kajarainbow: (Default)
Sometimes Zippy the Pinhead does strange things to my memetic headspace. I've mentioned it once before on this journal, but those most recent strips left me particularly mulling some very altered viewpoints. With strips featuring themes like Conflicting Forces of the Universe, More Than Kitsch Art, and Happiness in Sadness, it's the most unique currently running newspaper strip out there I know of (though if any of you know of another like it, I'd love to know).

Also... My birthday's coming up soon. I only mention this because I recently got a happy birthday wish on here. Now, the thing is, more and more I've been tending to treat my birthday as more of a quiet personal thing. If any of you would like me to observe your birthdays, speak up and I'll make an effort. :) But, for myself, I don't really care if other people do observe my birthday or not. If my birthday passed with no one remarking upon it, I wouldn't mind that. Honestly, I've gotten tired of birthdays, and of gift-giving holidays in general--having to think of things I want in order to tell others, and getting presents I don't have much use for.

I find this birthday remarkable only because it's the first deadline for starting transition (I've set a few before) that I've actually met.
kajarainbow: (old wolfie icon by unknown)
I still have my old problems. Attention issues still plague me, and I still end up randomly concentrating passionately on things that bring me some pleasure but don't necessarily do much in the way of long-term improvements. Not only that, but I often end up neglecting other people. It doesn't help that I have trouble just with my own needs, let alone others.

In this house, I'm still socially isolated. The possibility of increased interaction hasn't worked in practice, largely because of the language barriers and the difficulties of crossing that. I expected slow progress on that front, but I didn't expect apparently zero progress. But, then, my ex's the only one I've known to learn sign language that rapidly, advancing to halting frequency within the space of a single summer or not much more, I think? Maybe more, but the point is that she was the exception to the rule. [livejournal.com profile] goji had willingness, but it turned out harder work than expected.

I'm not sure how I feel about all this. The estrogen does slightly odd things to my emotions, I think, though I find it pleasant that for example I deal far better with anger for example. Or so it seems. Not that I don't still feel those things, but they seem easier to control. I seem more conscious of an overall detachment, but looking back, I can't think of when I haven't exhibited that detachment, I only seem more aware of feeling it.

How much of this is the estrogen, and how much of it is just the other changes in my life, moving to another state and such? How much of it is just regular life drift? Not using sign language at all (as opposed to back home when I mostly just used writing due to sitting in front of the computer screen all day but at least got in some signing with my immediate family)?

Finally, I've been looking at deaf groups in the area. Only one regular group I found through an online lookup, and they're some kinda club with membership fees and regular get-togethers as well as official meetings with well-defined (likely decades old like at least some of the rules, or the club itself) orders of procedure. I abandoned Deaf culture because it didn't offer me much besides a chance to stand around quietly and be out of the loop and occasionally make small chitchat. I don't know what seeking out this group would bring me, or if it would give anything bother trying for.

And, now really actually finally: in my experiences, what has gone wrong hasn't been the things I made actual plans for going haywire, mostly, but more the results of things I hadn't considered, or expected changes failing to happen because it takes more than just that, after all. So, I just try and go on, and that's life for me. Keep trying even with a bad historical record, heh.
kajarainbow: (Default)
I just asked my sister how much it would cost me in bribes to get her to make a regular one-hour drive, explaining that I needed driving to a therapist specializing in my issues, and she said it would only take gas money. Yay! My sister rules. Now time to find this New London therapist's real phone number (the one I tried apparently was a fax line), call him, and set up an appointment.

...

Aug. 4th, 2004 08:11 am
kajarainbow: (Default)
(07:48:56) wolfienamedsarah: Ah, fuck.
(07:49:05) egypturnash: er?
(07:49:52) wolfienamedsarah: Chalk upa second instance of the happiest I can remember feeling being in a dream.
(07:50:15) egypturnash: bleah.
(08:02:10) wolfienamedsarah: ...I think I dreamed I died and went to a Paradise, but the death was in a more symbolic manner. Had to do some adventure-game silliness turning two clocks together to raise the floor up to this dangling stairway thing, with a brass railing. Think I was in a church, with some other people. And, I and a bunch of kid went up the stair singing with joy, as we were supposed to, and then I put an alm into the hands of some smiling flair statue... The door had a feeling of meaning "A Comfy Place." and was engraved with some familial image of people in outfits just like out of this book of Norse myths I read as a kid (I think the father figure might've been a weird mix of Thor/Odin/others)... And, I entered, and I was in a Really nice place. It looked plain, like some functional room out of school with the tiling and all, but it was still Very Nice. And, there was a little booth where I could call in, intended for transsexuals, and just order up a new body. And, stuff... And then Lum's Stormtroopers (a bunch of high school nerd kids obsessed with some alien princess who is obsessed with a sleazebag hornball) went, "We didn't know you were this unhappy"... and all. And, I recall thinking that if I knew this was waiting for me after life, I would just skip right on past all that unpleasantness and go striaght to *this*...
(08:02:56) egypturnash: ...wow.
(08:03:09) egypturnash: just... wow.
(08:03:11) wolfienamedsarah: Bunch of Chrisitan imagery, but not quite Christian, you know?
(08:03:31) egypturnash: Christian the way Japanese RPGs use it.
(08:03:37) wolfienamedsarah: ^.^
(08:07:39) egypturnash: You should cut and paste that somewhere more permanant.

