Due to some real-life issues, this journal is permanently closed. I'm in the process of locking it down, and after that, don't expect to see anything else.

I <3 all of ye.

Well, it seems I am an e-bay virgin no longer. Frustrated by my lack of success in hunting up a copy of the cult movie, "Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead", I finally turned e-bay as a last resort. And huzzah! They had many, many copies, for very reasonable prices. So I opened an account, placed my bid, and now I just have to sit back and cross my fingers against the prospect of my being outbid. I kinda doubt that will happen, though. Nobody's even heard of the play, much less the movie.

It's brilliant, though...the play, that is, not the movie. I haven't exactly seen the movie yet, so I shall have to wait and see. But given that it's a freaking incredible Tom Stoppard play, and it starts Tim Roth AND Gary Oldman...I doubt I shall be disappointed. Because Gary Oldman is just one of those really cool and talented actors, and I like Tim Roth on general principle. I mean...Tim Roth! *glee!*

I'm extremely tired, but I don't want to go to bed yet. It smells like blue paint upstairs.

...not that blue paint smells any differently than other colored-paint, but it's like m&m's...the taste remains the same, but the perception of the taste is what changes. Therefore, blue paint smells like regular paint, only I perceive it as smelling of blue.

Good lord. I really do need sleep. It worries me that the last paragraph I wrote actually makes sense right now, because I'm reading back over it and I can SEE that it makes no sense at all. Ngahhhhh. My brain is all melty.

I want my tablet to be working again! I can't do decent photomanipulations anymore without it...and kiss digital coloring goodbye. It kinda makes me wish I hadn't gotten so dependent on it, because I am now incapable of doing anything artistic with just my lowly mouse. *le sigh*

Alan Cumming is going to play Nightcrawler in the next X-Men movie! Alan Cumming! The pretty Scottish guy from Broadway's "Cabaret"...as Nightcrawler! Whee! *bouncy bounce bounce* This makes my little fangirl day.

In other news, I've been oddly domestic lately. I baked lemon bars yesterday and cooked dinner tonight, and I put primer on the walls of my bathroom so I can paint them blue tomorrow. The weird thing was I had fun doing all of this. Normally I'm not the domestic type. But...*shrug* Painting the walls was oddly satisfying work, and the lemon bars were a big hit with my parents, who learned long ago not to expect any decent baking from me. So yay for that.

Although...I had a typical Kathleen moment while painting today. Scenario: Kathleen painting walls of bathroom. Objects involved: one cordless telephone, placed too far away to be reached; one tall, rickety ladder; one paint dish full of primer, balanced carefully on top of said ladder; and one great big klutz (me). Basically, I was perched on the ladder, painting my little heart out, when the phone rang. I scrambled down the ladder, realized I'd left the paint pan on top of it, and while I was trying to decide whether or not to go for the phone or the pan, I bumped into the ladder with my shoulder. And in one evil, horrrible, slow-motion moment, the dish wobbled, wobbled...and then flipped, dumping primer all over the ladder, the floor, and, of course, me.

Thank god I covered everything with plastic, otherwise my dad would've killed me.

I cleaned everything up eventually, and even managed to salvage most of the primer. The ladder will be okay, although it's difficult to tell about my skin yet. Today's fun fact: primer is DAMN hard to get off your skin. I've gotten most of it off, although it will take a while yet to get it off my hands and arms. There will be no saving my jeans, unfortunately (although...I rather like the great, big white handprint I left on them by accident...), but that's what you get when you go for home decorating projects.

The worst part of the whole escapade? After I finally made it to the phone, covered in primer and cursing a blue streak, the person on the other end of the line turned out to be...a telemarketer. Gahhhhhhhh.

Other than my Big Primer Adventure, the day was nicely mild. I finally got the windsheild of my car repaired, and if I keep the advertising sticker in my windsheild for 90 days, they'll give us a $100 dollar rebate. The 'rents are quite happy about this. We also had the windows of the house cleaned, and while it took forever, the guy who came to clean was really nice. And Jake came over to keep me company, 'cause I couldn't leave the house while Alan the Window Guy was working. We watched "Black Hawk Down", and talked about Diablo II (my new obsession), movies, religion and my sketchbook (cause we're random like that. heh).

