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Celebrity death match...

I guess it's time for the random public post... "public" being like, you, you and maybe you. I just didn't feel like posting this on Facebook. So like, whoa, I keep dreaming about gruesome celebrity deaths that leave me feeling seriously disturbed. I'm usually pretty good at determining the sources of my dreams, but this is confusing. It started with a dream that Beyonce was shot on stage by JayZ... is that how you spell his name? I don't even know. I don't keep up with these people. So yeah, Beyonce was singing and JayZ shot her in the stomach, and she fell down, but kept singing just to defy him and show strength and determination to the crowd... until her intestines fell out. Then she just started screaming. So... that was disturbing. THEN, I had a dream that Michael Jackson's death actually had something to do with his detachable nose. Ew.

And so then, last night, I had a dream that one of those Disney star kids died. I don't remember which one. They all look the same to me. But this one was a little quirky. He died while touring Europe because he stepped on a land mine. For some reason he already had specifications of what he wanted his funeral to be like, and this kid REALLY liked zombies. He wanted his funeral to be like a haunted house, with his grave at the end of it. For some reason I went to his funeral. I think because my sister was such a huge fan or whatever. It was so. creepy. For some reason they made you go through the haunted house alone, because it would be much scarier that way. There was all the usual stuff, but then there was a hologram of the kid himself, because he wanted you to think he was a ghost. But the worst part was when you got to the actual grave. It was surrounded in people dressed up as zombies, tossing around pig intestines and cow hearts and pretending to eat this guy, basically. 

I ended up having to actually argue with my sister about why I found this display distasteful. "Seriously, Jenna. There's something very not cool about seeing internal organs flying up in the air over this kid's grave. I mean... he was blown apart by a land mine!"

Maybe I dreamed about celebrity death last night because Whitney Houston died? But this dream is very far from a logical response. I'm thinking about just avoiding the news for a while as an experiment. It might be worth it. 

lately

Lately, I have almost been too happy to worry about the future. I hope for once, rather. 

My hair is "blonded" again, but it looks weird to me. I honestly can't tell what color it is, and find myself starting at it confusedly for long moments, knowing I'll immediately forget that strange shade as soon as I look away. My sister says it looks like the "old me," but I think I disagree. It's a blonde that sort of has the look of being brought back from the dead. Not quite right. Jeff just came in, and is staring at it somewhat confusedly as well. But not in a bad way, so that's good I guess. 

Today has felt to me like the sort of day that will either fill itself with sleep or clarifying daydreams until the evening wakes it up. I've had a little of both, so far. I've been reading a lot, and trying hard to figure out if there are any GOP candidates I should begin to fear this early on, but so far it's been like a reassuring side show. I can't imagine any of these people making it to office, and I'm surprised really, that they've made it as far as they have. I keep muttering to myself though, that if any of them were to win, I should run immediately to Canada. 

I'm also afraid though, that as much as I always give myself that out, my personality down to my genes dictates that I stay in my mountains even if they start to burn around me amid cries of "You are uncool and uncultured for staying in the same place for so long!" Whatever it is, I think it's related to the same loyalty that keeps people in my life, sometimes long after they deserve it. 

If you're lost you can look and you will find me... time after time.

I'm glad at least, that my idea of happiness is not an idea, like it is to some people, but what I believe it should be, which is a feeling. And if I don't feel happy, I figure out what might make that happen, and seek it out. Sans idea or ideal. 

Anyway, I thought I'd make an entry, simply because it's been awhile. Maybe I'll touch back sooner than later. Or maybe not. 

blech.

Don't let their appealing shape fool you like it fooled me. Cold viruses are evil death fuzzies.

To make matters worse, they're saying I deserve for my body to be taken over because of what "I" did to the Native Americans.  How can you say I deserve to suffer the consequences of something that happened when I wasn't even....

Actually maybe I just imagined that last part.

Man, illness is so boring! I feel like I've been wallowing in tissues for days.  I think I have, actually, for the most part.  I'm running out of entertainment. I think I'm going to read my microbiology textbook for a while. I want to know what they're doing in there, and why it's taking so long. 

Our basement flooded.

My life is being boxed up in a series of plastic boxes that aren't my favorite color.  This is a good metaphor for how I feel about professional dress.

I have to work today.  Maybe I should invest in some Lunesta or something. 

The facades of adulthood. They can take my life, but they can never take my... immaturity?

Yeah, the username.

 I'll explain it: I was lying awake thinking of a medication or quack remedy for the "death instinct," and I named it Thanatol.  I thought this would be a longer explanation, but I'm glad it's succinct. 

Speaking of death, I've been meaning to chisel my Mao cat a tombstone for about four months now, but I think my grandfather should get one before my cat because he's been gone a year now. The first time I visited him, I felt like a nice walk and was confident I'd sort of remember where he was and find him, eventually.

After about two hours of cemetery hiking in many aimless directions, to the apparent amusement and curiosity of some random guy sitting on top of a mausoleum, I gave up. I didn't realize that sometimes it takes months, apparently, for tombstones to be put in place.

A while later I went back and did the exact same thing again, but this time there wasn't anyone staring at me, fortunately.

So the next time, a few months later, I was determined. It was my grandad's birthday, I had a flower in my hand that I had gone to like three stores to find, and I did not feel like hiking. So I went to the funeral home and made them give me a map of where he was. When I got there, I still couldn't find him, and this only led to a couple of minutes of me getting this weird feeling that he didn't "want" to be found, before I finally realized that I was looking at bare ground where he was, but it was completely unmarked. So I looked confused and indignant for a minute, thought about how they buried him only in his hospital nightgown, felt more indignant, dropped the flower on the ground and left.

A few weeks ago, checked again out of curiosity, still no nothing. Perhaps I should confront my family about this weirdness?

My second first livejournal entry

 I have an old livejournal, but you don't get the link. Unless you already have the link. If you do, then shhhhhh! 

I think it would be funny if I posted more here than in the old one, because that would be the reverse of what seems to have usually happened with livejournal. I'm back mostly because as much as I love facebook, it feels so... exposed. Whereas livejournal is like that empty bedroom you discover in the back of a house party, and wind up poking around in there, sharing secrets, and feeling sly and sneaky. 

Speaking of sly and sneaky, I just completed a box-kite with my most awesome boyfriend, Jeffrey. I decided to intentionally make it look like a UFO, in hopes that some misguided person or another would take photos of it and be left with a belief that would send them even further into their world of silly, wrong, non-reality. Maybe their friends too, if they showed them these utterly convincing photos of extraterrestrial life.  It definitely looks like something that could bait the imagination of one of those poor abduction story saps. It's silver, because everyone knows aliens make their spaceships out of something similar to chrome-plated aluminum, and that they don't paint them. Not painting them gives them a futuristic look, somehow.  It also has a funny shape, because even though these lifeforms know enough about our atmosphere and our civilization to have been studying and abducting us for years via their hovery space crafts, they still haven't figured out how to blend in with our aviary technology. Quite to the contrary, they tend to look really bizarre and stick out like a sore thumb, as though they're taunting us with our inability to capture them, or really prove their existence. 

My box-kite definitely appeals to these themes.  

Fooling a Believer wasn't my original intent. I don't go around burning images of religious figures into foodstuffs and then dropping them off at potlucks or anything. My original intent was to simply make a box-kite, and see if it would fly.  I felt weird though, asking the walmart fabric lady which of her fabrics would fly the best, so I picked the one that looked like it would, and one of my top choices happened to be silver. I realized that would make my kite look like a stereotypical UFO, and saw it as an extra perk. 

Now I just need wind. 

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