This blog is dead. If you want to know what it once was like, don't bother with the archives, they've been thoroughly picked through. There's probably some internet toy that can pull up a cache'd image of it, and if you care that much, go for it. Otherwise, if you want any of my more recent thoughts, I can be found at my LiveJournal, still sporadic as ever.

Here's my weekend, like I promised...

YouthCons rock! All my apprehensions were for nil, because I was:
1.) not excluded, in fact, I was totally included,
2.) not surrounded by a whole bunch of touchy-feely perverts,
3.) able to participate in everything to the max, despite getting only 1 hour of sleep Saturday morning, and 2 hours Sunday morning,
4.) able to escape “fuffing” (a newcomer or “con-virgin” initiation rite where one has sticky foodstuffs rubbed on one’s stomach and a raspberry blown on it),
5.) not weirded out by the over-religious or –new age worship services (they were actually really cool).

The welcoming atmosphere was pretty apparent from the moment we walked in the door, and remained present throughout the entire Con. There was no harassing, verbal or physical, which is pretty amazing, considering that there were 100+ kids there. There was jibing and wrestling (of sorts), but it was only done because everyone had complete trust in each other; nobody really meant it or took it seriously. And I, for one, did my best to be deserving of that trust.

I met so many individuals this weekend that it’s difficult to wrap my mind around them all. A few of them: Jamie, who has cool hair, cool hats, is a cool guy, and the best Wink partner ever; Megan, who really knows how to “swing”; Kat, who was a free radical with me when people got “groupish” the first day; Charlie, who delivered a ten minute rant in a British accent about rebelling against television; Steve, my fellow evil genius, and so many more… If I could tell you about them all, I would. Needless to say, I felt truly among peers: certifiably insane smart people to whom religion is open to interpretation.

The Con was touchy-feely, yes, but not in a perverted way like I assumed. There were many people just going around and randomly picking people out to hug, people using other people as pillows, people wrestling, and, of course, very early Saturday morning, there was Wink.

Wink is the greatest game I have ever played. The basic setup is like this: There are two circles of people, an inner circle and an outer circle. Each person in the inner circle is paired with someone in the outer circle, except the Winker. The winker sits by him/herself, either in the middle of the circle (if there’s a lot of people, there wasn’t in our game) or on the edge (in which case the two pairs on each side of the Winker are disqualified from play). When the game starts, the Winker points at people in the inner circle. Those people then have to crawl across the circle to try and kiss the Winker (cheek kisses only), and their partner does anything possible to stop them from doing it. Whoever kisses the Winker gets to be the Winker’s partner in the next round, and whoever had been their partner has to be the winker. Everybody who got pointed at, but didn’t kiss the Winker, changes places with their partner.

Sounds dumb, right? Wrong! It is the wildest, wackiest game ever. We played it from 1:00 to 4:00 a.m. on Saturday morning, and the adrenalin rush was so big, it didn’t feel like it at all. I so totally rocked at that game. I only sat out one round, and there was not a partner that could stop me from getting to the Winker until Jamie. However, I now have a massive case of rug burn, and I ache from head to toe. Meh, it was a small price to pay…

Saturday morning I fell asleep to, and woke up to, people arguing about philosophy. I believe they were arguing about universal truth. I thought I actually understood some of it, but when I re-examined my thoughts later, I found they made no sense. Oh, well… maybe I just have to be really, really tired to understand philosophy…

Despite my extremely short “re-energizing period,” I was very much able to enjoy myself the next day. I now have a really ghetto-looking belt made out of duct tape, and know how to play “Mafia” (don’t ask) and “Silent Football” (really don’t ask. I couldn’t explain it to you if I tried). Saturday night was the wildest coffeehouse I have ever attended. I was going to sign up to sing, but decided to scope out the audience instead. Maybe next time… In any case, it was hilarious. Wacky skits out the ears… And next time, I’m definitely singing.

Since it was, after all, a youth group thing, we did have Worship. Except it wasn’t really worship per se, because it was more self-centered than god-centered. Friday night, our Worship involved writing something we wanted to leave behind on a slip of paper and burning it. Then, we shared things that we would like to bring into our lives, and to make it happen, we focused our energy by chanting and weaving in and out of a human spiral. It was extremely mind-bending. Saturday night, we meditated and took a “walk” though an imaginary forest to better ourselves, seek guidance, see our true selves, and find what really makes us happy. It was an enlightening – and somewhat saddening – experience for me. Then we had a “hug train” (or something like that), in which everyone at the Con gave everyone else tow hugs. 240 hugs is a lot of hugs, even for me. But I needed every single one.

I also learned something, Saturday night/Sunday morning. Do not let someone else use you as a pillow, and then fall asleep. They will, somehow, someway, usurp your sleeping bag. Luckily, I had a blanket. So I spent the night sleeping under the water fountain (again, don’t ask, I couldn’t tell you why).

