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Monday, December 14th, 2009
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4:03 pm - All you need is Love
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Love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love.
There's nothing you can do that can't be done.
Nothing you can sing that can't be sung.
Nothing you can say but you can learn how to play the game
It's easy.
There's nothing you can make that can't be made.
No one you can save that can't be saved.
Nothing you can do but you can learn how to be you
in time - It's easy.
All you need is love, all you need is love,
All you need is love, love, love is all you need.
Love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love.
All you need is love, all you need is love,
All you need is love, love, love is all you need.
There's nothing you can know that isn't known.
Nothing you can see that isn't shown.
Nowhere you can be that isn't where you're meant to be.
It's easy.
All you need is love, all you need is love,
All you need is love, love, love is all you need.
All you need is love (all together now)
All you need is love (everybody)
All you need is love, love, love is all you need.
-Lennon/McCartney
Anthem.
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(comment on this)
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| Friday, November 27th, 2009
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10:23 am - The Day After
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Thanksgiving was somewhere between "amazingly successful" and "big fat bust".
It was nice to have Jeremy with me most of the day, cooking right along side me.
He tasted my homemade cranberry sauce, which was nice. And there was absolutely NO fighting.
But over the past few years, fighting isn't something I come to expect during the holidays.
After I married Jeremy, I realized that not ALL families get together so that they can belittle,
berate and badger each other.
Jeremy's parents are loving, they enjoy the time they spend with their family- because to them
family means loved ones. I have to take into consideration though, I'm only talking about the immediate family; parents, kids and their kids.
Anyway, I miss that. I miss being surrounded by people who can joke and poke fun at you while also showing just how much they care. Really, I'm not hyping these people up- put it this way, It takes me at least 5 minutes to think of nice things my Father has ever done for me, but in seconds I can think of at least 10 awesome things Jeremy's Dad has done in the "short" 5-6 years I've known him. This is the man that upon finding out I was allergic to wasps/bees, shoved his hand inside a metal bell next to his back door successfully crushing a hive with his bare hands. He didn't want me to go to the hospital... and at that moment I knew some father somewhere really loved me.
But anyway, back to Thanksgiving.
Turkey turned out pretty good, nice and golden. Homemade cranberry sauce was nice and sweet/spicy. Homemade stuffing wasn't my grandmother's recipe, so it lacked something. Gravy was great, boxed and canned things- as always pretty infallible. Pumpkin custard pie, not bad- mock coconut pie, pretty good- Eclair cake, bad ass as usual.
Jeremy and I were talking, and we're thinking that next year- we want to have a HUGE Thanksgiving/Christmas bash, sometime between the two holidays. We've got our fingers crossed to be in North Carolina by that time, so we could invite all of our Michigan friends and family down to our place- and just cook, drink and be merry. I think it would be a great way for us to ring in our final stop on the 'gypsy tour'
Eh, I'm just rambling really. I guess I'm too sick to think straight. *chuckle*
-Lisa
current mood:  sore
current music: Oasis- Wonderwall
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(1 comment | comment on this)
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| Sunday, November 8th, 2009
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11:01 am
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What you think you're supposed to do,
what you have passion for...
Life doesn't make it easy.
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(1 comment | comment on this)
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| Wednesday, November 4th, 2009
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9:28 am - diet, yay.
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So I'm committing myself to losing at least 30 lbs by April.
My actual goal is 50 lbs.
My first step in this process was to join Curves.
My second step is now going to be drinking tons of water.
I'm also trying to incorporate a healthier diet.
Here I go.
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(7 comments | comment on this)
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| Sunday, October 25th, 2009
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7:10 pm - The issue with Dabel Brothers Publishing
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My husband has been working with Dabel Brothers Publishing for nearly 3 years now.
He was always there to take odd jobs for them and even had entered into an agreement of payment per month with them- at one point.
Now though, things have changed. Dabel Brothers Publishing has long been a company devoid of honesty. Payments often made late, if ever at all. Employees leaving their company due to issues of non-payment and other unmentionable personal topics.
