CARS!!!!!

Okay, okay, so mom might be slightly right about me having to have three of everything. But how can I not?? Look at these little buggers:

http://www.toyota.com/matrix/index.html?s_van=GM_TN_MATRIX_INDEX
http://www.toyota.com/prius/index.html?s_van=GM_TN_PRIUS_INDEX
http://automobiles.honda.com/models/exterior_colors.asp?ModelName=Civic+Hybrid
http://automobiles.honda.com/models/exterior_colors.asp?ModelName=Civic+Si
http://automobiles.honda.com/models/exterior_colors.asp?ModelName=Insight

First we have the Toyota Matrix XR. 126hp@6000 rpm, 5-speed manual, 36.8 ft curb to curb, 36MPG, five doors, fog lights, 115V power jack in the back, a moonroof, 171.3 in length (as opposed to my truck's 208 inches!)... anywho, it's freakin' cool. I LOVES it because if you open the hatchback, you can throw the 60/40 seats down and there are two tracks going back to front that you can attach tiedowns to (like my truck's tie-down cleats). Not that I'd need such a thing in a car, but it's freakin' awesome to me because I love such gadgetry and ... YOU NEVER KNOW!! Plus the power outlet... again, no idea what I'd actually use it for, but... nice to have back there. Maybe if you were out somewhere and your cell died, no need for a special inverter... oh, colour-wise, I'd get the Silver Streak Mica or Phantom Gray Pearl. Probably the former. It just looks ... right.

Next we've got the Toyota Prius Hybrid. This puppy does 110HP, it's electric AND gas, and gets 60/51 (according to the literature, that's city/highway - sounds more suitable to city driving?)... It's a funky looking little bugger. I like it best in that Driftwood Pearl, although the Silver Pine Mica and the Magnetic Gray aren't bad. Somehow the Driftwood just seems natural for a hybrid like this one, though. Don't ask me why...

Then there's the Honda Civic Hybrid. I think it's sleekest in Alabaster Silver Metallic. Also hitting 110HP, 34.8!! curb-to-curb (I might be slightly hung up on that), 176.7 inches long (lower curb to curb yet longer than the Matrix... hmm...) and 49/51 city/highway. You can get a navigational system put in it, it's got an awesome display right on the dash for that, OMG the SPEEDOMETER!! It's right at the top of the dash so us short people can actually see it over the steering wheel!! Plus the whole display is just cool. The only thing I'm not keen on is the shifting lever... it somehow looks more obscene than most... LOL Oh, and the fact it's got a trunk. I'm not a big trunk person. You can have audio on the wheel, though, a feature very handy for when you're, well, driving!

And of course there's the related one, the Honda Civic SI. Nighthawk Black Pearl, all the way, baby! Looks nice in blue, too, but... anywho, other than being similar to the hybrid version, it's got the cool spoiler in the back. Again, though, the trunk... LOL But OMG is this baby cool in black. Still, I love these new Civics...

Finally, there's the Honda Insight Hybrid. Tiny, 66mpg (yes, 66!) and really rather sleek, the only thing I dislike about it is its lack of gadgets. BUT the display is awesome, digital but VERY reminiscent of the old 8-bit videogames with its big orange speedometer. tee hee hee So I like old games, byte me! The one thing that particularly interested me gadget-wise is the 6-cd changer that mounts in the cargo area. And of course it's a hatchback. Also, if the wheel covers in the back don't easily pop off, I'd have issues with it for two reasons - one, if I needed to change a tire, and two, if I wanted to wash the tires and up in there. Hm. I wonder if you need to be more careful with hybrids when washing underneath the carriage... On the other hand, if they DID pop off easily, I'd worry about them FALLING off easily...

Anywho, I'm sooooooooooooooooooooooooo in love with these guys... Right now I think my first choice is the Prius. But it keeps oscillating back and forth between that and the Matrix. I think either of the civics would hold my attention BIG time if it weren't for the trunks. Hmph.

Off I go...

