|
About Me
Name: Cleo Age: 20 Where: Unknown Likes: chocolate, books, friends, family, writing, comedy, computers, CSI Dislikes: racism, bigotry, closed-mindedness, the Undead, the Fiend Reading: Lemony Snicket books; "Sherlock In Love"; fanfics Listening to: Jem- Finally Woken; C.S.I. soundtrack Quote of the Moment: "Nicky notices a man selling rope. Jakob Dylan sings the national anthem, Brass throws out the first clue, and the A-game has commenced." Links TV Glomping Airbags Deploy Blacwolf Clawed Duct Tp Fairy Scootersoo Geek Love NAU Word Fun
|
Wednesday, June 30, 2004
last one. I promise. while I think that combining elements of the last two results is more me (I have short silvery hair and a cute face, do enjoy my computer and the company of DTF [who has people in her head that I can't see], do like guns and provide occasional comic relief to our merry band of oddballs) I think this result is the most me. my unusual relationships with teachers, my ability to see in the dark (which covers the Looks and Powers) and my enjoyment of guns and justice (fitting Occupation, n'est-ce pas), enjoy. til next post. Cleo opened her eyes at 12:33 PM dear insoms, Considering my new look and the obsession with getting online at any available time (and the fact that my love life is currently non existent), I think this result is a better fit. What do you think? Cleo opened her eyes at 12:30 PM dear insoms, the next time you can't sleep, I recommend passing the time by taking online quizzes. I'm going to add some pages to my links section. click one the next time you're bored. Quizilla.com is a fantastic site, as is Memegen.net (I took my first quiz from there today.) Here are the results. Cleo opened her eyes at 12:26 PM Tuesday, June 29, 2004 dear insoms, I have decided to post the stuff about the Man Eating Vagina tattoo that I was debating putting up in my X-Files recap. so here it is. enjoy. Back at Ed's -- oh, fine. Cut to the tattoo parlor. Bactine is sprayed on Scully's bare back. She inhales sharply. They shave her back. Scully shoots Ed a very flirtatious look. He smiles at her. Milty peels the ink thingie -- you know, the stencil-like thing they use so they're not all free-handing it -- off her back, showing the design. It's the snake she was looking at earlier. Weird, porn-y Hey, Tattoos Are HOT music plays in the background. Cut to close shots of the needle, the ink, the breaking of skin. "She wants the same red, like mine," Ed says. Scully gasps as Milty gets going with the needle. She is so having cheer sex with Ed. They both look a little hot and bothered. Okay, a whole lot hot and bothered. Tattooing. Tattooing. Could this be more of a sex metaphor? With all the (subdued, thank God) orgasm faces from Scully and the breaking of the skin with a phallic object (the needle) and the snake which is itself also a phallic object (not to mention the fact that it's a phallic object which has been transformed into a -- shit, I can't remember what the lady version of phallic is. Vaginocentric? [oh yeah. Yonic.] Whatever. It's circular. And in making itself circular (i.e. female), the snake has to destroy itself (by eating itself), which of course ties into this theme that pops up in horror films all the time, which is that that which is "female" is to be feared, because it will devour you- either literally or metaphorically- and that's totally all represented in the very image of the snake! Also, of course, in Ed's tattoo-- Jodie (a vengeful woman) is destroying Ed, much as his wife (another vengeful woman) destroyed him when she divorced him. All that being said, however, I'm sure Chris Carter and company designed Scully's snake tattoo-- and don't get me started on the symbolism of giving Scully a tattoo that represents a man-eating vagina, because I could go on for days about 1013's Issues With Women. Also, don't look at me that way. We talked about the Man-Eating Vagina in my History of the Horror Film class for, like, weeks. Oh, shut up. P.S.- Man-Eating Vagina is the name of my new band. (And yes, I know that the tattoo is that symbol thingie from Millennium, which I guess premiered or something the week this episode aired originally, and so it's a little 1013 shout-out, but I find their in-jokes annoying and so I'm just pretending I don't know about that, okay?) And now I have no idea where I was. What's my name? Anyway, Ed peeks at the process, then back at Scully. He smiles. Unlike everyone I've watched get a tattoo, she doesn't look like she's in too much pain. She actually seems like she's enjoying it. And when I say, "enjoying it," I mean "enjoying it." (of course, considering my views of pleasure vs. pain and how one is just a more acceptable form of the other... well, you can see why I went so in depth about writing that stuff.) Concluding, Milty wipes blood away from Scully's back. All done! p.s.