No such luck.

Since I’m the eternal optimist, I’m going to say that today’s going to be a nightmare.

I’m not liking this so much.

Ugh!

My dislike comes not from feeling a need to have more gun control laws – I’m a firm believer in the Second Amendment – but rather an intense fear that I’d shoot my own damn foot off.

When I lived in Los Angeles, my father constantly requested that I go to a range and learn how to shoot, and get a gun to have at the apartment. I always told him a baseball bat was just fine – Anyone who thought it was a good idea stupid enough to wake me out of dead sleep was going down with the help of a Louisville Slugger (which I didn’t have either, but the sentiment still stands.)

Anyway, when I saw a news story entitled “EPA Rejects Calls to Ban Lead in Ammo, Fishing Tackle” I nearly peed myself. giggling. I mean, seriously? I respect the need to take good care of our planet, absolutely, and think we can do a much better job of it, but at the same time, I get super annoyed at the environmental activists who go overboard on ridiculous crap. Global Warming aka Climate Change aka Whatever the hell they’re going to call it next is nothing more than a marketing tool for people to make money and is probably my most constant source of irritation, but that’s another story. I tuck it right next to the “I can’t believe people really believe their own ridiculousness” file. Environmental activists (as a general whole) are part of the reason we’re stuck buying foreign oil because we can’t drill much on our own land because they’re so worried about this bird or that animal when with reasonable precautions we could get what we needed without harming any surrounding wildlife. I will venture to say that some of the EA are the same people who bitch because we’re stuck buying foreign oil.

Our dependency on oil is, of course, a whole different argument.

Anyway, the biggest giggle of the whole article was this quote from the EPA which said, “EPA is taking action on many fronts to address sources of lead in our society, such as eliminating childhood exposures to lead. However, EPA was not and is not considering taking action on whether the lead content in hunting ammunition poses an undue threat to wildlife.”

I don’t have the slightest clue who crafted the statement, but I’ll be damned if they don’t have a sense of humor. I mean, of course ammunition is a threat to wildlife. It’s how we catch them in order to eat .

(And, yes, I get that the EA people are worried about animals that are not on the menu dying of lead poisoning, but good lord, I love a quote from someone with a sense of humor, intended or otherwise.)

I do, however, have to give kudos to Michael Fry of the American Bird Conservancy. I don’t know anything about him beyond this article, but he said that the petitioners behind this request waited until “nontoxic alternatives such as steel, copper and alloy became readily available” before submitting their request. That shows that at least he’s reasonable in his request. He says, “We’re not trying to ban handgun ammunition. This is strictly a toxicity issue, with lead poisoning wildlife.”

If only more people were this even-handed and fair and non-dictatorial in their requests instead of demanding the whole thing be done away with. More EAs could take a page from his book.

I’ve stayed true to that for many, many years, with one exception:

About every six months or so I hit my stress level, cave in, and chew my nails down to nubs.

I think it’s safe to say I’ve hit that point. I’ll gnaw on them for a week or two then let them grow back.

Not sure why I’m stressed out at the moment – nothing really going on to be stressed out about.

It’s like clockwork, the six month thing. Doesn’t matter what’s going on (or what isn’t, as the case may be.)

At least I’m consistent about something.

That chance was yesterday. A friend of mine and I met at the theatre and sat through 4 hours of movie. Thankfully, they included the intermission ’cause by the time it rolled around, I had to pee. Then I had to wait because there was a line a mile long for the woman’s bathroom.

What is it with women’s bathrooms and long lines? Seriously, I never see a line of people for the men’s bathrooms.

It’s the South’s story as much as it is Scarlett’s and Rhett’s story. Tortured existence doesn’t even begin to cover it. The South’s forcible transition from the old ways to the new, Scarlett’s and Rhett’s inability to accept their love for each other. In some ways, the two stories are parallel in their respective downfalls.

And gawd, if Clark Gable was any sexier… *sigh*

At one point in the movie I thought to myself that GWTW would be a perfect movie to have a cult following like Rocky Horror. The audience could all get dressed up and bring props to toss around in the theatre: a cap gun for when Scarlett shoots the Yankee pilferer or maybe a water gun and two pieces of wood to knock together for when she, Prissy, Melanie, and baby Beau are hiding beneath the wooden bridge during a rain storm while horse-riding soliders clop their way across the bridge. Shots for every time Scarlett uses “fiddle-dee-dee” or another Southern saying.

Mixing my games, I suppose, but good Lord, everyone would be drunk before the first 30 minutes were up.

The only thing I can’t figure out is what to do for the hospital / medical scenes. Obviously bringing body parts to a theatre would be in bad form. Maybe a saw for the amputation of the soldier’s leg sans medicine. Or Ken dolls dressed in Confederate outfits…

Er… I think we can chalk this up to very bad ideas, indeed.

It didn’t ring a bell, so I looked it up on Wikipedia.

Is it bad that I’ve got the hots for a man who’s been dead for 9,300 years, is missing skeletal parts, and who looks remarkably like Patrick Stewart?

But my absolute favorite is The Picture of Dorian Gray.

What’s not to love about a book that incorporates a deal with the devil, suicide, murder, the degradation of a soul, and the constant struggle between denial and indulgence?