Dabel Brothers Publishing is now over 120 days past due on a payment of $1100 to my husband Jeremy Treece. They were in breach of contract after 30 days of non-payment. They have made promises to pay multiple times, and then when time of payment arrives the Dabel Brothers are nowhere to be found.
My husband is not the only artist suffering from their deceit.
Please if you are a fan of comic books- help us make them understand that the artists are the reason for a comic's existence. Let them know that they can't treat us and our families this way.
Please do not buy from Dabel Brothers Publishing until these issues are resolved.
Down with Dabel!
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(comment on this)
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2:03 am - Writer's Block: Yes, offense taken
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I always confront someone who is quite clearly stricken with "closed mind" syndrome.
I'm likely to confront them no matter what.
It doesn't matter to whom the comment is directed, it always offends me...
What? I happen to be highly offended by homophobic bigots, aren't you?
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(comment on this)
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| Wednesday, October 21st, 2009
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12:46 am - Writer's Block: I'm sorry
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This is an extremely difficult question.
Do I get to tell people that are with me now these things? Do I get to have all the beautiful goodbye conversations with the most important people in my life?
If so, and I had to pick someone from my past...
The 'I love you' and 'I'm sorry' both go to my sister's children.
They've all been taken by the state, and for the longest time I wasn't there for them like I should've been- because I was afraid to lose them. I would apologize for my absence in their lives, and let them know that I always have and always will love them.
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(comment on this)
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| Tuesday, October 20th, 2009
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6:15 pm
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It has been over 4 months since the completion of Jailbreak #1, and our family has yet to see payment for my husbands work on the interiors. We have politely inquired about payment, emailed, phoned, and been jerked around for 3.5 months now.
The Dabel brothers are in breach of contract with Jeremy Treece concerning payment for work on Warriors: Jailbreak issue #1. We have also found that this isn't solely a personal matter- there are many other people who have worked for the Dabel brothers who also are not being paid their due.
Something needs to be done about this, due to Dabel's inability to pay my family is without gas and short on rent, we've been making up for the 1100 dollar deficet for nearly 4 months now.
It has also come to my attention that Dabel saw it fit to pay Dean Koontz, but NOT the people they contracted to work on their books.
Someone needs to fix this. Fast.
-Lisa Treece
Wife of Jeremy Treece, mother of 3 year old Rhea Treece and 5 month old Dakotah Treece. Concerned about our future...
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(comment on this)
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| Saturday, October 17th, 2009
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1:18 am - Writer's Block: Come here often?
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Simultaneously worst and best...
"I just killed a man, wanna have sex now?"
I credit that to Pat- who was the first person to ever say it to me.
I was stunned, then appalled- then I thought I was going to die laughing.
C'mon really- tell me you have a better one.
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(comment on this)
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| Tuesday, October 13th, 2009
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6:21 pm
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| Monday, October 12th, 2009
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9:09 am - Writer's Block: My Favorite Neighborhood Business
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Woody's Smoothies about 2 blocks down.
Tastiest Bubble Tea (Boba) that I have ever had.
Not the best service ever, but things are done fresh each time,
and there isn't any question about the quality.
Who knew that giant tapioca pearls could be so damn enticing?
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(2 comments | comment on this)
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| Friday, October 9th, 2009
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11:45 pm - An old character I wrote..
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I apologize for all the coding- I'm not sure how to fix it.
