Today, my astrological forecast said that My Number for Today was 5. In congruence with the Teapot's recent superstitious posting about numbers of profile views, I will announce mine as well: My MySpace account has now been looked at 5000 times. It's my lucky day, no?
Strangely enough, My Tarot Card for the Day was The Lovers: "May commitment bring out your best." Deck: Chinese.
"Although it has taken on a strictly romantic revision of meaning in some modern decks, traditionally the Lovers card of Tarot reflected the challenges of choosing a partner. At a crossroads, one cannot take both paths. The images on this card in different decks have varied more than most, because we have had so many ways of looking at sex and relationships across cultures and centuries.
Classically, the energy of this card reminded us of the real challenges posed by romantic relationships, with the protagonist often shown in the act of making an either-or choice. To partake of a higher ideal often requires sacrificing the lesser option. The path of pleasure eventually leads to distraction from spiritual growth. The gratification of the personality eventually gives way to a call from spirit as the soul matures.
Modern decks tend to portray the feeling of romantic love with this card, showing Adam and Eve at the gates of Eden when everything was still perfect. This interpretation portrays humanity before the Fall, and can be thought to imply a different sort of choice -- the choice of evolution over perfection, or the choice of personal growth through relationship -- instead of a fantasy where everything falls into place perfectly and is taken care of without effort."
*To be honest, I didn't even read all of that. I just copied and pasted that blurb from some horoscope site. Note the smallerish text. At this point, the astrologers can say 'what a cop-out!' and on the other hand, the cynics can say 'thank heavens!' Ironic, don't you think?
30 November 2006
spy
I spy something...
Man. Remember these things? I used to stare at these pictures for hours, scouring the frame for that long lost golden key or miniature dinosaur or the sneaky snake perfectly aligned with a bookshelf's shadow. My mind would reel just thinking about all of the hidden items that weren't even mentioned in the clever little poem at the bottom of the page. They snuck in little lessons [refer to that depiction of Bach] and probably some political propaganda, and tricked us into learning our numbers and letters. I loved the photos with themes: at the beach, in the garden, toy box or kitchen, on the shelves at the library, in the conservatory... [with Professor Plum and the wrench, perhaps?] ... but what I loved even more was when I found the really out of place objects like a baby bunny... a tiny jack hammer... or a secret pair of nunchucks.
My family used to tease me because I would have such an amalgamation of little, teeny-tiny things that had no relation to one another (in their unimaginative minds). On any given day at age three, you could see me walking around, strutting my stuff in my Wonder Woman swimsuit or underwear, with a tiny little fist wrapped around a marble, itty-bitty Barbie shoes, or whatever-else-have-you. Later on, after kindergarten, I would run rampant through the neighborhood with my partners in crime: Ashley, the cool girl with a miniature orange tree on her porch, and my boyfriend, Clark, who had a yellow lab that attacked the eyes of my stuffed animal dolphin. One of our favorite pastimes, aside from repeatedly climbing the magical tree in my front yard, was to locate a bottle cap from whatever drink bottle we found lying around, decorate it with leaves and flower petals and tinsel, and then capture a baby gecko and put the creature in the luxurious bed we had just fashioned for her.
Now, I don't get to do that as much. Sad. However, I was sent this a while back:How cool is that?! Maybe it doesn't involve pampering a little reptile, but it utilizes those long forgotten "I Spy" skillz AND music industry smarts! And really, look at those good looking Police!
Man. Remember these things? I used to stare at these pictures for hours, scouring the frame for that long lost golden key or miniature dinosaur or the sneaky snake perfectly aligned with a bookshelf's shadow. My mind would reel just thinking about all of the hidden items that weren't even mentioned in the clever little poem at the bottom of the page. They snuck in little lessons [refer to that depiction of Bach] and probably some political propaganda, and tricked us into learning our numbers and letters. I loved the photos with themes: at the beach, in the garden, toy box or kitchen, on the shelves at the library, in the conservatory... [with Professor Plum and the wrench, perhaps?] ... but what I loved even more was when I found the really out of place objects like a baby bunny... a tiny jack hammer... or a secret pair of nunchucks.
My family used to tease me because I would have such an amalgamation of little, teeny-tiny things that had no relation to one another (in their unimaginative minds). On any given day at age three, you could see me walking around, strutting my stuff in my Wonder Woman swimsuit or underwear, with a tiny little fist wrapped around a marble, itty-bitty Barbie shoes, or whatever-else-have-you. Later on, after kindergarten, I would run rampant through the neighborhood with my partners in crime: Ashley, the cool girl with a miniature orange tree on her porch, and my boyfriend, Clark, who had a yellow lab that attacked the eyes of my stuffed animal dolphin. One of our favorite pastimes, aside from repeatedly climbing the magical tree in my front yard, was to locate a bottle cap from whatever drink bottle we found lying around, decorate it with leaves and flower petals and tinsel, and then capture a baby gecko and put the creature in the luxurious bed we had just fashioned for her.
