RAAAAAAAAAGEEEEEE

Just saw the new House episode.

And they did accurately describe the Cochlear Implant controversy, but not the Deaf Culture well enough. The patient wasn't "willingly opting to be handicapped," since there's nothing wrong with him to begin with.

You don't just take a Deaf person and thrust them into the hearing world, especially when they don't want to enter the hearing world.

You also don't force him to get it repaired, when he rips it out of his scull. (Cochlear Implant = IMPLANT INTO THE BRAIN)

Anyway, I thought the ending was kind of....fucking stupid. "I'm your mother, and I decide what's best for you."

The Cochlear Implant is really the most effective when you get it while the patient is a baby. Before they begin learning how to speak, so they can learn more naturally. When you get it later, even at nine or ten years, you've already missed that learning curve. Your speech will always be stunted.

So when you're sixteen or seventeen, sure, the Implant will let you hear, but you'll still need ASL and a holy fuck load of speech therapy, and your speech will most likely not be what you want it to be, even with years of therapy.

So for the mother to just say, in the end, "I'm your mother, and I say you're getting the Implant," (Or did I just hear her wrong?) is fucking ridiculous.

Also, I don't think they did a very good job actually showing the ASL. They had the hands half out of the frame most of the time. And I know the purpose wasn't to film the ASL, but I think they should have made a greater effort to catch that culture.

And they sort of over-dramatized what they were saying. He signed, "say" with his eyebrows furrowed (to signify a question). They translated, "What was that you said?"

And then he signed "again", and they translated, "Please, say my name again."

But I guess they sort of needed to dramatize it, though. It is a dramatic show.

And I'm sort of sad that I managed to miss the first twenty minutes. I'll need to catch it later.

Yeah, I'm a little hurt.

And it's not really a big deal or anything, it just hurts a little bit. I'm not letting myself get too upset about it.

It's like this fucking nasty bruise I have on my leg. It looks terrible, but it doesn't hurt unless I touch it.

Maybe if I just let it heal, it'll go away?

Although, I'm sort of freaked about this bruise. It actually...doesn't look like any bruise I've ever had. It's red and looks like blood beneath the skin, and it's green like a regular bruise at the edges.

Anyway, that's not the point. I guess what I mean is that...just the vibe is all cold and just...."Please go away."

I'm the fucking shiny new toy, I guess. I'm cute and you really want it when you see it at first.

And you fawn over it for a little while, before it loses its magic and just gets old. It's not cute anymore. Now it's just sort of obnoxious.

I'm sorry. I guess maybe if I wasn't really fucked up in the head I could be more....unobnoxious. I guess it would help if I could actually open up like I think you wanted....but I just....can't. You don't know how hard it is for me to open up like that, now. And if you wanted me to open up, maybe you should have tried harder? You can't expect me to open like a book because picked me up off the shelf and blew the dust off of my cover. Or maybe you didn't want me to open up and I'm fucking delusional? That might be it.

And yeah, Guitars are inanimate objects. I can love my guitar. Well, not like that or anything. But I am emotionally attached to my guitar.

And I was really emotionally attached to you, too, actually. You ass hole. It's not fair that you could make my heart skip a beat and then decide you don't want it to again.

Not that I mind. It's just sort of weird for me to get attached to anyone like that.

And I can understand if you just want to back out. Not that you've said anything yet. I'm still waiting. If you want to break it off, do it. I'd do it for you, but....what if....?

[And, unrelated to all previously mentioned--it's never going to happen.]

So...yeah. It does sting a little because I was really emotionally attached to you. But you're making it kind of easy to let go. I feel like I've been pushed away. And it's alright. Sure, it's still stinging and I'm a little hurt, but I'll get better.

And yeah, flirting is fun as hell, but there's nothing behind that. I guess we're just lacking chemistry.

---

Also, how old do you need to be to legally buy cigarettes again? I could really use some smoke in my lungs right about now. I've never smoked before, but I guess I've just grown up around smokers. My mother. My grandmother. My sisters.

I can smell someone's smoke drifting this way and it's really...comfortable right now.

And maybe I can chain smoke myself into an early death? Save myself the senile dementia? Probably a lot more fun than killing yourself.

Or enlisting in the army and being really, really careless.