[list][u][color=Ice Blue]Under the M A S K[/color][/u]
[color=Dark Red][u][i]ª_[/color][color=Gray][b]F oundation B eneath;;[/b][/color] [b]Mahdicia[/b]//.[/u][/i]
[color=Gray][u][i]ª_[/color][color=Dark Red][b]F allen Rainbow;;[/b][/color] [b]Dark Red, Ice Blue, and Gray[/b]//.[/u][/i]
[color=Gray][u]S H A K E It U p[/u][/color]
[color=Ice Blue][u][i]ª_[/color][color=Dark Red][b]Don't W ear It O ut[/b][/color] //.[/u][/i] Autumn Sade Crowley
[color=Dark Red][u][i]ª_[/color][color=Ice Blue][b]M oon R ise[/b][/color] //.[/u][/i] 23
[color=Ice Blue][u][i]ª_[/color][color=Dark Red][b]L ook Mommy Its A[/b][/color] //.[/u][/i] Female
[color=Dark Red][u][i]ª_[/color][color=Ice Blue][b]I nside My H eart[/b][/color] //.[/u][/i] Avoid situations where you can get hurt... even if you want to love and be loved in return... so very much
[color=Ice Blue][u][i]ª_[/color][color=Dark Red][b]I A lways Wanted to B e a[/b][/color] //.[/u][/i]I dreamt of playing cello... but now Im a Hospice Nurse
[color=Dark Red][u][i]ª_[/color][color=Ice Blue][b]R andom Facts Y ou Just Might N eed[/b][/color] //.[/u][/i] I can speak fluent Inuit. I believe that I am a psychopomp, a deliverer of the dead. Like the Inuit Goddess Pinga- and the archangel Gabriel,
or maybe you are more familiar with the famous God, Mercury- of Roman mythology. I have no fear of death as humanity knows it
[color=Ice Blue][u][i]ª_[/color][color=Dark Red][b]Y ou Make Me W ant To Shout![/b][/color] //.[/u][/i][list]
{ Five likes/ five dislikes/ five fears }
1. Winter/Cold. I was born and raised in Alaska. I like cold weather, snow, and ice.
2. Classical music. I love all music really, but Classical strikes a chord in my soul. Hence why I chose to play the Cello.
3. Elderly People. They have so much insight into life, they're so intelligent and wise. Each one of them blessed with stories to pass on.
The Eldrely are the closest thing to our ancestors that reside on the same plane of existance. I revere them.
4.Gothic Culture-.The clothing, the music, the poetry, the architecture- all of it. It moves me in this beautiful way. I consider myself a sophisticated gothic woman.
5. Fire. No matter what has happened in my past... I have an inate connection with fire. I'm a cancer- a cardinal water sign, and still- Fire burns in my soul. Im what you would call a Pyromaniac.
Fire is so alive, so amazingly beautiful. It burns with passion, it dances as it destroys...
A. Excessively hot weather. I may be born in July, but July in Alaska has never been over 78 degrees for as long as I can remember.
B. Sports. Im just not into them. If I do anything active, I go for walks or take Yoga lessons. Do something to strengthen your innerself- dont bash an opponents skull for joy.
C.. People with infinitely closed minds. Not willing to look past the ends of their noses to realizes that life has something more to it than just them.
D.Illiterate people. If you can't speak correctly, how can you possibly know what you're talking about.
E.. The smell of burning flesh. I've only had it fill my nostrils twice in my life- and once was my own skin. It disgusts me.
I. Philophobia- Its the fear of falling in love.. or being in love. I guess.. I like knowing I can help people cross the barrier between life and death..
I just dont want them to be someone I truly love. I dont know if I'd see it the same way.
II. I fear Hurting those around me. I've spent so much of my life training to help, to bring comfort. I dont like hurting those I care for.
III. Making mistakes. Each time I make a mistake in my life, someone else pays the price for it. I dont want that to happen again... I avoid mistakes.
IV. Dying alone. I spent my life in refusal to let other die alone... I just hope someone gives me the same curtousy when I pass on.
V. I find that when I am the only female in a group of men, I am very uncomfortable. I wouldn't call it a fear per se- just a real discomfort.[/list]
[color=Dark Red][u][i]ª_[/color][color=Gray][b]L OOK At M E[/b][/color] //.[/u][/i] [list]
{ Personality, at least four paragraphs }
I spent my whole life being ridiculed by society for one thing or another, and so now- as an adult, I've come to block it all out. I dont quite care if you think I wear too much black, or if my style isnt conventional. It is who I am. I am comfortable with my persona, with the deep and brooding woman I've become. People can say what they want of me, but 90% of the time... Im not even listening.
