Whiny, emo Journal!

I usually don't write poetry, but this came to me while I was at work and I wanted to formalize it.


The lovers who still love
and the dreamers who still dream
the thinkers and the ponderers
their minds still keen to preen
have hope because they worry
the world will burst at seam
hope needs and hope wanes
lost on money and on fame
for the lovers and the thinkers
for them the hope is plain

Hope for sunsets
hope for peace
hope for people in far places
waiting in their seats
patiently
to see whose hope theirs will meet
the dreamers will dream
and the lovers will weep
the thinkers will ponder
and ponders think
of days future rescued
from oceans deep
of hate and ruin and abysmal defeat
our bodies
our souls
minds blood and breath
we must keep
for out of us coldly
our humanity seeps

seeps into the air
drawn out by the creep
a black flowing lies
terrible secrets made neat
to send back to us our hope
corrupted and bleak
changed and hidden
to cover our defeat
we wallow in it
we embrace
our subjugation to the face
of evil we cannot see

this we cannot be!
slaves to freedom
faith to belief
the blind who are able to see
as complex as the contradiction
slaves to hypocrisy
but then hope
then dreams
deep inside where only hope can be
hope of tomorrow
hope of green
hope of trees
hope of sleep
hope fueled by anger
given to fight the creep

we must and we will
or our dark fate we shall meet.

I thought it was kinda cool. :P

I'm thinking of picking up writing 'regularly' in this journal again, maybe actually post some pictures or entertainment, but we'll see how that comes along. I kinda only make entries when I have something particularly bothering me or stuck on my mind with no one to share these thoughts and when Further Confusion rolls around stuff just comes up.

Hell, I didn't even finish writing about last year.

I have to say this year's con was not quite as amazing as previous years for me, but I enjoy the feeling of con familiarity. Mikey didn't go again this year since he had to work alot, but along with that he hasn't been too wrapped up in the furry lately. I have found myself stuck to work and school and that along with WoW wanes my interest in the finer points of the fandom. But I still loves furs and cons, and I still have things lined up to do, so I'm thinking next year will be the year.

What's really really cool is FC is beginning to become too big for its britches and I think next year is gonna be the last one at the San Jose Doubletree before the convention blossoms into something even I can't wrap my whole head around.

*sigh* I must work now, and when I get home I need to at least get a good start on my current programming assignment I've been puttin' off for the convention. This year was good. I saw people I haven't seen in ages and every day around every elevator door and hall I see people I haven't seen there ever.

I'll see if I can get a nice detail post about this year going, but today through half of Wednesday if booked solid with work, so organizing con thoughts and items will have to wait until then.

When Further Confusion comes around, things get weird whether or not I want them to. Like, dancing. I've found I have a thirst for it, especially when I can wave around glowsticks and everyone looks at me like its a normal thing.

Ill talk about the con later after it's done and my home work is out of the way, but I feel I need to make a entry really fast for two reasons:

My last post was kinda hostile and I wanted to add something recent that wasn't so hating and two, I found a dead cat on our side-yard. The kitty was laid on his side, tail straight behind and tongue slightly sticking out. It's like he just lay down and died. *sniff* It was so sad I just stopped and stared for about a minute. I couldn't stop thinking if there were a way to save it; he didnt look so old. His fur was matted and clumped by days of rain and his eyes were open; the side of his face pressed into the concrete.

Like he just lied down in the rain by our trash cans and expired. I can only hope by old age, but something made me feel like I has neglected him somehow. It's not my cat, but the way he was lying there....fuck.

Our backyard is mostly cement with a pool, but a large area is dirt with clovers and weeds growing copiously under, through and around strips of weed-block matting. I stared out the back sliding glass door trying to think of whose kitty and which of the several that roam the neighborhood it might be. I thought about wrapping him in a trashbag and just tossing it into the can but it felt wrong. I started to cry standing there thinking about all this and my thoughts turned to burial.

I thought about how deep I'd have to go, but stupidly not about my clothes getting dirty. I do still want to go to the con today. So I dug him a grave about two and a half feet deep amidst the muddy weeds, pulling up the weed-block mat. I worked hard and fast with dripping tears for some persons kitty, sweating and finally removing my shirt after splattering it with a little muddy water.

I picked up his cold, stiff body, eyes still open, ears to the front. Like he just lay down and die.....

I don't know why I feel so much emotion for a fucking dead cat. It's really annoying when you think about it, about to go party on the last day of the con with my new skills, coming across this cat who just expired on the side of our house. I think he /was/ old, it's solace to me.

I lay him down in this little hole, feet up a little; it wasn't quite big enough sideways and cried as I buried him, filling the head-side last packing down as I went. When I finished, I outlined the hold with rocks that were being used to hold down the weed-block, throwing the long black fabric strips into the trash. Not like they ever worked anyways.

I tried to get some of the trash up, but some laundry in and scrubbed my shoes clean. I'm trying to dry them now, but they keep hitting the dryer door and opening it even though I added some towels for padding. My clothes are almost done, I need to get ready.