Now, I don't get to do that as much. Sad. However, I was sent this a while back:How cool is that?! Maybe it doesn't involve pampering a little reptile, but it utilizes those long forgotten "I Spy" skillz AND music industry smarts! And really, look at those good looking Police!
29 November 2006
revelation
As it turns out, we've all been wrong this whole time.
It was once thought that the earth was flat. Throughout history, scientists have debated this. Pythagoras first postulated that the earth was spherical, but not much attention was paid to this theory. Sailors and other nautical societies were cautious as they went on their voyages, fearing they would reach the edge of the world and simply drop off of the face of the planet. That would be terrifying. In actuality, the earth IS spherical. Proof can be found all over the place, including photographs from space! Now you can sail and sail forever and never fear falling off of our planet anymore. But to accentuate the excitement of having a world this shape, further evidence shows that the earth is actually hollow! [Please refer to the diagram]. Can't find a good vacation spot this year? Go to Agharta! Want to travel to Venus? Just hop on a spacecraft leaving from the center of the earth! Have an insatiable urge to find all of your missing socks? Now you know where to look!
As I am not an expert on this topic, I can only refer you to articles by professionals in this field. Check out their explanations at the following websites: The Hollow Earth, The UnMuseum, The Almighty Wikipedia.
Forget the zero degree forecast, I hear the weather's great there too.
It was once thought that the earth was flat. Throughout history, scientists have debated this. Pythagoras first postulated that the earth was spherical, but not much attention was paid to this theory. Sailors and other nautical societies were cautious as they went on their voyages, fearing they would reach the edge of the world and simply drop off of the face of the planet. That would be terrifying. In actuality, the earth IS spherical. Proof can be found all over the place, including photographs from space! Now you can sail and sail forever and never fear falling off of our planet anymore. But to accentuate the excitement of having a world this shape, further evidence shows that the earth is actually hollow! [Please refer to the diagram]. Can't find a good vacation spot this year? Go to Agharta! Want to travel to Venus? Just hop on a spacecraft leaving from the center of the earth! Have an insatiable urge to find all of your missing socks? Now you know where to look!
As I am not an expert on this topic, I can only refer you to articles by professionals in this field. Check out their explanations at the following websites: The Hollow Earth, The UnMuseum, The Almighty Wikipedia.
Forget the zero degree forecast, I hear the weather's great there too.
28 November 2006
snow
Last night was our first snow that stuck. It is beautiful. There's something lovely about walking through a little bit of snow, hearing it crunch and sigh,leaving little tracks only to be covered by layers upon layers of snow. I like drawing hearts on car windows with my fingertips. I like looking up at the streetlight's illumination of the falling snowflakes. I like seeing how they come down sporadically, yet have a swirling continuity. I like tricking my eyes into seeing the different layers of the varying speeds and sizes of snowflakes in relation to the rest of the wintry world around me. I like the deep, golden light that is reflected on the wet roads and glistening trees. I like when massive land formations disappear into a cloud of ice. I like when these mountains get swallowed up and the world seems much simpler without them.
21 November 2006
smackdown
18 November 2006
right
Heather was just right. Absolutely right. Absolutely.
She pulled her floss and toothbrush off of her shelf. Then she said "You can't put dental floss on this."
She's absolutely right. Absolutely.
She pulled her floss and toothbrush off of her shelf. Then she said "You can't put dental floss on this."
She's absolutely right. Absolutely.
15 November 2006
queen bee
Right now, I'm listening to a 14 year-old conversing on her cell phone. My heavens.
"...Are you going out with _______? Are you? OMG!!! Hahahaha! Hahahahaha! Ha! AHA! Hahahahaa! [more fake, raspy laughter. This is a terrible acting job.] Are you kidding?! OMG! She's so ugly!!! Really? O my gosh! Eeeew! Hahahaha! Then why don't you break up with her? OMG! Yeah? Hahahahahahah! Yeah, I don't think they know anything about ________ and I. Yeah, yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Well, yeah. Kill him. Omg, Kill him! Ahh. Eww. No, what? What?!?! OMG! Hahahaha, where are you going? Where?!?! AHHHH! OMG! Ah, ah, uh, ahhh! Yeah? [excitedly] AHH! Okay, yeah? yeah? yeah? yeah? Ahhhh, okay when? Ah. AH! Okay. Yeah. [at this point she has boarded an elevator. Oh wait, she's back up here.] Yeah, you probably hang out with me more than he does. Haha, that's funny. K. [silence]"
Is this what I was just six years ago? Is this what I was supposed to be like? Was I supposed to have a different 'boyfriend' every other day and trash-talk every girl? Just a few hours ago, this girl asked me for my opinion. "Amy, do you think this girl is pretty?" [In all of the pictures she's showing me the girl's face is obscured.] "I can't see her." She advanced the photos so I can see others. "Can you see her now?" "Yeah." "So do you think she's pretty?" [She wants me to say no. I can also tell that she's seething about something regarding this girl. She uses the mouse to highlight not so flattering areas of the photografs.] "Yeah." [With an ever-so-slight choke of defeat she says:] "Oh. Okay." In your face, Queen Bee.