I love listening to and playing music. It pleases me to change emotions in others with my cello's beautiful sound. Music is true movement of the soul, it is peace and war, it is love and hate, it is life and death. Music teases and tantalizes the senses, there is nothing more soothing to me than the sweet dramatic melody of a string quartet.
I have a very natural way of things. I am not avidly into technology, although I know about most of the latest medical advances having to do with Hospice care.
I would prefer living in a small village off the coast, to the city I live in today. Nature speaks to me, and I appreciate all it has to say. I express my love of nature through my music and sometimes poetry.
I am a naturally blunt person. If I have something to say I dont beat around the bush. There is no sense in not being straightforward and honest. Each day has been gifted unto us, we must live them to their fullest potential, never taking anything for granted. I try not to be mean about things I have to say, and over the years I have developed a great deal of tact. Sometimes the simplicity of it though- is that people just dont like hearing the truth.
Despite my blunt and ridiculed being, I am actually quite pleasant. Or at least I think so. I have sophistication without being a snob, streetwise without being a punk, and a friendly demeanor without being stalker-esque. I generally end up disliking the majority of the populus around me, but that doesnt change that I respect them enough to be pleasant.[/list]
[color=Ice Blue][u][i]ª_[/color][color=Dark Red][b]D ance Down Memory L A N E[/b][/color] //.[/u][/i][list]
{ History at least four paragraphs, perferably more.}
Well, I was born in Anchorage, Alaska to an Inuit mother and a Caucasian father. I was their miracle child, born when my mother was 31 and my father 35.
My mother use to tell me how the Goddess Akna had blessed her with me so late in life for a reason, and how she would never question that I was a gift from fate. I never had a large family, my fathers parents had both passed before I was born and he had no brothers or sisters. My Mothers side of the family was all gone except for one estranged brother that had moved supposedly to the UK and her mother. So the only relative I ever knew was my grandmother, and she loved me with all the ferocity in her soul. My Father worked as a doctor in a nearby hospital and my mother stayed home taking care of me. We never wanted for anything, my father was a good provider.
I was home schooled by my mother until I was 8 years old. She wanted to teach me more than elementary basics. We had one hour of music every day, mostly classical- and then every friday was a full day dedicated to learning my instrument of choice. I devoted myself to the Cello at 6 years old. Each Sunday we would make the hour long drive to Gran-Gran's house with my Father in tow for a true family night. My Gran often expressed concern from the time I was 6 about my being home-schooled. She feared that it would keep me from gaining a real insight into other people, and that I would be isolated from my peers. At 8 years old my mother finally gave in- and I went to public school. I tested into my fourth year, where the other children were all 2 or 3 years older than I was and a great deal more obnoxious.
This is where I began to feel that life isnt all first snowfalls and northern lights... I was 'the new girl'. No one ever moved to my city, and no one else was ever new... I was the newest student until I graduated. I didnt actually make friends until my 6th year of school, and even then, I wouldnt have called them that.
The first time they visited my home was a few days before Christmas. They spent most of the day cracking jokes at my expense and hurting my feelings, as usual. I just thought this was normal. My mother on the other hand was furious, when she realized what was going on she kicked them all out of our home and proceeded to call their parents. She made sure their parents knew how they disrespected our family, and how they treated me like dirt. I couldn't imagine any of them was very pleased to be grounded over the holiday season.
Then just after Christmas, December 29th, around 11 pm, as my mother was sleeping soundly and I lay in bed enraptured by the H.P Lovecraft novel 'The Rats in the Walls', I heard a strange noise outside my window. I ambled groggily from my bed to the window and slowly opened it, looking down into my yard.
