Akaysha Foxborough

Meet Origami.

Mon, 16 Aug 2004 17:49:45 GMT

This is Origami:

He's about 4 weeks old, and his teeth just came in last week. We found him abandoned in our garage, with no sign of his mother or littermates, and crawling with fleas. He was depressed and scared, but would purr when anyone would hold him. Because we weren't home during the week, he stayed with my friend Amy, who flea-bathed him and fattened him up a bit. I took him back on weekends, and obviously fell for his cute act.

When his hair started coming in a little fuller, we realized he would be a long-haired cat, and Amy (who has severe cat allergies) couldn't keep him. I couldn't either, as my house is quite overrun with cats as it is. So, we decided to call a shelter, because we were sure he'd be adopted quickly. And in the meantime, maybe he'd have other kittens to play with, or (best case) a nursing cat who would take him in with her litter.

We called 10 shelters. They were full, because it's kitten season. I didn't know kittens had seasons... We called an 11th shelter: the Orange County Animal Care Center. We could drop him off , but they charge a $57 fee. Okay, that sucks, but to have him go to a place where they'll take care of him, it's worth it. They'll neuter him, give him his shots, and then see that he gets adopted by a good home for that fee, so we agree and pack him up to take him there. He cries, Amy and I try not to.

Friday night, we pull up, talk to the woman that meets us at the gate. She invites us in and we fill out paperwork. She gets him out of the carrier, comments on how well-fed he is and how cute he is. She sets him in a rusty metal cage. I ask if we can leave his towel with him, because it's familiar and he's more comfortable with it to sleep on. She says no, they can't take any personal effects, and then, "You do know we're going to have to destroy him, right?"

Huh?! Yeah, he's too young to be adopted and too young to have his vet work done. So they can't care for him for four weeks till he's old enough. You know, the CARE Center can't CARE for him. ...I take him back and tell her "No, we didn't know. No thanks, then." So, we're driving home and don't know what to do. Amy suggests Petco, as they do pet adoptions, rather than pet sales, so maybe they'll take him.

We stop at Petco and tell the cashier our story, still upset at "You do know we're going to have to destroy him, right?" from the last place. The cashier, two other cashiers and two groomers come over to look at him and are all horrified by what the shelter said. I ask if they can take him. They say they work with another shelter: Pet Pro Life, but the shelter won't have reps at their store until the 28th. The cashier says she'll take him home with her. And that her cat is about to have kittens and is probably ready to nurse. It's perfect. We say goodbye and never see Ori again. It's sad, but... Well, there is no but; it's just sad.

I'm not as drunk as you think I am...

Sun, 28 Mar 2004 17:10:54 GMT

Wow...

Note to self: Don't try to match shot for shot with your brother. You'll lose.

Last night, we had a little Texas Hold'em poker tournament, which involved much drinking. To make sure that no one was coherent enough to play well, we decided that the drink of the night should be Pan-Galactic Gargleblasters. For those of you not familiar with the drink, that means: 1 part Everclear, 4 parts Bombay Sapphire, 4 parts Wild Turkey, 2 parts tequila, 5 parts rum, and 2 parts Gatorade in a shot glass with a gummi worm. (I'm not willing to have real worms in my drink, thank you very much.)

Um... yeah... So I've never been that drunk before, but I won't lie and say I'll never do it again... I probably won't do it again tonight... =) I don't remember if I kicked something particularly hard or just slept wrong or what, but my left foot HURTS! I woke up about 2 hours ago, still drunk, and decided that I should not play poker when I've had:
2 Malibu & vanilla cokes
2 lemon rum & mountain dew
5 shots lemon rum
2 shots Malibu
3 Pan-Galactic Gargleblasters
4 shots Malibu & Everclear
... I think that was all of them.

Yeah, I puked... Shut up.

Highlight of the night: Why is it that the more drunk a drink will make you, the harder its name is to say? Case in point: the Pan-Galactic Gargleblaster. Garrett had trouble with this while sober, so his renditions were always amusing (at least when he used real words...). Such as the Panhandle Garfieldbutter, and the Nipple-tastic Sofabladder...

So who wants a drink? =P

Awwww....