Assphenie Mayonaise (Stephenie Meyer)

'Cause, you know, I like to laugh at fucking everything because when things get serious, they stop being fun.

Anyway, those Bible-thumpers to me are like....really hardcore Twilight Fangirls. The ones that practice "Cullenism" and literally light the white candle every Monday and do the prayer in pig Latin with their right hand held over the "holy" piece of dog shit that they refer to as literary genius.

Only, they were so hardcore about that book, they felt the need to force it on their children. And their children forced it on their children, and so on, and so forth. And they put the fear of God into them in a very John Edward's fashion ("God's going to roast you on a spit over the flames of hell because you're a sinner and if you touch yourself you're going to go blind and become retarded, and no one will love you--Not even GOD! Especially not God, because you're a sinner--and then you'll go to hell where the Devil's going to sodomize you and then not even your hell-mates will want to associate with you!") and told them that if they didn't believe in God, bad things would happen.

And then when you think about it statistically, if your God is telling you that the non-believers are going to hell, and if the other versions of the same God are telling their people that you're going to hell, then aren't we all going to hell?

I don't believe in God or the Devil or any of that, but I do enjoy watching the psychology in action of those delusional bible-thumpers.

Besides. Hell is empty. All the devils are here! (Shakespeare)

Also,

Old Satan left Hell in a rush
to see his wife give one last push.
"Oh God!" She exclaimed.
"I can't take the pain!"
And that's how we got Dubya Bush.

-Anon

So anyway, what I'm wondering (losing sleep over) about is...what if those psycho fangirls do the same thing with Twilight? I mean, they all seem to think that Assphenie Mayonnaise is the best thing since Godiva, and the craze seems to be spreading like more than just a virus. It's like Stockholm Syndrome! They don't even know their logic has been kidnapped! Assphenie Mayonnaise is brainwashing the minds of girls all over the world!

I'll admit, I was a Twilight fan, from the beginning in 2005, and I was in fucking Middle School. It was easy to read and I liked the thought that I could be a huge loser and some super hero angsty bad-boy could come and become addicted to me, and I wouldn't have to worry about anything because he'd love every part of me--

It's the Price Charming Phoenomenom.

Someone should sue Disney for making every girl think she has a prince charming.

And someone should shoot Assphenie in the face for enforcing it, and brainwashing every girl that's ever picked up that brick of shit to believe that it's supposed to be romantic to have your own stalker.

Alright, if a blood thirsty vampire watches you in your sleep, you should be afraid of more things than morning breath.

Also! There's a fine, fine line between [love and a waste of time] sexism and chivalry, and assphenie has danced all over it, and then some.

So I was a fan in the beginning, and I gladly accepted the distraction from my Failure of a life, and by the time things started getting bad (When I got to high school and saw copies of it everywhere) I ignored it. When the books started getting bad, I turned the other way. When I tried reading Twilight and couldn't make it through without criticizing the style, I just thought I'd read the magic out of it.

And then when Breaking Dawn made me laugh so hard I thought it was a Joke, I woke up.

What the hell?

I think the reason it's taking over so easily is because it's not necessarily well written, it's because it's written on a level that everyone can understand.

I saw some elementary girls reading copies of it a few weeks ago. Thought I was going to pull my hair out in frustration.

The idea of Twilight was interesting at first. Vampires that defy standards. The gentle giant that doesn't want to be evil, yadiyadiyada.

But I'm a real vampire fanatic. I love the blood and the murder, and the evil that comes with it. Bring on the coffins and garlic.

Assphenie ruined the word "Twilight" for me. Now I can hardly make it through a Cummings poem without cringing every time I come across the word.

And I suspect Assphenie writes fanfiction of her own books. I think she gets off on knowing that she wrote something stupid enough that all of America (What does that tell you?) could love it.

And it doesn't take a lot of brain-power to realize that Twilight is just her sick necrophiliac fantasy of meeting a guy that would become addicted to her and would never look the other way for even a second and would die at the thought of having to leave her.

MMmm. How long have I been ranting for? I'm really tired now. Why was I ranting again? I started by watching this video, where this preacher started quoting something, and it just reminded me of Twilight fangirls that quote Twilight, and give a page number, chapter, and some context for it.

