| Take of this text and read it; this is my word-vomit, which shall be given up to you. |
[15 Oct 2008|07:14pm] |
What a day, what a day, what a day day day.
Let's preface this with the fact that I didn't sleep last night. So I'm running two bales short of a bushel already, whatever the fuck that means.
I must have drifted off for about forty minutes near 8:00 AM, because I got out of bed at 8:40 feeling pretty pissed off. I yelled at the cat. I yelled at my towels. I yelled at a shoe. I yelled at everything that was even tangentially related to me being up at this ungodly hour. I rushed through a shower (yelling at the water intermittently) then tossed on some semi-somber clothes so mom and Nia could cart me over to St Tim's for Gino's funeral mass. Once I got in the car, that first wave of desperate exhaustion-energy swept over me, and I was just a god-damn tsunami of joie-de-vivre and bons mots. MAIS OUI, MOTHERFUCKERS.
The musicians at the church were the most amazing, hilarious things my hyperbole could ever hope for. On some kind of guitar-esque instrument we had a massive Polynesian gentleman with a dulcet voice who played his songs in 4/4 time, and accompanying him on piano was a wiry little Filipino fellow who insisted on playing all the same songs in 3/4 time. Simultaneously. And neither would yield to the other. Amazing. Better still were the odd kind of folk-rock arrangements all the hymns had. When combined with the occasional Gregorian-style chant-delivery of portions of the ceremony from the priest, the whole thing was basically just a sort of low-end Andrew Lloyd Webber musical. (Oh, Catholicism; how can you lure The Gays so near, and yet push them away so far?) Then Wiry Piano Man busted out with such a bizarre, warbling, heavily-accented little performance of "Wind Beneath My Wings" that my mother and I nearly peed.
The mass was pretty much as expected, except for the preparation of the Communion. Everything was going along like normal until he finished his "take of this bread and eat it..." bit; when he raised up the Host, out of nowhere this fuckin' ear-splitting bell rings. Then again with the communion wine. "Take of this wine," raise it to heaven, RRRRRRRIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGG. Nia and I could barely contain ourselves. I mean, Catholicism is always all about the ~*~mystery~*~ of Faith and the supposed ~*~miracle~*~ of Transubstantiation; but this was basically one step away from having another priest jumping up from behind the first one, throwing out a handful of glitter, and going "MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMAGIC!!!!!!!!"
I hadn't eaten yet, and the Body of Christ wasn't really transubstantial enough to ease my hunger, spiritually or otherwise. I did whisper to my sister that Jesus was now part of a complete breakfast, and I may be going to hell, but it made her crack up, so it's worth it.
We got a little weepy when they wheeled out the coffin to the old Italian song "Come Back to Sorrento".
As we filed out, I noticed a big stack of "YES ON PROP 8" fliers on the tables next to the doors. I must have made a disgruntled noise, because my mom leaned over to me and whispered, "You should just take all of those." So we waited until mostly everyone had exited, and then I darted back in and just grabbed the whole stack. And then I took the sign they had planted in front of the church as well. Honestly, Catholicism; I am in NO MOOD.
The day got more somber once we hit Skylawn Cemetery for the internment. We made our way into the massive crypt area (Just a note: When I go? Don't put me in a fuckin' wall, please. Dump me in the ground and let me turn to mulch for the grass and trees as Nature intended), and looked at Gino's awaiting vault, which was right above his mother and father's final resting place. His mother's name, by the way, was also Antonia Tribuzi - and seeing my little sister's name up on a vault door while she stood nestled against me was pretty much the biggest memento mori any of us could have asked for. Yikes.
(Nia and I were both kind of charmed by some urns we saw that were shaped like books, though. "We could be on a bookshelf together," she whispered to me. "Yup," I said, "flanked by, like, Harry Potter and..." "...and A Series of Unfortunate Events." "Perfect. Sounds like a plan.")
After some more Catholic mumbo-jumbo, they gave leave for the family to say one last goodbye before Gino was hoisted up onto that waiting shelf, and Mary, his wife, went over to the coffin and just...sobbed and sobbed and gasped out his name and moaned things in Italian and my god I have never seen anything so heartbreaking as watching that woman say farewell forever to this man she had loved and lived with for at least fifty years.
We then made our way back home for a brief break, before going to Mary's house for the reception. That family, man; it is huge. And there was so much great food, and everyone was so nice. They had the cable tuned to some accordion music station (Gino played the accordion all the time, from what I hear), and right when I walked in the song changed to an accordion cover of Disney's The Three Caballeros, which a highly-irrational part of me suspects is God going "LOL, HI HEATHER, JUST CHECKING IN".