Wed, 25 Feb 2004 21:07:02 GMT

The family just got bigger... (Of course, Glenn's still trying to convince me to get rid of the newest addition.) About a week ago, we saw a tiny black kitten dart into our garage. I lured it out with food, and it stayed out for a few days. It has been sitting on our porch crying for a couple days and it hid under our car during the rainstorm all night on Sunday. I let it back in the garage so that it could stay dry. When I got home from class Monday night, Glenn had let the cat into the house. (Tell me he doesn't want to keep him...) So, this is Edo:

Isn't he just the cutest? So friendly, too. Thanks, drkstdays for taking these pics (and lots more) for me! So, as a dutiful wife, I suppose I should say, "If anyone in the SoCal area is looking to adopt a kitten, I'd be happy to see it go to a good home."

Leave me a comment if you want to meet him and take him home with you. =)

Dreams...

Tue, 13 Jan 2004 18:17:57 GMT

I have been having strange dreams lately... And even when what I remember isn't all that strange, they still leave me with a weird creeped-out feeling when I wake up.

So, why post about it? I don't know... Maybe someone will see another link that I'm not seeing. Maybe I like disturbing people with these weird-but-very-long, rambly entries...

Warning: Explicit girly details ahead...
Okay, dream from Sunday night: I started my period. And I was in a lot of pain. And I had no supplies, so I was using a notecard that I wrote "extra absorbent" on with a marker. (Yeah... that should work just fine...) I also had a gyno appointment for the same day. My doctor said to just come in anyway and he'd just do a regular physical with no "internal" stuff... because it bothered me to think about him doing that while I was "gross"... So I went to this sprawling hospital with my mom and found our room. We waited for the doctor and then he came in and started asking questions about my health. He was incredibly handsome, but he was also respectful and not condescending, and he knew what he was doing (I guess this was an impression, not something I could know for sure). So I say it hurts like "holy shit!" and my mom gets really upset with me. And I tell him (between grimaces of pain) that my period only comes once a year (which is basically true) and he freaked out that I'd never done anything about it. So, he took an ultrasound of the whole area and then said that he wanted to try another test, which would scan for a certain type of estrogen and then 'listen' (with a miniature, vibrating microphone... don't ask why...) to my hormones to find out if everything was normal... But we listen to them, and I'm in love with them and their sweet, happy voices, even though they're trying to tell me that something is wrong. And then I don't want to stop listening to them, because they make me so happy, and I'm cuddling with the monitor that we're listening to/watching them with... (I don't know where the fuck any of that came from.)
My mom used a pattern out of a book to paint a camoflage pattern on my husband's dog (a bassett hound/weiner dog mix... which doesn't exist IRL, because Glenn hates dogs). She was upset that she'd gotten confused with the pattern and painted a couple spots incorrectly. Also in that dream, lighting a giant oil candle in the trunk of someone's car, because we weren't allowed to have a campfire in the fire pit. Diving into a deep pool of water with Glenn. (It was really pretty, a gorgeous blue with blue-gray crystal walls... but I don't remember anything else about that part of the dream.)

Last night's dream:
My uncle Chris and his wife adopted another child, and my uncle Steve and his wife did the same, at the same time. Steve adopted an infant, Chris adopted a 15 year old. And my uncles and their wives and my mom and dad were all gathered at my house to talk about everything related to their new children. So my uncle (who sells insurance for a living IRL) suggests that the children need life insurance and so do the adults. So he says we should call my mom (who also sells insurance IRL, but for a different company) and get a quote (even though my mom is in the room, but everyone else is ignoring her). Then, they start talking about what amount they want the insurance for, and I start taking down all the information, because I'm going to call my mom. They want $2.5million on each person. I go call my mom from another room and tell her what they want, and she goes ballistic that they're even doing this, because she wants to know who they think they're going to give custody to when they die. She runs into the room where everyone is, and they eventually calm her down and work something out. She gets custody of the baby if something happens to Steve's family. So, she offers to babysit (now that she knows this) and then immediately hands the baby off to me. I hold the baby and suggest we should go bike-riding. She says it sounds like fun, but then she and I look at each other and share these horrible visions of being hit by a car with the baby riding on the bike with us and then all three of us dying. She changes her mind about the bike ride and says that it's too risky for us to watch the baby, since if anything goes wrong, Steve will sue. So we give the baby back to my uncle (who in this dream, rather resembles a horrible dwarf-troll, but doesn't have that unfortunate appearance IRL) and as soon as the baby touches his hands, it starts screaming, and he says "Oh, you've gone and made him sensitive. Now I'll have to bathe him in slime again when we get home." Or something to the effect that the baby was used to his poisonous troll-ness, but being held by us made him un-used to that. And that was the end of the dream.