Is this not a bit disturbing? I look back at ages 12-15 and wonder if I somehow missed out on a part of growing up. Which part? I don't know, maybe the "he-said-she-said-you're-a-*****, and even though we are bff, you really do suck, so don't even think about sitting with us at lunch anymore. oh, and my magenta-sequined mini? i'd want that back, except that it's touched your skankiness, so you can keep it" part.
"...Are you going out with _______? Are you? OMG!!! Hahahaha! Hahahahaha! Ha! AHA! Hahahahaa! [more fake, raspy laughter. This is a terrible acting job.] Are you kidding?! OMG! She's so ugly!!! Really? O my gosh! Eeeew! Hahahaha! Then why don't you break up with her? OMG! Yeah? Hahahahahahah! Yeah, I don't think they know anything about ________ and I. Yeah, yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Well, yeah. Kill him. Omg, Kill him! Ahh. Eww. No, what? What?!?! OMG! Hahahaha, where are you going? Where?!?! AHHHH! OMG! Ah, ah, uh, ahhh! Yeah? [excitedly] AHH! Okay, yeah? yeah? yeah? yeah? Ahhhh, okay when? Ah. AH! Okay. Yeah. [at this point she has boarded an elevator. Oh wait, she's back up here.] Yeah, you probably hang out with me more than he does. Haha, that's funny. K. [silence]"
Is this what I was just six years ago? Is this what I was supposed to be like? Was I supposed to have a different 'boyfriend' every other day and trash-talk every girl? Just a few hours ago, this girl asked me for my opinion. "Amy, do you think this girl is pretty?" [In all of the pictures she's showing me the girl's face is obscured.] "I can't see her." She advanced the photos so I can see others. "Can you see her now?" "Yeah." "So do you think she's pretty?" [She wants me to say no. I can also tell that she's seething about something regarding this girl. She uses the mouse to highlight not so flattering areas of the photografs.] "Yeah." [With an ever-so-slight choke of defeat she says:] "Oh. Okay." In your face, Queen Bee.
Is this not a bit disturbing? I look back at ages 12-15 and wonder if I somehow missed out on a part of growing up. Which part? I don't know, maybe the "he-said-she-said-you're-a-*****, and even though we are bff, you really do suck, so don't even think about sitting with us at lunch anymore. oh, and my magenta-sequined mini? i'd want that back, except that it's touched your skankiness, so you can keep it" part.
14 November 2006
a-list only
I went to a Rockstar party the other night [in true Amy fashion, "the other night"was actually a week and a half ago. 04 Nov 2006, at least we're still in the same year, right?]. You were required to show up as a celebrity who deals in the music biznass, and my little Hilleryfriend went as Bjork. I helped her get ready and designed her dress: a swan made out of paper, of course. Our buddy Rachel went as Alanis Morrisette, Version Nude.0. Her brother Aaron showed up as that guy from Dashboard Confessional. I think his name features the letter C and R. Meh. I wasn't planning on going because my eye was flipping out, and thus my spectacles were whipped out to replace my contacts [And I had already been at another party, and I was hoping to return to it when my eye was restored to a healthier form]. But the ladies said that I looked like Lisa Loeb and we'd stop by that other party as well. So all of rockstars and divas and kings and queens of music poured into the livingroom. We had ladies and fellas from all genres of the industry and we all shook it like a polaroid photograf. It was fun to boogie down. Jungle boogie.
09 November 2006
prediction
"Amy: At age 69 you will be attacked by a pack of escaped lap dogs in your neighborhood and never be seen again."
A friend sent a link to a website that has been programmed to predict cause of death. I entered my info and that's the circumstance I'll find myself in when I pass away. Either that or all of the other situations I got when I entered my stats repeatedly. Read on:
Amy: At age 46 you will drown in a wading pool under mysterious circumstances. The only clue will be a small blue pacifier found around your neck. [Mmm, nope]
Amy: At age 66 a statue will fall over and crush you while giving your acceptance speech for the position of Governor. [I'm not much of a politician, sorry Gov. Schwarzenegger]
Amy: At age 54 while showing your work at a major art gallery, you will be accosted and later slain by PETA activists. [Ironic... I'm a vegetarian and an animal rights activist myself.]