(I then had to explain to my mother what The Three Caballeros was, and how it was one of the six "package features" produced during World War II, when many of Disney's staff was either drafted or busy making propaganda for Uncle Sam, leaving the remaining Feature Film department to cobble together films made of short semi-unrelated segments to keep themselves afloat until the war had ended. "Why don't you work for Disney?" asked my mother, after a moment. First of all, because that's crap any Disney fan would know; secondly, because I hear Disney doesn't pay all that well. Then again, you know what doesn't pay well? NOT HAVING A JOB.)
During the reception, my mother kept insisting that my hair is now brown. Can those of you who know me in real life confirm or deny these reports? It's got me in a bit of a tizzy, because my father was a tow-headed youth back in the day who went suddenly, unrepentantly gray in his mid-to-late twenties, followed by a nosedive into mad-scientist-white, and lord knows I have my daddy's hands genes in spades; and while I don't doubt I could rock me some silver locks, I sure would love at least a couple good, solid decades of naturally golden goodness before I submit myself to the peroxide tank.
God, I am not even done with today yet. Can you believe that? I still have the whole second half of the day to talk about; the part where I got to meet Chris Columbus (living director; not deceased explorer) and ask him a couple of pretty good questions, and tell him I loved The Goonies and that Mrs Doubtfire meant so much to me as a little girl dealing with divorce. But I can't now, because I think my brain has flown to Peru, and I need to eat some Jell-o and watch Pushing Daisies. So maybe more tomorrow. If only for posterity's sake. 'Cause lord knows none of y'all made it through all that. In fact, I can probably say whatever I want down here! YOU ARE ALL SMELLY, AND I HATE YOU. YOUR BELOVED PET DOGS ARE UGLY. I AM MUCH COOLER THAN EVERYBODY.
Oh, and I have to talk more about Repo: The Genetic Opera tomorrow, too; also, I suspect this is something close to what being on cocaine must be like. The End.
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| Why Prop 8 Matters to Me |
[15 Oct 2008|04:39am] |
(The first in a series?)
Hi. My name is Heather. I'm pretty tall. I am really, really fond of the Walt Disney Company. I like to perform in musicals, though I wish I was a better singer. I cannot cook. At all. I have kissed boys and I have kissed girls, and found both to be pretty awesome. It is my dream to one day own a home with a library, and maybe a bookcase that hides a secret passage. I'm still not sure whether or not I want kids. I think I'm starting to get good at video editing, and I'd like to hone that skill. My favorite color is purple.
All those things up there? Are me. Equally. They all make up a part of me. But for some reason, that little bit about sometimes kissin' girls seems to get a whole bunch of people riled up. And I just don't get it.
To me, it's no big thing. Really. It's no more or less exciting than my inability to cook; no crazier than my love of video editing. I like pizza; I like Disneyland; I like girls and boys. See?
Some people don't like that. Some people think that girls kissin' girls is bad; same with boys kissin' boys. Frankly, I think quite of few of these people have a lot of hangups about anybody kissin' anybody, but that's another issue entirely. Me? I don't begrudge them their opinions. Different strokes, and all that.
What I do take issue with is when these same people try to decide what's best for me. And lately, they've decided that while I can marry a boy, I shouldn't be able to marry another girl.
"THINK OF THE CHILDREN!" they cry. "ONE MAN ONE WOMAN! GOD'S LAW! PROCREATION! SANCTITY! TRADITION! VALUES!"
These people look at marriage and see a bride and a groom; black and white. But I look at the concepts of marriage and family and see nothing but gray. I see a single father who has been left by his wife, raising his kids with the help of his mother. I see an uncle taking in his niece after the child's parents pass away. I see a husband and wife so wrapped up in their work that their daughter is more attached to the nanny than to them. I see a boy graduating from high school while his mother, father, and birth-mother look on. I see a couple who have agreed that a child-free life is their best option. I see a pair of siblings hiding from their alcoholic father. I see a little girl at the playground with her single mother. I see three kids with three different fathers trying to make themselves dinner while their mom goes out to a club for the night. I see a boy getting on a plane to spend Christmas with his dad across the country before going back to the house where his mother, step-father, and step-siblings live.
What is a family? Is it just one man, one woman, two-point-five kids, a minivan, and a dog? If that's the case, then none of the above scenarios constitutes a family, each is an equal blemish on the face of society, and any kids involved are automatically going to grow up to be depraved and maladjusted. But all these scenarios, good or bad, are legal; and all of these scenarios, if certain people were to have their way, are better than a child growing up in (or even hearing about) a household with two same-sex spouses.