Buh? I am very confused. And a little disturbed by the thinly-veiled maternity themes that were happening in these two dreams (and more before then, but I don't remember them now). After a friend of Anee's referred her to the Dream Doctor, I checked it out, but I didn't find any info on the symbols I was most disturbed by.
~me

Why?

Thu, 04 Dec 2003 19:38:26 GMT

Why can't I say no? I try to be nice, and just offer polite reasons why someone else might be a better choice than me... and I still end up agreeing to whatever stupid request I get cornered into.

First, there's my last entry, about singing at the whole holiday party entertainment thing.

Then, yesterday, there was a real kick in the ass. My French teacher effectively punished me for being smart... See, it all started when she told us that our final project was a 15-minute group presentation/play in French, and she would be selecting the groups. This wouldn't really have been bad if it wasn't for her inane desire to "help" troublesome students by putting them in groups with better students. Not to be an egotistical bitch, but I've had French before, and she sees me as one of the better students in the class. So I was expecting to get lumped into the worst possible group... But for whatever reason, I ended up in a really good group. Except for one person, but the rest of us were really on track, so I was confident that it would all come together. At our weekly night rehearsals, the one person didn't ever show up (but she showed up for our bi-weekly afternoon rehearsals, so we were forgiving... sorta). So, I would play her part (since she and I were never "on-stage" at the same time). So, the night before the presentation, she calls to say she probably won't be there, since she's in Arizona... So...I have to play her part, which is something we'd mentioned to the teacher, and we mentioned it again the day of the performance. So, our group went first and I performed both parts, memorized, and felt really good about the overall project. I'm done for the semester, I'm just going to relax and watch all the other groups do their presentations now.

Wrong! Yesterday, my teacher asked if I would be willing to stand in for another group, because one of their members didn't show up. No big deal, stand there and read lines. I agree. Then she tells me that she's pushing their performance back till next week (because they're not ready) and wants to know if I can learn the lines so that I don't have to read them... Grr... I repeat again that I'd be happy to read them and then walk away. Later in the class (this was in front of the entire class that she was asking, by the way, which was an incredibly rude spot to put me in) the group tells me that they want to make some changes to their script - to make it better - and they want to know if I can come rehearse with them on Sunday night... It was definitely a WTF moment... I declined their generous offer to do their work for them and told them that they should email me the updated script. If they don't, that's their problem. So now, I'm expected to fulfill another person's responsibility on the project that I've already done two people's worth of work on, and gotten my grade on, because she knows I can do it. It's almost a compliment, but not quite.

And then, there was today... when I got asked again to do a performance for the holiday party (same person as before, even though she knows I already agreed to one...) She found me some other singers and wants me to do another performance, this time as a 50's-type all-girl group. It sounds like it might be reasonably fun, but I tell her I don't have time, because finals are coming up. She insists that I'll have time for weekend rehearsals. (Unpaid time at the office? On weekends? Wow, how can I say no?) ...No, really, I wanted to say no, but I just don't think she understands the word... But then, she tells me who they are... and laughs. She thinks that they sing horribly off-key... (which I think maybe she's thought about some other people before...) and that I should try and lead as much as possible. And she just thinks it'll be hilarious. So, in the name of creating something fun and amusing for the rest of my co-workers, she'd like to see me do something that terrifies me a little and will humilate me at the same time. Fucking hilarious... Bitch.

So, yeah. Time for me to grow a spine and say no when I don't really want to do something.

OMG! She updates!

Fri, 21 Nov 2003 22:48:26 GMT

Okay, so it's been a little while since my last update... oh, around five months or so. So, I'm just going to go through everything I've done since then:

...okay, no, I'm not. That stuff's all in the past. And I live here, in the present. =) Anyway, I have been asked... tricked, really... into performing at the company Christmas (excuse me, Holiday) Party. I sang last year, solo, and said I wouldn't ever do it again. Stage fright, ain't it a bitch? But this time, they've asked me to sing a duet... and I really do enjoy singing, as long as I'm not by myself... and basically, now I've agreed to it again this year.

