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rachg821. I enjoy the fact that I'm drinking Diet Coke as I write this. (see: subject heading.) Oh, irony. You're not just a fly in my Chardonnay after all.
I also enjoy utilizing quotes so random they necessitate a trail of breadcrumbs dropped in my mind for others to understand their meaning. Is that weird?
2. Remember the cab driver who friended me on Facebook? He told me I was pretty the other day. Ruh-roh! WHY CAN'T PEOPLE I LIKE FIND ME ATTRACTIVE?
I totally just ignored him, btw. Haha. Err. And then continued talking about the myth of Narcissus with my friend. Y'know, as one does.[/awkward]
3. I ate twice the other day--can I get an "and what"? Thank you. *brushes dirt off her shoulders* Of course I didn't manage it yesterday or today, but hey, points for effort. Figures now my stomach is reacting to the shitfest stress-o-rama that is my life by bringing on the ole' cha-cha-cha (i.e. time to reach for the immodium). SUPER helpful when it comes to encouraging me to eat, lemme tell you. WHATEVER, UNIVERSE. Or, really, whatever, "brain", I should say. That's the true d-bag in this case, when you get right down to it.
4. Just over 5,100 words written in my fic, ladies and. . .well, ladies. (Dang, remember when livejournal had gents?) I've only got about two more sections to go, and I plan to burn the midnight oil if I have to--this puppy WILL be done before tomorrow night's episode. There'll be no preview clips watched or fanfics read otherwise until then, as I don't want anything influencing/interfering with my already preexisting ideas & interpretations. Like, "NO, I know what I'm writing & THAT'S IT." Haha. Sure, sure, I could keep writing after tomorrow. I know. BUT NO. I DON'T WANNA. Viva le resistance![/crazy person]
In other words: once I plan something, I'm not easily deterred. Especially since it's so ~perfect~, you know? With it being a winter finale? And me being done with my fanfic at the same time? SO CLEAN & COMPLETE. My borderline OCD tendencies will be all abuzz. Ha.
5. I'm feeling random today, so I figured I'd deliver some random-style entertainment to y'all. I waste a lot of time on facebook, having incredibly absurd conversations, and I frequently wish I could save some of them like IM messages. Finally, after a particularly ridic interaction I had earlier this week, I decided to simply take some screencaps for posterity (last names blacked out, Big Brother-style, though I'm not sure if it really matters as I'm leaving one uncensored that's a fake name. But whatever. Real last names are different seeming to me).
Also, I came across some old artwork of mine from my teenage days, and threw that in too. Good times!
Hee. Um, yeah. Not a lot else to say there. Facebook is a black hole of distraction & debauchery.
Now, onto the artwork. I actually found quite a bit more than this (I was looking through an old, unpacked box & there was a whole folder of stuff from my teenaged days, including poetry from when I was 13-17 as well), but whatevs. A few pics is plenty. I do think I'll share some of the poetry later though, but not now. I gots my fic to write; ain't got no time for lollygaggin'!
It's sixteen year old Rachael! Or a self-portrait of 16 yr old Rachael anyway. And some random crap on the right. I think it says a lot about me, actually. Of course I would've been drawing muslim women in burqas on one hand & then Winnie the Pooh characters on the other. OF COURSE. (for the record: my walls were covered at that age with my musical/tv/various other interests. Carl Sagan, Emily Dickinson, Tori Amos, David Duchovny & Gillian Anderson naked in bed together on the Rolling Stones, a snippet of my best friend's green hair in a plastic bag as an inside joke--it was all up there, and so were the cartoons I drew of Winnie the Pooh. Right below Trent Reznor licking a microphone. Totally fitting, yes? Hee.)
Aforementioned best friend. We met when we were eight & were like sisters until my 17th birthday (literally, the friendship ended over my birthday. She was supposed to meet me to see "Playing By Heart" & never showed, her second no-show in a week; I waited two hours at Pioneer Courthouse Square in January weather before finally leaving to see a later showing by myself. She went missing for a week instead, leaving me frantic, skipping town to Vancouver & then coming back so she could lie for the fifth millionth time about relapsing--which she'd been doing for months, in the midst of my mom going off the deep end simultaneously & my own slow slide into suicidal depression for the first time. I just couldn't deal with it anymore. We fought & then we never spoke again).
As for additional backstory, in case anyone's curious? She began using drugs at twelve & was addicted to heroin by the age of thirteen. By the time she got into rehab that year (for the first time, that is. She went more than once), she'd already damaged the cartilage in her nose from snorting so much. I spent almost every weekend with her until I was 17 (back when the MAX train didn't even come to my part of town, and taking the bus to her place meant a commute of over two hours) & never would've imagined then that she wouldn't be in my life now, drugs or not. Neither of us came from good homes (her dad kidnapped & raped her at the age of four. Her mom still let him come over & cook breakfast. I remember saying hello to him when he'd stop by to pick up her brother for visitation--my friend refused to go). She was one of the only friends I trusted to come over to my apartment, no matter what was happening there. For whatever it's worth now, regardless of what happened between us in the end or wherever she is now, that will always mean something to me.
