Color me surprised.

Despite being somewhat startled, I do find it interesting and amusing that there are still things in the world that can blow my mind. I'm a jaded old hag, but evidently there are things that can still sneak up on me and take me aback.

Happy Birthday Mr. Bradbury!

All these years of magnificent storytelling, and he's still going strong.

If the world is lucky, we'll have a few more yarns from the master yet.

My Little Town

I have declined to attend one of my high school reunions. Some people have wondered why. I'm a little baffled to hear that some of the people who were supposedly hoping I would attend were among the large percentage of my schoolmates who had a hand in making me feel completely alienated. I'm certain it's more out of curiosity about how I "turned out" than any desire to rekindle any perceived friendship.

Part of me wanted to go, out of sheer morbid meanness ("Ha! You swelled and I didn't!") but really, I just don't have the energy to bother. I have been thinking about it though, remembering what a shitty time I had in school until 1986, when I moved to Odessa to attend Permian High School. I remember being told by several people on the eve of my departure that I "wouldn't make it" at Permian, that it was a "rich school" and I was too weird to "fit in." These comments were immediately followed with an artificial chorus of "We're going to miss you!" and "Come back and see us!" Worst of all I faced leaving my one real friend (Delia, who remains my oldest and dearest, even after 33 years of putting up with my obnoxiousness).

Well, I didn't make it in the way that those particular classmates would define it; I didn't become a cheerleader or bigwig of any sort, and I wasn't popular with all the "right" people. But, I was actually made very welcome pretty damned quickly. On my first day at Mojo, after wandering around lost past the bell for last period band, I went into a huge band hall where Mr. Nail gave me a good-natured tease ("Good afternoon Miss Elliott! We're so glad we could finally join us!") and introduction to a segment of the band that was larger that my entire class in Eastland by a factor of 5. Then, to my utter mortification, several of the Senior nutjobs in the brass and percussion sections stood and began applauding; the rest of the room soon followed. It sure wasn't because I was some newly come superstar, it was because they were all a bunch of playful, mischievous nuts.

At the time, I wanted to die of course, thinking that the EHS crowd was right. When I joined my section, I quickly figured out that I was wrong. Every one of those guys immediately introduced themselves and made me a welcome part of the infamous Mojo Drum Line. I was "adopted" by a couple of those goofy Senior guys. Everybody was so cool, and just accepted me, weirdness and all.

By my first full weekend in Odessa I was out on the drag with several new friends, and was on my way to making a lot more. I made another really good friend in Nancy, who is only one of two people I will ever describe as a Best Friend. My other new classmates helped keep me from getting lost in the halls, and in no time at all I was familiar with the school and well on my way to assimilating completely into Mighty Mojo. It was great. I was a Band Geek and a Theatre Geek, and easily hung out with several different other groups - the Preps, the "Rockers" (hair band, anyone?), the Brains and even a handful of Kickers. I didn't turn into a female Ferris Bueller by any means, but I was able to blend and be myself, finally. I fit in.

Even when I left for a while to attend Monahans High School (pretty damned cool as well), all my buddies from PHS kept in touch and were ready to hang out whenever I was able to come and hang out for the odd weekend.

The contrast between the two worlds was so stark. I never did make sense of the reasons why things were be so different. I remained a dyed-in-the wool weirdo, was still far from rich, and I didn't have all the right clothes or my own car, but nobody at PHS cared. Why would the two groups of people treat me so differently? It's still a mystery.

So. I have no desire to go to this EHS shindig, though admittedly - there are some people who did manage to end up being really great, and are really cool to hang around, even if weird is still the first adjective they use to describe me. But my other classmates didn't have any interest in me then - why would that change just because two decades have gone by? I don't believe that most of those people who treated me miserably were or are bad, really, and I'm sure that those who were deliberately mean to me then didn't think they were being so. (Well. Maybe. There were some real assholes too, I assure you of that.) I just can't imagine socializing with any of them again.

Being young was hard, and being an outcast at the same time was even harder. Am I bitter about my experiences growing up in Eastland? I guess so, to a certain degree. I'm not sure how I could avoid that particular emotion. Who could? After all this time, though, I think I'm finally getting over it. The proverbial emotional scars (is that cliche or what?) that I suffered in the first sixteen years of my life are faded almost completely away, and I understand at last how little it should have mattered. It still doesn't make me want to go back. I don't feel like I have anything to prove, much less anything in common with those people. To finally put all this down in writing feels like something of an exorcism.