So, now, I have to figure out a song... I know I have some musically talented people on my friends' list (and people who just know a lot of music, even if they don't consider themselves talented), so I thought I would ask for some suggestions. The theme of our ~~Christmas~~ Holiday Party is "A Rock-n-Roll Christmas" ... Don't try to understand political correctness... it's just the way things are. So, we're supposed to be choosing songs from the '50s and '60s, I believe, and I have no clue what good duets are out there. Do you? I'll give you candy! =)

Thanks!
~me

Hahaha

Wed, 11 Jun 2003 04:07:01 GMT

...So, having been a self-proclaimed grammar bitch for quite some time, I had to steal this one from girliusedtobe. =)

[take the test] - [by krystaljungle.com]

And, I guess it really is true. There was a line right above this image that said, "You are a elite grammar whore!" And I said outloud to the quiz, "No, I am an elite grammar whore." It's a grammar quiz, with a grammatical error in it. The ironing is delicious. =)

~Akaysha

Tue, 10 Jun 2003 01:32:21 GMT

I just got back from the dentist, and I have to say that my dentist makes me smile. Sure, it's a heavily-novocaine-injected half-smile, but I'm still smiling (even after my monitor blew up...)

I'm probably the only person in the world who can come home from a root canal and be smiling. But really, I am. He's been my dentist since I was 7 years old. I still remember the first time I went, he pulled one of my front teeth. My mom said it wouldn't hurt, and promised me ice cream if I cried... so OF COURSE I CRIED! It didn't really hurt though. =P And I'll admit, as a kid, I didn't have the greatest dental hygiene, but by the time I'd started taking care of them, we (my parents, the dentist, and I) realized that I had very weak enamel on my teeth, making them very prone to cavities. I'd started brushing 2-3 times a day, flossing, mouthwash, the whole deal. But it didn't make much difference. Many of my teeth were already in bad shape. So, my dad would drive me to the dentist every couple months and I'd have some work done. And while I was there, in the second-story office with the big windows that looked out over the trailer park across the street, waiting for the dentist (or waiting for the novocaine to kick in), I would watch the birds. Dozens of little sparrows would fly off the roof of the building, down into the street below, and then back up to land on the trailers. It was fascinating. Sometimes, they would drop so fast, I'd worry that they'd gotten hurt, but then, they'd fly back up just as fast, and I would smile. And the birds made me happy. They were always there, no matter what season it was or what the weather was like. If I was at the dentist, I knew there would be birds to watch.

And then, when I'd watched the birds for awhile, my dentist would come in and talk with me, careful that all the scary-looking tools were out of sight. He would tell me what we were going to do that day, and how long it would take. And I would just smile and nod, because I didn't really care. It was all pretty much the same to me. So, he would get to work, and he would always tell me that if it hurt, I should stop him, and he would say weird things like "Okay, this is going to feel like someone's ice-skating on your teeth. Ready?" And of course, it would feel like someone was ice-skating on my teeth, because I wanted to believe that's what it was. And after a few minutes of drilling, scraping, or whatever else he did, I would fall asleep. My mouth would just hang open and I would dream about being one of those tiny birds outside. He'd wake me up when he was finished, and I would rub the sleep out of my eyes and walk back out to the waiting room, where my dad would be reading magazines. I'd sit down on the nice soft couch and my dad would take care of the bill. And then, he'd help me up and we'd walk down the stairs, past all the trees where the birds would play when they weren't diving off the roof, and down to the car. We'd drive over to McDonalds, and I'd get a vanilla milkshake, every time. And then we'd laugh together while I tried to suck imitation ice cream through a straw without any feeling in my face. *drools*

I know it doesn't sound like much, but those times are cherished memories to me. And today, I went back to see Dr. Gold again, and had a little dental work done, for the first time in about 8 years. And the birds were still there, the drills were still ice-skating on my teeth (okay, maybe not, but I can still pretend), and I felt myself starting to get sleepy as soon as they strapped that little paper bib around me. And I stayed awake as long as I could, chatting with the dentist and catching up on old times. He gave me a bunch of novocaine (which I didn't even feel, because he's the best dentist in the world) and got to work on my sore tooth. And I didn't fall asleep, but I laid there the whole time, thinking about all the other times I've been there, and all the great memories I've got. And even though my face was being stretched more than I thought possible, I was still smiling inside. =)

But now, now the novocaine's starting to wear off, and I think it's time for a nap... or possibly a trip to Fry's to replace my kaput monitor. =P

~Akaysha

Kablamo!