There'll probably always be a little hole in my heart leftover from that friendship though, honestly. It's just that it's numbed by now. I'm not sure whether that's good or bad. If I think about her, my body feels it, but my mind doesn't. Does that even make sense? Like, my chest/heart hurts, but I don't feel it. It's just like, "well, that's that." Like a shrug. I don't even know.
Anyway. Moving on.
Lastly, this was the self-portrait I drew for a school project at 17. I remember I partially chose the broken mirror concept to avoid having to draw my whole face--laaaazy, ha--but I also intentionally chose it for what it symbolically represented. Says a lot.
Even so, I also remember I chose to *not* make it look exactly like a broken mirror because I thought it was too cliched. I think I've always just been a super contrary person. Haha. That, & I liked blue & red together & was just like, "I'M GONNA GET MY COLOR ON & I DON'T CARE." It's my party, homes, & I'll cry if I want to.
Aiiight, now, back to my fic so I can hammer this baby out. THE DAY IS MINE, TREBEK. (um, sorry, I've been watching a lot of YouTube & Hulu clips this week. . .and, yeah. I'm gonna go away now.)
My Vid of the Day is inspired by the Facebook conversation shared above. Blame![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
5brokenfingers for my association with this guy, as he's her boyfriend (with whom she is by the way a super cute match, hee. They ride through fields of daisies in rickshaws together--it's a thing). Seriously, when I mention that Portland is a city of weirdos? I'm not kidding. We are all complete & utter freaks.
Case in point:
I also enjoy utilizing quotes so random they necessitate a trail of breadcrumbs dropped in my mind for others to understand their meaning. Is that weird?
2. Remember the cab driver who friended me on Facebook? He told me I was pretty the other day. Ruh-roh! WHY CAN'T PEOPLE I LIKE FIND ME ATTRACTIVE?
I totally just ignored him, btw. Haha. Err. And then continued talking about the myth of Narcissus with my friend. Y'know, as one does.[/awkward]
3. I ate twice the other day--can I get an "and what"? Thank you. *brushes dirt off her shoulders* Of course I didn't manage it yesterday or today, but hey, points for effort. Figures now my stomach is reacting to the shitfest stress-o-rama that is my life by bringing on the ole' cha-cha-cha (i.e. time to reach for the immodium). SUPER helpful when it comes to encouraging me to eat, lemme tell you. WHATEVER, UNIVERSE. Or, really, whatever, "brain", I should say. That's the true d-bag in this case, when you get right down to it.
4. Just over 5,100 words written in my fic, ladies and. . .well, ladies. (Dang, remember when livejournal had gents?) I've only got about two more sections to go, and I plan to burn the midnight oil if I have to--this puppy WILL be done before tomorrow night's episode. There'll be no preview clips watched or fanfics read otherwise until then, as I don't want anything influencing/interfering with my already preexisting ideas & interpretations. Like, "NO, I know what I'm writing & THAT'S IT." Haha. Sure, sure, I could keep writing after tomorrow. I know. BUT NO. I DON'T WANNA. Viva le resistance![/crazy person]
In other words: once I plan something, I'm not easily deterred. Especially since it's so ~perfect~, you know? With it being a winter finale? And me being done with my fanfic at the same time? SO CLEAN & COMPLETE. My borderline OCD tendencies will be all abuzz. Ha.
5. I'm feeling random today, so I figured I'd deliver some random-style entertainment to y'all. I waste a lot of time on facebook, having incredibly absurd conversations, and I frequently wish I could save some of them like IM messages. Finally, after a particularly ridic interaction I had earlier this week, I decided to simply take some screencaps for posterity (last names blacked out, Big Brother-style, though I'm not sure if it really matters as I'm leaving one uncensored that's a fake name. But whatever. Real last names are different seeming to me).
Also, I came across some old artwork of mine from my teenage days, and threw that in too. Good times!
Hee. Um, yeah. Not a lot else to say there. Facebook is a black hole of distraction & debauchery.
Now, onto the artwork. I actually found quite a bit more than this (I was looking through an old, unpacked box & there was a whole folder of stuff from my teenaged days, including poetry from when I was 13-17 as well), but whatevs. A few pics is plenty. I do think I'll share some of the poetry later though, but not now. I gots my fic to write; ain't got no time for lollygaggin'!