- since I had to gloss over the sex part (and the stuff leading up to it), too, I thought I'd write that for you as well. Here ya go. Back at Ed's. He looks out the window at the rain and tells Scully that he thinks she had better stay. You know. For her own good. "The weather and a few drinks under your belt..." he says. "I'd just feel better if you stayed here." (I just bet you would, you sexy thing you.) Scully smiles at her shoes. "I'm not up to anything," Ed promises. "I just want you to be safe. I'll take the couch." Scully smiles up at him. Ed waits a beat before asking if her tattoo hurts. She shakes her head. "Yeah, um, it feels weird," she says. "I, uh, I can't see it and...I feel different...and, um, I don't know how I feel about that," Scully finishes. Ed walks over. They look at each other. He walks around and pulls up the back of her shirt, taking off the bandage. "It looks all right," he tells her. Scully turns around to face him and notices blood on his cuff. "Ed, you're bleeding again." She wants to take a look at it. "I am a doctor," Scully says, and starts ripping off his clothes. "They said this could happen," he offers weakly. What? That your crazy talking tattoo would bleed and a sexually repressed doctor/scientist/FBI agent would rip off your shirt under the guise of tending to your wounds? That's one hell of a tattoo. So, Scully takes off all his clothes. Well, most of them. "Ed, it looks burned," Scully says, holding his arm gently. "Get her hands off of me!" Jodie growls. Ed grabs Scully's hands, moving them roughly away. Scully gasps and looks up at him. They stare at each other. "Those are bad thoughts you're having, baby," Jodie warns Ed. "Kiss her, and she's dead." So Ed kisses Scully. The camera pulls back. Ed slams the door shut. And we retreat into the darkness and down the hall. Not the farthest 1013 has ever pushed the envelope on the show, but interest- piquing nonetheless. til next post. Cleo opened her eyes at 3:16 PM Thursday, June 24, 2004 dear insoms, Don't you just hate it when crazy religious cults insert banana slugs into your body against your will, just because they think the slugs are Jesus Christ? Cause I know I sure do. Is this going to lead to "W.W.B.S.D.?" bracelets- What Would Banana Slug Do? If it is, I'm just gonna cash out now and hole up in a bomb shelter somewhere... or Grissom's apartment (after all, they have the same frequency of interaction with other humans.) Now that I have you all royally confused (if you aren't, I'll just be sad) I should probably explain... *points up* that. Normally my posts have some semblance of rhyme and reason, or at least method to my deprivation induced madness... but not this time. Forget rhyme. Ignore reason. The X-Files have taken over my brain and everyone is still really, really confused. In other news, I got a record 13.5 hours of sleep yesterday. My bedroom is looking better, so I'm inclined to spend more time in there, but to be honest, it's never going to be featured in Architectural Digest... unless they do a spread on the Ten Most Depressing Apartments in Arizona, Ever. Unfortunately, after the sleep-a-thon of Tuesday night/Wednesday morning, I couldn't sleep last night. so I stayed up to watch The X-Files (all X junkies and fanatics, rise with me now to hum the theme song.) For those of you who don't watch the show, I'm going to go over the highlights and you can read it or not as the mood strikes. it was the ep where the guy gets a Bettie Page tattoo that drives him to kill people, and I was struck by the oddest thing. The tattooed psycho was actually kind of cute. I mean, he slams into his apartment and drops his keys on the sofa and starts slowly peeling off his wet clothes- and my brain sat up and went Hellllo. (I'm sorry. I know. He's not...well, that's the thing, he's not bad, he just has a -- man, this one is hard to describe like I don't know what's going to happen. Let's just say that if you have to get involved with a dude with a tattoo that makes him want to kill you, it helps when he's easy on the eyes. That's all I'm saying. So, I'm sitting there watching this episode, and I start to get kind of emotional. I'm drooling over Mulder and empathizing with the psycho and badly needing chocolate, while The Sad Piano of