Speaking of my sketchbook...I'm about five pages away from being done with this one. It's strange...it's been a very long time since I've gone through a sketchbook in less than a year. I bought this one when I went back to school after winter break (or sometime around then), which means this is the most I've drawn in a really long time. It makes me proud, in a weird sort of way. Looking back through the pages, I can actually see the improvement I've been making. Which is just...well, it's great. I've been so terrified that my drawing skills were slipping, since I haven't been to an art class in ages, but knowing that I've pushed myself to improve--and that I can actually SEE the improvement--it makes me happy. I get onto myself about drawing a LOT, since I don't think I'm nearly as good as I want to be, but I like seeing that improvement. It gives me hope.

Or something.

Oooooh, Dad is watching my "Jurassic Park" dvd...I may have to go and join him, since this happens to be one of my favoritest movies ever. Screw plotlines...I just think the dinosaurs are pretty.

:)

Yay! New icon! Kurt Wagner, aka Nightcrawler. How can you not love a man who is blue and fuzzy and has pointy ears and can teleport?

Rhetorical question. Heh.

I told Jake I might do something with him today, but I'm slowly coming to the realization that all I really want to do is get to work on my bathroom. Now that I've masked everything off, I'm itching to prime the walls and start slathering some paint on there. It's blue paint! BLUE!

I reeeeeeeaaaaaaally like the color blue.

God, I need more coffee.

"...Beelzebub has a devil put aside for me; for me; for meeeeeeeeeeee..."

And headbanging ensues. This song has been stuck in my head all day.

So. I got back from Ashland yesterday, and I have to admit that I had a damn good time. I really love that town, and it was great to see Karen, Steven and Brendan again. Bren cracks me up...he reminds me of Jake, what with the slight computer-nerdiness and love of drama and the smart-ass attitude. He and I spent quite a bit of time goofing around on his computer, creating a Sims neighborhood based on Agatha Christie's 'The Mousetrap" and then freaking out when Christopher Wren set the house on fire twice. It's strange to think that Brendan is the same age as Claire's little brother Michael...both are fourteen, but Brendan seems way beyond Mike. Maybe it's the lack of teenage angst...instead of being grouchy all the time, Bren is just goofy. I've decided that he is another one of my unofficial little brothers, since I have none of my own.

In addition to just hanging out with the Goods, we also had a chance to explore Ashland (I ate pie for lunch! Yay!) and...we saw Macbeth! In the New Theater! Macbeth in the New Theater! *bounces* It was marvelous...not quite as good as The Tempest was last year, but then I've always preferred The Tempest in general. But this performance was still absolutely fantastic; I was most impressed with the way they staged it. The New Theater is a theater in the round, with a small circular dias set in the middle of the theater and surrounded by seats. There were no sets, minimal costume changes, and a cast of only 6 people. And in the center of the stage, there was a vat of blood (stage blood, of course, but creepy nonetheless). Anytime a character was killed, the actors dipped into the vat and pantomimed the killing, smearing the doomed person with blood. By the end of the play, the stage was covered in gore, and every character was smeared with red.

Which was BRILLIANT! Given the dark themes of Macbeth, I thought this was one of the most innovative ways anyone could stage the play. The lack of sets made us focus on the characters themselves, and the inner workings of their mind. Macbeth and Lady Macbeth both ended up covered in blood from their initial murder of Duncan, and this red brand stayed on them through the entirety of the play, a physical reminder of their brutal actions. I loved the repetition of Banquo's ghost; that isn't something outlined in the original play, but I liked the nicely symmetrical arc it lent the action. The fact that all the actors ended up marked with stage blood was a wonderful way of showing the audience that every character in the play, from the most innocent to the furthest damned, is stepped in blood in some way. No one escapes.

And the final scene, with just the crown laying tarnished in the blood...ooooh, it gave me shivers. This was some good stuff.

Karen and Steven told us that next year they plan to perform A Midsummer Night's Dream for the festival. Maybe then we can actually see more than one play during our stay. We tried desperately to get tickets to Noises Off or As You Like It, but all the performances going on the weekend we were there were, alas, sold out. I would say "grr", but it's okay, as I had a good time anyway.

Tomorrow I hope to paint my bathroom...it's gonna be BLUE! Bright, bright blue! Soon as I get the paint on, I can select the comic book art I'm going to scan, print and frame to put in there for decoration. I was orignally going to go for something a little more classic, but I adore this shade of blue so much that I'm going to go more avant garde instead. And since Mom and Dad gave up all creative control...let's just say I'm going to make the most of this opportunity.

"...i'm just a poor boy, nobody loves me..."

Song is still stuck in my head. Woe is me.