A boys voice called up to me, "Autumn- come down for a minute. We want to talk to you." I recognized it as Gregory, one of the boys from 'my clique', and so without hesitation (because I had learned my place in the group by this time), I lit a candle as to not wake my mother, and moved quickly downstairs.
When I stepped onto my porch, they were already there- waiting patiently. I looked up to see that it was only the boys, and none of the girls. Gregory, Dante, and Patrick. And I remember thinking- "Patrick is very attractive.." as he stood bathed in moonlight, staring at me. But as the silence continued I noticed something was wrong, and I could hear a faint clicking sound becoming more audibal each second. I looked for the source and found it in Gregory's fingers, a small switchblade. Fear consumed my heart at that point, I realized that they must have been angry with me for my mothers phone call, and they were there to teach me a lesson. I panicked, turning on my heels to escape inside and deadbolt the front door... but I didnt make it.
Dante grabbed for my arm and caught on, lurching me to the floor as if I weighed nothing. Gregory quickly moved on top of me, straddling my stomach... and flicking that god awful blade in my face. Dante stood above me, towering there... speaking volumes about how he could subdue me, without saying anything at all. I looked to Patrick for some sort of help... but he couldnt even meet my gaze. He stood at the banister of my porch, playing watchdog.
I let out a muffled sob, I was certain they were going to kill me... or worse. Gregory smiled malicously down at me and began to trace the contours of my face with his blade. It was then that I remembered the candle in my hand- overjoyed I went to swing it into his face- possibly burn out his eye and make a break for it... but the candle wasnt there, and instead of making a miraculous escape, I only punched him lightly- and made him angry. I looked about for the candle hoping it was in reach, but alas... it had rolled nearly 20 feet away... back into my house... still burning. My mind began reeling, and my body began struggling. I needed to extinguish that candle. But even as Gregory pinned me down, blade to my throat- I saw the rug near our stairs catch flame, and I knew it was all over. I began screaming my mothers name, hoping she would wake up and run down stairs, but I knew how soundly she slept. Dante kicked me in the ribs, knocking the wind out of me, as Gregory slashed his blade across my chest- warning me to shut up.
Between the two of them, I was drug from my porch out into the snow, forced to watch as my house slowly went up in flames. Tears slipped down my cheeks without accompanied sound, and I kept looking from one face to another- waiting for the glimmer of compassion. Finally it came from Patrick. He spoke slow, and with much thought to his larger friends...
"Greg", he said, "We should let her go... let her call the fire department... her mom is in there.. besides, I think you got your point across."
Gregory nodded and laughed, dropping me onto the ground. He knelt in front of me and grinned, "This is all your fault you know... you set fire to your own house... and we were never here. Isnt that right?"
I nodded and bowed my head, emotionally defeated as I saw the flames flare in the upper windows of my home. And then they ran... the three of them soundlessly through the night, unable to be heard over the popping and crisping of the blaze. I ran without thinking.. back toward the house. In through the front door and through the flames. I didnt notice when they licked my arms, gifting me with 3rd degree burns and permanant scarring. I only wanted to save my mother. I couldnt even make it up the stairs. It was as if the fire had a mind of its own... and only one target marked that night.
I found myself kneeling in the snow sobbing dreadfully as the fire truck pulled in front of my house. My father arriving minutes later with the paramedics, ready to feed me oxygen and treat my wounds. But some wounds gained that night were untreatable.
For the next six months my Father and I lived at my Gran-Gran's house. I was taken to the best Psychologist in Anchorage twice a week for those months... in an attempt to make me speak again. I had shut the world out. No one had looked into an arson case for our home because I never told anyone about the boys, and their little visit. I had stopped going to my school while I lived with my Gran-Gran, preferring home tutoring. During this time, I began to delve into Gothic culture. Reading a darker side of poetry, working more dark clothing into my wardrobe. Neither my Father nor my Gran said anything, accepting that I was in a state of mourning for my mother. My Father didn't blame me for what had happened, he was sure that I had tripped and fallen down the stairs, dropping my candle and knocking myself out- leaving me unable to do anything except escape blindly through the smoke without realizing what I was doing. I never contested what he believed, I didnt want to hear him blame me... like I blamed myself.