And then I started freaking out about what if things got like that for Twilight. And we had Twatheists, and Twudiests, and Twatholics, [but they'd all be friends--alright.]--

Urgh. I just used Regina Spektor in reference to assphenie mayonnaise. Someone should slap me.

But RegiSpek is getting really famous now, too. Right now I'm still a delirious fangirl who sings all of her songs (Even the ones that don't have albums) but now she's really popular everywhere, and if I mention her to stupid cunt she'll gush over "Fidelity" and how much she loves it, but couldn't name a single other song of hers. Not even the easy ones like "Us". And if you start talking about Songs--fucking forget about it. They wouldn't like the Pavlov's Daughter version of RegiSpek.

I'm starting to fear that it's like Twilight all over again. Come on, America! Let's not ruin something great, this time! Twilight wasn't really great to begin with, but it might have been acceptable if every ten year old didn't believe there was an Edward Cullen waiting for them to lay them over a bed of rose pedals and coo their virginity out with the promise of eternal love.

Because I'm not sure why this isn't common knowledge, but Homo Sapien Sapien just isn't meant to mate for life. Maybe psychologists haven't mentioned it because of all the religious controversy it might cause (Just like no one wanted to be the first to mention that homosexuality and bisexuality is actually found pretty frequently in nature, so it can't be "unnatural": "Homosexual Activity Among Animals Stirs Debate" from NationalGeographic.com) and freak everyone out. But it's the truth. It's just the way it is. Crows can handle mating for life. But those are crows. If we were meant to be like crows, we would be crows.

So there should be a rule for indie music. Because indie music is only indie music if it stays fucking unknown! If there's good indie music, there should be a rule that only people who can appreciate the style can listen to it. Because otherwise you get people that only like one song because they heard it that one time on the radio and thought it was "sooooo cute and totally reminds me of what I'm goin through right now. It's, like, um, that stuff that my boyfriend does, and it's" exactly what they want to hear. Knowing the most famous song of an indie artist does not make you indie rock.

And now when I meet people like that, I like to sing songs that aren't even on albums yet, just to put things into perspective for them.

I....

I should really stop blogging when I'm on my period. When I'm on my period I really just want to watch two people beat the snot out of each other or something like that. Or beat the snot out of them myself. I want to watch it rain like the apocalypse. I want to...

Eh. Well, right now I'm so insanely frustrated that I just want to rip my hair out.

I feel a little bit like a fucking idiot. I wasted my life on this stupid thing...years of my life, even. And now....it's all gone, for no reason at all, practically.

And I feel fucking stupid for being upset about it.

I always feel stupid for being upset.

And I mean, it couldn't have happened next week? When I'm not bleeding from the deep south?

I should....do something. Make something. Paint something.

Before I hurt myself doing something stupid.

Do you know what it feels like to have a firecracker explode in your hand?

Well, at first it doesn't hurt. It's the shock, really, that just scares the crap out of you. Especially when you're six. And then your hand is numb for four hours. And when you can finally feel your hand, it's so strange and painful...

So if you're trying to throw firecrackers into a tree, make sure you get the fucking firecrackers out of your hand, first.

!%$#^%$&

Please don't enter my house and literally whistle to get my attention. I am not a dog.

If you feel the need to treat me like a dog, I will respond accordingly and bite you.

That's just one of those things I consider to be a huge insult, whistling at someone. Worse than telling someone to fuck off, probably because I've desensitized that. I dunno. I feel like it's sort of...demoralizing.

Which is why I used to whistle at Alex and say, "Here Boy! Come 'ere!" as a joke when we were fighting. It doesn't really bug him that I've ever noticed. Really, the only way to get back at Alex for the tortures he inflicts upon me is just poking him in the back. He's the same way I used to be. If you poke him in the back he'll fall over and cry. And I don't feel bad doing it, because they used to do it to me, and I know how much that shit hurts. Which is why I don't do it unless I'm severely pissed. That, and the more you use it, the less it hurts.

Admittedly, it still hurts like a mother when people touch my back. I don't like it at all. Just...don't touch my shoulders, don't touch my back, don't even stand behind me.

Anyway, if Randy whistles at my mother, or me again to get our attention, I swear I'm going to fucking slap him.

Translation

In my mother's language, trust me, they make a lot more sense.

"Fish and kids don’t talk."

"Dreams of a cut off head."