What are we protecting here, exactly? It seems to be a societal pipe-dream that stopped being the norm long ago. Heck, if we get down to the real nitty-gritty, I think it's safe to say that marriage as those other folks envision it never really existed to begin with; at least not 100%. Just crack open a history book, and take a gander at how the meanings, purposes, practices, and ideas behind marriage fluctuate from era to era and culture to culture. The so-called "nuclear family" may work for some, but certainly not all, and probably not me.
I'm pretty lucky, I think. I'm wired in such a way that makes me receptive to love from twice as many people as the majority of y'all. It's interesting and frustrating and neat all at once, and I look forward to seeing where it leads me in life. One day, it may lead me to someone who is so very awesome, we'll both decide that we want to hang around and watch each other get wrinkly; and in that case I will marry that person so hard it'll make their head spin. I don't want to have to abandon that plan if my someone happens to be another girl.
Please visit NoOnProp8.com, and take a moment to maybe post a video or link or flier to your own blog, or send it out to your friends and family. Complacency is our biggest threat on this issue, and we're running out of time; polls have started to indicate that support for Prop 8 is gaining serious momentum. Please, don't let bigotry win in California on November 4th.
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| The week of activity is over. |
[14 Oct 2008|07:39pm] |
I have absolutely no news. Life has fallen into routine again and I have done nothing except do school work, work out, and go to work. With time for the guy in-between. Given, most of the school-work I am accomplishing is at work because I am so horribly bored, but this is good! I am accomplishing one of my goals, which was to have more time to get my work done.
T-minus six actual work-days left at this job. Actually, seven because I am working this Saturday, but that is fine with me because the evil doctor is not working. I hope to continue working some Saturdays with this company that way I am still somewhat employed, can contribute to my 401-K, and still can get my shots. Selfish, I tell you!
I am going to have to make some calls next week to a district or two to find out why I have not yet been called. Not yet, because I still cannot work, but definately next week.
That's all... routine is dull....
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| There we go |
[14 Oct 2008|04:41pm] |
Yay, Vimeo! Thanks ![[info]](http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) acererak!
The California Academy of Sciences from Heather Orth on Vimeo.
It seems to hiccup in a few places, or lag or something, but whatevs. I think I am going to send it to the Academy website. I mean, why not? It's not like they'll be able to laugh in my face in an e-mail.
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| Holy Crap |
[14 Oct 2008|03:28pm] |
First of all...I own a pair of fingerless Rent gloves. Like, they are those standard ridiculous hobo-chic fingerless gloves with R-E-N-T spelled out over the knuckles. This made me laugh so hard I couldn't breathe for a few seconds. (Guys, my memory is totally failing. Who the hell gave me those? Reynaldi? When? And why? I can't recall for the life of me. But whoever you are, thank you; they are more hilarious than I could ever have dreamed, and I will wear them every night I see San Mateo's version.)
Anyway. I came across the gloves while looking for my rosary (I got it after completing my three-in-one Catholicism quick-course when I was seventeen), as I am apparently going to a "Rosary" tonight; part one of the two-part Catholic funeral for Til's Uncle Gino, who passed away Sunday morning. Sadness. I can't for the life of me find the rosary, though, which is driving me crazy. It's not like it's something I would throw away. I mean, I may not be a very good Catholic (or even a Catholic at all, really), but I've still got enough of the old visions of fire and brimstone embedded in me to not actually throw a crucifix into the trash. So I'm a bit baffled. Not that it would have done me much good, really. I don't even know the rosary. But I was all stoked about being prepared nonetheless.
I'm a little wigged about viewing the body. My Gammy, bless her, was a Catholic through and through, but hated being the center of attention; so instead of going for the full, epic Catholic funeral, she requested to be immediately cremated and then remembered in as low-key a fashion as possible. There was no "Vigil", and no viewing. I wasn't hugely close to Gino - I saw him every now and then, and he was a great guy; the last time we met, I think, was when he came to see Millie - but the idea of having to see him when he's not...well, him anymore is kind of freaking me out just a touch. There hasn't been a lot of death in my life yet, thank heavens, so it's not something I've had practice in dealing with.
Honestly, what did I do with that rosary?? Man. F in Religious Accoutrements, me.
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| Good Quote |
[14 Oct 2008|09:32am] |
I have had this one for years, but it popped up in my quotes of the day today.