I'm gonna have a good time tonight knowing I'm glad I did what I did. The grave is a little ugly, but in time more plants will grow among the rocks and the dirt will dry and compact sealing his furry body beneath our yard.

I'm hoping when someone comes to find their cat, I can tell them where he is, and the can come see him and they'll be thankful I did a good thing for him.

I'm such a softy. I suppose its fitting for a creature whose existence was changed to fit our human aesthetics - here to keep us company.

Respect life, love it, care for it, cause fuck man, it's all there is.

Sometimes I take things out of context and sometimes I overreact and I'm usually able to realize this after whatever it is I'm having issues with is over.

But by far, the worst thing I do in regards to overreaction is dramatize something that's true, because then I know I'm right in feeling quite justified for being angry. Nothing is more infuriating then being told to calm down about something that is unfair when its truth is blaring you in the face.

In this case, this problem is compounded because I know I have life pretty easy comparatively. The second most infuriating thing is to be reminded how good you have it when you bitch about wrongs that have been done to someone.

Everything is an annoyance. Hostile feelings are not released in a proper way. I'm constantly angry, then reprieved by some reminder of why I shouldn't be, so the anger isn't released and instead is left to ferment until some excuse to release itself.

I suppose this is an emotional problem I've had for awhile. I'm a generally chill person if not over-nervous about something small or perturbed by too many things at once. But I have no real way of releasing hostile energy well, or quelling the buildup.

Am I angrier than in the past? More excitable?

I've always loved the idea of being the person who is bothered by almost nothing and only the stuff that's really important to me. I've wanted that feeling; the ability to let events wash over me and people pass unnoticed, the thought of hostility non-exisitant.

Too emotionally quick. Five minutes later and I can't hold onto the anger from most things. If I do, the feelings return instead of staying constant. Now depression! There's an emotion I love to hold onto and anger and depression go hand in hand.

I hope the things I get angry about don't turn out to be too trivial. I'm simply tired of unnecessary annoyances. They buildup and can't pass and I go insane.

I'm starving and not hungry at the same time. Goddammit.

So I've discovered this band called "Keane." Now I can tell people I like this band rather than Coldplay so I don't sound as simplistic as their music. Keane tends to be a little less repetitive but just as passionate and powerful with their music. And, they've got that melancholy kick I seem to be drawn to...

"Nothing In My Way" is my fav so far, I'm trying to get more of their music and some headphones so I can jam it on my iPod. Pretty.

Apparently there's this genre of piano rock from Western Europe that consists of Coldplay and Keane and at least several other bands I would guess. I'll need t investigate that later I
suppose.

Also, more's coming on FC2007, I just haven't felt the need to spend time on the essay for Saturday right now, but I haven't forgotten, it's coming. :)

The day goes well and it is in motion still. My health teacher didn't show up today and no one came to tell the full class about anything at all - cause not a teacher or administrator came /to/ say anything - but I had no complaints. Almost like clockwork right at 15 minutes into a class with no teacher like it's one of those unsaid things everyone surmises eventually, everyone began to get up almost at the same time. I should say that every teacher I've asked told me there's no official time when the students should go, but everyone seems to agree that 15 minutes is about the cutoff. I already had a roll sheet ready and announced that everyone could sign it to let the instructor know they showed if they were heading out.

It was funny how their attention all turned at me at the same time, and one referred to me as "in charge" off-handedly I overheard. I'd guess they're freshman too; they all look straight outta high school and Health 1 is an introductory GE req. too.

I must eat now. And do homework.

..sooo Friday night... let's see.

*compiles his thoughts*

*compiling...*
*compiling...*

FUCK!

*compiling...* Okay.

I think I left at about oh, I dunno, 3 or 4 in the afternoon that day after showering and getting ready. Everything being loaded in the car already made things easy and my "supplies" were still in the green so I was all set to go.

I should /add/ that I did not pay a single cent for parking as the gates are opened at around I'd guess 3 am and on, and all you do when you come in is press the big green button, grab your ticket and drive in. Funny how that works.

So, I sure as fucking /hell/ didn't spend no 22 freaking smackers on any damned /thing/ at /all./ Instead I ate cheap at school and I laster on think I snagged one of those 6 buck sandwich combos they had goin' in between the entrance and the hotel's modest-style resturant.
I mostly walked around and perused the game room on the far end of the hotel and the con floor, which was second floor, keeping an eye out for anything interesting. And as far as interesting things go, there were always quite a few. I really wish I had brought a camera, or taken more pics with my camera phone, but I think I forgot it on Friday anyways. :/

There was this... blob. A costumed kid I later found out in a pink fabric covered foam lump about 3 feet tall. It draped 3 or 4 layers of this pink material outlined lightly in black to highlight the outline of the oozey effect in the print. The costume would be stretched slightly as the kids father (I'm guessing) would come over and pick him up, moving the blob to another spot and was long enough would cover the whole kid who was probably abour 12 or 13 or something. When he crouched, it would drape down around him in a sloppy, conical drape with a big tounge hanging out the middle and a big, softball-sized eye on the end of an eyestalk that could only have been the kid's arm.