Off to Ashland! Huzzah! *does the happy Shakespeare dance*

Cleaned the house yesterday, and listened to the "Phantom" soundtrack the entire time as Dad borrowed my car to get the brakes checked and all my good cds were in there. I love the Phantom's laugh. It makes me go all smiley for some reason. During the performance of "Il Muto", for example, when he makes Carlotta's voice turn into that of a toad...immediatly after, he just sniggers, and it's so weird and happy-sounding and insane. I love it.

I mean, it's not his fault that he's utterly bugfuck. And he sounds so cute when he laughs. I want to pat him on his little scarred head. Which is not weird at all. Nope.

Hm, my hair is being weird today. When I woke up this morning, it was defying all known laws of physics and sticking straight up. It's cooperating now, but I've got my eye on it. You never know when it may do something crazy.

Speaking of crazy...I've become fascinated by the socio-political constructs surrounding treatment of the mentally ill during the Victorian era. It's interesting in a disturbing, car-accident sort of way, and now I want to go and visit all these old insane asylums and read medical records about their patients.

That is all.

I just received a call from our local army recruiter guy. He asks if I'm still going to college. I say, "yep". What am I majoring in? "English," I say, and then on a whim, add, "and computer science." Am I going to be a teacher? asks army recruiter guy. "Nope," says I. Oh. Then...what am I going to do with an English major? "I plan to go into software design," I say cheerfully, even though the thought hasn't really ever crossed my mind before.

Army recruiter guy pauses. "So...I guess that means you're not interested in joining the army, then?"

"Nope!" I suppose I should feel guilty for being so damn chipper about it, but really...they wouldn't want me in their army anyway. I don't do well with following orders, and I would doodle on the walls of my room.

Army recruiter guy asks if any of my friends would be interested in joining the army. I think about my friends for a minute. "Um...nooooooooo. I don't think so."

He politely thanks me for my time, and we hang up.

Then I bust up laughing. Poor army recruiter guy. He didn't stand a chance.

I'm beginning to worry that the plants at The House are going to die. Gah. Stupid heat. I don't know what to do with ze plants anymore. I've tried watering at different times of the day in the hopes that the water wouldn't evaporate so quickly. It didn't work. Then I tried giving them more water, and varying the watering instruments I used. That didn't work either. I've tried esoteric rituals and chants...

Well, I didn't try that, but I'm beginning to consider it. The plants are drying out like crazy, and one of them is this close to calling it quits. I swear, if these plants pull through by the time The Owners come back, I'm going to proclaim it a miracle and rejoin the Catholic church. Yeesh.

I have lots more to write, but it all concerns wierd emotional stuff, and I don't feel like getting into it right now. At least not until I've had the chance to talk everything over with the people concerned. So, for now, I believe I shall leave this entry at my impending Catholic relapse, and wander off to reread all the "Hellblazer" comics I bought the other day.

I cut my hair! *does the drastic haircut dance* Now that the post-haircut anxiety attack has passed, I like my new cut very muchly. It's new, and different, and short...man, I should have chopped it all off a long time ago. I feel so girly now! :P

My daily multivitamin pill smells exactly like fish food.

I worry about this.

People I wish I could draw like: Mike Mignola, Jim Mahfood, Clive Barker, Jill Thompson, Charles Vess, Neil Gaiman, Dave Mckean, Jhonen Vasquez, Guy Davis, Michael Zulli, Marc Hempel, Roman Dirge...

People I can draw like: Me.

*siiiiiigh*

I love Young Justice. Seriously. Young Justice is the bubblegum fluff to my Sandman, Hellblazer and JtHM. Today in the comic book store (which is officially my favoritest store besides Powells), Mike the Comic Book Guy was sorting through my selections and commenting on my good taste (Uncanny X-Men, bought because I liked the cover art; several of the newer Hellblazer issues, and issue one of the new Chamber arc). I replied that he might want to reconsider that when he reached the two Young Justice collections. Mike the Comic Book guy laughed and said that everyone needs lighter reading of some type. "True, true," I said. "And anyway, how can you not like Young Justice? They're all so cute!"

Pause.

"You know," Mike the Comic Book guy said thoughtfully. "I've heard Young Justice described as many, many things, and 'cute' has never been one of them. Most people reserve cute for Sailor Moon, or Card Captor Sakura."

I snorted. "I don't think they're cute; I think they're annoying." And with that, I officially became Mike the Comic Book Guy's new best friend.

One thing I forgot about comic stores...all the action figures! Good lord, I have no idea what I'm going to do when I actually get a regular paycheck. All my money will go towards books, comics, movies and action figures. Once upon a time I would have listed music in there, but that's what the cd burner is for. Heh.

