to do something like this for a long time, like a year or something, probably longer. The image I had in my head was always of Joey, my character from Werewolf: The Apocalypse, in motion, preferably in the middle of an attack. That was the kind of character she was, constantly in motion, always ready for action, and loving a good fight. By the time she finished on the now defunct ChicagoDusk site she had a lot of scars, both externally and internally, but, when she started she was really young and fresh and vibrant. I wanted to capture that, but, every time I opened my sketchbook and tried to draw her I couldn't get the image in my head to translate onto paper.

Today, I dunno, I just had this sudden need to get this done. I went through a lot of poses, a lot with her having delivered a blow with her bat, legs out, arms down, like Sakura when she activated one of the Clow Cards in Card Captor Sakura (geek! (shut up!)). Every time I tried it, my skills weren't quite up to the task, but, also it just didn't feel right. In that position, Joey's body was dynamic, but, folded inwards. It was too closed off, which didn't feel like the character to me. I scoured the internet for more reference pics, took some of my own, and got to work on something else.

And thus, I was finally able to draw this:

Lines'll get cleaned up and her expression tweaked as I color. Not bad considering the last time I really drew anything was a year ago, when I did some really crappy sketches of my WtA characters in ridiculous situations.

more on activism

2011-10-03T16:00:00.000-07:00

My friends are awesome! After my last post on activism, a friend sent me the below.

Sanity Denver
I'm still trying to figure out Reddit so I can contact the organizer, but keep your eyes peeled for sanitydenver.com, which will hopefully go live soon.
Edit: Ah haha I just found the "send message button" woo!
The gist: They want to establish a group to check local politicians, call them on their bullshit if or when they lie, and kudos them when they do something good for our city/state.

I've also been coming across more articles on the Occupy Wall Street movement. For instance, their declaration.
For the tl;dr:

To the people of the world,

We, the New York City General Assembly occupying Wall Street in Liberty Square, urge you to assert your power.

Exercise your right to peaceably assemble; occupy public space; create a process to address the problems we face, and generate solutions accessible to everyone.

To all communities that take action and form groups in the spirit of direct democracy, we offer support, documentation, and all of the resources at our disposal.

Join us and make your voices heard!

And on that note, I've heard nothing but not-good things about the Occupy Denver side of this movement. People who were able to participate in their general assembly and their rally/march on Saturday have been saying that the group is very disorganized and refuses to create a leadership position. Now, it's possible that for some people this system works. I haven't looked into it yet, but I hope the people somehow organizing these things are remaining leaderless in hopes of a grand high poobah master chief heading the New York movement and will go from there. If they don't, or if Occupy Denver isn't, I dunno. That just kind of sounds like a headless chicken scenario otherwise.

And lastly, Kai pointed me to Miss Representation, a documentary about the under-representation of women in positions of power and media. I'm going to try and see it when it's out.

sexual preference

2011-10-03T11:28:00.000-07:00

Let me start this off by telling you all that I don't understand sexual preference, especially as it pertains to other people. Sexual preference isn't something I'm really comfortable, and therefore all that great at, talking about because I know that other people don't understand it, either. I think this is why we get all the hooplah over gays doing pretty much anything. People just don't understand, and most people aren't open-minded enough to try.

I think it takes a very open mind to understand people with a sexual preference other than one's own. Too often I've seen or heard of people saying, "If you like this type of person, then you must like all people like that." Like, a lesbian must be attracted to ALL women. A gay man must find ALL men attractive. If these (mostly, but not always, straight) people would only internalize this thought process and ask themselves, "If my preference is the opposite gender, does that mean I'm attracted to everyone of that gender?" they'd maybe understand a little better.

I identify as pansexual. For those of you who aren't familiar with the term, Wikipedia explains:

Pansexuality (also referred to as omnisexuality or polysexuality) refers to the potential for sexual attractions, sexual desire, romantic love, or emotional attraction, towards people of all gender identities and biological sexes. Self-identified pansexuals may refer to themselves as gender-blind—that gender and sex are insignificant or irrelevant in determining whether they will be sexually attracted to others. The Oxford English Dictionary writes that pansexuality "encompasses all kinds of sexuality; not limited or inhibited in sexual choice with regards to gender or activity."