Tue, 10 Jun 2003 00:38:45 GMT

So, I was in the process of typing another entry just now... and my monitor blew up... so I guess I'll be making a trip to Fry's this evening. Damn monitor... Anyway, now to try and recreate the entry I was working on before the big kablamo. =/

~Akaysha

Lord of the Rings: Reloaded...

Thu, 15 May 2003 21:16:19 GMT

So, I went to see the Matrix Reloaded last night, and I won't give any spoilers, because I think you should see it for yourself and draw your own conclusions, but I do have to share one particularly funny after-movie joke.

(approximately how it went, since it was late and I don't remember so well, hehe)

Glenn: You know, this movie kind of parallels Lord of the Rings, specifically to Return of the King.

Me: Really? Like what?

Glenn: You know, the whole world is gonna die, everyone will be destroyed, whole races wiped out, unless this ONE GUY can do this ONE THING to stop it... and there's SO MANY ways it can go wrong.

Me: Haha, okay, I see that too.

Jared: Yeah, but Frodo is no comparison to Neo...

Glenn: Well, Frodo's not too bad as Neo, but Sam is no Trinity.

(at this point, I just about peed my pants, and it's possible that you won't see the humor in this, but I thought it was fucking hilarious. maybe it was the image of a fat little hobbit boy in a black vinyl catsuit with his hair all slicked back and wearing sunglasses...oh yeah, and making hot sex with Keanu Reeves... hahahaha)

~Akaysha

Life in a cubicle....

Tue, 08 Apr 2003 20:47:41 GMT

Looking at the cubicle-sprawl around me, I realized something. There is absolutely nothing on my desk that identifies me personally. Sure, there's a nameplate, and a giant water bottle. A pair of gloves and a dirty hot chocolate mug. A packet of oatmeal and a valentine from Drkstdays, but nothing that really screams "THIS IS WHO I AM!" The desks on either side of me are covered with personality, and I'm jealous! But what could I do to my desk to make it more me?

Some options I thought of, and why they won't work:
1. Wallpaper: No walls that aren't cubicle, so that would be a bit tough.
2. A plant: I'd kill that thing faster than some sort of fast-killing thing... Well, I'd kill it, and let's just leave it at that. And how much personality does that show to have a dead plant on my desk? So, no plants.
3. Pictures: Well, this seems like a good idea. The desk on my left is a flurry of pictures, so I could add a few of my kitties and my hubby. But what if the cleaning people knock them over? Or move them?! God, I couldn't handle having to rebuild my picture-empire every day. So what if it was just ONE picture... how do I choose? I would have to have a picture taken specifically for my desk, just so I can get it the way I'd want it. And since Glenn would never stand for posing with three cats (let alone getting the three of them to pose...) I don't think this option will work either!
4. A book I've been meaning to read, or one that will show the depth of my personality, just by sitting there: hmm... Well, unfortunately, the entire Encyclopedia Britannica won't fit on my desk... so I guess that's out, too.

Well, it's obvious that this just isn't working! How am I supposed to come up with anything by explaining the reason I can't use something?! For now, I'm simply going to brainstorm some ideas and then sort them out later. Here goes:
a painting, a musical instrument, a telephone, a fish tank, a pottery wheel, a stuffed toy, a typewriter, a pinball machine, an ant farm, a television, a blender, a mini-fridge, a candy dish, a stereo, an erotic sculpture, a window, a bowling ball, a bathroom scale, an elephant--

I've got it! The perfect thing! The only thing that is capable of defining my whole personality, covering all my interests, and still fits on my desk! I don't know why I didn't think of it till now... But it's perfect! My desk can now be completely personalized with the one thing that captures most of my time, covers most of my interests, and is completely flexible if my interests should ever change! A computer! It has everything I need in desk-personalization! Communication, Art, Entertainment, Travel, Shopping, News, Humor, Culture, Porn! How can it get any better than that? Well, I'm off to buy a computer to put on my desk next to my computer...