It's sixteen year old Rachael! Or a self-portrait of 16 yr old Rachael anyway. And some random crap on the right. I think it says a lot about me, actually. Of course I would've been drawing muslim women in burqas on one hand & then Winnie the Pooh characters on the other. OF COURSE. (for the record: my walls were covered at that age with my musical/tv/various other interests. Carl Sagan, Emily Dickinson, Tori Amos, David Duchovny & Gillian Anderson naked in bed together on the Rolling Stones, a snippet of my best friend's green hair in a plastic bag as an inside joke--it was all up there, and so were the cartoons I drew of Winnie the Pooh. Right below Trent Reznor licking a microphone. Totally fitting, yes? Hee.)
Aforementioned best friend. We met when we were eight & were like sisters until my 17th birthday (literally, the friendship ended over my birthday. She was supposed to meet me to see "Playing By Heart" & never showed, her second no-show in a week; I waited two hours at Pioneer Courthouse Square in January weather before finally leaving to see a later showing by myself. She went missing for a week instead, leaving me frantic, skipping town to Vancouver & then coming back so she could lie for the fifth millionth time about relapsing--which she'd been doing for months, in the midst of my mom going off the deep end simultaneously & my own slow slide into suicidal depression for the first time. I just couldn't deal with it anymore. We fought & then we never spoke again).
As for additional backstory, in case anyone's curious? She began using drugs at twelve & was addicted to heroin by the age of thirteen. By the time she got into rehab that year (for the first time, that is. She went more than once), she'd already damaged the cartilage in her nose from snorting so much. I spent almost every weekend with her until I was 17 (back when the MAX train didn't even come to my part of town, and taking the bus to her place meant a commute of over two hours) & never would've imagined then that she wouldn't be in my life now, drugs or not. Neither of us came from good homes (her dad kidnapped & raped her at the age of four. Her mom still let him come over & cook breakfast. I remember saying hello to him when he'd stop by to pick up her brother for visitation--my friend refused to go). She was one of the only friends I trusted to come over to my apartment, no matter what was happening there. For whatever it's worth now, regardless of what happened between us in the end or wherever she is now, that will always mean something to me.
There'll probably always be a little hole in my heart leftover from that friendship though, honestly. It's just that it's numbed by now. I'm not sure whether that's good or bad. If I think about her, my body feels it, but my mind doesn't. Does that even make sense? Like, my chest/heart hurts, but I don't feel it. It's just like, "well, that's that." Like a shrug. I don't even know.
Anyway. Moving on.
Lastly, this was the self-portrait I drew for a school project at 17. I remember I partially chose the broken mirror concept to avoid having to draw my whole face--laaaazy, ha--but I also intentionally chose it for what it symbolically represented. Says a lot.
Even so, I also remember I chose to *not* make it look exactly like a broken mirror because I thought it was too cliched. I think I've always just been a super contrary person. Haha. That, & I liked blue & red together & was just like, "I'M GONNA GET MY COLOR ON & I DON'T CARE." It's my party, homes, & I'll cry if I want to.
Aiiight, now, back to my fic so I can hammer this baby out. THE DAY IS MINE, TREBEK. (um, sorry, I've been watching a lot of YouTube & Hulu clips this week. . .and, yeah. I'm gonna go away now.)
My Vid of the Day is inspired by the Facebook conversation shared above. Blame
5brokenfingers for my association with this guy, as he's her boyfriend (with whom she is by the way a super cute match, hee. They ride through fields of daisies in rickshaws together--it's a thing). Seriously, when I mention that Portland is a city of weirdos? I'm not kidding. We are all complete & utter freaks.Case in point:
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2010-12-09 03:29 am (UTC)3. Dear Rachael's brain and digestive system, Stop being mean.
5. LOL @ the Facebook convo
Also, I love that Pooh drawing.
Also, THE PENIS MIGHTIER.
(no subject)
Date: 2010-12-09 03:47 am (UTC)Also, I love that Pooh drawing
Aw, thank you! My inner 16 year old is flattered.
Also, THE PENIS MIGHTIER
YOU'RE SITTING ON A GOLD MINE, TREBEK!
(no subject)
Date: 2010-12-09 04:39 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-12-09 07:48 am (UTC)No, really. Hahahahaha. *see icon*
In my defense, he got weird with me tonight in his comments & I was like (in my head), "BOY, YOU DON'T KNOW ME LIKE THAT!" (my actual reply was more like, "go get a rubik's cube, then"--he said he was bored--"You're being creepy." Ha) So Mama had to lay the smackdown. #1. the way to my heart isn't vaguely obscene flirting, and #2. I DON'T WANT TO DATE YOU ANYWAY. Creeper.
Your art work is pretty good! Glad you are eating!
Thanks. :) Bear in mind that artwork is from over ten years ago, but yeah. Heh.
(no subject)
Date: 2010-12-09 05:19 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-12-09 07:55 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-12-09 06:18 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-12-09 07:56 am (UTC)