The concept of pansexuality deliberately rejects the gender binary, the idea that there are only two genders, as pansexual people are open to relationships with people who do not identify as strictly men or women. Pansexuality can also mean the attraction to a person's personality, rather than their physical appearance or gender.*

* I didn't include the annotations, you can click the link and check them out for yourself.

What does that mean for me, exactly? For me, everything points to that last sentence, and gets proven again and again as I continue to fall for people online before I've learned their gender or seen what they look like. What's on the outside really doesn't make much difference to me.

Do I have a type? Absolutely. People I'm attracted to on sight tend to be dudes who are tall (as in, giant, I prefer guys over 6'), have dark (brown or black) thick hair, strong bone structure, light eyes, and are relatively fit (I have actually spent a lot of time thinking about this, wondering why I was attracted to people I wouldn't think I'd be attracted to). I blame this on growing up watching old movies, where Rock Hudson towers over his leading ladies even when they wear heels. I'm also really attracted to Asians, particularly Japanese apparently. However, I've had crushes and attractions to all kinds of other people. My first love was stocky and shorter than me. I tend to gravitate toward geeky guys, who are usually skinny and unfit. I like blonds and redheads, too. I've been attracted to blacks, Europeans, women, whatever. Why? Because I'm a firm believer that it's what's inside that really matters. The traits that win me over are in the mind. Humor, intelligence, wit...especially humor. If you can make me laugh there's a slight chance I'll get a crush on you. And lately I've been trying this thing where I don't go after assholes.

The reason why I don't like to talk about my sexual preference much stems from the time I first identified as pansexual. I heard about it from a former gaming buddy of mine, who used it to describe a character I used to roleplay. When I realized it was a trait all of my characters shared I stopped, took a look at myself and went, huh. Guess it's me. I was talking about it with this former friend of mine one night when I got the distinct impression she thought I should be interested in her. That's when I got the message I stated above, that people who identify a certain way must be attracted to everyone. Or something like that. Anyway, she seemed pretty butthurt when I shut her down.

And that is why I haven't liked talking about it with people outside my close-knit triangle of friends, because I don't like the weird looks or the assumptions people make about me. Which is kind of silly when I thought about it.

I'm pansexual. There, I said it. Again, heh.

Does this mean I might fall in love with a woman, or a pre-op transgender, or an alien? Probably, if they're funny, witty, intelligent, and we have chemistry. The outside is just the candy shell that coats the awesome stuff inside. Does that mean I could be attracted to anyone on the entire planet? Abso-fucking-lutely not. That candy shell might be hiding an almond or a peanut. Sorry if you like peanut M&Ms or almonds in your candy bars or walnuts in your brownies, I don't. That's just my preference, and there's nothing wrong with mine being different from yours.

today

2011-10-01T23:33:00.000-07:00

Today was not as awesome as I'd hoped it would be, but that doesn't mean it was bad. I found out yesterday that Occupy Denver was having a rally/march today, and I was super excited to go. The movement so far doesn't have a lot of direction, I think they just came up with a purpose statement but I haven't checked it out yet. Unfortunately, when my brother, Chris, and I were doing our final push to get everything out of our old apartment, I pushed my body beyond its comfort zone. And by "beyond its comfort zone" I mean that after going up and down stairs to the third floor and back about fifty times in a week, my left knee had finally had enough. This morning was the first time in a couple days that it wasn't feeling OMG-full-of-pain, but it wasn't all the way better so I didn't want to push it.

Instead I played Age of Empires Online for hours. The language filter includes words formed even with spaces. For example, it filtered "but it" and "beat it," turning those phrases into something like, "bu%@!" and "be#@%!" It was ridiculous, and I finally turned the filter off.

I probably would've played it all day, but I made plans to go over to my friend, Wes', place to play some Gears of War 3. I learned that I still suck horribly at first-person shooters, and that I still wholeheartedly believe that they SHOULD ONLY BE ON PC.

Ahem.

I'm just not good at aiming. On the console, aiming a gun is like trying to aim with a thirty foot, twenty pound pole. It's so awkward and clunky. I have no idea how people actually get good at those game. One of Wes' friends joined in online, and after a few rounds spent thoroughly embarrassing myself, I bolted for home to hide my shame. Actually, I was just really tired, and I get bored and/or frustrated playing games that I'm not good at and don't see any improvement in my abilities.