Amy: At age 64 you will be blown up by the pyrotechnics rigged at one of your "Still Not Dead" concerts. [Well, I -am- a bit of a pyro.]
Amy: At age 28 you will go down in a small raft, in your friend's pool, and subsequently drown. [I have a strict policy against using small rafts in pools.]
Amy: At age 28 you will become lost during a road trip and wind up living out the movie "Wrong Turn". Sorry for ya. [Never seen it, never will.]
Amy: At age 71 a group of children will text message you continuously for three years, eventually distracting you while driving and causing a fatal wreck; your fatal wreck. [If I'm still text messaging in 51 years, it's probably my time to go anyway.]
Amy: At age 28 a meteorite will strike you as you are walking to the gas station to buy a 40oz bottle of King Cobra. [I don't drink, nor will I ever, and I deserve that meteorite if that changes.]
Amy: At age 47 you will fall into a tank at a large aquarium and be eaten by suckerfish. [Not likely, 'suckerfish' primarily are scavengers and mostly eat bacteria.]
Amy: At age 40 you will die from a lethal overdose of methamphetamines. ["Drug free's the way to be."]
Amy: At age 67 you will die fighting the Global War on Terrorism in Mexico. [Global War? Terrorism? Mexico? Right.]
So I entered the information one last time and this is the one that seems the most probable:
Amy: At age 61 you will realize that you actually died three years earlier, and have been dreaming all the events since then.
Glamorous, no?
A friend sent a link to a website that has been programmed to predict cause of death. I entered my info and that's the circumstance I'll find myself in when I pass away. Either that or all of the other situations I got when I entered my stats repeatedly. Read on:
Amy: At age 46 you will drown in a wading pool under mysterious circumstances. The only clue will be a small blue pacifier found around your neck. [Mmm, nope]
Amy: At age 66 a statue will fall over and crush you while giving your acceptance speech for the position of Governor. [I'm not much of a politician, sorry Gov. Schwarzenegger]
Amy: At age 54 while showing your work at a major art gallery, you will be accosted and later slain by PETA activists. [Ironic... I'm a vegetarian and an animal rights activist myself.]
Amy: At age 64 you will be blown up by the pyrotechnics rigged at one of your "Still Not Dead" concerts. [Well, I -am- a bit of a pyro.]
Amy: At age 28 you will go down in a small raft, in your friend's pool, and subsequently drown. [I have a strict policy against using small rafts in pools.]
Amy: At age 28 you will become lost during a road trip and wind up living out the movie "Wrong Turn". Sorry for ya. [Never seen it, never will.]
Amy: At age 71 a group of children will text message you continuously for three years, eventually distracting you while driving and causing a fatal wreck; your fatal wreck. [If I'm still text messaging in 51 years, it's probably my time to go anyway.]
Amy: At age 28 a meteorite will strike you as you are walking to the gas station to buy a 40oz bottle of King Cobra. [I don't drink, nor will I ever, and I deserve that meteorite if that changes.]
Amy: At age 47 you will fall into a tank at a large aquarium and be eaten by suckerfish. [Not likely, 'suckerfish' primarily are scavengers and mostly eat bacteria.]
Amy: At age 40 you will die from a lethal overdose of methamphetamines. ["Drug free's the way to be."]
Amy: At age 67 you will die fighting the Global War on Terrorism in Mexico. [Global War? Terrorism? Mexico? Right.]
So I entered the information one last time and this is the one that seems the most probable:
Amy: At age 61 you will realize that you actually died three years earlier, and have been dreaming all the events since then.
Glamorous, no?
giauquebox
I'm being threatened internationally to write this post. It's funny how that can happen. So here's an intro to this criminal: Caitlin S. Giauque. Her alias is "Caitie". And the S. doesn't really stand for anything. In fact, that S. doesn't really exist in her name, but I think it sounds nice. At the moment, she's in London, England having a grand old time. Luckily, she returns in about a month, and I'm sure she doesn't want me to bring this up anymore, but it excites me. She's rad. She can play the violin like nobody's biznass and can make a mean dish of curry. Mmmm.
.
.
03 November 2006
ding-dong
I have five friends getting married in one weekend. Is there something wrong with this picture? This isn't even including the marriage next week that I've been invited to be in the wedding party. Position: Bridesmaid. Dress Color: Turquoise. Mental Status: Confused. I don't even know what this task entails. I think I just have to smile a lot.
02 November 2006
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