Okay, not really. But I'm still looking for the perfect way to personalize my work space.

So, what's on your desk? What does it say about you?

~Akaysha

Luck o' the Irish to ya!

Mon, 17 Mar 2003 21:13:13 GMT

Happy St. Patrick's Day, everyone!

Hairjournal Update:
As of Thursday night, my hair was a pretty blonde color... BUT... Since today is St Patty's day and all, I got into the spirit and my pretty blonde became Gorgeous Green!!! (okay, so the text-color doesn't really do it justice... it's much more gorgeous than that! =P

~Akaysha

As Promised...

Sat, 01 Mar 2003 08:40:12 GMT

I promised myself (and anyone who actually reads this) that I would make a REAL post tonight... well, my sense of time is screwy so I'm actually posting this tomorrow morning. =P And really, the whole reason I wanted to post was because I wanted to say that my husband is the biggest sweetheart in the whole world.

I was having kind of a crappy week, feeling a touch of the flu and more than a touch of the vicious-bitch-from-beyond-my-consciousness... Anyway, I really didn't deserve to be treated nicely, because I certainly wasn't being nice. And Glenn, the Prince-Charming that he is, was still amazingly wonderful to me. A couple days ago, after basically ripped into him every time he talked to me and I had sulked off to bed without saying goodnight, this is what happened:

Our alarm went off at 6:30am, and he just laid there, hitting the snooze button every 9 minutes, and cuddling with me. He laid there in bed with me, rubbing my back and telling me how much he loves me. It was so reassuring, and so comfortable... If I didn't think I'd get fired for it, I'd have called in sick and stayed with him like that all day. I love him so much!

But that wasn't the end of it! Later that day, after I had still resisted forgiving him and been a snotty bitch to him on the drive to work, my boss left for lunch. Right about the same time, Glenn called. I was worried that something had gone wrong, but he said he was just calling because he missed me. Because he missed me!

Anyway, the whole point of this post is that I'm madly in love with my husband, and I haven't really done a great job of showing it lately. Oh well, I'm sure this could make up for it... *evil grin*

~Akaysha

Hair Update

Fri, 28 Feb 2003 21:52:58 GMT

Well, the hair color has been changed again (for almost a week already, I'm just lazy and haven't posted it till now)... If I keep this up I'll be bald soon! Well, probably not, but I'll at least end up with that weird brownish green color that paint-water always ends up when you wash your brush off too many times... =P Previous color = Virgin Cherry,

which faded to approximately this color. . .

This color + True Blue = New Color!

It's pretty cool, kind of a rainbow-y effect, pink at the roots (only a little, hardly noticable except on the hairs that fall out...) then purple, then blue at the ends. I like it, and after all, that's the reason I do it... that and two higher-ups at work both asked if I was ever going to do blue again. And by higher-ups, I mean the Human Resources manager and the CEO... so I thought it might be worth my trouble... *wink* So, aren't you glad you read my hairjournal?

...

Well, okay, I'll post a real update tonight. I promise. =)

~Akaysha

Random thinking is harder than I thought...

Wed, 29 Jan 2003 23:16:13 GMT

nurturing salty eyes machines dance acetone concrete eggshells caravan temporary fallout denial opportunity removed trauma lily knack inconsistency anomaly downtrodden rags petrified kleenex diesel soaking soul drippings revolution traffic angel flames dancing machines sputter unpredictably tangled hydrant choke...

Man, I really REALLY REALLY suck at this whole stream of consciousness thing. Really. Hehe. Well, maybe someday that will become the world's deepest poem... but for now, it's the world's deepest pile of crap. Don't get stuck in it. If you want to add to my randomness, feel free. =P

~Akaysha

Well, not quite according to plan...

Sun, 26 Jan 2003 08:05:47 GMT

I planned on dying my hair Candy Pink... but when I checked out the in-store samples, it looked more like Frilly Girlie Pink. So, I decided that might not be a good color. =P So, instead, I selected a color based on the samples (which I shouldn't have done because they're not exactly accurate) and I got a slightly redder color... well... a lot redder, called Virgin Cherry. But it should fade to a very cool pink in a couple washes. So I have VERY red hair now. Very. =) And I like it. A lot. Yay!