I'm still really tired, in spite of accidentally falling asleep for about forty minutes, so I'm going to go lay down and try to fall asleep on purpose.

Activism

2011-09-30T13:34:00.000-07:00

I admit it. In my younger days, I didn't know a damn thing about what was going on in the rest of the world. I was in high school in Indiana when the Columbine massacre happened, but it wasn't until I moved to Colorado that I learned where that was, exactly. Since then I've also learned that the columbine is a very pretty flower, one that after that Google search I'm realizing I've actually seen on some hikes. Huh.

In my twenties I didn't give a shit about politics at all. I knew I was a Democrat because I agreed with what the party represented. I voted for Gore because I liked what I saw of his ideals and plans in the paper over breakfast the morning of the 2000 presidential election. It was my first, and if it hadn't been for my mom pushing me to take part in "such a momentous milestone" I probably would've just blown it off. I do remember being bummed that Gore didn't win, though. Anyway, it was hard to really give a damn about the wider world when my own was such crap. For most of that decade I was living with my mom, paycheck to paycheck (barely, and sometimes unsuccessfully), in crappy retail jobs that only worsened my self-esteem and sense of self-worth.

Then, sometime over the last year or so, I started to care. It started small, with something I think often disappears into the shadow of Big Important Issues. It started with gaming. As a grown ass gaming woman, I feel it's important to protect my right to play whatever games I want (and also the rights of other gamers to play whatever they want, that's kind of how these things work), but, also to protect kids from playing the games they shouldn't be playing. The Video Game Voters Network let's me do a little of that. Through them I spoke out about Jack Thompson, and I've weighed in on whether or not ESRB ratings actually work. They do, so long as people pay attention to them. I have some fairly disturbing stories from my time at EB Games. Honestly, some people should not become parents.

Which brings me to another thing I support: Planned Parenthood. PP is a company I've loved since I was eighteen. As an uninsured, broke college student, I was able to go in for a checkup and snag several months' worth of birth control for super cheap. So, I know that while they get all kinds of crap for their abortion services, most of their efforts focus on keeping unplanned or unwanted pregnancies from happening in the first place (And that's not all they do.). As someone who was once in need of those services, of course I'm going to help them however I can. That eventually branched out to overall women's health care, and I found and started signing petitions on Change, which I think led to MoveOn. It might have been the other way around, I don't remember and it doesn't matter.

The point is, now I'm thirty and I'm finally paying attention. I'm proud to do what I can for women's health and equal rights. Even though I don't game as much as I used to, I still support gamer's rights, too. But, I don't want to be an armchair activist, just sitting at a desk and clicking a button to add my name to a list that may or may not be recognized. The fact that Troy Davis was executed despite massive worldwide outcry breaks my heart, but, it's not going to stop me. It just makes me want to try that much harder to help make a difference in this unbalanced world we live in.

I want to join PFLAG and march in a Pride parade in support of the people I love who get discriminated against simply because of who they love. I wish I hadn't missed Occupy Denver. I think I'll try and go to the next meeting for The American Dream Movement. I want to be a body added to the masses, standing beside others who want to fight for the same things I want to fight to protect or win.

I think it's this, not my age or my social status or my job, that really makes me feel like I'm finally an adult.

The introduction

2011-09-30T11:18:00.000-07:00

I don't have a great track record with these bloggity blogs. I've had some actual for reals book-type journals, with pages that can cut you and everything. I've been on Xanga, LiveJournal, I've even had another Blogger blog. They all eventually peter out into nothingness, mostly because something will grab my attention and consume my world, and I'll forget those things ever existed. I expect the same will happen to this one, but who knows, maybe this time I'll keep with it¹.

Why create another one, when it's more than likely doomed to fail? I'm glad you asked, stranger! I realized today that I have Shit To Say™, and Twitter (my preferred social network at the moment) isn't the best forum for long-winded rants or verbose ponderings on the workings of the world. And it's not the place for thoughts that are longer than 140 characters. Also, I like to write, and the outlet that I used to satisfy that craving has been a bit tainted, and isn't terribly viable anymore.

Why the name? Because my nickname is Monki, and I like to think I'm pretty SMRT (because I shop at S-Mart (hahahaha)).

Anyway.

With that boring stuff out of the way, here we go!

¹. I say this every time. I actually had it written on the first page of one of those papercut-inducing-journals