In celebration of Just for the fun of it, here are some of my favorite Oscar Wilde quotes:

1. Man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask, and he will tell you the truth.
2. The aim of life is self-development. To realize one’s nature perfectly – that is what each of us is here for.
3. We teach people how to remember, we never teach them how to grow.
4. I can resist anything but temptation.
5. The truth is rarely pure and never simple.
6. There is no such thing as a moral or an immoral book. Books are well written or badly written.
7. But what is the difference between literature and journalism?
…Journalism is unreadable and literature is not read. That is all.
8. One can always be kind to people about whom one cares nothing.
9. The advantage of the emotions is that they lead us astray, and the advantage of science is that it is not emotional.
10. The only thing to do with good advice is pass it on. It is never any use to oneself.

Seriously, I love the fact that I got to spend a year in Scotland for Grad School. And I’m deliriously happy that I got my Masters, but the piper is calling for his due to be paid.

Which means I’m starting to clean house, and that includes going through my collectibles.

I just went through my Pepe Le Pew collection and while I’m not getting rid of all of it, I am putting about half of my collection up for sale.

If you’re interested or know someone who is, please send them to my eCrater store.

There will eventually be more than Pepe Le Pew stuff added as I find the time to sort through my things.

And of course, check out this post for my Anglican Prayer Beads stores list.

Thank you.

If it makes you feel any better, it’ll be stuck in mine, too.

Anyway, with all this chaos surrounding my love life, or lack of it as the case may be, I was thinking this morning about some of the incredibly dumb things I’ve done to get someone’s attention.

Two things first:

1. There really is no chaos, but I’m apparently determined to act like a petulant child at the moment because I’m not getting what I want, when I want it.

Patience? What’s that?

2. I’m an attention whore. No joke. I like to pretend I don’t like being the center of attention, but the fact of the matter is that I thrive on it. I’ve always sworn that I’m not high maintenance – it really takes very little to keep me happy. And one of the reasons I’ve downplayed my need for attention is that I feel that it makes me high maintenance. And needy.

But we all have our issues.

Right?

Ahem…

So, anyway, this morning I was thinking about a certain someone who shall remain nameless. We’ll call him “Rockstar.” Rockstar used to play with a well-known 80s musician who we’ll just call “80s musician.” If I give his name away, then the identity of Rockstar will be revealed and I’m not inclined to give that particular info up.

I met Rockstar back in 1999 at a show I went to with a friend of mine. Took pics. Rubbed his bald head. Probably scared him.

I tend to have that effect on people.

Long story short, I tracked him down and we began an email correspondence. I spent months flirting and being silly and throwing out random questions just for the hell of it. It got to the point where I knew he’d know who I was if he saw me, but wanted to cement it.

Shortly after we met, I moved to Atlanta to work on my BA and they played a show right after the semester started. Knowing about this months in advance, I made my plans.

I’ve always thought it was funny to hold up signs at a concert. I’d never done so before, but I was excited about life and embarking on a new adventure with school, and tried to come up with something eye-catching. After much thought I came up with

“Rockstar Sucks!”

Brilliant, I know.

We’d been exchanging emails for months and I was fairly sure he’d get the joke. It was a play on a slogan for another band he played with at the time. I had a great time buying sharpies and poster board and creating the sign. Giggled the entire time. Thoroughly enjoyed the anticipation of waiting for the date of the show to arrive.

It was fantastic!

I was so caught up in the exhilaration of it all, I never stopped to think about the one fatal flaw with my plan:

That 80s Musician, as well as the rest of the band, would see the sign, too.

So, September rolls around. I’d gotten settled into the swing of college and was looking forward to a night out to decompress a bit. I spent the usual amount of time sitting through the opening band, making friends with the people sitting in front of me and generally loving the build of anticipation that I get right before a show starts.

I love that feeling!

Just as the wait was beginning to feel unbearable, the lights dimmed and out everyone came. The scene couldn’t have been set more perfectly: I was in the second row, so he’d be sure to see me. I was on his side of the stage. I had my sign folded up in quarters and all ready to go when the time was right.

First song came and went and the sign stayed clutched in my hands.

(No sense in jumping the gun.)

Second song came and went and the sign stayed clutched in my hands.

(Had to let them get settled into the show.)

Third song came on and about halfway through, I opened the sign and held it up for Rockstar to see.

He saw it and kept playing. It was sort of hard to gauge his reaction cause he was wearing sunglasses. But it didn’t seem to be a big deal.

Then 80s Musician saw it, and I swear to all that I hold dear, there was this split second where it was obvious he considered stopping playing his guitar – it was written ALL over his face – before he moved away and kept playing.

This was followed by my own split-second reaction of “Oh, shit!” coupled with that jolt I get in my stomach when I realized I’ve just done something incredibly stupid, before I put the sign down and settled in to enjoy the rest of the show.

I emailed Rockstar the next day acknowledging that 80s Musician had seen it, and apologized if I’d created any hassled. Turns out he got ribbing from both 80s Musician AND the rest of the band.

(cue crickets)

I felt bad about that. And I didn’t find it quite as amusing as I did initially.

Though looking back on it nearly 11 years later, it does make me giggle.

Because that is only the beginning of all the incredibly ill-thought-out things I did trying to get and keep his attention.

And, yes, I know.

The word “dumbass” probably applies to most of it.

Welcome to my world.

I’m still selling Anglican Prayer Beads.

Etsy

Zibbet

Artfire

Come check them out. Buy something if it catches your eye. Send me a request for a special order.

Please spread the word. I’ve got bills to pay.

Something else extra special coming soon.

It’s annoying.

But what’s even more annoying is the fact that you’ve worked really hard to just let it be what it is because you know you’re not really upset about what you feel upset about and you have dreams about it because that’s what your subconscious is focused on.

Just sayin’.