Petra; Seriously- Suicide Might Not Be Such a Bad Idea, In Light of What's Probably Going to Happen to You Later (Just Kidding, Kids: Suicide Is Never the Answer) plays in the background. *shrugs* but I digress. So anyway, Scully's at a memorial in D.C., and looking forlorn- and with good reason. [the episode before this, she found out she has cancer... from a dude who can regenerate his own head (and who, ironically, later becomes the only doctor on ER that I don't want to smack with a nine-iron).] I mean, yeah, she has the alien abduction/dead sister thing out of the way, but she's still got cancer, the wonder duo of Doggett & Moronica, Mulder drilling holes in his skull, Mulder going crazy, Mulder dying, Mulder dying, Mulder dying, Mulder dying, Mulder being abducted, Diana Fowley, whale songs, giving her Sort-of-Alien-I-Guess-He's-A-Miracle-But-He's-Gone-So-Who-Cares Baby up for adoption, and the end of the world left to contend with. All that, and they've still got her in taupe pantsuits. Man, life is cruel. Soldiering on, Scully's sitting at Mulder's desk, examining his name plaque. She looks at the "I Want To Believe" poster. Her hair looks very, very nice. (Take off the taupe, though, Dana. Take off the taupe.) Then Mulder pops in, mad b/c the Bureau is making him take a vacation by threatening to dock his pay if he doesn't get the hell out of town. And Scully finally asks the question that we've all been pondering since the Pilot: "Why don't I have a desk?" Mulder, having never given the matter much thought and assuming Scully had a desk in one of the dark corners of the Lush Basement Office, replies, "We'll have them send down another desk and there won't be any room to move down here but we can put them really close together, face to face and maybe we can play Battleship," he says. Scully doesn't crack a smile; neither did I. Cause while the image of the two of them playing Battleship is a cute one. excuse me, Mulder. Scully can't have a desk because you'll feel too cramped? In your basement office? I hate to say this -- really, it pains me -- but shut up. just sit there and look pretty... Good boy. Anyway, Mulder is asking Scully to keep an eye on stuff while he's gone, and hands her a paper, asking her to run checks on all these Russian dudes, then go to Philadelphia and follow them around. (The names on this list, by the way, include "Vladimer Nabokov" and "Yakof Smirnoff." Did you know that "Smirnoff" is in Microsoft Word's Spellcheck? "Smirnoff," but not "dicksmack." What the hell kind of world are we living in?) Scully icily informs him that she's not going, because the contact who gave him the list- while "interesting in the context of science fiction," -was actually recounting the plot of a Rocky and Bullwinkle episode. "Eenie meenie, chili beanie, the spirits are about to speak?" Mulder sings. Scully recounts the plot of said episode. It is, indeed, exactly what the guy told them. Mulder purses his mouth up in a tiny little circle. "So, you're refusing an assignment based on the adventures of Moose and Squirrel," he asks. (Get it? Because they're Moose and -- oh, you get it). Continuing down the never ending path of Psychoticness we're skipping down, the tattoo guy apparently wants to have his tattoo covered up. I can't imagine why. Think of all the fun you could have with a talking tattoo; you'd never be bored on long car rides again! Since the artist won't cover it til it's fully healed, Ed (a.k.a. tattoo psycho) sulks out and Scully follows him. They sort of hit it off, and she ends up at his apartment. I only have one piece of advice for Ed (and all my dear readers): When you've got a girl coming over, hide all evidence of the fact that you're a bit...troubled. At least on the first date. All the pictures with your head burned out, and the ones where you've scrawled "loser" on your face with Sharpie, or the ones where you've pasted a picture of Christy Turlington in next to you -- those all need to get shoved in the bottom drawer of your desk for the time being. okay? good. moving on. He takes her to a scummy bar, and procedes to point out that everyone else seems to have it worse off than him. Scully says you can't tell what's going on in someone's head just by looking at them. "I mean, they probably think we're the ones who are screwed up," she says. "Aren't we?" Ed asks, leaning in closer to her. But not in a creepy way. (See, that's one of the brilliant things about this episode: Ed is a killer, yes, and he's certainly got issues. But nutsy talking tattoo aside, he's a pretty sympathetic