"If my doctor told me I had only six minutes to live, I wouldn't brood. I'd type a little faster." - Isaac Asimov
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[13 Oct 2008|11:01pm] |
Okay, so, My Own Worst Enemy turns out to be rather good.
And I don't just say that because I used to cut Christian Slater's pictures out of Tiger Beat.
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| The future has arrived! And it's all bogged down in legal jargon! |
[13 Oct 2008|06:40pm] |
So I went to the new California Academy of Sciences yesterday, and it was uber-neat, and I made a pretty nifty video of my day set to a song from the Meet the Robinsons soundtrack, and neither Google nor YouTube will allow the upload, because that song apparently is one of the many protected by that video/audio matching thing they're doing, where they have a database of copyrighted material and they'll run your upload through to see if it matches anything. I...am irked. Especially as there are a ton of other videos with songs by the same artist on them; though I suppose they were uploaded before the sites got all crafty.
Honestly. I mean, I'm not turning a profit with this - it's just underscoring some video of me and my friends goofing around...but I really have no idea if it would fall under the blanket of "fair use" as it stands now. Grr.
Well, it's up on Facebook, if anyone wants to go see it there. If you can't access it, but still would like to see it, let me know and I'll send you the original file.
Edit: God, I went through, like, five sites before I got this one: http://www.vidiLife.com/video_play_1260513_California_Academy_of_Sciences.htm?tc=1161006
I've been perusing the 'net, and my use of the song seems like it's not "fair use". But YouTube and Google and all those other hosting sites have only recently starting cracking down on that via the content-blocker, it seems. Fuckin'-a. I fear for my future Disney montages.
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| bored.... |
[13 Oct 2008|04:23pm] |
HELP.
I feel like I am going to meld into the chair.
My brain feels like mush.
My eyes hurt from looking at nothing on this screen for 7 hours.
I have to do laundry.
I have to change over my clothes from summer to winter. I will then have at least 3 bags of clothes for donation.
I have work to do!
And still, here I sit, getting paid to be bored. There are certainly worse things but this is annoying.
Bright side: getting PAID.
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[13 Oct 2008|09:00am] |
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Today I will be officially declaring my major. It's really real.
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| Dear IT Agency recruiters... |
[13 Oct 2008|05:48pm] |
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* When you advertise as an IT Agency, and your website says that you are an IT Agency, please do not try to tell me that you are not an IT Agency.
* When you tell me that you are offering to put me forward for a contract, please do not really mean a permanent position.
* When you state that you are offering a package, please do not include Superannuation in that 'package'. Super is a Federal Government requirement, and as such is not legally part of any package (unless you are offering above and beyond the Government requirement, which you are not).
* When you say that the amount you are offering is the cash amount, please do not then turn around and say that it is the Base-rate plus shares and Super (see last point).
* Please do not use the word 'over-qualified', as there is no such thing for a 3 month contract. If I can do the work, I can do the work, and 3 months is (literally) tomorrow.
* When you advertise a requirement of 'Min 3 years in Support', please do not tell me that I have too much experience unless you actually mean 'between 1-3 years'
* When you ask me how much money I am asking, please do not push this issue when I state that 'money is commensurate to the position'. As I have explained on a number of occasions, this changes depending on the actual position, and you can always put "$Neg" in the pigeon-hole electronic box that you need to fill.
* Further, when I say that my rate for a position would be between $x & $y, please do not insist on putting the higher rate down and then (when I call back) say I am overpriced because of the higher rate you insisted on entering.
* When saying that you're offering a package for the position I am interested in, please have the details of the package available instead of just waffling about, trying to deflect the question, and finally falling back on 'I have to ask my MD, but it's around that amount' - which simply says that you have no idea.
* When I submit an application stating that I am only interested in contract opportunities with your agency, do NOT put me forward for a permanent position.
* When you ask what would change my mind about permanent positions, please expect me to give you a polite and yet honest answer, including what I expect from a permanent position.
* Please do not tell me that people are expected to work for up to 4 hours per day outside their agreement for no remuneration. This is not the 1980's and you are not Gordon Gekko.
* When you use the word 'guarantee', please ensure that you know the correct meaning of the word, and have some idea as to what you will give me in recompense if you fail on your guarantee.
* When you advertise a contract or position at 11am, please do not tell me that the client withdrew the position yesterday... as I have the proof otherwise on the screen in front of me.
* When you say that you will continue to put me forward for other contracts, please do so. That way, when I see an ad for another contract (which I am qualified for) I will not expect to have you say: "...but I have put you forward for one already." After all, if I get placed, you get the $.