And this kid was a better blob actor than I could have ever hoped or hope to be... It would scoot slowly around, the tounge lolling up and down, the eye cautiously looking around at the end of every scoot. And it was a shy blob. You would be too if there was a 6 and a half foot tall reindeer with size 27 shoes stomping up and down the halls ways scaring the dogs. :P

Truly though, the acting genius was all in the eye. Like it was afraid someone was just going machete-lop off it's one good eye stalk out of nowhere, as if it happened before and took weeks to grow a new one. I actually saw this thing communicate with a little old lady in ine of those little sit-down scooters, her knitting draping the front of it. It was scared at first, but eventually began to trust her and began inspecting the cart silently talking with the lady.

It was a hit at the dance too on Saturday I think. Damn near scared the dogpiss outta me when I first saw it, stoned as hell. I almost tripped on it!

Freaking, hilarious.

I met this guy named Broken, in a hallway somewhere I think. Damn, where did I see him first... I can't remember. I think might have been through tiger, who was also there. I might have smoked with them on Friday night. I was a pretty neat fur, although I didn't see him after friday much which was a shame. We smoked together outside on the bridge on the interior of the hotel's courtyard that ran from the pool area to the second floor convention space. He kept offering me his jacket, and I wad flattered, but I didn't want to take this poor guys coverings as Im sure he would have been as cold as I. Thinking back on it now, he might have been coming onto me. Or maybe he's just a super cool fur, I dunno; perhaps I read too much into it.

I believe it was with him that I met Foxglove, a right-yarffy kind of fox with a penchant for audiophilia and some really big speakers. He has these thing's called B-52's that he showed me which I believe are simply large speakers. He has like a big base and amps and a sound board - all stuff he's collected over the years, that he hauled down to use at the room parties. Great sound they put out too even at a fraction of their potential power.

I met this fur originally at Conifur NorthWest up in Washington like a year and a half-ago or so. I talked with him for abit up in the game room after some fantastic euphoria induced oral suckling with my mate (what kind of a blog is this without graphic sex?) and was feeling pretty good. We started talking, rather, I should say he was beginning to tell me about ConFurence in its heyday when I had to run off after only a few minutes, but I rememebered him this time. He has this cool robe-tunic like thing with these big baggy pants and sleeves made out of soft sythenic-fur fabric that he made himself which was just awesome. I have vowed to make a garment similar in my own image, but sewing is low on my list of things to learn. :P It might be awhile on that one, but the thought of such a comfortable style out fit for a con that was warm, stylish, and homemade! Fucking awesome!

I tagged around with him most of the evening, on and off wandering and checking the game room and stopping to play a game or two of Guitar Hero II, then finding Foxglove again and chatting with him. I met up with some of the furs I rememeber from Rudy's old house and asked if he made it down this year. I saw him later that night and said hi, but there wasn't much to report and he seemed tired and on his way out. Saturday night we met up however.

Around 9 or 10, I went in search of room parties and perused the now active con floor. I should mention that there were furs all over the hotel as far as rooms go, but the second floor must have been exclusivly furries. By now there were many room parties set up and ready to go, and as I was walking down the strip with the huge shared balcony out the back sliding doors of the hotel rooms, a male and female pair were announcing to passer's by to come in, check it out, blah, blah and as I came by before they could finish their sentence, I strolled in ("See? /There's/ someone who went in" he said to her.) and beheld my first Kingon bar experience.

It consisted of a dimly lit room with those fake fire torches and a metal bar with a plastic top taking up the far corner of the room. The bed was pushed to the opposite wall and a huge, thin tapestry with a large Klingon Battlecruiser in the middle amidst a star field and blackness, was hung on the wall behind it. A large, silver foam carving had the busts of three Klingons sat on top of the TV cabinet and three huge floor to ceiling carvings in the same style covered the wall behind the bar with two Klingon warriors on either side of a targ. Very authentic for con deco, a few lights and props. The costumes were the best and I saw the 4 or 5 klingons every day of the con damned near. I ordered and a "Disruptor Blast" and some "Bloodwine" and found out why Klingons love it so much and why everclear is a fitting ingredient for something called a "Disruptor Blast." It was a shot of that shit and some Oj. Yeeccch! I wish I could remember all the names, the menu was priceless. Dollar 1/2 shots and 2 dollar drinks got me hammered for 4 bucks. 4 < 22. Mmmm.

I ended up listening to music on the party floor at room parties and on the balcony and checking out the dance, which is always fun cause it's the only furry rave really that I know of.