We returned to our home 6 months after the fire, it was rebuilt almost identically, by instruction of my father. It was already filled with new things, just waiting for our return. And this time we brought my grandmother with us... not a replacement for my mother, but another soul to fill the void. I went back to school the next year, a different person. I was the Goth... the only goth. I laugh as I remember it now, everyone thinking I worshipped dark gods, thinking I wanted to sacrifice animals and drink their blood. It was one of the few things I got amusement from. I was only 11 years old at the time. I went through the next 3 years of school just passing time. Talking as little as possible, and staying out of the limelight. I didnt date, I didnt make friends. I didnt want any of those things.
Then the summer before my junior year of high school, I lost my father in a freak accident. Days after my 15th birthday we went hiking into the mountains. I dont remember much, except sliping... falling a bit- and my father trying to help me. I woke up in the hospital days later, my grandmother crying at my side.
She told me that we had both fallen down the cliff side, rolling and hitting the whole way down. That I had made it with little to no wounds, and had merely fallen into a deep sleep... but my father hadn't been so lucky. He had fallen head over heels for more than 200 feet, cracking his skull and breaking most of his bones on the way down. By the time we were found that night, he was already dead.
That incident left me 15 years old, entering my Junior year of high school, the loner goth girl, with no parents because she killed them both. Needless to say I continued keeping to myself until graduation. Where I was graced with the title of Salutorian, due to my outstanding grades. I left that school and never looked back. My Grandmother helped me fill out applications for college, and that following semester I enrolled in the University of Colorado, College of Music.
After 2 semesters had passed, I was 1st chair Cello in our orchestra and loving college life. I had even found someone to spend time with, a boy that played the viola.
And then.. for the last time in my life, disaster struck. I got a phone call from an RN at the local hospital in Fairbanks, and was told that my grandmother had less than 48 hours left to live... and I had better make it soon to say goodbye and make funeral arrangements. Well I took the next flight out of Denver Centennial and made it to Anchorage in less than 6 hours. I found my way to the Fairbanks hospital, and into my grandmothers room... she was wasting away. The nurse told me she had Cancer... it had been found less than 4 months ago, and was suprised my grandmother didnt tell me. I stayed with her the entire time.. not eating, barely sleeping. Just waiting for the inevitable. It was in those few days that I found my true calling. Taking care of my grandmother showed me what it felt like to help people.. to make them comfortable and guide them safely.. to their final destinations. She passed 54 hours after I had arrived, the moment I fell asleep for the first time.
I made funeral arrangements and took a week off school. She was buried along with my mother and father. And I returned home to make sure everything was in order financially. I made some phone calls and returned to school a month later, transferring to the University of Colorado at Boulder Springs, and entering the Beth-el college of Nursing. I graduated with full honors at 22 years old, and began working outpatient Hospice at Fairbanks Memorial Hospital 2 months later.
I live at home now, and work 6 days a week. Music day is now sunday... and I play alone. I have no friends here, except those that I ferry to the land of the dead. I live through my work, and achieve greatness through my dreams. I don't believe there is much else to tell.[/list]
[color=Gray][u][i]ª_[/color][color=Ice Blue][b] I mage in the M I R R O R[/b][/color] //.[/u][/i][list]
{ Picture & at least two paragraph description }
[Center][IMG]http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v297/willowwolf/xmen%20stuff/autumn.jpg[/IMG][/center]
Despite that many people often tell me that I am out of date and out of style, I completely disagree. I fnd that my taste in culture and style of clothing suits me perfectly. I tend to lean toward the more sophisticated side of the gothic culture. I prefer long skirts or black slacks, and long sleeve shirts.. to cover the scaring left by the fire. I like to incorporate deep desaturaed hues into my wardrobe as well. Victorian scarlet, hunter green- colors like that. If ever I am wearing a covering, it is always the same. My floor length black cloak, lined with warm crushed velvet. I spent 300 dollars on that cloak 2 years ago, and It is still worth every penny.