* When I arrive wearing a suit and tie, sit straight in the chair, am polite and ask intelligent questions, please do not insult me by saying that I am too laid back. Just admit that you have someone already in mind for the position.
* When you say "I will call you back", have the common courtesy to do so.
There are more... but it would start sounding even *more* nit-picky.
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| say more cusses |
[12 Oct 2008|08:52pm] |
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I spent most of my shift at work writing a paper. I was typing in my e-mail, depending on gmail's autosave function to save it as I went. Well, internet explorer just "encountered a problem and had to close" and it turns out gmail wasn't autosaving (at least, not since 5pm when I had only a basic outline finished) and my whole paper is gone. Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.
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[12 Oct 2008|04:25pm] |
Had a bit of a relapse yesterday afternoon and just felt tired and achy all over again. Plus I could not get my feet warm for anything. I had a heating pad, my corduroy quilt, and a down comforter wrapped around my feet and lower legs and they just felt like ice. That happens to me every once in a while -- I wonder whether it's a circulation thing. For the most part I do not have a problem with being cold, given all my extra padding; it is usually the other way around. But my feet - that's a different story.
I've been haunted all day by Mia Zapata because a friend posted a link on Facebook to the video that was played in the courtroom during her murderer's sentencing. I had never seen it before. I've never really taken the time to listen to the Gits before but now I am hooked. Some small part of me thinks it would be cool if she knew that there are still new people who she touches with her voice, even 15 years after her death.
I just got home from work, and I'm doing some laundry and am about to start on some homework while that goes on. It's a nice fall day.
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| Sad times! |
[12 Oct 2008|06:50pm] |
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Balder is pooping and peeing outside the litter box despite our efforts to teach him not to, before he only did it in the hallway but today he peed on a basic cooler in the washing room. It won't work and we are devastated. His surviving litter mate isn't using the litter box properly. :(
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| sigh |
[12 Oct 2008|02:47am] |
Work sucked today. That is all I have to say about that.
I felt like complete ass starting around noonish and that feeling has not subsided. I am tired, oh so tired of being sick, but I feel that way and I just wish it would go away. I got really sick this afternoon and with a great deal of effort worked my way through the gaming club. It was a good night for gaming, just a bad night for Shonda, the entire time I was either really hot or cold, I was shaking, I felt weak, just sickly...and I am...
I am just sick and ill and I wish I werent.
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| A BIT OF FUN !!!! |
[12 Oct 2008|05:43pm] |
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mood |
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music |
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Heart Shaped Box Evanescence Cover |
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I KNOW IT'S OLD BUT IT'S STILL FUN !!!
I AM A GORGEOUS BEAUTY QUEEN WHO LIKES BONDAGE.
Find the second letter in your first name...
A-Beautiful
B-Ugly
C-Pretty
D-Jewish
E-Gorgeous
F-Hot
G-Boyish
H-Preppy
I-Girly
J-Seductive
K-Punky
L-Popular
M-Slutty
N-Nerdy
O-Retarded
P-Gay
Q-Lesbian
R-Sexy
S-Lesbian
T-Emo
U-Christian
V-Wonderful
W-Geeky
X-Bitchy
Y-Under-appreciated
Z-Over-appreciated
Now the second letter in your last name...
A-Slut
B-Bitch
C-Boy
D-Obsesser
E-Sex machine
F-Retard
G-Girl
H-Jew
I-Geek
J-Goth
K-Nerd
L-Motherfucker
M-Heartbreaker
N-Crackwhore
O-Beauty Queen
P-Punk
Q-Queen
R-Alcoholic
S-Princess
T-Fucker
U-Asshole
V-Jackass
W-Babe
X-Scaredy-cat
Y-Coward
Z-Chocoholic
Now...What's Your Fav. Color...
Red- Who Likes It In The Butt
Blue- Who Will Do Anything For Sex
Orange- Whos Good With My Hands
Yellow- Who Wants To Have Sex With You
Green- Who Masterbates At Work
Pink- Who Looks At Porn 24/7
Purple- Who Will Rock Your World
Black- Who Likes Bondage
White- Who Will Do Anything For Crack
NOW REPOST THIS WITH THE NAME & STATEMENT YOU GOT BEGINNING WITH "I AM A ..."
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| A post before bed |
[12 Oct 2008|01:03am] |
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( Halloween Meme )
I'm sore all over might be from when we went to the gym the other day, my throat is sore and I have a temperature around 38.1 C or about 100.58 F it might sound like much but for a coldblooded person like me it is and I'm rather tired from it... or could it have something to do with it being almost 1:10 AM... Nah I didn't think so either but you never know... ;-)
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