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Wednesday, August 20, 2008

Yo Ho Ho and a Bottle of Rum

It sounds pretty silly whenever I say it, but I would love to be a pirate. Historically, piracy was a predominantly male occupation, but there were a few noted females who kicked ass on the high seas. I have no doubt in my mind that if I were a pirate girl a few centuries ago, I would have been on of the most feared and notorious swashbucklers.

I have chosen to ignore the fact that the lifestyle of piracy was unglamorous, and have instead focused on the romanticized version. Who cares if pirates ate poorly, died young, and rarely became crazy wealthy? Imagine the pure freedom of sailing under your own flag, a kindred spirit united with the sea and no one else!

One of the most famous female pirates was Anne Bonny. I have deep admiration for her. In the Bahamas, she met and had an affair with the pirate John "Calico Jack" Rackham. In order to join his crew (according to pirate codes, women were not allowed on board) she disguised herself as a man. She took part in combat and was generally an all-around badass. According to legend, when one of her fellow pirates discovered her gender, she stabbed him in the heart. You go girl.

I rather fancy that I could be just as cool or cooler. Even though I'm not very brave and I don't believe in violence, I like to think that I would be great at pillaging, stealing, looting, tricking, stabbing, shooting, mast-climbing, cutlass-brandishing, sea shanty-singing, and various other "Arrrrrrghhh"-worthy things.

I know it sounds dumb. I really do. I just feel that this is the kind of experience I might have had in a previous life. The mere idea of piracy brings forth thoughts of daring and jubilant adventure. When I watch "Pirates of the Caribbean", I can't help but cheer during the battle scenes and wish that I could be there swashbuckling, instead of just watching a movie on my couch.

Yo ho, haul together
Hoist the colors high
Yo ho, thieves and beggars
Never shall we die...

Sunday, August 17, 2008

"People don't change. For example, I'm gonna keep on repeating 'people don't change.'" - Gregory House

Okay. First of all, I love House. The bitchy, antisocial doctor is a supremely unlikable character, but I adore him anyway. With September drawing near, I'm getting that feeling of excitement in the pit of my stomach. No, it's not lupus. It's season 5 of House!

After the crazy season 4 finale (involving a bus crash, a trip into House's memory, and Cuddy in a slutty schoolgirl outfit) which ended with the death of the beloved Cutthroat Bitch Amber, I'm dying to find out what happens next. I can predict that there will be a huge rift between House and Wilson. After all, if House hadn't been out at Sharrie's getting shitfaced, Amber wouldn't have had to go pick him up, and she never would have been on the bus. Wilson probably has good reason for being pissed at his friend. Fortunately for me, since I can't imagine a rift between House and his only friend, Hugh Laurie has hinted at an uncharacteristically un-House-y reconciliation. Yay!

I'm also rooting for House to finally get it on with Cuddy, as I am a little tired of their unspoken sexual tension. And lastly, I am looking forward to the usual combination of wacky medical cases and jerkishness that is one of my favorite shows.

Friday, August 15, 2008

Feeling Brave

Here are some interesting phobias I found:

  • Hexakosioihexekontahexaphobia - fear of the number 666
  • Pogonophobia - fear of beards
  • Vestiphobia - fear of clothing (... so do they run around naked?)
  • Oneirogmophobia - fear of wet dreams
  • Panophobia - fear of everything (that's quite unfortunate)
  • Alliumphobia - fear of garlic
  • Pentheraphobia - fear of one's mother-in-law
  • Lutraphobia - fear of otters
  • Phagophobia - fear of eating or swallowing (how do they stay alive?)
  • Xanthophobia - fear of the color yellow
  • Hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobia - fear of long words
  • Phobophobia - fear of phobias

Sunday, August 10, 2008

Wednesday, August 6, 2008

Meet Dottie

This is my lovely snake Dottie Spottie, Dottie for short. She lives in my dining room. Isn't she cute?