But let me tell you something about this balcony. It's open to all the room parties, but to really get into most parties you have to be 21 if they have alkerhol or you have know someone or you at least have to be furry enough to be on the con floor and pass through one of about 8 or 10 open rooms to the balcony, which makes this thing a great gathering place for party goers. Coupled with the trance and techno storm, it made for quite unique experiences. More on that next post.

I ended up talking in a circle with 5 or 6 furs in the cold out front while they all smoke cigs. Eventually it kind died down, and after getting my sweatshirt with broken (who walked me to my car, Hmm...)and realizing what time it was, (like 5 am) I head home. The metal on my car was almost frozen solid, but the windows we're fine and I got safely home without event, all in all, feeling pretty good about my con this year, so far.

Saturday and Sunday to come folks, stay tuned.

I don't know why I only have these urges to write like once a month, but I feel like something needs to be written after this years Further Confusion.

My draw to anthro is sporadic and splintered at best, however there are things that pull me right back into it and generate feelings and emotions that are too strong to ignore. I don't really know what to make of these emotions alot of the time, but I think I'm over analyzing abit like I always do.

And it happens every con year: I get all excited remembering how much fun last years con was and I gear up for the upcoming, sometimes months in advance. I don't really do too much to prepare, but especially this year, I got really excited months in advance - thinking about it almost everyday at work, school, several times a day. Mostly, preparing for FC involves figuring out when I get payed and what paycheck will go to the con, and then grabbing my collars, con shirts and clothes and pot and high-tailin' it down there for the 30 min drive.

But this year was different; it was the first year I spent at the con - at any con - without Mikey. He didn't really wanna come down this year. He was going to maybe skip down on Friday night or Saturday but he ended up staying home. Save money and play Burning Crusade was what he wanted to do, leaving me with a somewhat strange feeling. Usually we get a hotel room, but that idea was canceled in the week before the con. We weighed out the 250 bucks it would cost to stay in a hotel 30 min away and decided the money was best spent elsewhere, which is true as I didn't really save enough and money was tight as always. Like I said he ended up not coming anyways...

Which brings me to the con experience:

*long sighs* I made it a good year. I was happy with myself for not giving up and going home. I forced myself to find things to do and was glad I did. I feel like this year made an impact on me as big as my second FC year.

I don't know what exactly that impact is... I don't even know why I typing this right now. I just feel I have to get outside myself, ya know? I've got all these ideas and and thoughts and emotions pent up about all this stuff and it's tough when your mate didn't go and your local friends aren't furs.

And this happens every year anyways, I get all excited around con time and all nostalgic and melancholy afterwards and then, as real life sets back in and school shoots into full swing I fall out of my furry excitement back to a nominal, watchful but inactive furry existence.

... I can't do that anymore. I've decided that when this shit happens it's only because I am all to acclimated to failing to act on my inspirational impulses because I'm lazy and not for lack of true interest. I love furries and I love fur cons and art and books and everything else that makes me what I am. For something that comes once a year, I feel like I need to go all out. Spend a whole year preparing for next years cons - there's so much I wanna do:

I was inspired this year to look into glow stick poi. I've learned a little but still haven't spun anything around. More to come on that.

There was a fur I tagged along with for alot of the con and we got to talking about tails. I was thrilled when he offered to build me one and had been talking about his tail and the outfit he made himself. it got me thinking about fur suiting in ways I hadn't before. I really had never had an inclination to fursuit before this year, but If I ever have the opportunity, I think I would. I have no idea where'd I'd get such a suit, but my eyes and ears are open. More on that too.

(Hesitantly, I write about drugs other than pot in this blog. We'll see how this goes)
So I almost had the chance to do Ecstasy this year, but it never came to fruition. I still have a post I want to make about my first experience, however many years late it is. :) More to come on that. :D

Thursday night. First con night.

I woke up on Thursday and got ready for work at 9 am. Not really thinking how this was the first night of the con. I got home around 6 and started to prepare to head down, packing my collars, some leashes (just in case :D ) my sleeper bottoms, pants, Volle - my current anthro reading material which is a superb read I might add, and a few other things along with my badges. I wanted to do laundry, and managed to fuck this up like I always do requiring another rinse cycle to get the excess detergent left behind. Mikey gave me some weed for getting him and Dre some food and begged Brandon to give me some of his potz0rz. So all in all I was ready and drive down about 10:00, which I found was okay cause the con didn't even start until like 8 or 9.

This first night was good. I basically dicked around the game room, playing a few games of Guitar Hero 2 and one song on a DDR pad some furs had set up for only about and hour. Futzing and walking and exploring netted little, but there were already enough furs to fill the common areas of the hotel and the atmosphere was all there.

I paid 22 dollars with tip for a shitty Q-zar style pizza and a sex-on-the-beach with a cherry on top at the "Club Max" bar they have in hotel. I was impressed with neither, nor was I impressed at how I just ate the 22 bucks knowing it wasn't gonna be cheap. Another reason Mikey wanted to stay - he likes to eat well at cons which costs of course. I don't remember much else, but I think I went home around 2 or 3 as I had school the next day.