"Running out like a pig on a slippery turn."

"Came out of a cat’s gut."

"If grandma talked like grandpa, she would be grandpa."

Most of them you could probably figure out what they mean anyway. I might end up adding to this list eventually.

Musician

I'll be honest.

I didn't know what I was doing, when I picked up the guitar.

I didn't know what it was.

I didn't know that was more than wood and strings.

Timidly,

I plucked,
And pulled
the strings downward,
listening with awe,
as they vibrated,
and resonated--

I heard the voices that were trapped in her still strings.

Help me,
         she said.

Give me your fingers,
your lips,
your undulating tongue,
        she said.

I had no idea what I was doing.

Nom

Haven't had a banana split since I was seven. I remember...there was this drive-through sort of ice cream stand my Dad used to take me to.

Of course, I liked the thought of ice cream more than I actually liked it. I think I figured I was supposed to like ice cream like every other kid, so I tried really hard to make it look like I did. My dad would get mad when I got something and not be able to finish half of it.

So I stopped eating ice cream.

Although, sometimes I do kind of like vanilla ice cream in small amounts.

And right now I would fucking murder someone for a banana and a scoop of ice cream with a *tiny* bit of chocolate on it. (The darker the better.)

But I guess that's another matter entirely. Does anyone in the house even like ice cream? I don't think anyone bothers buying it. It'd probably expire or whatever ice cream does (*imagines frostbitten ice cream*) before anyone wanted it enough to even open the damn tub.

It's right up there with Milk. There's only one person in the house who does like milk, and (not surprisingly) he's the Which Of The Following Does Not Belong. He's the What's Wrong With This Picture. He's the puzzle piece that doesn't fit nbo matter where you put it.

He's the reason we bother buying milk in the first place. Sometimes it expires before he even gets the top off of it.

Finally

I finally have lyrics for the song I've been working on for forever. I'm tempted to post them, but they're sort of cheesy. But then again, all lyrics are cheesy without music. I'll just record the song later.

And I feel kind of bad because...well, the one song I've written that I really love, and I wasted it on my father. It's not really bashing him or anything. It's more like an, "I hope someday you'll know how it feels to have someone push you away and to be afraid that you might never heal," thing.

And then goes on to describe that it wasn't enough to push me away, he had to pull me back, too. And then push me back away again. I probably would have grown up as a normal kid if he could have just left me alone. Now I have a fear of phones, people (males in particular), and serious trust issues. It was like I was caught in this violent undertow, drowning. I didn't have any choice.

But at least now I have the choice to run away. I always was one for fight or flight. And I'm not a particularly confrontational person. I've mentioned it before, right? "She Runs" is the translation of my name. Go figure, yeah?

Nostalgia

Eh. Sometimes I listen to music and hear voices.

Shouldn't it be the other way around? Should the music drown out the voices? And I know the voices don't come from the music, because I can still hear them when I mute it.

It's always been like that, though. I even have memories of it when I was a baby. It has this distinct hunter green, burnt orange feeling. And it kind of feels like the sound of an owl crossed with a throbbing train. Reminds me of the kids section at Books-a-Million. And it's sort of like when you stand up and blood rushes to your head.

I know. It's more of those beta thoughts. Sometimes they don't make sense when they come out of the translation. It's hard to find a synonym....how do you feel a color? But there's no other word for it.

I've been feeling a little mentally weak, lately. I've been having a lot of trouble with memory. Metacognitive memory in particular. Especially when I sing. It's like that part of my brain is being shut off as I'm using it. I'll be in the middle of a phrase, and I'll forget the lyrics as I'm singing them. Even when the words are the same as the phrase before it....it's so frustrating!

And it's getting really easy to get depressed. I sort of want to crawl into bed and never come out. Guitar is lacking the satisfaction is usually gives. I'm not hungry at all. I don't really want to eat. Food that I usually like tastes sort of disgusting to me right now.

But I know that I can't let it get to me. I have to fight it. If I just let it swallow me like I did in that Freshman year of high school, I'll never be able to survive it.

And I know I can fight it. I just have to find the right music. Sadly, however, I'm still missing about 10 gigs of my music collection. What I do have isn't everything I need to pull out of it. I have Death Cab at least. That helps. I still have to find everything all over again.