Other than my brief sojourn into comics-land, the day was nicely uneventful. I hung out with Terra and Tigger quite a bit, to make up for the fact that my allergies were bothering me so much that I couldn't stay over at The House last night. I removed my crazy red nail polish, and replaced it with crazy blue. I paid my Visa bill, ensuring that my credit will remain in good standing for yet another month. All in all, a pleasant Monday.

Mom just had me water her plants. Normally, this wouldn't be of any sort of interest whatsoever, except that I seem to have developed the habit of talking to them. The plants, I mean. Not the nice, new-age, "talk to your plants so they will feel loved and nurtured"-type talking, either. More the "Fear me, little plants, for I and I alone hold the key to your life and death! Muahahahaha!"-type talking.

In a Russian accent, no less.

This doesn't bother me, of course. Having grown up as an only child, I'm used to doing all sorts of weird shit to keep myself entertained. It's not that I'm particularly bored, but simply that I think talking to plants in a Russian accent is funny as hell, because if the plants were aware of it, I'm sure they'd think it was funny too. So as the scenario plays out, I'm standing out on our front steps with a watering can, demanding that Mom's dahlias worship me, when some of our neighbors walk by with their son.

Me: "Drink, leetle plants! DREEEEEEEEENK! I am your God! I and only I can provide you with the sweeeet, sweeeeeet water of life! YOU WILL FEAR AND OBEY ME!"

Neighbor Mom (whispering to her husband): "Just keep walking, and maybe she won't notice us."

Neighbor Kid: "Who is that lady talking to the plants, Mommy?"

Neighbor Mom (walking faster): "Just the crazy Parham girl. Don't you worry, little Timmy. Once fall comes, she'll be gone for good, and then you can ride your bike outside again."

Me: *cackle*

For the record, the neighbor kid's name is not Timmy, and as far as I know, his parents don't let him ride his bike around because they're afraid he will be fatally clumsy and crack his head open on the sidewalk or something. But I like to think they won't let him ride it because of me.

And to think I used to babysit for them. Hmph.

Damn you sinuses...damn you to...to...Delaware!

Heh. Delaware. I would have said 'hell', but that's not strong enough. Delaware it is.

I hung out with Jake today, which was highly entertaining seeing as we basically just played with my cd burner and then went out for pizza...but we managed to make this take up an entire afternoon (what with our crazy multitasking and all). We managed to put together the penultimate Metallica mix (not the ultimate ultimate, because the cd could only be so long), and I made him help me water all the plants at the House I Am Taking Care Of.

I like to put random things in capital letters.

I've decided that tomorrow is going to be a low-key day, because it's supposed to be quite hot out and I don't function well in heat. My brain melts, or something like that. It's yicky. I shall venture out occasionally to take Terra for a walk, and I may even risk a run over to the comic book store (yay comics!), but otherwise I plan to hunker down inside with the air conditioning on, and justify this to myself by claiming I need to stay inside so I can "clean my room".

Right. Like my room will ever be "clean". I think the best I can hope for is "mildly cluttered".

I like to put random things in quotes as well.

OW! A mosquito just bit me! Why are there mosquitoes (okay, a single mosquito, but still...) in the office? This should be a non-mosquito zone, with signs and everything. Mayhaps I need a bug-zapper in here. It would scare the hell out of the cat, but hey...everything scares the hell out of the cat. And there are eight bajillion mosquitoes in the world anyway, so we can afford to lose the few that have made their way into our office.

Aside from being food for cute things like bats, mosquitoes are not our friends...yo.

Heee..."yo"...

Hm, that was weird...my computer (and when I say 'my', I mean 'my parents'') froze for several minutes, and then decided that it was going to be unfrozen again. Odd. I truly don't understand this computer. I understand my computer, and most of the computers at school (sorta), but Harvey is just...if Harvey were a person, he'd be smoking crack on a regular basis. That's what the computer belonging to my parents is like.

Last night was my first official night of housesitting for some people in our neighborhood. It's weird staying over at someone's house when you are the only one there. It was like being in a super-nice hotel, by myself, with two really affectionate animals keeping me company. Not that bad, really, except there is a small farm just a few houses down in the cul-de-sac, and they have all these stupid chickens that won't shut up! A frigging ROOSTER woke me up at six in the morning, shrieking his everloving head off. Then the chickens started shreiking. Then the donkey started shreiking. Thank god Tigger and Terra (the cat and dog I'm taking care of) are pretty mellow, otherwise I'd have to have a nervous breakdown of some sort. Aside from the noisy farm animals, however, I'm enjoying the whole housesitting thing. The animals are adorable and I love them to peices, and so I've spent as much time as possible over there playing with them. And there is a trampoline in the backyard, so you know I've been having fun with that. Watering all the plants isn't much fun, but I have the animals to keep me company.