~nv

sleeeeeeeeeeeep

I was up watching Xena last night while Aflac did some racing and right in the middle of this really exciting part of Xena I remember thinking "Drat. I think I'm going to fall asleep soon. What time is it?" It was around 10:30pm. Following that, these were my thoughts, all separated by some indeterminate amount of time.

"I should probably go to bed. Nah, I wanna watch this."
"Crap, I'm dreaming, aren't I...and I missed that part didn't I?!"
"What time is it? Oh, it's after 11 now..."
"Hey! I missed that part, too, I gotta rewind and stay awake..."
"I might as well shut this off and watch something else."
"So tired, can't move."
"Oh, I'm being lifted to my feet..."
"Hey! How'd I get on the stairs? Oh yeah, Aflac's trying to get me to-- whoo, that was close, we almost fell over..."
"if only my feet would work..."
"Oh, Snappy, cuddle cuddle" (that would be the stuffed animal Aflac got for me for Christmas)
"It's dark."
"Hm, still on my side with Snappy."
"Weird dream... I think I'm talking in my sleep..."
"It's light. What am I doing in bed?"
"Okay, too much on-the-sideness. Time? 9am. I'm flipping over on my stomach."
"Reposition legs, screw time."
"No, back on stomach. Oh, Aflac's awake."
"What the... I can't... wake... up... these DREAMS..."
"OMG!! It's like, 10:30am!!! Crap!! I gotta get outta here in two hours!!"
"Hi Aflac!"

At that point I was awake enough to wake up. Aflac told me all that transgressed that night to his knowledge. 1) He took pictures of me and Kitty sleeping. 2) He dragged me up the stairs to bed. On the way, I suddenly jerked as if I were waking up, then went limp again even though I was actually walking somewhat. 3) I "never moved" from the spot he layed me in with Snappy. Several times he worried because he thought I wasn't breathing, I was so "dead" and "silent."

So you see, I have *no* control over this phenomenon. I get tired, that's the end of me... lol

Rainbow Paper Underneath

There was this special paper I once used as a kid in school. It was of a dark, waxy color, usually black, but they also had dark red, blue, green, etc. You took a scraper thingie and scratched lines into it. The waxy top coat came off to reveal rainbow colours underneath. A kid could make some pretty cool drawings in this manner!

I remember trying to duplicate the concept with markers, white paper, and crayons. I'd take a piece of white paper, colour it in rainbow colours with markers, and then lay a heavy coat of white crayon over it. I'd clear off the excess white crayon and this made a clear protective coat on the coloured marker/paper. Then I'd take a dark colour (usually black!) and carefully colour over the white. This put a darker layer of wax on top of the white but it didn't adhere to the paper because it never touched it. Wax is easy to scrape off of wax, so I had, essentially, a rough duplicate of the special paper.

Kids, you can try it at home! Moms, it's fun, and you may want to give your kids this idea!

Anyway, while I thought about all this, I realized that the black on rainbow paper is much like we are. We as humans are covered in a dark exterior, while our rainbows are lying just beneath. All it takes is a few scratches on the surface and our light shines out. Unfortunately, the black stuff can smudge and this happens often with us, so sometimes our light gets covered up again.

Remember that all the colours of the rainbow make up white light. Despite what my art teacher tried to tell me.

~nv

Me? Stop writing? NEVER!!

I was out and about checking my email earlier and ran across a comment for this blog. In it was the request that I do not stop writing.

I was deeply touched by this, I mean, it's nice to know people actually read this stuff and get something out of it. But I still recoiled at the mere thought of never writing again. Egads. Not write? It's one of the strongest urges I've ever had, this writing thing!! It doesn't always make sense even to me, and it doesn't stay particularly consistent, but to even think of ... well, let's just say that it's unlikely my writing will ever cease so long as I've got enough fingers to type with and a brain that isn't caught in the eighties while I drool in my lap.

Heck, I'd probably type with my toes if my fingers disappeared.

