apocalypticbob: (Default)
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I can actually answer this one from experience, in a way. While not the home of my dreams, I rented a house here in Cushing for a while that always felt uneasy to me. I rented it purely because I was desperate and it was in my price range. After moving in, I sank into a deep, deep suicidal depression. My brother came over and almost committed suicide in the kitchen. Smog suffered horrible nightmares. I would resist going home, staying later and later at work. I started drinking, at home, alone, which I don't do and had never done before. I would hear things that weren't there, and I would hear this constant ticking in the wall that was starting to drive me crazy.

One day, a friend and long time Cushing resident dropped me off after I went out with them, and he casually said, "Oh, you live in the Murder House."

I boggled and asked for clarification.

He explained that one of the last murders that happened in Cushing (they don't happen here often) was a man who killed his wife and then himself, in front of their children.

Yeah. I moved out as soon as possible. I've always wondered what might have happened had I stayed there, and I'm pretty sure it would have been something horrible.

When I was a child, we lived in a house in Scotland that was very haunted, but there wasn't the same sense of malice and anger in it...more playful and prankster like.
apocalypticbob: (Default)
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Eh, everyone has the right to lust over whomever they choose, as far as I'm concerned. It's the actions that matter, in the long run, and the odds of a partner of mine getting the opportunity to screw the object of their lust is likely slim. Fantasies are fantasies. I'd likely be bemused, or perhaps even jokingly scornful if it was someone truly repulsive, but certainly not jealous.
apocalypticbob: (Default)
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I can't answer for others, but I tend to have the most random luck in the world. One day my car engine might blow up, the next I might win a contest. One day I might be sick, the next I might be...well, who knows?

I have friends and family members who seem to have more luck in certain things than others. Some are lucky in love, some are lucky in finance, some are lucky in winning things. I do think that some things are just chance, there are some things that just happen, there are some things we may not understand and can't control, but what we can control is our reaction to things that happen. Our reactions can bring us fortune or curse us far more than mere happenstance.

Me, I'm lucky in friends. Having awesome friends around me makes my times of good luck so much sweeter and my times of bad luck far more bearable.

I wouldn't trade that for anything.
apocalypticbob: (Default)
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I like someone to take care of me a little bit, but mostly I want to be able to rest. In a perfect world, I'd have someone who'd bring me some homemade chicken soup and go get my prescriptions and check in on me every couple of hours and make sure I'm doing okay. In reality, I have a son who will kiss me on the head and bring me the thermometer and Tylenol and tuck the blanket around my feet and bring me a cool, damp washcloth for my head when I need one, and that's pretty awesome.

If I think I'm contagious, I stay home. If I don't, and I'm able, I work, if I'm needed.
apocalypticbob: (Default)
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Easily The Breakfast Club, with Sixteen Candles coming in a close second.
apocalypticbob: (Default)
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A pair of Chihuahuas dancing on the Liberty Bell...which sounds like some kind of anti- immigration symbol or something.
apocalypticbob: (Default)
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1) I won archery, BB gun shooting, and backstroke competitions in summer camp when I was a young girl.

2) I am an amazing putt-putt golf player.

3) I am frightened of small birds.
apocalypticbob: (Default)
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When I was younger, I heard Judy Garland (in the Wizard of Oz) or Elizabeth Taylor (in National Velvet) all the time, with an occasional smattering of Jennifer Connelly (also known as Sarah from Labyrinth). Now that I'm older and fatter, I don't really get compared to celebrities, and I don't really think I look like any celebrities.

What do you think?
apocalypticbob: (Default)
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Let's see...I suppose it depends how you define meet and how you define celebrity. Most of the famous people I have met have been authors or musicians and most have been at meet & greets or autograph sessions. Here are a few of the cooler ones, though.

I met David Copperfield briefly after a performance in Panama City, Fl, when we lived there. He signed an autograph for me and smiled at me and I thought he was the most handsome man ever. (I was about 10.) I still think he is pretty hot. I do have a weakness for magicians.

I met Robert Cormier when I was in fourth grade. He was friends with my fourth grade teacher, and I had just finished reading The Chocolate Wars and The Bumblebee Flies Anyway at her urging, and when the class assignment was to pick someone famous to write to, I chose him. He wrote me back, and was very nice and gracious. He came to the Panama City branch of FSU to speak to the students and invited me to attend. I was the youngest person there, and most of what he said went over my head, but I do remember that he treated me with respect, treated me as an equal, instead of condescendingly as most adults did. He listened to what I had to say with interest, and I have never forgotten that. I hope that remembering that makes me a better parent and teacher.