~Akaysha

It's that time again!

Fri, 24 Jan 2003 23:19:13 GMT

That's right! It's time to dye my hair! My hair has been a variety of colors, sometimes many colors at once (depending on how lazy I am, or how badly I botch the coloring job. I have never intentionally dyed my hair more than one color at a time). Because my hair has already been brown, blonde, red, REALLY red, and blue, I have chosen something new: Pink. After several hours of research (while I probably should have been working), I have narrowed my color choices down to four. All the possibilities are non-chemical dyes (because my hair is already quite damaged from regular bleaching) and non animal-tested (because I don't want to think about pink bunnies and blue lab mice). So, the color in the bottle is a pretty good indicator of the actual color. As a representation based on the approximate color in the bottle, here are my choices. Probably least likely, but still a possibility is: fuschia fatale. A little more likely is: atomic pink. Those two are mostly for comparison, as I have almost no intention of using either of them. But this one is my favorite, and it looks like a fun color: candy pink or, if they don't have that one, I will try: cupcake pink. I am going to pick up the dye after work today, and hopefully, my hair will be dyed before the weekend is over. =)

~Akaysha

Caution: Violent Mood Swings!

Tue, 14 Jan 2003 22:34:01 GMT

Well, my sweetie just called. He got the job! Yay! I am so excited! He starts training tomorrow and working full time next week. Now I can stop hating those HR people. =) Which is good, because hate makes a person icky inside.
Well, everything will be better now. Money won't be such a huge problem, and we'll have enough money to pay the rent and eat this month! =)

~Akaysha

Still Pissed.

Mon, 13 Jan 2003 22:29:08 GMT

Okay, just heard from my honey. The stupid company that he's still waiting to get a job with (if we weren't broke, I'd tell him not to bother with these bastard fucks) has now delayed him at least another day. They are waiting for the results of his background check - still. And the woman who will eventually tell him whether or not he has the job has just told him that their fax machine is apparently broken, as they have not been receiving faxes for the last few days. Well, as the job my husband is waiting for is TECHNICAL SUPPORT... it seems they need him more desperately than ever... but fuck their needs. He needs this job. And they are being such asses that they can't give him a simple yes or no answer! Dammit! Well, if there was anything I could do about it, I wouldn't resort to such childish name-calling as the "Naughty naughty bad people!" Nor would I resort to such low-brow commentary as "Fuck the fuckers for not fucking making up their fucking minds or realizing their fucking fax was broken three fucking days ago." Ah, such is life. Fuck them.

~Akaysha

People suck.

Mon, 13 Jan 2003 21:27:20 GMT

My honey should have called me by now. He's waiting on a job offer, and they're supposed to have an answer for him by today. They were supposed to have an answer for him last friday, but they told him they were still waiting on the results of his background check. So he's calling them back today to see if they've figured out that he's not a criminal, yet. (Not that he's going to someday be a criminal, but whether they've figured out yet that he's not a criminal) So, because he has not called, and it is now half an hour after he promised he would call, I have to assume that they have declined to offer him a job, or postponed telling him that they have declined to offer him a job for a few more days. Fuck them! I hate people. If job history is also part of this background check, as I assume it is, they should just realize that if they haven't gotten the answers they want from his references yet, they'll just have to hire him based on their own judgment. He's totally over-qualified for the job, he's got a lot of experience with other jobs in this field, and they desperately need someone right now! And he's interviewed with human resources, the operating manager, and the general district manager. And they still can't make up their fucking minds. Fuck them twice for that. Fuckers.

~Akaysha

Poetry

Thu, 09 Jan 2003 16:24:45 GMT

Life From Darkness

The sun stains the horizon.
Orange rays tarnish clouds and sky,
Smearing the order of nature,
Before surrendering to darkness.

Trees quiver in the chilling breeze.
Leaves dance with invisible partners,
Murmuring wordless rumors,
Falling from life in a spiral of grace.

The lake ripples out to the shore.
Light bounces off the choppy surface,
Acting out a tragedy of reflection,
A fractured spectrum of failing light.