Anywho, I was struck with awe upon reading those wonderful words. The better portion of my life was spent struggling with myself. I've relied upon others' work to bring me joy, despair, humour, emotion. Music, poetry, stories, television, long talks about someone's troubles - these all allowed me to reflect upon my own life, to see different perspectives, to experience lives outside of my own. For a long time it was a way to circle the perimeter of my reality. Now it's become a wonderful basket full of knowledge for me to pluck from whenever I need to figure something out.

Despite my struggles, people have continuously told me I how bright, talented, and warm I am. While I felt frightened and weak, others saw an inner light glowing steadily. I don't yet know how people "see" these things, but now I understand that the inner light is in everyone. I found mine!

At one time, writing was the only way for my soul to cry, or to be afraid, or even to be happy. So I began to wonder, "What exactly does writing do for me, even now that I'm aware of who I am?" Expression is number one on my list. I'm full of expression. It leaks out each of my pores every time I move with the slightest of breaths. I feel sometimes as if it's a life form within me, continuously expanding and pushing the limits of its bodily confinement, i.e., me. It's a restless spirit, one that cannot be repressed, hampered, or silenced. It wants out. It shouts to be heard, to catch a glimpse of the outside world even if for only a moment in order to find a new source for its many wandering thoughts. At one time it was upset and beat its wings against the bars of its cage. Now it's freeing its friends.

Computers are my life, but writing is my inner core. Even English class failed to extinguish this flame. No, I won't ever stop writing.

~nv

You might be a geek if...

Okay, I almost forgot to post this. A geekfriend was down the other day installing Linux on an old laptop. I wasn't exactly feeling 100% geekish, so I got involved in my Legos. I decided to sort them. Guess I've been organizing a lot lately...

Anywho, as I neared the end of the bucket, I saw what first looked like a clear 1x2 Lego brick. I thought, "Hm, that reminds me of an RJ-45 connector." Then I looked closer. It was an RJ-45 connector. I looked over at my friend and said...

..."Hey! You might be a geek if you find an RJ-45 connector in your Legos!!"

We laughed and went back to our prior activities.

I'm still trying to figure out how it got in there, though. I'm usually careful with my Legos. Then again, it /did/ look an awful lot like a 1x2 clear Lego brick.

Incidentally, my friend was still wearing his special "gadget pocket" sweater.

~nv

Old Albums, figuratively speaking

Eeks, I'm listening to the album that one of my ex-boyfriends had given me - it's on Raven and just came up on my playlist a bit ago. My mother was right about his style. Very rigid. Not surprising, though, considering his personality. It's funny, I think I saw him downtown one night when I was driving home, maybe a month or two ago. Since then, I've thought of him (and other exes) often. I don't know exactly why but I think I'm somehow reorganizing people's attributes in my mind. Oddly enough, the finest points of each seem to shout at me. Yet it's not because I miss any of them. It's because I see small pieces of Aflac in each of them.

Imagine dating (or nearly dating) various people and never being completely happy. You start thinking that there is no one that would ever match your dreams. It's a childhood fantasy that there is someone truly suited for everyone. Yet all along, there is someone for you out there. He doesn't know you and you don't know him. And at that point in time, neither of you are truly ready for each other. One or both of you needs to grow into the person(s) you are becoming.

Then, you realize all at once that you've been searching for yourself all along. So you take several steps back, assimilate what you've learned, and look inside to see who you actually are. You find yourself. You realize that it doesn't matter if you're alone, because you're all you're ever going to have forever. Thus you need to nurture yourself most. Besides, without a whole you, you can't help anyone else anyway.

And just as you think you have it all figured out, all of your past relationships or near-relationships come back to you in one body, with all the excess toxic substances removed. In this one person you find new experiences without physical threat; chemistry without alcoholism; intelligence without silence; proximity without prostration; sophistication without ingratiation; interest without inactivity; trust without abandonment; interest without subversion. And as if that weren't all enough, you find playfulness, charm, finesse, understanding, logic, responsibility, adoration, confidence, and - get this - LOVE - all in this one package.

Plus he's handsome to boot, which is something someone had to tell you because you were so wrapped up in his personality that you failed to notice what he looked like.