I can't believe it's mid-august already. Summer has gone by so freaking fast! I don't have to go back to school till late September, but still...I know plenty of people who go back in about a week, and that weirds me out. It seems like this has been a rather solitary sort of summer for me. That's not a bad thing, since I've kept myself nicely entertained, but it's slightly odd in light of all my other summers. I guess we're all just growing up, and have our own lives now. Weirdness.

Oooooh, the fresh pot of coffee is ready. Must go recaffienate myself.

I just finished going through a bunch of my scholarship and financial aid info, which meant I had to fill out lots of forms regarding my supposed major, minor and future professional career. And I realized...I don't know what the hell I want to do with my life. Seriously. It's been freaking me out lately, because I have to declare my major this fall (the school sent me a snarky letter saying so and everything), and while I know I want to major in English, I don't know what I want to do with that. I'm nineteen years old, I'm a junior in college, and I have NO CLUE what I want to do for a career.

When you get right down to it, it's a frightening thought.

It's not that there isn't anything I want to do, but that there is far too much. I can't narrow my focus...I'm fascinated by everything, and that makes it difficult to just buckle down and focus. It's not like there is one particular area that I really stand out in...if I were fantastic at art, or fantastic at writing, or fantastic at math and science...well, it would sure as hell make things easier for me to decide. But no. I'm just pretty darn good at everything, because everything interests me and I apparently learn fast. But then I can't find one single thing that suits me well enough, and so what this all basically boils down to is I DON'T KNOW WHAT I WANT TO DO WITH MY LIFE! *stress stress stress*

Well, that's enough egomania for one day. Time to finish up my chocolate soy milk (which I have become extremely fond of, by the way) and go read.

You are 64% geek

You are a geek. Good for you! Considering the endless complexity of the universe, as well as whatever discipline you happen to be most interested in, you'll never be bored as long as you have a good book store, a net connection, and thousands of dollars worth of expensive equipment. Assuming you're a technical geek, you'll be able to afford it, too. If you're not a technical geek, you're geek enough to mate with a technical geek and thereby get the needed dough. Dating tip: Don't date a geek of the same persuasion as you. You'll constantly try to out-geek the other.

Take the Polygeek Quiz at Thudfactor.com

I was actually going to write something substantial this morning, but this quiz caught my eye (it was shiny) and I was immediately sidetracked. Because...geek quiz! It's like it was made for me! *does a little geeky dance*

Aw shoot...I forgot to call Wacom customer support about the problems I'm having with my Graphire tablet. *grumbles* The stupid tablet won't register the touch of the pen, although it has no problem following the pen path or registering the eraser pressure. I hope I don't end up having to order a new pen...those are expensive.

Mmmm, David Bowie is the MAN. I've been listening to him all day, and he's just...cool. Bowie is cool. Go him.

Wow, I truly have nothing intelligent to say. It's somewhat funny, really, seeing as how last night I dreamt about being in class, arguing with a fellow student over whether or not there is an objective morality that humans should stick to. I don't remember my exact argument (I think it was something I stole from Aristotle, basically saying that there is an objective continuum that exists, and that all human standards of morality fall somewhere on that continuum where they are then judged by others), but I remember it sure sounded good. Siiiiigh. When I sleep, I dream of philosophy, but once I'm awake the best I can come up with is "Bowie is cool". Apparently, my subconscious is smarter than the rest of me.

Wait. I take that back. After I hit my sleep button this morning, I had another dream, and this one was...the Amazing and Spooky Adventures of Gothleen. Stop laughing. Stop--oh, go ahead and laugh. It's as stupid as it sounds. Basically, I dreamt I was a little poseur Gothgirl named Gothleen, and I went around being angsty and snarky at people. The entire dream was in comic book format...word bubbles and everything! Gothleen likes to say "ennui" a lot, because she is half French-Canadian, and thinks she can get away with things like that.

I think I have finally discovered my evil alter-ego.

Fear my Invader Zim notebook that has pink pages! FEAR IT!!!! *cackles*

I love Hot Topic. They have more Zimmy merchandise than you can shake a stick at. Not that I particularly want to shake sticks at Zim, but...you get the idea. Who the hell comes up with all these weird sayings, anyway? *ponder ponder ponder*

Gah. Need sleep. Will write coherent things tomorrow.