The water envelopes me in blackness.
My lungs fill with icy delight,
Freezing out this imperfect world,
And leaving me to drown in perfect oblivion.

~Akaysha

The Delete Key - Mine Enemy

Thu, 09 Jan 2003 00:43:16 GMT

How many times have I begun to write, have I begun to commit idea to paper, only to abandon it and hit that foul accursed key?

Well, usually, I'm in the right to delete what I have written. Usually, it is bad. Very bad. So bad that I can no longer force my brain to think about it. Therefore, I feel fully justified in having deleted so many attempted masterpieces.

Still... There's the possibility that one of those failed attempts might someday be a prized work - completed, published.
There's the possibility that in ten years, that haphazard scribble will be just the inspiration I need to finish a floundering novel.
There's always the possibility that once I am dead, people will scramble to find the things that I have written, no matter how small or incomplete they are, in an effort to become rich.

Surely, I do not think so highly of myself that I would deprive the poor of the income they have struggled so long to have dropped into their laps. I cannot be the one to decide that they have no right to the finest things of life. Therefore, I am committing a social crime, a selfish despotism, every time I hit that key.

How dare I? I no longer dare such iniquities. No longer shall I delete what has flowed from my thoughts to my hands.

~Akaysha

Addiction

Tue, 07 Jan 2003 23:09:39 GMT

Oh how quickly the new addiction takes hold.
The thrill, the excitement, the new high.
How can anyone resist?
Oh how fast I've been sucked down,
how powerless I am.
The anticipation of the next hit,
it's even better than the last.
There is no point in fighting it--
I will update my journal constantly.

~Akaysha

Isn't Insanity Cool?

Tue, 07 Jan 2003 21:38:51 GMT

I've always been fascinated by crazy people, sort of drawn to them.

Maybe there was a part of me that always wanted to be like them. No, not in the tortured and paranoid sense, but more like, the freedom their eyes see the world with. They're not held in by the everyday boxes of reality. They don't have to see things the way I have to see them.

But how do you explain crazy to someone who isn't? How do I know that's what I want to be? I don't know. That's the problem and the answer all at once. I don't know what it means to be crazy, and I don't know if I'd like to be crazy. And even if I did want to be crazy, how does one get there.

I can't just wake up one morning and decide I'd like to be lamppost-scratching insane.

It would have to happen gradually, just a slow decline from reality. And where would I start? What part of my life should go insane first? The part that tells me what to eat or not eat? What to wear or not wear? Who to kill or not kill? Who is to say? And that is why, to the best of my knowledge, I have not yet gone insane. Although, awareness of one's illness is not guaranteed, so who knows? Maybe I'm already there.

Or maybe a traumatic event would push me right off the cliff of sanity, and I could tumble rapidly down an abyss of crazy. Which way would be better? The instant change from one personality to another? Or the drawn-out, gradual change that would force my friends and family to watch as it happened? At least they would know I was insane, and not to be trusted, whereas waking up from a car-wreck with a desperate urge to go off that cliff might give me some time to be deviously insane. No one would know, and I could get away with a lot of insanity before they caught on...

Well, there's a world of trouble out there, waiting to be caused. And off I go...

~Akaysha

For What Purpose?

Tue, 07 Jan 2003 19:44:21 GMT

Why did I start a live journal? Well, mostly because I wanted something to keep me entertained at work. And all my friends were doing it. And also, I needed a place where I could write. A lot. Every day. And this seems like the best place for it because, well, I could do it from work, and my friends are here. I am studying creative writing, with hopes of someday being a published novelist - but those dreams are rather far off, due to the fact that I'm still learning. SO... The purpose of this journal is not to enter my daily life into the annals of history, but instead to draft ideas, stories, and poems that may or may not ever be published anywhere. If you feel inclined to leave constructive feedback, I would love to read and consider it. If not, I hope you enjoy reading what I have written, anyway. Despite the fact that my works are being posted to the internet, they are my own works that should not be stolen or used by anyone without my explicit permission. As a result of my inherent distrust of people, some of my more important projects will be available only to my friends. (If you're not on that list, and you think you should be, let me know. Sometimes, even I forget things.)

Enjoy! =)
~Akaysha