The Devil's Boots

Today is kind of a pointless post, but whatever.

I haven't worn my precious Dr. Marten boots since the hiking trip I went on with MEChA, since they were so dirty and scuffed. This hiking trip happened in the beginning of July, before the Anime Expo and after June.

+Yes, I went hiking. There were trees, and rocks, and dirt and nature in general. Apparently when they said hiking, they meant hiking. Haha! It wasn't all bad except for you know, the actual hiking, but overall it was entertaining, and will forever remain a fond and happy memory. I still hate that river/stream/moving-body -of-water, however. (We had to cross a stream-like-thing a number of times- I dislike it. It's existence pissed me off.) But I'll post more on that later.+

Back to my boots. So my previously shiny, black leather boots are now caked with dirt and mud and pebbles and they're scuffed everywhere. I couldn't look at them for the week after due to the shame I felt for putting my boots (whom I love as my children) through such hardship. However, I rationalized, that these boots were the best thing to take hiking, seeing that my other shoes consist of two pairs of converse (one cloth, one not), which are slippery as fuck when on a wet surface*, a pair of American Rag shoes, which are basically cloth, cardboard ad a thin strip of rubber, and my now terminally ill Polo shoes, which I was not going to take hiking.

So, when I returned home, tired, sweaty, and still in shock that I hiked (like through dirt and nature and stuff), I took notice of my boots. My poor, poor boots, who were struck over and over by rocks and dirt and submerged in water when I kept falling into the water. At that point, I just mentally cried and buried them under a pile of clothes in my room, saying a brief prayer for them and sacrificing a baby goat in their honor.

Flash-forward to maybe four weeks later. I do not wear my boots, since they have been attacked by nature, and I stumble across them** when searching for a book. I had been ready to leave to go visit a friend of mine (for the first time in weeks!) and I was looking for the book, so I could read it when I came back.

I saw my poor boots, and in a moment of love, I decided to wear them. I shook them a bit, chasing away potential spiders or rocks, and put them on.

Strangely, the dust and irreversible scuff marks gave them a sort of... look. Kind of vintage, but that's not exactly it. It just gave them a sense of personality- and I loved it. I had never been so conscious of my boots existence before whilst walking.

It made them feel like my boots. My boots in which I bought for myself as an eighteenth birthday present.

It was awesome.

*Funny Story. When I was in Seventh grade, I had just gotten a pair of teal blue converse for my birthday. I didn't wear them constantly till March, since it was cold. Then April came, and I wore them- once. That same day, it rained, and the bell had just rung. Those of you who attended public school know that when it rains, the fucking bathroom floors get soaked, for some obscure reason. I ran in there to wash my hands- and I did a motherfucking split. My knee bent and I totally ate it. (Well, not technically, since I didn't fall on my face...)

It was funny.

**Quite literally. I almost fell.

(What does it say, that both those anecdotes are about falling?)

No Sir, No Dancing Today!

I have found the perfect book.

I'm not even kidding. And NO, it isn't the Bible. Loaned to me by a close friend of mine, "The Witching Hour" is the perfect book. It has everything. It's like if Anne Rice and V.C. Andrews had a love child. The plot is intriguing; combining a familial history darkened by death and incest with an interrupted ritual and of course, magic and witches, the plot is a total fucking trip.

The book itself reads like a mixture of Charmed and Flowers in the Attic. Of course this book was in existence before Charmed, although I'm not sure about Flowers in the Attic. Regardless, It had grabbed my attention. The main character, Rowan Mayfair, has absolutely no knowledge of her familial history and does not know a thing about her heritage; no idea why she has the power to kill or save, why her mother gave her up at birth, why her adoptive mother wanted her to have absolutely no association to the other Mayfairs in New Orleans. The other main character, Michael Curry, had an accident and came back from the dead with a psychometric power and has his world inadvertently tied together with Rowan's.

I'm part way through the family history (the second part: "The Mayfair Witches") and already I'm so into it, that it's not even funny. I haven't been this much into a book since I was reading "Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows" and "The Harlequin" simultaneously because I couldn't choose which to read first. (Let me tell you, that was a fucking mission.) Regardless, I cannot put the book down (except for now) and it is thoroughly entertaining.