Friday night.

I went to school at 11:30, got home at around 1:30 and prepared to head back to San Jose.

Ugh, I have to get ready for work. Ill finish this post when I get home if I have time - I have math I'm putting off until tonight so I dunno if I'll even remember. We'll see if anything else comes back to me during work too. Maybe I can compile a form for this piece I wanna write on this year's con. Just hope todays not the day BBB drives me insane.

Q: What's the difference between a dead baby and a golden delicious apple?
A: I don't cum all over the golden delicious apple before I take a bite out of it.

Oh man. That is an efficient joke. :)

Pray not for me, for my soul is forever lost from your god and is that of the earth and the universe from which it was created.

I was putzing around in second life for the second time in months and as I was I came upon one of "those pictures." The one that stops you in your tracks and invokes a rush of emotion or thought leaving you stuck; fixated up on it. I WILL find a copy of this picture somehow, however it seems Adam Wan's website gallery is down and my resources for finding more of his stuff are thin. :/

If you are reading this and you know how to find more of Adam Wan's art, drop me a message!

This was a piece that had a simple white background centered around a simple bed. I believe there are four canines of varying species and the first is fucking another who is layed out on his side lengthwise with the bed. Both appear to be climaxing by their priceless expressions - one of the things in this art that caught and held my brain fixated. A dalmation lies perpendicular to the others towards the viewer on his tummy, tounge out and mouth open with a large grin, eyes slightly towards the cumming furs next to him. Behind the bed and slightly to the dalmation's side stands a cute, wolfish looking fur with a relaxed face and slight smile taking his shirt off mid motion with his arms crossed at his tummy. He has already removed his pants it appears and pink pokes out at the tip of his sheath, pointing up.

Every picture can be interpreted differently depending on the picture just as a book shares the same property. This is one of those pictures where the inferred leaps out at me and I seem to just know what's going on. An entire fantasy envelops my mind of so many possibilites... a buncha furs who live together and have foursomes, the front two climaxing started the session and couldn't contain themselves to wait, knowing there'd be plenty more soon... The dalmation plops happily onto the bed, read to recieve his mate, the calm, smiling wolf with that look on his face... /that look/. The almost peaceful happieness that adorns his muzzle as if he knows.. he knows how good it is because hes done it before - a good dalmation rump and a romp on the clean sheets before him with his furiends.

*shivers* I wish I could find it and post it, for some reason it just jumps out at me and I just feel the image... I get that yearning feeling you get when the ideas are so powerful in your mind... You don't want it all to be real, just this. Whatever fantasy is now culminates and overwhelms the senses with the sheer power of its impossibility... It's like yearning for it to be "real" but "real life" would never do it justice and could never contain it. Like glimpsing your view of perfection, a tiny shining fantasy that's just perfect the way it is, frozen on that paper straight from the artist's brain to yours.

Fucking awesome art to evoke so many thoughts with one image. I wish I could give Adam Wan's brain a blowjob so it would spray hot art-magic directly into my body; like a direct link or something. Creepy.

If you are somehow reading this Adam Wan, try not to be wierded out as I mean that in the best of ways. :D

Starting today!

Not much to post, however I'm trying to back off on the online gaming so hopefully I'll have something interesting to post in the next few days? Figure I might as well keep the ol' journal alive. :)

I can't sleep as the title suggests. I know few people read this journal and I update so rarely that my friends who do read it probably don't check it often. I'm grateful for their checking however. :)

It happens all to often that I start to think alot before bed. This is a symptom of summer: I go to bed so late every night and wake up so late my sleep cycle gets shifted forward and my mind shoots into full gear. Tonight my thoughts turned to Q-zar and my past.

I've realized now those have days gone by too fast. Too fast.

There was a time when I thought Q-zar would never close or shut down or become unpopular and that we would pretty much have a Q-zar always. I would think offhandedly how I would take my children to my Q-zar and maybe teach them how to play. How naive of me it always was to take it for granted like that.

I am grateful for the many happy and beautiful friends and memories I got from Q-zar and I will always regret not milking the experience for all it was worth, even though I did my best at the time. We cannot regret the past and I cannot look back on those times with regret. It hurts sometimes when think back and all the memories rush into my head. I try to think of everything at once, like I want to remember everything right there and the nostalgia hits me hard.

And then I think of how all these life events and memories I had were punctuated by long stretches of video games and all the times I could have missed by being such an avoidant person. Maybe I could have done more to help save it, or maybe if I hadn't smoked so much damned weed and played so many videogames I'd have a more complete record of it in my mind. Myabe I wouldn't worry so much about bring those days back to my mind so much that I can't sleep. Although, I'm sure staying up until 4 or 5 every night for the past 4 weeks didn't help either.

I feel lonely. Mikey is asleep, and so is Aaron who is the only person I could talk to at a time like this. Even my neglected Trillian/ICQ list is empty of those that would beable to offer soothing thoughts.