character.) Scully doesn't answer, but I think I can field Ed's question. the answer is: yes, yes, a thousand times yes. You are both phenomenally screwed up. To quickly gloss over the next part (which I wrote about in 2 pages of extreme detail in my notebook; I'm still deciding if I want to post it, cause it is wierd and you don't want to get me started on the symbolism of giving Scully a tattoo that represents a man-eating vagina, because I could go on for days about 1013's Issues With Women. Also, don't look at me that way. We talked about the Man-Eating Vagina in my History of the Horror Film class for, like, 3 weeks. Oh, shut up.) Scully gets a tattoo of her own and has hot monkey sex with Tattoo Ed in his depressing apartment. Mulder comes home and WE find out why Ed's tattoo is making him crazy. and Scully gets to pay for having a little fun with a hot guy. Can't have the future mother of the Savior of the World (Or Is He?) having sex with a dude she just met. Cause that won't do at all. She's got to remain untouched, in preparation for her one lonely night with Mr. Mulder. [Maybe after she gives it up, Mulder will get her a damned desk!] (Okay, I just looked at the clock and my time's almost up, so the last part of this is gonna go fast.) Ed tries to kill Scully; she wakes up in the hospital with Mulder watching her sleep; they fight; and after a great shot of the two of them sitting there in silence, both looking completely miserable and uncomfortable and angry and frustrated, we fade out. Good times. Cleo opened her eyes at 2:00 PM Tuesday, June 22, 2004 dear readers and fellow insoms, it is amazing, is it not, the roller coaster ride that is some days? take today for instance. I woke up after far too little sleep, to go play in the lab. Had lots of fun and learned tons, and my mentor says she's looking forward to teaching me more down the road as she continues shaping me into her assistant and protoge. Then I went online, and received a devastating blow. My breathing is shallow & ragged, my pulse is alarmingly high and my face & body are growing dangerously warm (a testament to how upset I am). Can it be possible that I am so ill thought of? by people I love and care about? Are those I want around me and miss so desperately the ones who truly... hate me? (I tremble at the thought.) I feel angry and sick, furious and nauseous, seeing red and tasting bile. My very thoughts are making me ill, and only writing them out seems to purge the poison within. My world is cut away from me; my friends are lost. Cleo opened her eyes at 4:32 PM Monday, June 14, 2004 dear insoms, once again, I post. two posts in one day is unusual but technically I was just reposting a post from last week, so it does not count as a post for the day. anyway, currently I am so shaken by the dreams of the past two nights, I am amazed at the calmness with which I completed orientation today. They filled me with such foreboding and dread that I am not even going to describe them; it's too painful. In addition to the mental distress caused by my nocturnal film noir, I also have something pretty big weighing on my mind. I want and need to talk to a specific someone about it, but the thought of that particular conversation is actually making me ill. on a brighter note, I looked great at orientation: black dance slacks, cami and heels, with a green button down. and last night I created a new nail polish color: Nicole's Orange Sunset over two coats of Pink Bikini. it looks like melted raspberry sherbet or a Hawaiian sunset sky. *squeals with glee* pretty pretty pretty! Desert is doing a manga-esque portrait of our circle of friends, as well as individual pics of each of us. I'm trying to decide which alter ego I want to be drawn as/with. there aren't many... they're just varied. *takes a deep breath; exhales* tonight I look forward to a fairly uncomplicated evening -including popcorn and a classic film- before turning in early and prepping myself for my first day as a volunteer C.S.I. wish me luck. and as always, I wish you sweet dreams and interesting Sleep Deprivation Psychoses. til next post. Cleo opened her eyes at 5:29 PM dear insoms, I am praying that this post goes through. it's actually a post from Friday or Saturday of last week, but the computer I was working on was being a butt and wouldn't post due to internal server errors. *sticks tongue out at dumb computer* anyway, here goes. after another wierd dream [the other] night that combined characters and components from several of my favorite tv shows (C.S.I., Without a Trace, Sue