How have I not read this book before? It came out in 1990, I should have heard of this. Really, I'm surprised at myself. I still have like five-hundred pages to go, but I know it will be epic.

I have also started watching a lot of Dexter. I haven't watched Dexter since the first season came out, due to my lack of cable TV and lack of Internet or computer, so getting into the second season again was great! I had no idea I had been missing so much! I am currently part way through the third, and although it's a bit of a let down, it's keeping me thoroughly entertained.

This summer has kept me very entertained, on the entertainment front. (Does that make sense?) I have also become a bit of a hermit, but that's okay- a withdrawal from the world is expected following my disillusionment with society. It's a yearly occurrence. It just sucks that it happened during summer, 'cause it's hot!

I have also read Stardust by Neil Gaiman, re-read American Gods, started Interview with the Vampire by Anne Rice (also borrowed from Angie), started various online manga, watched almost all of Charmed, several anime series (Fairy Tail, Sekirei), went half-way through the first book of "The Sword of Truth," bemoaned not owning the seventh Harry Potter book, or the last two Anita Blake books and learning how to make pancakes and french toast.

I also was able to register early for Pottermore, by finding the quill. Which is ironic, because originally, I had no knowledge of the quill-clue thing until Vicki informed me. I also got to register the same night. For once my habit of knocking out at 4am came in handy.

Sadly, I have not been to the beach once this summer. I hope to have this rectified by next week. That, or Little Tokyo. I want some dango.

I've also been going through some kind of social withdrawal, since my friends all left me. Well not left me, like we don't talk anymore, but left me as in physically left, since I have not seen many of them for like years. (I exaggerate; a month.) Regardless, I've gotten a bit clingy with the ones that are here, since Cherry leaving to Arizona has me feeling all abandoned and shit. That's one of the reasons for my hermit-tude I guess. *Sigh* Me and my issues.

My hatred for Twilight has reared it's head once again, along with my distaste for Nicki Minaj and a burgeoning dislike for Katy Perry and her fireworking tendencies. I not really sure why my criticism for pop culture is so strong all of a sudden. Strange.

Oh, and I'm broke. : (

Okay, that's it for my update.

I want apple cider, for some obscure, unknown, reason.

P.S Why do I have a habit of using archaic words?

Musical Whine

Don't you hate it when people label music?

When a certain music is labeled as a "girl" song because the artist happens to be avant garde and completely out there? Or when the music a band makes is "gay" because a few members of the band happen to be gay?

Or, what's even worse, when music seems to define exactly who you are?

To be honest, it makes no sense. According to some people, since I listen to Scissor Sisters and I enjoy that type of nu-disco/pop sound I absolutely, positively must be gay! Which is stupid. Since I listen to Tupac I must also be a gangster, right? I also listen to Cradle of Filth- does this make me a leather-wearing hardcore goth? I listen to some Japanese metal and I'm not a Japanese metalhead. I have friends who listen to the horrible Nicki Minaj and the untalented Katy Perry- that doesn't make them illiterate, tacky, vocally disabled, or a firework!

Somehow, people have gotten into their head that if you happen to be a part of some type of group, minority, etc, you must listen to a particular genre of music and if you don't, you're "weird"!

Why?!?!?!?!??!?!?!?!?

For Crying Out Loud, Why!!??!!??

Why do people do this? It's stupid on so many levels! I would understand teenagers and children buying into this kind of juvenile labeling (and to a degree, name-calling) but once you are at the end of the hormonal years and hit the beginning of the end of puberty this stupidity should stop! Seriously, I have grown adults telling me this shit, and it's annoying as hell!

Why should No Doubt be a "girl's band" just because Gwen Stefani happens to be the lead singer? Why does my little cousin continue to bemoan my liking of No Doubt, telling me that I should listen to Metallica and such, despite the fact that I listen to them more than he does?? Am I expected to stay in one genre of music based on my skin color and my choice of friends? Because if that were the case, I'd be listening to nothing but new school crap-rap, techno, and corridos. I detest new rap, and corridos! But if that's what we're basing it on...

And I know that certain groups listen to certain types of music, but how does that affect me?? Am I supposed to not listen to music I like because of stupid stereotypes? I listen to Jeffree Star- that doesn't make me a transvestite! I also like jazz- I don't go party at a motherfucking speakeasy, dammit! I listen to techno and house music and the last time I checked I'm not a Jersey Shore reject! I'm no fucking Oompa-Loompa!