I won't take the time to rifle through old memories of Q-zar and the people that made those times so interesting. Nor will I try to remember all those times in a single night while trying to go to sleep. I suppose they should be remembered with friends who I shared them with - I have alot of them in this house - when they are brought up while we're drinking or smoking or something... Then we can all remember them good and all of us together can reconstruct the good times as if they we're here again and over the years we'll remember most of the things in detail, slowly one by one, cherishing each thing we miss and loved individually.

I dunno... I hate getting all sappy this late. :P

I just hope I can make new memories like those, just as happy and amazing and original and such a fitting thing for myself and my friends. Maybe FC and other cons can foster such magic.

I'll just always ache for my store, for Q-zar. I loved that place so much. I suppose thats got to be true since I miss and think about it so much. See if I can sleep now that I got some of that out. Night.

I got a B in calculus. A fucking B in calculus... A B in a summer calculus course.

Unprecidented.
Amazing.
Spectacular.
Stellar.
Rare.
Cosmic.

I can't believe it. If you ever take a math class, take it with Mr. Jason Morris if you have the opportunity. Awesome, awesome math teacher.

School for the summer's almost done and I think I'll do pretty well. The tomato plant also continues to thrive so I'm happy.

I've discovered EVE online is alot more fun than WoW, or at least abit more fulfilling. I haven't logged onto WoW since I got my EVE account so I think I'm done with Warcraft for awhile.

I've got this nasty 8 page Calculus final tomorrow, but I think I'll do pretty well. I like endurance math alot more than speed math. Since we have 3 hours and alot of the test is review from previous sections I'll be able to take time and think. I hate speed math. We had an extra credit integral quiz I did really well on, but it was nerve racking to sit and think on a particularly tangled problem for 5 minutes of a 25 minute test. :P

I went to a "Taking Back Sunday" concert on the SJSU campus with some friends at work which was really interesting. I've never been to a punk rock concert before. We saw four bands and every one of them put on a great show.

"The Subways" were a small 3 person group from the UK; a lead singer and guitar with his backup singer, backup guitar girlfriend and a drummer dude. "What's up all you sexy fuckers!?" was the first thing this guy yelled into the mic and from then I was endeared to their scrappy, punchy style. They were the first band and were obviously the smallest and least known but thei played their instruments as well as or better than the that came bands after and performed all the same.

"Head automatica" I guess was the least memorable since I dont remember much about them. Not that they were bad, I do remember really liking alot of their songs, but I think I was kind of out of it then they came on. :P

"Angels and Airwaves" was one of the more popular bands as alot of people at the show had "AWA" shirts on. They were really a U2ey echoing band with a sort of quick strumming style. I don't know jack about playing guitars so sorry if it's abit vauge. I like their performance and their style; they had a teriffic light show, but sometimes their stuff kinda got repetative. I was thinking they'd sound better on an album the whole time. Their lead singer got kinda political sometimes too. He spoke out against "The War" and a few other things which I found kind neat but it was more of the same antiwar stuff I hear most of the time anyways. What was funny is sometimes he'd crack a joke or something in the middle of a song and it would totally wierd out their style for a second. They were always so... wavy and dramatic and stylized.

"Taking Back Sunday" was my favorite name of the 4. :) They seemed to be a typical punk band and put on quite a show. Their lead singer likes to swing his mic around in huge arcs making it a wonder as to how he never hits anyone or how you never a terrible, loud thunking sound through the speaker towers. He was pretty damned handy with that thing. I'm not a huge fan of punk, but their stuff was pretty catchy and well played.

Not much to report otherwise. Thought I'd drop in for anyone who might read. :)

A several weeks ago, more than I month I think, I came home after a particularly hard day after summer school, frustrated at all the rude drivers I had to make my way past - rather, they had to make their way past me I should say, when I came home to a stupid ad someone had dropped for a local real estate office sitting on my doorstep. A small, folded, stiff piece of paper and a small frail looking tomato sprout not 4 inches tall composed this ad, topped off with a clever "come into the office and we'll KETCHUP!" pun that made me want to cringe when I read it. At the time, I think I had been watching more television than normal for some reason and the advertising was particularly bothering me.

"Who the fuck put this fucking shitass ad here" I thought to myself. "These fucking goddamed people and their constant advertising. I HATE advertising!" We do get alot of ads from real estate agents. It's California I guess. :P
I'm not a violent man anywhere except in my head. I don't like killing spiders for Christ's sake! I could never shoot anything alive with a gun unless it came down to either eating or not, and I even feel bad about fishing. How would you like it if someone stuck a hook in your cheek and suffocated you to death! :P Not that I'm bitter at fishing, it's just I think about those things, ya know? For some reason it's just very hard for me to kill or even harm a living thing unless I'm unbelievably angry at it.