I know that everyone is different, that everyone has their good points and their issues, and that no one is better than everyone else. But I also know that some people are more suited to each other than many will ever realize. So it's not the comparisons that are so important to me, but rather, that I cannot even begin to imagine anyone more suitable than Aflac. I am truly flabbergasted that someone like him exists, when previously I only saw him in my mind's eye and attempted to "find" him in other people. Which of course failed every time because I hadn't learned to swim yet. Every time I saw something shiny in the sea, I'd dive in for a closer look and end up nearly drowning myself trying to retrieve it. Thankfully, I never lost my lifeline to the real world, and I finally built myself a boat so I could get a good look without getting my rope tangled in the seaweed. Then as I stopped peering over the edge and started looking at the sky, another boat came along. Its occupant asked if I was ready to do some REAL exploring. And with that, we docked our boats and found a trail to walk on.

It's also as if the rest of Aflac's wonderful attributes were waiting for these pieces to come together so that he could exist in my life for real. Without the pieces I stumbled across in my travels, perhaps we would never have met at all. I had a lot of growing to do myself, and who knows where he was in his personal quest before we met.

Silly way of looking at things perhaps, but it's another interpretation of the age-old "stepping stones" philosophy, where every step we take is another step on a long path into our futures. We don't get to our final destination without molding ourselves somehow along the way. One little variation and our ending could be entirely different.

~nv

Wow, it really is over.

The PCA, that is.

There is a certain air of melancholy decisiveness in my playpen right now. I knew Peter Cetera was playing in New York, but I figured it was in a big city like NY, NY. I had no desire to go there because it was too far for my liking and too big. It turns out it's in Verona. Tonight I found out exactly where Verona is. It's barely 4 hours from where I live!

I rushed into Aflac's den and told him about it. He asked if I wanted to go. To my amazement, the sound that emanated from my throat was not one of excitement. It was one of indecisiveness. I actually said, "Unghhhh.... well, he's so CLOSE... I *never* thought he'd ever perform this close."

I realized that Aflac was in the middle of his racing game so I walked away. My head drooped. My heart ached. I felt sad and didn't know why. At first I wondered if perhaps I was worried about the money I'd spend on tickets and the gas to get there and back. But then I remembered how much money I spent on plane fare to get to Chicago scarcely over two years earlier. I FOUND the money because it was so very important to me. So I know it's not the money. It's my life. Things have changed drastically in the past few years, especially this past one.

For years I listened with the highest devotion to You're The Inspiration. It's a wondrous song, crafted of the finest vocals and perfectly suited instrumentation and effects. It seemed that at every turn of my young and sad life, that song helped drag me through the roughest times. Delighted was I to find that Peter Cetera was the voice behind the song. The internet was barely budding at the time. I knew it as "PC Link" but did not subscribe because we had no money back then. How ironic that the personal computer I so cherish also bears the same initials as Peter Cetera, yet PC Link never provided me with any links to PC! Yet without being online, I gathered information on Peter with Chicago and on his own, about his family, about his music, his history, his life. Admittedly, I had a crush on him, I was even obsessed, and it carried past my teenage years.

Then I did get online and found out that I wasn't alone. I met so many fellow fans in my first "newbie" year! They were wonderful, talented, and kind people. Many were in music themselves. I met one of my best friends while scouting out more information on my favourite musician. We lived on opposite sides of the U.S. but the Internet made our friendship real. My life was changing. I had more information available to me than ever before.

And then I found out he was touring. It was a dream come true. In 2003, I boarded a plane for the first time with a ticket I bought myself. My mother did not believe I'd actually fly to Chicago to see Peter. She knew I was obsessed, but she didn't think I was adventurous enough to dare venture out on my own. I not only went, but I also met up with fellow fans whom I'd only known previously online. And I met my best friend. We both met halfway across the country to see Peter Cetera. It was an awesome show.