Physically, I believe I am a decently attractive woman. I stand at 5 feet 7 inches, with jet black hair just past my shoulders. My eyes are a mix of deep brown hues and golden flecks, shaped like slivers of almonds. My skin is naturally a deeper olive tone, the mix of my mother and fahers. I try not to crowd my face with make up, but often wear black eyeliner drawn thinly around my eyes, and a dark shade of cool brown lipstick. I have random beauty marks, like any person... but more often noticed are the scars that lace up and down the top sides of my arms. Not too many people ever get to see the few that are on my shoulder blades and back- but they're there too. I use to be very shy and introverted when it came to my body, not knowing how people would react. But now I wear each part of myself proudly, knowing that fate has made me who I am today for a reason.
[/list]
[color=Dark Red][u][i]ª_[/color][color=Gray][b]T his is What I S ay[/b][/color] 1. "What are you afraid of... physical danger? What will it do- kill you?"
2."The cello is such a melancholy instrument, such an isolated, miserable instrument... I love it."//.[/u][/i]
[u][color=Ice Blue]Inside the D R E A M[/color][/u]
[color=Dark Red][u][i]ª_[/color][color=Gray][b]The F I R S T Kiss [/b][/color] //.[/u][/i] July 7th at 7pm
[color=Gray][u][i]ª_[/color][color=Dark Red][b]Name[/b][/color] H E Y You!//.[/u][/i] Call me Mercy...
[color=Dark Red][u][i]ª_[/color][color=Gray][b]Swing S E T[/b][/color] //.[/u][/i] Sex is pleasure, Love is blind... does that answer your question?
[color=Ice Blue][u][i]ª_[/color][color=Dark Red][b]ARMOR && P O I S E N[/b][/color] //.[/u][/i][list]
{ What strengths do they have in the dream? What weaknesses? }
I have one true strength in the dreamworld that is merely a modified version of real life. I can block things. Mostly mental intrustions,
but I can simply create a barrier within my mind that says 'No' and the person cannot enter. I believe it came from spending my life
learning to shut people out.
My one true weakness is also a reflection of myself outside the dreamworld. I am incapacitated by large groups of male figures. If I am the only
female in a group, I freeze. I cannot move my body, or think anything coherently. It is truly frightening.[/list]
[color=Gray][u][i]ª_[/color][color=Ice Blue][b]B ig and S H I N N Y[/b][/color] //.[/u][/i][list]
{List and Describe weapons here. No more than three please. }
Cello- I carry my Cello with me at all times in my dreams. I feel that it is my talisman. It helps me focus and center. But it is also my weapon.
My Cello is unbreakable... therefore.. a nice bludgoning tool if necessary.
Ice Shards- It is the way Alaska protects me inside my dreams... I carry a small pouch on my hip- it is filled with Ice shards. I throw them like
daggers- and once they hit, the object of penetration is frozen.[/list]
[color=Dark Red][u][i]ª_[/color][color=Gray][b]B L A S T[/b][/color] //.[/u][/i][list]
{ List and describe three or four powers here. }
Empathy- The ability to feel ones emotions and to reflect emotions into others.
Pyrokensis- I can control, ignite, and extinguish fire with merely a thought. Because of this power- I am fire resistant.
Death Sight- The ability to see the aura of death around someone in immediate danger/or to see actual spirits.