I met Rodney Carrington on my 22nd birthday. He was performing at Tumbleweeds in Stillwater, OK, and I went with a couple of guys from work to see him. It was a long, awesome performance, which was great, except for the fact that we had to stand through the whole thing and I had worn cute high heeled espadrilles. My feet were killing me by the time we passed his autograph table. I didn't have anything for him to sign, so I leaned forward and pulled the neckline of my shirt a little lower and had him sign my left breast. He looked back at his wife, and she not only nodded her approval, she pulled out a camera and snapped a picture! He seemed incredibly amused by it, and remarked on my "tig ole' biddies".

I met Laurell K. Hamilton a couple of years ago at Conestoga. I found her to be lovely, and short. She told me to stand up straight when I had my picture taken with her, and joked around with me as she signed the books I had bought for friends. I still haven't read anything of hers...maybe I'll add her to the list after I finish the Jacqueline Carey books.

I don't get star struck easily. I tend to remember that celebrities are people, even when they themselves seem to forget it. As far as I'm concerned, everyone should be treated the same. When I meet someone who is considered a celebrity, I treat them as I would anyone else, with kindness, with manners, and with a touch of humor, and it has always stood me in good stead.
apocalypticbob: (Default)
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*laughs*

I think it's fairly obvious that it is lust, since I live in it constantly, though, to quote Malcolm Reynolds in Serenity, "I'm a fan of all seven."
apocalypticbob: (Default)
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I'd like my body to be harvested for zydrate, and all my friends to have a hit and...

Oh, wait. I don't live in REPO! The Genetic Opera.

Hmmm...

I would like any usable parts of my body to be donated to help other people. I am listed as an organ donor, and I'm all about that. Beyond that, whatever makes my family happy is fine with me. Mom wants a big Irish style party, with lost of music and drinking and people telling stories and such, and that would be awesome. I would prefer not to have a Baptist style funeral, where someone is trying to convert people over my corpse, because I think that is creepy. A few tears, a lot of laughter, and everyone taking some flowers home with them would be awesome to me. A lot of my family is buried in Marlow, and if that would be convenient, then that would suit me, but I'm so not going to care at that point.
apocalypticbob: (Default)
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I was at work, busy scanning the concrete floor of an abandoned building for alpha contamination. My mother, who worked with me, came in from running to the local Wal-Mart for supplies, and she told us that she had heard on the radio in the van that a plane had hit the WTC. She didn't have any more details than that, and we kind of thought it was a small plane. It has happened before, so we really didn't think much of it.

A little bit later, the radio on Mom's hip crackled, and the site manager told us all to secure our areas and report to the main office building immediately. We did so, and we were told briefly what happened, and then the television was turned on and we watched the buildings for a few minutes. We were then informed that because of Cushing's status on the terrorist hit list, we were welcome to take the rest of the day off with pay and leave if we felt more comfortable doing so. See, Cushing is a small town, but it is filled and surrounded by oil tank farms, and every major oil pipeline in country crosses under this town, hence the name "Pipeline Crossroads Of The World." Those two facts have placed Cushing on many a hit list. Mom and I opted to come home. I stopped by the daycare on the way home and scooped up Smog, who was not quite three years old at that point. We came home and turned on the television and didn't turn it off for the next few days. Smog watched the towers collapse, and his words at that moment will be remain etched into my heart:" Mama, those people need help. Their castle is falling down." For being so young, he grasped the magnitude of it pretty well.

The next few days were spent watching news reports and listening to the sound of fighter jets flying patrol over the city. We cried until there were no more tears, and then we sobbed until there was no more breath. Then we waited for life to return to normal, equal parts eager for it to happen and certain that it never would.

For most of us, life has returned to normal. We complain about tightened security restrictions and pin a flag on our lapels in the middle of September and shake our heads when people use the disaster for political and monetary gain. The human spirit is a resiliant thing when it comes to catastrophe. We bruise, we heal, and we pick back up and start life again. If we lived with the constant palor of pain, we'd be unable to survive. I have bruised and healed from many things in my life, but 9/11 left scars with me that I think shall carry with me forever. I don't want to completely heal. I don't want to forget. I want always be angry and saddened at the depravity that humans are capable of. Part of me is afraid that the day we stop being angry about it is the day it becomes acceptable to us, and that I will never allow.

Today, I pray for peace for those left behind. I pray that the good memories of their loved ones are in their minds more than the sadness of their loss. I pray that we never forget.
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