Shortly before I left, I remember feeling this sense of pending closure that I'd never felt before. I figured that if I met Peter and shook his hand and thanked him, it would somehow end an era for me. I didn't get to meet him that time and I was both saddened and relieved. The following year, however, I did end up meeting him in Braintree, MA. And somehow, as I shook his hand, had my picture taken with him, and thanked him several times, I felt that closure creeping in.

A 20 year old chapter in my life had all but closed. As I turned away that evening, I knew inside that I would never turn back.

Soon afterward, the urge to to move on and rediscover myself became stronger than ever. So much of me was based on other people. I needed to learn who I was. I needed to figure out what was wrong inside and learn to fix it, to deal with it, to understand. I needed to examine my past, let go of the unnecessary pieces, and learn from whatever was left. And in the midst of all this, I decided that I should challenge myself with one of my greatest fears: Driving.

Well, I got my driver's license in February after some sought-after, but unexpected, lessons. In fact, it will be one whole year to the day on February 9th, just six days from now. It was an exciting moment and continues to amaze me even though I've been driving since I got my truck on March 24th. Dante will be a year old soon! And Aflac, the most amazing person I've ever met, came into my life one afternoon as a handle on Yahoo. I went full-time at work, too. Everything just sorta... melded together. The sun came out to stay.

So why, then, did I feel so lost tonight, so sad, when I discovered that a big part of me really did NOT want to go see Peter in New York? I explained my concerns to Aflac (it's a casino, and said to be full of smoke, it's late, etc). He commented that sometimes it's best to keep one's most cherished memories rather than ruin them by watching someone go downhill. Everything was perfect when I saw Peter. He wasn't at his peak, but I was so excited to FINALLY see him that I didn't care. Somehow, I only needed to see him perform once, and thank him for the music. I did that and moved on. I won't turn back now.

And this made me realize that a very large part of myself was given up last year in favour of new experiences and real life. I'm no longer a sad, scared, pitiful little creature hiding behind her monitor. I'm a responsible, intelligent, spiritual, curious and optimistic person whose continuing mission is to seek out new life and new civilizations...

And you know, I'm finding more and more that the faster you work out your problems, the easier it is and the less damage it does. It's like I read on Progressive.com today - Peel off poop promptly. They explained that if you let bird poop sit there and bake, its acidity can eat through the paint of your vehicle. Good to know for my truck, but also good for life itself.

The Peter Cetera Age has turned into the Peel Off Offensive Poop Age. Hm. Poopage. I like it.

~nv

You might be a geek if...

You might be a geek if someone mentions your CD coasters and you defend yourself by saying "But I don't want condensation getting on my peripherals!!"

(Yep, I just defended myself to a friend a moment ago...)

~nv

What a crock!!

Aflac dragged out two little cookbooks for me this morning. I knew he had a crockpot but I'd never used one so all I knew was that you throw stuff in and cook it for hours. No idea how (does it steam, bake, what?) so when he suggested we cook something in it this weekend, I was quite excited (something new you see). It sounds like very little to really get excited over, actually, but I'm excited nonetheless. Especially when he said you can make POT ROAST in these things!!

So far my tongue is telling me to go with the Asian Pot Roast because it's got garlic and ginger in it and the description and serving suggestions sound absolutely wonderful... and the onions are cut in rings so Aflac could easily pull them out. (He's not an onion person. Well, unless it's Onion Radio PodCast of course.)

The only problem is that the recipe will take 9 to 10 hours. HOURS!! As in, you know, 60 minutes times 9 or 10!! That could mean 600 MINUTES!! OMG!! That's... egads, that's 36000 SECONDS!!!!! Plus whatever it takes to serve the meat and wait for it to cool enough to eat... MAN! We're gonna have to start this the night before so we can have it for breakfast... my poor little ( little?! ) stomach won't wait that long... it was brought up in the MicroAge where you throw some Cream-Of-Wheat in a pot of boiling water, stir for a minute and vóìlá! FOOD!! (or something resembling something)

So I've gotta keep looking through this book in case something else grabs my tummy's attention, but in the meantime, KEEP ON COOKIN'!! (and truckin' of course)

~nv