So, the thought crosses my mind to just pickup this stupid advertising gimmick with it's horrible, crappy, shuddering pun and huck the damned plant into the road and grumble inside. I went to pick up the small plant but I stopped as I stood up with it in my and and sighed. I thought about that small, green, innocent plant, it's leaves smashed and tattered with soil scattered out in a cone around them, sprayed out of the plastic container it was planted in from the force of it's impact with the middle of the road. A pathetic and sad thought of something that could have been good instead thrown to the side like so much garbage. That thought, more an image in my mind than words in a idea just sucked the hostility from my blood. I felt... sorry? No... I felt bad for this little plant. I know it can't feel emotion or apprieciate the care it's given or feel pain or sorrow, or lonelyness, or neglect in any recognizable sense. It's a plant. It can't even more itself around, that's why it's called a "plant." But that's the thing. It's something that's independant or human morality and only gives back what you put into it. Kinda like love I suppose.

The thought haddn't occured to me that the plant wasn't intrinsically evil because of or even part of this guys advertising attempt. It was just a plant. It wants sun and water and it can do the rest. A little sun and water gets you tasty tomatos for burgers and sammiches and a pretty, green, little plant to care for. The plant is a plant. Not a real estate agent's tool for advertising.

And how dare he try to make a buck anyways. It could be those hard working people with a baby who're in that tiny office across the street until midnight sometimes for all I know.

I put my stuff down and cleared out a small corner in our grass-overgrown weed infested "dirt area" we have in our backyard across from the pool and dug a small hole after shooing away some trash. I planted the stupid plant there and watered it a bunch. I forgot to water it for abit and some of its leaves got brown but everytime I saw that plant or think about it, I'd carefully pour 3 glasses or so of water all around and on it to moisten the soil nearby and quench its thirsty roots. It gets a good amount of the summer sun despite its proximity to the awning and now that I remeber to water it every day it's doing well!

Yesterday when I watered it, it seemed to just be surviving - not doing great but not dying. Tonight when I watered it again it was strong and growing whole new leaves and stalks! I think I'm gonna transfer it to a large bucket we have left over and put it away from the patio where it can get tons of sun. For now, Ill just keep the trash and weeds from getting to it and watering it everyday.

Mikey and I had a fairly large and long fight a week or two after I planted that tomato plant. I walked around dublin at night for about 2 and a half hours afterwards thinking about things, being angry. We fought about the usual things, among them my pessimism and the stupid negative things I say when I'm pissed and frustrated. When I came home and we talked in bed I thought of something...

I'd rather not be the person who chucks the tomato plant in the road. I want to be the person who sees this ad and thinks "What a nice tomato plant! Thanks advertising dude!" and plants it in the backyard, cares for it and looks after it.

That plant is a symbol. A symbol of the way I would like to be if things didn't bother me so much. If I paid attention to the things that really should bother me and did something about them and stopped worrying about all the horrible things that are wrong with earth that I can't do anything about. Even if it dies, I still gave it a chance. :)

It seems my LJ only has use to me when I have something to bitch about or when I feel like shit. This post will be no different so if you're not in the mood to be ranted at, avert your eyes.

I really would like to continue playing WoW, but the more I play the more Blizzard's little "challenges" are starting to become more like lame ass excuses to make the game take longer so they can get more money. The higher I get, the more its seems time above everything else is the great penalty. Damage over time, healing over time, time to clear an instance, time to fly somewhere... The whole game system is based on how long it takes to accomplish a certain task and that time limit while varying some, is controlled very closely and precisely.

The simple fact is that Blizzard is not out to be your friend or provide you with a nice, pretty game, but in fact it is their purpose to make money off you. And, with a monthly charge the longer you play, the more money they make. So one could surmise that naturally the longer it takes to accomplish things in the game, the longer the player will play and the more Blizzard makes. So why do I continue to pay? Because the game is pretty fun I must admit, however all these things that are done to lengthen the game simply annoy the hell out of me. The user never gets the benefit of the doubt when it comes to the game glitching. I know this is done to protect from illegal farming of mobs and the sort, but in the end all I'm left with is a shitload of game time put into a somewhat-fun-but-in-the-end-seeming-like-work game tht takes fucking FOREVER to do anything of use in all the while I've been doing the same fucking thing all long: Killing MOBS with spells. Over and over and over again. And THATS just so I can PvP where I need to farm MORE shit. Instead of XP though, now it's reputation and items and it's still the SAME thing. Targeting MOBs and nuking them. Oh and running. And flying. Lots and lots and lots of running and flying and traveling and sitting at my comp with the game running not doing anything but holding a key down and sometimes not even that! All the while being charged for it.

Apparently theres this small boss in Dire Maul that can "sacrifice" a player in the group at will. That person it put on a table and drained of their life, all the while they cant do a thing about it. Oooh, I love not being able to defend myself in any way shape or form. Theres an idea. Stun the player so they can't do anything, then kill them! Last time I checked, killing the player without letting them do anything about it under conditions where the player should otherwise be able to do so was called cheating. Oh yea and having to fly across the map and back again to reach a flight destination because there's no direct flight to the location you're headed to is really getting fucking old as well.