Gosh! Doing this kind of shit is stupid!

I will forever remember that time when, as a high-school junior, I smacked my cousin for saying that "Underneath it All" was a "girl's song."

Too bad I can't just smack everyone who tells me that shit. It would make everything so much easier.

Free As My Hair, Fyi. (Noveling Pt. 2)

As I write this, I am listening to Lady Gaga's new CD, Born This Way. You should all listen to this album. But, before I go down that alley, I am not writing about Lady Gaga or her album. Just stating the fact that I'm listening to her.

In fact, I'm pretty much blogging about nothing. (This is one of those blog posts where I just ramble about random-er shit than usual.)

So recently, I've been writing about writing. That has been going well (the actual writing, not that writing about writing, because that truly does nothing) and I've been world building and world building, brick, brick, brick. I've found a way to finally write, since just writing the bare skeleton of something does nothing, since I have to go back and completely finish at the end, instead of going straight to the editing. I've come up with my style based on a stream-of-conciousness meets third-person omniscient.

That sounds weird, doesn't it?

(Note: I am now listening to "Deceptacon" by Le Tigre.)

It does sound weird. I'm sure it's been done (although it would be cool if it hasn't, but let's be real) but I like it- it's very liberating. I just have to balance the the conscious stream of the character whilst actually telling the story and describing enough so it makes sense.

I alternate between doing that, plot building, world building, and watching episodes of Charmed.

Also, I am now reading Stardust by Neil Gaiman, which is awesome. It doesn't have that dark tone of "American Gods" that I was wishing for, but it doesn't need it! It's a great story!

(Note 2: Listening to "Closer" by Nine Inch Nails.)

Stardust is awesome. It's going on the list of books I will force my friends to read before I die. So far I only have like two (American Gods, JPod) but the list will grow this summer! Ahahaha!

I'm also doing a shitload of research on folklore and mythology since I need to create stuff from scratch and tie into other stuff I already have. So I'm learning a lot! Like did you know, there are so many equivalents to King Arthur's Excalibur that it's not even special any more! Okay, it's still special, but I did not know there were so many people that built folklore around swords!

(Note 3: Listening to "Imagine" by John Lennon, now.)

I'm also making myself go through various crash courses from different mythologies and pantheons, scouring and squeezing out ideas into a small little pile and then working miracles. I think I'm making this from scratch, and it's not so much fun.

It's tedious.

But I enjoy it.

Why? 'Cause I'm a masochist.

:)

Noveling Pt. 1

Ugh.

This is all I can say.

For the past four months or so that I've been in session, any type of creative writing I have done has been in play-form. It has been thought of, executed, perfected, and then re-written in theatrical style. Ignoring the theatre-formula all plays are written in, as a writer (or at least for me) you have to force yourself to think in theatrical way: anything you do must absolutely work on stage. Every action, every word, every little nuance must be performable and doable by an actor performing your work.

It was a harsh and annoying change.

However, it was a change I adapted wholeheartedly to. I changed my creative style and thinking to suit the needs of the theatrical, of which I did a pretty good job, in my not-so humble opinion. I actually like writing in that manner, thinking of how an actor would execute a character's action or movement.

But now, having been freed from school, I have a problem. A huge one. A problem of monumental proportions, that I, in my nineteen years of existence, have ever run across.

How the hell to I change back?

Very recently, my muses paid me a surprise visit, bitch-slapping me with the force of a thousand ideas and I wrote like a man possessed. I wrote and wrote and wrote and wrote, researching and meticulously creating this new world I was going to play in, and then, when it came to actually executing the action, making everything happen, pulling out my miracle bag and throwing it in there, I look over to my work and... it sucks.

And it's not the idea itself. At least I hope to the goddess it isn't the idea.

It's the writing. I read over what was supposed to be my first chapter of this new and shiny work I came up with and it reads like a badly written script! I did what I could, but I realized- it's not the writing itself. The writing could work as a script it I adapted it to the proper formula. Idea as a script could totally work.

The problem is that the work is, in fact, not a script. It is a novel, and I would like it to stay that way, thank-you-very-much!

