Last evening, the evening of the 15th, I was turning into the parking lot of a poolhouse out near where I live. The rain was rather heavy, it was dark, and cars aplenty were driving towards me with brights on. Due to this, and the plum idiocy of me, I missed the entrance to the establishment, and instead ran over the curb. There was a two foot drop on the other side of the curb.
The result?
I broke the cradle on the lower front end of my car, fractured 6 bolts in the transmission and engine, fucked up my alignment and shocks, locked my seatbelt, and dropped my engine block to a comfortable resting position of right the fuck on top of the frame.
Luckily for me, since I'm paying 200 fucking bucks a month mind you, I have full coverage.
So instead of the 3k dollars it's gonna cost to fix it, I only gotta pay 500.
Oh and probably pay an additional three thousand dollars over the next three years in increased insurance rates. Forgot that part, how silly of me.
So my beautiful car, on which I still owe 11k... the one where I put every one of the 23k miles on it that are on it... that very same car... has been royally fucked in the anus. Without lube.
Oh yeah, and I got my wallet fucked at the same time, no extra charge.

Why if my personal life wasn't so grand, I might be a tad upset...
Oh wait.

I'm gonna go beat my head against the wall till one of them gives.

So Halloween...
My favorite holiday of the year, and the one day I year I feel utterly rabid about when it comes to dressing up and being in costume and the whatnot.
I was afraid for a while that I would be unable to do anything at all for this wonderfully splendiforous day.
But then I developed a master plan...

Two and a half hours worth of shaving my legs and chest...
Thirty minutes worth of shaving my face and arms...
Fifteen minutes worth of makeup...
and about Forty-Five minutes of getting the boobs the right size...
and James suddenly became a girl.

The costume all in all took roughly five and a half hours to prepare. By far the longest I've ever spent on getting ready for Halloween. But the result was worthwile to say the least. My goal was to look like a girl dressing up gothy for Halloween instead of looking like a guy dressing up like a girl. In that I seemed to have had an incredible degree of success, seeing as how people that work with me every day still didn't know I was me at first, or sometimes even at second or third, glance.

My thanks go out to my friends who made this possible. They curled my hair, did my nails, did my makeup, and provided the cloths that I wore. I would not have succeeded in my master plan without em.

Pictures will be forthcoming, hopefully within the next week ^.^

Just came back to my hotel afterthe SG Burlesue show.
It was fucking phenomenal! I loved it!
Every bit of the show was well orchastrated and wonderfully performed.
I'd like to give a big shout out to all the girls who made the show possible, and performed in it. You did an awesome job!
I'm glad my first ever Burlesque show was one of this calibur.
Thank you all for the wonderful night!

I'm in Chicago!!
Tomorrow night at the Double Door, I'm going to witness the full glory of the Suicide Girls Burlesque show!
Congratulate me on my fortune ^.^

I post now after having been prouctive for the first time in roughly a week. The events of the past weeks have driven any desire to do something clean out of me. I feel dazed, like I was punched in the face, everything slightly out of focus and I can't seem to figure out how I got to facing the way I am now.
But I've been productive today. Not to suggest that I've shaken off the pall I'm under. But I could not stand to continue to have my apartment a mess. So I did my dishes, clean the kitchen, and now I'm getting ready for work. But I had to stop and post. Few people glance at this journal. Fewer still ever return to see if something new has been posted. But that's okay. I can deal with that. It's life.
Why post, though, in a journal no one reads?
I have no idea. And yet my fingers are typing. Urged on by my mind.

I cannot continue to be unproductive. A man does not stand still, he either moves forward, or he moves back. Lack of productivity means I'm back-sliding. I cannot have that...
I will not live forever...

I've had perhaps the worst week of my life. It started on Saturday night at a party where a girl I really liked was having a birthday celebration. We made out. It was good. Then after midnight things went downhill. This girl was drinking, but then so was I. She can hold her alcohol, I've drank with her before. And she didn't drink all that much. After everybody left she advanced on me, and I responded eagerly. I gave her every opertunity to draw the line because I don't tread where I'm not wanted. But we ended up in her bed having sex none-the-less. About 3/4 of the way through, she starts shutting me out in the way women have perfected for ages. Tossing up emotional barriers, making snide comments, generally saying "back the fuck off". Hurt, I left. She called me half an hour later to ask me what happened. There she claimed she had blacked out and didn't remember any of it.
That was bad enough, that and the argument it spawned.
But that wasn't enough, not enough by half. No, now she, who never blacks out and drank much more the following night to no ill effect, and has never blacked out before... Now she's claiming that I drugged her and raped her.
-.-
1. I don't have access to drugs like that...
2. I'm not that desperate for sex...
3. I would never do that to anyone, it goes against my code for living...
4. I'd kill a mother fucker who did that to someone...

All of this makes me feel really good. Lemme tell you....
For those of you who didn't try and cut that sarcasm with a knife...
I think I'm going to go cut myself and splash the blood on the glass of my patio doors and see if I can divine my future in the blood-sorrow splatter pattern.




... in better news, I'm going to the SG Burlesque show when it hits Chi-Town. Can't wait.

So I've finally decided that I'm not ugly.
While this may not seem like too big a thing, this is a huge step for me. I still won't believe the fallacy that I'm atractive, but I will admit that I'm not ugly. A bit on the mediocre side, but that's okay, I'm not entering any beauty contests. I decided this just recently when I looked in the mirror one morning and instead of my tradional "Ewww" I just said "Eh".
Now if I could just work on the personality

I turn older this month -.-
But in better news, I'm throwing a party for it ^.^
Anyone want an invite?

So I'm prooving further my rampant geekiness...
Aparently, designing two universes, building deities and histories, designing cultures, creating a language, desigining a map of a world using an Excel Spreadsheet, writing up hundreds of pages of text for a tabletop rpg, rendering a 3d model of a cosmology detailing how the dimensions work together for another world, playing WoW constantly, and creating myself as a WoD character are not sufficient examples of my geekiness.
So I am starting a new project.
I have laid out the floor plan for a castle, nay fortress. With companion outbuildings on the rock upon which it is built, it will be a sum total of 1200 feet by 1200 feet square. A sum total of 15 stories in height. Anyone willing to build such a monstrosity deserves a medal, and probably a raise.
However I will not be building said fortress in all of its majesty. Despite creating it in Excel at a 1 cell to five feet ratio so that I might use it in an upcoming D&D game, I will not be building it full scale in reality. However, I will be building, out of wood, sweat, and blood, a scale model of said fortress... of DOOM. At a ratio of one inch to every ten feet I will end up with a scale model aprox. ten foot by ten foot square. And roughly three feet tall.
Why am I building this monstrosity?
Two reasons.
One, it will be useful in my upcoming D&D game, and therefor worthwhile.
Two, I want to build it as an outlet for my creativity, and to prove that I can do it.


It's okay, you can say it, I'm a geek.

When I woke this morning I was a blank board.
Empty of drive or inhibition.
I thought not of yesterday, nor of tomorrow, but yet I thought a great deal.
Time was present as it always is, trying its level best to kill me.
But I ignored it.
I didn't think of how much my life has passed me by. Nor of how much I've missed or will miss. I didn't think of what I should do to reach for my goals. I didn't think of the oppertunities I had not taken because I was too skeptical, or too scared, or too blah. All the things I passively resist because it might take effort or involve risk.
But thanks to this post, now I am thinking about it.
Damn you mind.