War Comic

Apr. 28th, 2003 07:57 am
kajarainbow: (Default)
I had a dream about a comic about war.

It was set in, I think, Vietnam. References to being drafted, Vietnamese looking people being fried with flamethrowers. Anyway, this was a very stupid war comic for one simple reason: there were all those people dying and being on fire and such, and this war comic had toons in it. I mean, it had freaking cameos (word for someone from outside the comic featured in it for a brief moment, often just one panel) of cartoon characters. Looney Tunes, superheroes, that kind of thing.

I think I know what inspired this dream. Catch-22. I recently began reading that book. I don’t like it. It feels like Gilligan’s Island. The characters are too, well, absurd. Every single freaking character has an extreme quirk that is all he does. Plus, the descriptions of the unit makes it feel more like a gentleman’s club than an unit at war. The only part that really feels like it’s talking about war, so far, is where it talks about how the main character never bothers with accuracy in his bombing--evasive action is his primary focus. He doesn’t care about hitting the target, he just wants to live. So, he pilots like a hyper maniac. The others love flying with him as a leader bomber. They hate flying with the "best" bombardier, who never misses his target by the simple technique of never, ever taking evasive action. He just flies in a straight line toward the target, virtually painting a bull’s eye on the bellies of his plane and the planes he’s leading. Anyway, the book’s a little funny at times, but mostly it just tries really hard to be funny.

Frankly, I liked Kurt Vonnegurt’s Slaughterhouse Five, which I read a week ago, much better. It’s still warped in his usual manner, it still has some strange characters, but they feel more believable. And it talks about how no one believed Dresden would be bombed because it was mainly a civilian target. Not much military value. Yet, it was bombed. So totally demolished, in fact, that the author describes it as looking like the surface of the moon—equally hostile. And he was there. As a prisoner of war. In the basement of a slaughterhouse. With "5 painted on it.

He said 135,000 people died in Dresden. The atom bomb dropped on Hiroshima killed 71,379. Hmm. Though it did irradiate that city.

It’s a wonderful thing that we don’t do carpet-bombing anymore.

Just to give you an idea of Kurt Vonnegurt’s writing:

"Nobody talked much as the expedition crossed the moon. There was nothing appropriate to say. One thing was clear: Absolutely everybody in the city was supposed to be dead, regardless of what they were, and that anybody that moved in it represented a flw in the design. There were to be no moon men at all.

Amercian fighter planes came in under the smoke to see if anything was moving. They saw Billy and the rest moving down theere. The planes sprayed them with machine-gun bullets, but the bullets missed. Then they saw some other people moving down by the riverside, and they shot at them. They hit some of them. So it goes.
The idea was to hasten the end of the war."

I love Kurt Vonnegurt. He can write about this stuff in an ironic tone and still make it sound horrible.

Anyway, there was this soldier in the dream. He didn’t like the war. I suspect very few soldiers liked the war. Anyway he was certain that he should be a she. This was part of the Stupid War Comic, and the only good part, it seemed.

Then it cut to a weird not-comicy bit with the soldier as a baby. The baby soldier was a baby rabbit. He/she went down to the river, saw his face, and then went back to her parents and told them that her dead brother’s face had gotten stuck on her. They got angry, telling her that he never had a brother, in fact he was an only child. She then went out of sight of her parent and started clawing at her face.

Yes, I realize that previous paragraph had confusing pronoun useage.

I sometimes get similar urges. Well, not to claw at my face. But let’s just say that I get nervous about using a non-electronic razor. I just use an electronic one anyway.

I also get urges to cut myself up in various places with a knife. Including my throat. I seem to be good at repressing the really harmful urges, though.

Anyway, did I mention that I love Kurt Vonnegurt?

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