Im running on a thin rope. I would simply love to play this fun, interesting game. The monotonus gameplay I can handle, the stupid 12 year old children, I can bear. 15 bucks a month, no problem. But inserting annoying ass game features disguised as "challenges" that just make the game take way too fucking long so you can make an extra buck is just lame.

I hope Spore comes out really soon.

Yea. Mikey and I got into an argument and I punched the shed a buncha times. Mikey and I are fine; my hand isn't doing the best. Hopefully I didnt do anything permanant. Suffice it to say my day off has not felt like one. *growls*

Even if you have to not go in the sun to do it, don't get burned by the sun. In fact, let this digital string of ones and zeros be a living testament to me not getting sunburned again. I have data to support my claims:

There is only one thing that bothers me about a sunburn, but it is the only thing body-wise about a sunburn that is seemingly benign. That is the itching. Not the heat, not the peeling (that's the fun part!), not the feeling hot or looking sickeningly red, nor is it even the hot I-feel-like-I've-been-sick-all-day-watching-TV-and-sleeping feeling. This is no ordinary itch mind you; it pokes with needle-like accuracy and potency into single places on your back (if you happen to be burnt there) but with out the sharp pain of a needle poke. Rather it is a sort of sharp tickle like someone was drawing their finger slowly down a sensitive spot of your ticklish back only localized in a single burning point. The intensity varies by chance or by how hard you scratched the last one...

God forbid you should EVER scratch ANYTHING... Cause if you do what itches after the next 6 seconds is equal to the square of the intensity of the last itch.

if (scratchitch)
{
NextItch = (LastItch * LastItch);
// Don't scratch! :)
StartItch();
}

The effect is cumulative you see. So it you do fail my advice and find yourself sunburned, the first thing to do is to not move much and do not under any circumstance scratch an itch. You will regret it.

As you've guessed I am badly sunburnt and the only thing stopping me from going insane or jumping of a cliff is because Im not moving and I'm not touching my back. I'm actually terrified to put anything on it at this point lest it should start itching again. Ugh, it's almost like I can feel my skin regrowing...It's most likely a good thing that sunburns itch, otherwise I wouldn't really care if I got sunburned until I got cancer. It does seem I get sunburned pretty bad about once a year although there was a gap of a few years where I wasn't burned. But Jesus! I burned the same way I did last year. I got in the pool for like 3 hours without any sunblock and swam with abandon. Fun, but cancerous. I am pasty white, have blue eyes and I have pretty sensitive skin. On top of that I'm very ticklish and... "attuned" to anything causing an irritation or tickling sensation. I can't stand it. If it gets going it's absolute agony. Hell isn't horrible because it's hot and everyone is writhing in pools of molten sulfer and brimstone, it's cause their sunburned from all the heat and doomed to an eternity of uncontrollable needle-itching that only gets worse if you scratch. Like wars only get worse as you fight them and like fire only grows the more you try to smother it out with sawdust, sunburns only itch more if you even touch them. It's like trying to plug a leak in a propane tank with a lit flare. You might solve the problem at hand for a little bit, but bigger ones are well on their way. Yea, don't do that either.

This is pretty much an update to be an update.

Mike and I decided not to go to (rather forgot about and failed to prepare for) Califur.2 for a lack of money. Usually I can use my current paycheck for hotel and food, but the con fell on a rent period and we didn't save enough. I'm disapponted; it's lame we can't make every Califur, but I can't whine too much as we let the con date sneak up on us. There's always the next Conifur and FC. Made me think about my life organizational skills. It would be nice to have everything in order the way I'd like it and as idealist as that sounds, I think it's possible with a little work. If I had managed my money and time better, I'd have made it to the con. :P

I really hate how all my posts weave back to be being lazy and wanting to experience life more and all that shit, but it seems when I run out of things to talk about it's what I gravitate towards. I come up with great LJ post ideas and topics to rant and rave about but I always forget by the time I can make my post and my motivation to write always fizzles quickly. We'll just leave it at "don't be so lazy."

It's funny how everytime a con rolls around I get all nostalgic about it and get my furryness geared up. Then, when it's all over it subsides somewhat until the next con. I really want to do more with furry, but I find myself too busy or I would rather get some gaming in than pursue a "furry" activity. I'm not sure what to think about myself really. Before, I roleplayed, talked online extensivly with other furries and otherwise was involved as I wanted to be. Now, I visit 3 cons but find myself falling away from those other pursuits.

*sigh* I have interests that I'd like to expand and I'd like to find new interests, but I always move back towards online gaming, and in the end that doesn't even make me all that happy. It's just at the end of a day or if I have the day off I'm content to come home, relax and smoke with my friends and mate and play videogames til' I'm stupid.

That's enough expressing my lack of self-assuredness and fear of change. :p

If anyone out there has any tips for expanding myself, send em in.

Don't worry, the rapture will happen well before we destroy our planet.