I don't know how to switch from playwright-style to novelist-style! This is not in my handbook! In fact, I don't have a handbook! They never gave me one! I just don't know what to do! I know, it's all me and I should be able to do something, but I can't! It just doesn't work. Apparently I have two modes now, playwright and poet, and neither are interested cooperating with me. What do you do when you're own creative instinct is working against you? Is it supposed to do that? And it's not like I could grab a bat and beat it into submission (although I wish I could!) and just... ugh!

There should be some type of marker for this. This is self-help book moment, dammit! I need help!

*Sigh*

I'm hoping that with enough writing it'll go away, but I don't know...

Anyway, I'm going back to the old grindstone. Only in this case, it's a pen and it's stabbing the fuck out of me.

A Series of Unfortunate Names

Why is it that politicians always have unfortunate names?

I mean, look at Anthony Wiener. I know it's immature, but seriously, school must have been horrible for him! (Mildly amusing to outright hilarious for everyone else, though.) To be honest, I don't actively follow politics, since it's all fucking stupid and just depresses me. Thus, I keep in touch with the asinine world of politics through the Facebook wall of a really good friend of mine. (You know who you are. :P)

And I swear, the things I find out about (through my friend's Facebook wall), are fucking disgusting.

Like Ryan Fattman's (Another unfortunate name, yet I refuse to feel sorry for the little shit) stance advocating rape. Read the proof that stupidity should be punished here. This dumb-ass mother-fucker. Basically, his belief is that undocumented women should be afraid of reporting any type of abuse, be it physical, sexual or mental, for the sole reason that they are in this country illegally.

Way to shit all over basic human rights, Fattman. While you're at it, you might want to purchase a nice blood diamond? Maybe a shirt made by a three-year-old child laborer in China? They'd go great along with the huge hole where your human decency should be.

This is not even an issue concerning illegal immigration, I mean, not really. This is just Fattman's thinly veiled contempt for women seeking a target, that sick little misogynist. What he's really saying is that if you're going to do something sick and illegal (rape, murder, physical attack) do it to someone who is illegal, 'cause they can't say anything. Talk about scapegoating; I wonder, is this what Hitler said about the Jews during the WWII era? Seriously, who the fuck says that? Every women should be able to seek help from law officials in the face of any type of abuse, regardless of their immigration status. Idiots like Fattman make the human race look bad.

So back to unfortunate names, and Anthony Wiener, isn't his scandal terrible ironic? This whole thing over semi-covered pictures of his dick and his name being Wiener? I know! I know! So immature! I'm a horrible, immature person- but it's hilarious! The irony is down right hilarious! Excluding his questionable morality (Dude, a seventeen-year-old, really?) this whole thing, what I hear of it, anyway, is totally hilarious.

This brings me to Rick Santorum.

This one maybe the worst of the lot, to be honest. And it's not what his name is, but what Dan Savage turned his name into. His name means literally, in slang terms, shit-mix.

Let me elaborate.

Rick Santorum is homophobic and therefore extremely anti-gay, saying that sexual acts between people who happen to be of the same-sex "undermine the basic tenets of [his] society and the family." He said that homosexuals don't have the Constitutional right to privacy with respect to their sexual practices, and they should be regulated just like child molesters and zoophiles are.

(Random Fact: Did you know that Bestiality wasn't illegal in Washington up until 2006? See: Kenneth Pinyan.)

Anyway, in response to the stupid, annoying pseudo-morality spewed by Santorum, columnist Dan Savage started this campaign to come up with a new meaning for "santorum" in opposition to Rick's stupid comments. So thus, a new meaning for "santorum" was born. It is now: "the frothy mixture of lube and fecal matter that is sometimes the byproduct of anal sex."

Using it in a sentence: "There's santorum on the condom! Ew!"

Personally, I find it hilarious! (I'm using the word "Hilarious" way to much.)

(Random Fact #2: Dan Savage also coined the term "pegging.")

It must suck to be a politician with an unfortunate name. Sometimes your parents are at fault (Wiener, I'm looking at you) other times, you bring upon your own dumb-ass self (Santorum.)

Regardless, it is hilariously entertaining to make fun of them.

