On that note...

Expressed my frustration with being viewed, commonly, as completely fucking insane.

When I'm in default me-mode, I don't tend to think overmuch about what people are going to think of the way I look, talk, act. I'm just me, you know? I dress the way I want to. I use the words I want to. But when I'm out in public, especially in a nice large city, people are apt to think that it falls within their job description to say things to me.

You bitches thought it was funny to say things along the lines of, "Shake it, mamacita!" to the fat lady, eh? Had I been 15, with the attitude I have now, I probably would have rearranged your face. Sad that I'm an adult and would be prosecuted as such now...

People comment on my hat relatively often. I would guess that about half are being sincere in saying that it's a nice hat, and they like it. The other half, the hollered "Nice hat!" from cars, in male voices... more candidates for unprofessional plastic surgery.

Their opinions don't matter to me. That they think I am an acceptable target for their rudeness and self-loathing and insecurity does bother me. I can't smash all of them in the face with a hammer. I would probably be appalled with myself if I seriously entertained that thought for more than a few minutes.

I don't belong here. Sure, I can pass. I can wear slacks and nice shirts and lose the hat and put on makeup. I look good like that; even I think I look good like that. But when I'm just-me, when I've got the jeans and the default shirt and the hat to keep the goddamn sun out of my face, if I'm slouching and not made up, if my hair's looped back in a ponytail to keep it out of my way, if I don't bother to keep a masklike expression on my face, if I walk and ride the bus rather than beg a ride from someone who's got a car... then I'm just another street madwoman, and fair game to be taunted and "Do you see that hat she's wearing? Tee-hee-hee-hee!" discussed, with intent to be overheard.

I am who I am. I'm beautiful when I try to be, or when I'm happy. I'm brilliant and articulate. And, in person, I'm antisocial, I avoid groups, I rarely return favors or intimacy, and many people who I'm sure would love to be friends with me get rebuffed without me really knowing that I'm pushing them away.

I'm the Lunatic. And I hate to be called insane...

Workarounds

I wonder what the regs are for content of syndicated feeds? IIRC, there isn't much, except that the source of the feed has to be OK with it...

So, conceivably, one could snag the RSS feed from a, say, Journalfen site, that might be TOSed for excess wank on LJ, and make it into a syndicated feed, and watch it from the comfort and questionable privacy of one's LJ friends page, without having to go to the Journalfen site to read it, if that were the only major thing on one's friends page.

Thoughts?

Temple conversations...

Her: "Busy?"
Me: "Nah, not really, just cleaning."
Her: "I said that because I smelled all the incense..."
Me: "No, I don't usually use Sex on the Beach for serious ritual..."

State machines

State of the Room: pretty damn clean.
State of the Lunatic: tired.
State of the Cats: awake.
State of the Ritual: about 1 more day left on that candle.
State of the Computer: really needing a clean install.
State of the Friends Page: loading really phucking fast.
State of the Romance¹: We are the Queen of Bad Timing and the King of No Time.
State of the Romance²: Three more weeks until BONK! time!
State of the Samhein Costume: washed, dripping dry into the bathtub.
State of the Hair: needs a trim, looking more and more like Francine every day. 'cept no bangs.
State of the Schooling: "If you'd like to make a call, please hang up and try again, if you nead help, please dial the Oppppperator..."
State of the Kid: Arizona.

Ooooh, costume idea...

A pair costume idea, no less.

Me: All in black, with a black velvet ribbon choker.
sithjawa: All in misty sparkly white, with a loooooong white velvet ribbon choker with a sparkly colorless gem pendant, the tail end of the ribbon in my hand.

Sorry 'bout that potential sodaspew, reichiere.

Niiiiiiiice. Game. Brain-puzzle thingy. Telescopes.

http://www.dyson.co.uk/game/play.asp

Found via somebodies from kaon.

Damsel in distress?

Any of you ladies who is known by votania experiencing any difficulties with stuff?