Thomas, Crossing Jordan, Pretender), I have decided I am slowly going nuts. Stress and other things are causing some of the oddest dreams I've had in a while. And I have now come to grips with the real reason I used to keep myself up for days on end before sleeping; it was to avoid dreaming, since when I finally would sleep, my body would make it dreamless to more efficiently refuel itself. The enforcement of a somewhat regular sleep cycle is causing the strangeness factor to shoot off the charts. And in other news, I have had the same song playing in my head for the past four days. It serves as a soundtrack for some of my dreams (or pertinent parts therein), I find myself whistling or humming it for no reason, and when there's nothing good on the radio, I turn it off and sing it over and over. the sad/unusual/wierd thing about it is that it's oddly appropriate for my dream situations and befitting of my love life. It is "Stupid" by Sarah McLachlan, and in an attempt to get it out of my head for awhile, I'm going to scribe the lyrics for you. Read, enjoy, listen to it, and watch the music video if you get the chance. Til next post. Night lift up the shades let in the brilliant light of morning But steady there now for I am weak and starving for mercy Sleep has left me alone to carry the weight of unravelling where we went wrong It's all I can do to hang on to keep me from falling into old familiar shoes How stupid could I be? A simpleton could see That you're no good for me But you're the only one I see love has made me a fool it set me on fire and watched as I floundered unable to speak except to cry out and wait for your answer But you come around in your time Speaking of fabulous places/ create an oasis that dries up as soon as you're gone you leave me here burning in this desert without you *chorus* Everything changes/ everything falls apart Can't stand to feel myself losing control but deep in my senses I know *chorus* Cleo opened her eyes at 5:24 PM Thursday, June 10, 2004 Dear Insoms, one of the interesting things about getting sleep every once in a while are the dreams that wait for you. The dreams waiting for me for the past two weeks have fallen into one of three catagories: 1- dreams where I beat the hell out of someone (or get it beat out of me), 2- dreams that make no sense whatever (like the one where an actor with a paperclip wrench turns the sprinklers on at a new version of my old high school) or 3- dreams where I throw some hapless guy on a bed and have at it (and we're talking the good, R- rated romance novel kind of sex, too.) Why this is happening is beyond me; one of my friends (who doubles as a therapist when needed) says that the violence dreams are an attempt to deal with the chaos in my life, the wierd dreams are probably just things getting cleared out of my head, and the sex stuff is because I'm hormonal primed for it and not doing anything [or anyone] about it. *shrugs* I don't see why I have to do anything on that point, but it's worth considering. In other news, work and play are going pretty well, I was in a mild car accident today (don't worry, I'm fine) and I'm waiting patiently to get my tickets for Harry Potter. I'm also very tense and stressed, and in desperate need of a deep tissue massage followed by a bubble bath. Oh well. And now, I must go. As always, sweet dreams and interesting Sleep Deprivation Psychoses. Til next post. Cleo opened her eyes at 4:12 PM Tuesday, June 01, 2004 dear insoms, returned from PHX safe and sound, although loaded with cherry juice and diet soda (it's all I drank at the bar.) stopped in Tucson on the way home for a visit, had a pleasant evening with DesertSabertooth and his mom. Memorial Day weekend was uneventful. Swam, played cards, watched movies & drunk karaoke, participated in sober karaoke, got my grades from last semester (ouch!!!) Going to watch Deliver Us from Eva tonight with Mom; still trying to convince her Daredevil is a good movie so we can watch it. *keep your fingers crossed* meanwhile, C.S.I. had its season finale on the 23. *sigh* I yet have hope that Sara (Jorga Fox) will take that all important first step - and the 11 that follow - so that the S.S. Geek Love may safely dock on Relationship Island... someday. Til then, we can just pray for a sweeps stunt involving Nicky (George Eads) and Warrick (Gary Dourdan) going undercover as lifeguards. (But only if it's a multipart sweeps stunt. I don't want it to seem tawdry.) *wink wink* Til next post, sweet dreams and interesting Sleep Deprivation Psychoses. Cleo opened her eyes at 1:26 PM |