Besides, if I were to go, I'm not sure how I would respond. I'd either manage to take the high road, or I'd get a burr up my ass over something or other and end up delivering a Hi-Ho-Hearty Fuck You. (Probably the latter, knowing me. I will never be able to hold my tongue when it comes to some things.) So I'm going to avoid the hellish heat and stay home, and just do my regular thing. And I don't have to get all dooded up to do it. :-)

My Permian Reunion falls in the first full week of August. I'm so going. I graduated there, and my life changed there. I made some f the best friends I've ever had, and I've managed to keep a damned good lot of them. We're all looking forward to getting together again, and making right asses of ourselves partying and catching up. The seven hour trip (each way) will be more than worth it I'm sure.

I can't wait.

So, fare ye well, classmates of Eastland High School. May life treat you kindly. And my Mojo friends - I'll see you soon.

In Honor of the Eastland High School 20th Reunion...

Human Vexation

Welcome to something of a rant.

**** REDACTED ****

I give up. Que sera, sera and all that bullshit.

Random, naturally.

I've been ignoring my little blog, haven't I? This is probably due to the uptick in actual activity in my life, thus leaving me with less time to sit around and wait for the brain-droppings to fall.

Anything interesting going on? Not necessarily. Just end of school, start of summer, work and other such things. I'm trying to organize the end-ish part of the summer though, and that's been occupying more skull space than I like. But, considering that my 20th high school reunion butts up against my son's birthday and the beginning of school all within a short space of time, I'm afraid that I have to sped the energy. Part of me wishes that I could just fast forward through the hot months and get it all over with. The logical side, however, tells me that I have to buckle down and plan things, and well, that's just a bummer.

Someday I'll learn to be spontaneous and not have to plan every little thing to the last detail before I can relax and enjoy myself. I'd also like to go ahead and lift my butt back up that last inch or so and flatten my stomach a bit, but that's not going to happen without work either. (Death I can accept easily but age I will defy to the end!)

Let's see, what else. Oh. I'm reading multiple books at once, which is another little brain scrambler. I must be slowing down mentally (grrrr) since I find that I have to actually slow down and study the various bits of material I'm digesting. Well, okay. Not the material itself, but the questions that come to mind while I'm covering said material.

I'm currently nursing something of a fixation on the Victorian Era, both the English and American. (Yes, there was something of an American Victorian Era, considering that the heyday of Victoria's reign and the Civil War and Reconstruction fell within the same time period, and admit it - whether we like it or not American culture has always taken many cues from the English... but I digress.)

That being stated, I'm finding myself drawn (again) into the entire 'Culture of Mourning' that was very much prevalent around this time, and which also gave birth to the 'Spiritist' movement on both sides of the pond. Now, strangely, the material I've been covering leads me into the realm of physics for some damned reason, which I'm sure that I'll rant about at another time when my mind doesn't feel like wilted weeds. Still, the link between the two doesn't seem terribly fine, in my opinion, and I'm going to pester David a lot for harder data and cleaner conclusions than I could probably come to on my own. (Sorry Dave.)

But right now, I'm tired, and so I'll sign off for the time being and wait for one of those lovely bursts of inspiration that always come at the most inconvenient times. Until then...

I like being a nerd.

I'm currently eating the last five Oreos in the packet, listening to 'South Park' and finishing Will Storr vs. the Supernatural (Will Storr) and The Diary of Jack the Ripper: The Discovery, The Investigation, The Debate (Shirley Harrison).

The world is a cool place at the moment.

Philosophy of the Month...

What Would Morticia Addams Do?

That is all.

Also - Happy Birthday Trent Reznor. :-)

Dearly Beloved...

In the interest of my sanity I've decided to retreat somewhat from my (admittedly very small) social circle. Being the obsessive type I have a tendency to overthink every tiny thing that hits my radar, and I need to cull the information flow somewhat, lest I drown in pointless contemplations on the uttely insignificant.

To that end I will soon become significantly less social with regard to not only my "online presence" (specifically that Portal to Hell known as Facebook), but any other social outings as well. There's too much to be done and too much that I've fallen behind on, and too much I wish to accomplish; it will be necessary to sequester myself somewhat if I'm to end up where I wish to be.

Finally, there are some stupid but recurring issues that I strongly feel need a swift and conclusive burial, and I will be focusing much mental energy toward accomplishing this. There will be no services, no eulogy, nor even an obituary. It's done and finished, and I'll say no more on the topic. The first shovelfuls of dirt have already been tossed in the hole, so that's that.

I will however, maintain at least a weekly post here, for those of you who care enough to keep in touch. And those of you who do have my email and other contact information, please do not be strangers. I don't wish to alientate, I merely need to clear headspace and regain my zen.

Requiesat en pace...

Happy Easter Everyone!

Enjoy your chocolate!

(Hopefully my few and precious readers manage to perceive this post in the spirit that it's intended - humorous sarcasm. If you are offended, well, I can't help that.)

Of *course* you sillies...

...those fundies don't actually read.