P.S: Sorry about not blogging for like a year, then bringing you politics (even worse-republicans.) Next time will be something pop culture-y (Lady Gaga!) or something about me!

:)

"I've Eaten More Queens than Lancelot!"

When I grow up, I want to be an Italian mobster.

What? My middle school always told me I could be whatever I wanted to be.

True, they probably didn't have this in mind...

...and yes, I'm not Italian... but whatever!

Recently, I've been renting and watching a lot of "The Sopranos." I'm barely on volume two of the first season, but it's turning out to be very entertaining. It's burned a hole through the vampire-magic-mystery stuff I usually watch, which has been very, very enlightening. Not to mention, for a very forward idea, it is extremely subtle.

For example, in the first season, there's this episode where Carmela Soprano and the Priest are both alone in the house. It gets very psychological; exploring Carmela's distance from her Mob Boss husband and her regret, guilt and repentance over said husband's job, whilst simultaneously showing her and the priest's mutual attraction. Then, instead of acting on that passion and unresolved sexual tension, the priest decides to have her confess and then gives her communion.

People, that is the most sexually charged communion I have ever seen, off or on screen. (Although, off screen, a sexually charged communion would be pretty goddamn awkward.) Not to mention, the whole communion deal was a thinly disguised metaphor for sex. I have to give the writers their fucking props... it was so fucking interesting, not to mention ironic, that they would give such a holy aspect that edge of sex and attraction. Shit, the church should be getting pissed over this, instead of "Judas."

-> Yes, I know, this show is old, but I don't remember anything being said over it, while the church gets all bitchy over Lady Gaga acting out a scene from the bible (not offending anyone) this got away? Really, now.

But truthfully, this show is fucking awesome. It lacks that random sex that every other HBO television show has. You know, those random sex scenes that exist in every fucking episode and have absolutely no point? Like:

Janie: Omg, my grandma died!

Danny: She did?

*Hugs*

Danny: That sucks.

Janie: You want to have sex now?

---Cue ten minutes of softcore porn---

Seriously. True Blood, anyone? Sookie and Bill sleep together the day her grandmother dies. I'm sorry, that's just fucking tacky.

But "The Sopranos" lacks this (or at least it isn't as tacky) and it does the show a fucking service. Because it is fucking awesome. "The Sopranos" is what new TV should try to be! None of this fucking Jersey Shore, reality TV shit.

Reality TV is killing pop culture.

Speaking of the death of Pop Culture, tomorrow is Friday!!

-Friday, Friday, Gotta get down on Friday! Don't forget people! Before Friday, comes Thursday, Then comes Friday, Then Saturday, and Sunday comes afterwards!-

Someone has to help that bitch find a seat. Seriously.

If I could upload audio, I would add a snippet of me singing that atrocity. I would say butchering it, but it does a pretty good job of butchering itself- it does not need my help. In fact, I think my singing would make it better, and that's saying something!

On other news, I'm going to Little Tokyo tomorrow. I'm looking forward to cheap Pocky. And, I'm impatiently awaiting the Judas video, coming out sometime soon. For some reason I cannot find a set date for it. But i'm waiting, nonetheless. Also: check out my post on Lady Gaga- I did not get a chance to shamelessly promote it anywhere. Once again, let me know of you know every artist I mention in it. Click Here.

Speaking of impatiently waiting, I'm also waiting for Keys' newest mixtape to drop (Gypsies, Tramps and Thieves), since she is now my favorite female rapper. For those who don't know, Keys The Problem is that rapper from Baltimore who famously dissed Nicki Minaj for her idiotic "barbie" image and stupid ass elementary-school rhymes. She's fucking awesome. (I provided the link, btw.) I've been consoling myself by listening to her first mixtape and the Roman's Revenge remix she made with A. Tamaris - both which are really good. Also, for those of you who like JStar, listen to "I Hate Music." It's the B-Side to "Heart Surgery (Isn't That Bad)"

Okay, before I go I log off, my song of the week (because I actually have time to think of one today) is Judas (big surprise) for the sole reason that I really like the beat during the bridge. That, and I'm waiting for the music video. If you have not listened to it, you should. It's so industrial.

With that, my possibly non-existent readers, I take my leave.

(You guys should show me that you do exist, and comment.)

:D