Tech Support for FatherSir

Once upon a time, I was young and impressionable and eager-to-please. So when FatherSir announced that we were switching operating systems, I was quite happy to help out. We saved all of our important files, and FatherSir told me to install Windows 95, and then put in WordPerfect and Presentations. Then he left to run some errands. Since FatherSir either was still, or had recently been¹, working at UAF's Geophysical Institute in the Space Physics and Aeronomy Group as a computer person, he was used to being on the leading edge of computers. So, of course, installing the latest and greatest operating system was the thing to do...

I happily sat there with a book, feeding Guardian² 3½" floppies when prompted. Finally, it was all installed -- and I went to use it.

Keep in mind, I was a DOS baby, and then I was introduced to Windows 3.1, and I was used to everything working.

When FatherSir came back home, I told him (with the steam visibly rising from my head) that for his convenience, I had reinstalled 3.1, and if he wanted to use 95, he could reinstall it himself.

Some years later, we did switch over to 98 successfully.

---

[1] He retired at some point when I was teenage. Many of those years are blurrish...

[2] Guardian was our Gateway 2000 computer. Nice little machine. I miss him. As far as I know, he's still up and running.

"How to be really, really nasty with self-defence", by wiseheron

wiseheron spoke up...

when I was a teenager there was a guy in my neighborhood who was retired on disability, he'd lost part of his arm. He'd never tell me what he did for a living prior, because he would have had to kill me (I'm not sure if he was joking or what) but he did offer to teach me self defense, because he noticed I got picked on a lot.

This stuff is pretty gross, but it's better than rape or worse anyday. First lesson is, your attacker doesn't give a shit about your welfare, for you to win and survive you can't give a shit about his.

Did you know the average 10 year old child can rip the ear off the side of a man's head? It's only held on by a small amount of cartlidge and skin. If you get a good grip and throw your weight into it. The same goes for the lower lip, if you can get a good hold on it.

Ramming your fingers up someones nose hard and fast will usually blind them for several minutes.

Thumb jabs into the underside of the jaw (practice by poking around on your own for tender spots) into the eye sockets, the esopoghus, and under the armpit in towards the chest cavity are incredibly painful and will usually catch an attacker by surprise enough that you can then get another dirty blow.

Don't jab car keys or pens at someone's face, that's what is expected, go for the collarbone or thier crotch. A pen or a set of keys wedged like brass knuckles in your hand is a mighty weapon indeed.

A lighter and a can of hairspray makes a damn good flamethrower.

A ball bat with nails duct taped to it makes the worlds best kick ass mace. (though that one the cops may give you the hairy eye for carrying) One look at it though is usually enough to deter pretty much any attacker. If you are crazy enough to carry something like that around...odds are you aren't a good victim.

stun guns are good, cattle prods are better.

A potter's wire is discreet and deadly.(It's a piece of wire strung between two small wood handles, used to slice a wheel thrown pot off a pottery wheel, but it also makes a hell of a garrote) There are a number of other pottery tools that look like hideous instruments of torture. Pulling one out can definitely give some asshole a pause.

Smile. Smile like you are going to rip the fucker's internal organs out and eat them in alphabetical order and enjoy it. Maybe even suggest that's what your going to do, and start reciting internal organs in alphabetical order. If you aren't sure you can stop them physically, fuck with thier mind. Laugh.
Most people don't want to handle someone whose obviously a raving psychotic.

And above all, if you can, do scream like hell. Many people find they can't scream when something like this happens, Roy took his pupils down to the hoosier national forest and had us wander around, he would occasionally pop out and grab someone by the shoulders or thier hair and scare the shit out of them so that we could practice the concept of screaming bloody murder at an instant's notice. Keep in mind that nowadays, you hear little kids screaming all the time, because thier parents don't teach them that certain types of screaming is reserved for "bad situations" not playing. So it's best to scream words....help, fire, rape, get off me you fucking asshole....anything is good.

that concludes todays lesson of how to become a psycho in 3 seconds or less when attacked. You may all go home now.