But, all in all, it was a wonderful experience. I made so many new friends, and now share a genuine connection with every single one in this group of people. Ah, why am I even trying to explain? I can’t put that stuff to the right words, really. All I know is, I went, expecting – I don’t know what, really – and I did not come away wanting. I felt at home, among friends, and for the first time in a long time in a long time I felt, you know… Happy…

I have definitely got to go back.

Taking a weekend sabbatical... well, not really... I'm going to Annapolis this weekend, for a youth group conference. Before you start sniggering or gagging, whatever your inclination may be, lemme explain a bit. It should be cool, because these are cool people. People who are, as I like to say, "otherwise minded." Plus, the name of the Con is "The Maltese FallCon" (Get it? Fall, Con?). They're doing a Humphrey Bogart movie marathon one night, and a coffehouse the other night... I dunno if I'm gonna get any sleep at all.

In any case, I'll be back Sunday, though I may not be back on here Sunday night, because I may be sleeping.

I've got the meaning of life in my pocket...

well, see, I don't really have the meaning of life in my pocket, and that's the whole point...

I went for a walk today, and I picked up this leaf, and I suddenly got this feeling, similar to deja-vu, like I was suddenly part of this low-budget drama, and my character had been searching their whole life, trying to find the meaning of it all... and they pick up this leaf, and all the sudden it's all clear... and then the moment ended... and I laughed and laughed and laughed, because it's all so silly...
it's just a leaf...

it may not be the meaning of life, but it's an interesting story...

I want to go home, but I don't. Actually, what I really want is a hug. My mom tore up my bulletein board this morning. Years and years of memories, carefully cut down and arranged into a work of art that fits in a 3 foot by 5 foot rectangle... and just because I didn't have a calendar, and I keep forgetting stuff (the two things are related in her mind, but actually have nothing to do with each other), she decided to rip stuff off it and throw it. She broke three things. My keychain I made in third grade. My porcelain carousel horse that I got in Ocean City, years and years ago. And my "medicine bag" that I made at camp six years ago... Countless other items are scattered about... I could pick them up and begin again, but it'll never be the same...

I guess that's the story of my life... My mom may try to spoil the present, and destroy my past, but I will always have the future to look forward to... If I make it through the present first...

I finally have the argument against her constant complaint, though. She says I'm "sliding" through life, never doing more than the minimum. Not true. I just don't see the need to work my ass to the bone, to be "successful" in life. I'd rather do what I can, but not put myself too far out, and be happy. I'd rather be mediocre and happy than lonely, have my hair fall out, and the best at everything I do. I want to live life, not live work... And if what I want to do with my life is be on the computer, talking to friends and those I care about, and otherwise spend my time writing... I say I should be free to do that. Too bad she doesn't agree with me...

Two more years... Just two more years...

I don't know how she can be so nice to me one minute, and a banshee the next... Even I, with all that I say I'm a volatile person, even I don't change that quickly. And I don't scream at those I profess to love. I don't try to hurt them. Not at this point in my life, anyway... But I don't want to grow up and be like her... Please, god, or whoever else might be listening... Don't let me be like her...

My life is no sitcom, no drama, no comedy, not even a reality show... It's a surrealist's worst nightmare...

I guess Tanya was right about one thing, last night... I want to be one of these Aes Sedai... To be able to just wrap somebody up in air and put them away... that would be so wonderful... That, and they know how to make gateways to take them anywhere, instantly...

I hope your phone's fixed, Dave, because I might have to call you... I'm edging on depression again... I'll make it through to the end of the school day, I think, because I usually do... But I don't know about after that... I'm about to fall through to the dark abyss again... and I'm not sure that I even want to hold on to the edge, anymore...

I take comfort in small things, these days. A soft pillow. A favorite sweater. A jacket that feels like a hug. Those few moments in early morning when everything is silent except for one bird. I surround myself with these comforts, so that at the end of the day, I'll still have something left to take comfort from...

People tend to strip my comforts away, with their harsh words of a harsher reality. If only I could spend all my time in blissful solitude, I'd be happy.

No, that's not true. I could never be a hermit, because I need human contact. But I also need silence and peace, sometimes. If I could surround myself with people that know when and why to be silent, then I'd be happy.

I have a doll's cookbook, somewhere. It's full of menus and elaborate recipies for dedicated little girls to make for their dolls. Every recipie consists of weeds, rocks, grass, dirt, and other things one might find in their backyard, nothing special. But they're no ordinary mud pies, no, only the best for these dolls.

That's what I feel my life is like, now. I'm a little girl, scurrying around with a bucketful of weeds and rocks, putting so much effort into something that it seems no one ever knows exists, except myself. Everthing just seem so futile, right now. I'm trying to make something beautiful out of nothing for these people, but their doll's eyes see nothing, and their painted mouths have no words for me.

One of these days, I'll take all these dolls out for a picnic in the woods, and leave them face-down in the dirt.