Follow the Candle- I can create an 'aura' of light around myself- visible to all spectrums- to light the correct pathway through dark places.[/list]
[color=Ice Blue][u][i]ª_[/color][color=Dark Red][b]D ance With One A R M Waving F R E E[/b][/color] //.[/u][/i][list]
{ One main song, and minor ones if you wish it. }
1. Sophia- The Cruxshadows
2. Oceanic- Bond[/list]
[/list]
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(1 comment | comment on this)
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| Monday, October 5th, 2009
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9:16 am - Writer's Block: Sick day
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I always wanted my Mom to take care of me when I was sick, she really cared. My Dad would get pissed at me all the time for being needy, my friends were too busy with other things, and my partner... well he's a big baby. *chuckle*
When I'm sick, I need to stay home. If I go to work I don't accomplish anything, my body just knows it needs rest. I use to be able to go to school when I was younger and ill.
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(comment on this)
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| Saturday, October 3rd, 2009
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8:43 am - Writer's Block: Confessions of a couch potato
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I remember watching entire seasons of TV shows at one time, sometimes 2 or 3 seasons if I hadn't caught the show from the very beginning. But I couldn't tell you when this was. Recently I believe the longest stretch was about 7 hours. But I was also up and about, fixing dinner and cleaning house while watching.
TV is entertaining, and I do enjoy some of it- but most of the time its to cure my boredom- which really only makes me feel worse about being bored and solving it with TV.
What I need is a very large burly drill sergeant to come out of nowhere every time I put on the BoobTube and start screaming horrible things at me until I cry and end up smashing the TV.
After a few thousand dollars, i just wouldn't buy a new one. *shrug*
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(comment on this)
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| Wednesday, September 9th, 2009
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12:43 am - Writer's Block: Splurging for My Future
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A group like Weight Watchers or Curves.
Its not because I can't lose weight-
but because, I'll be honest...
I can't do it on my own.
And I'm not one of those uber skinny girls, like 5'9" and 125 that thinks shes a fat blob.
I really do need to lose weight, or I could end up with heart disease.
I would splurge and pay the yearly fee to have a group there to help me stay on track to make my future better... not just for me, but for my children.
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(comment on this)
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| Friday, August 21st, 2009
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1:33 am
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| Monday, August 17th, 2009
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10:05 pm - Writer's Block: And the Apple Goes To
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The incredible Mr. Jon Toll.
Earth and Space extraordinaire!
He taught me what was worth appreciating in this world.
Mr. Toll is what a teacher should be-
and in the end,
a true hero.
I love/loved that man as my grandfather.
Good luck Toll...
wherever you are.
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(3 comments | comment on this)
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| Thursday, August 13th, 2009
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9:05 pm - An honest anthem
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One Republic- "Stop and Stare"
This town is colder now, I think it's sick of us
It's time to make our move, I'm shakin off the rust
I've got my heart set on anywhere but here
I'm staring down myself, counting up the years
Steady hands, just take the wheel...
And every glance is killing me
Time to make one last appeal... for the life I lead
Stop and stare
I think I'm moving but I go nowhere
Yeah I know that everyone gets scared
But I've become what I can't be, oh
Stop and stare
You start to wonder why you're 'here' not there
And you'd give anything to get what's fair
But fair ain't what you really need
Oh, can u see what I see
They're tryin to come back, all my senses push
Un-tie the weight bags, I never thought I could...
Steady feet, don't fail me now
Gonna run till you can't walk
But something pulls my focus out
And I'm standing down...
Stop and stare
I think I'm moving but I go nowhere
Yeah I know that everyone gets scared
But I've become what I can't be, oh
Stop and stare
You start to wonder why you're here not there
And you'd give anything to get what's fair
But fair ain't what you really need
Oh, you don't need
What u need, what u need...
Stop and stare
I think I'm moving but I go nowhere
Yeah I know that everyone gets scared
But I've become what I can't be
Oh, do u see what I see...
current mood:  discontent
current music: Sarah Maclachlan
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(1 comment | comment on this)
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8:59 pm - Writer's Block: I Love My Body Because…
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Because it is voluptuous.
My curves are like a mountain road, going on forever.
I'm a real woman, and I love that.
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(1 comment | comment on this)
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| Saturday, August 8th, 2009
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11:01 pm - Writer's Block: Jury Duty
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