When I was little, I always wanted a dog or a cat. Something furry and warm to keep me company. (I also used to want a pet unicorn, but that's a different story.) My parents insisted that the responsibility of a fuzzy animal was too much, and they got me a snake as consolation.

My first snake, Spottie Dottie, was black and white: a beautiful combination in corn snakes. I called her Spottie for short. She had been with us less than a year when she began to develop a stomach problem. An eating disorder. Bulimia, if you will. She couldn't hold down her meals, and she died shortly after. That was about ten years ago, but even now I can recall that I was inconsolable.

Thankfully, my Dottie has been with us since I was in elementary school, and should still be alive when I am in college. I love her. Those of you who have a fear or dislike of all things snaky should seriously reconsider. It is a common misconception that snakes are wet and slimy. In fact, their scales are cool and smooth to the touch. Dottie is neither venomous nor aggressive; in her whole life she has nipped me once, and only because she was hungry and impatient for her dinner.

I like to take her out and play with her, just like any other pet owner might. She enjoys crawling around and exploring the world around her. Because she is cold-blooded and gets heat from her surroundings, she likes slithering on people, particularly people with warm necks. It tickles like a bitch, if you are as ticklish as I am, but I let her do it anyway because I adore her so much. She seems to almost have a personality, a playful, childlike curiosity that makes her want to go up my sleeves.

So you've met Dottie. She's very pleased to meet you, too.

Monday, August 4, 2008

Drained, Literally

Today I decided to overcome my slight fear of needles and various other sharp, pokey things and give blood for the first time.

The Blood Centers of the Pacific 10 Reasons to Donate Blood:
  • Blood transfusions save lives.
  • There's no substitute for human blood.
  • Every three seconds, someone needs a blood transfusion.
  • About 60 percent of the population are eligible to donate blood, yet less than five percent do.
  • A pint of blood, separated in to components, can help up to three people.
  • You'll make your community a safer place.
  • Fulfills your desire to "give back" to the community.
  • You'll receive a mini physical (blood pressure, temperature, iron level).
  • You'll learn your blood type.
  • It's safe, simple and it saves lives.
Ironically enough, the part I was most nervous about was the blood-testing part, where they prick your finger and drip your blood in a copper sulfate solution to test your iron content. The idea of someone stabbing a needle into my finger just makes me cringe. It was alright, though. The cool part was after they jabbed the thing in my arm and the blood started flowing. It sounds repulsive, I know, but it was genuinely awesome to see my blood pour into the little bag. And after it's all finished, they give you donuts and juice and various other goodies to help you recuperate.

The best part is, they give you a coupon for one pint of Baskin Robbins ice cream in return for your one pint of donated blood. Delicious.

Sunday, August 3, 2008

The Future Is Unwritten

For part of my high school graduation requirements, I had to take a College and Career class. Seriously, what a waste of my time. I am sixteen years old, and I have NO IDEA what I want to do with my life, if anything. It's preposterous to expect a teenager to have any concrete thoughts of the future. I live in the now. Tomorrow hardly exists to me, its presence just hangs foggily. When I really think about myself ten, twenty, even thirty years from now, I can't picture that stranger. What will my life be like? I can think of several possibilities.

Happily married with children.
Well la-dee-da. I Sincerely hope this is how it will end up, because life seems awfully lonely without someone to be there for you. My husband will be wonderful and extremely handsome. We will have sex on a regular basis, which is probably the cause of our long-standing marriage. The kids will be my pride and joy. Every time I go to a parent-teacher conference, I will hear about how delightful and intelligent my children are. We will raise them well and when we are old and wrinkled, they will take diligent care of us.
Psshhhh. In my dreams.
Happily divorced with children.
If I married some inconsiderate fuck-face because I think I love him, then find out years later (after we've had kids) that he is a lying, cheating bastard, I would kick him out of the house and live my life happily ever after without him. I get to live the single life. I get to see my kids, but I only have to take care of them half the time! Sounds acceptable...
Single mom.
I totally hope this isn't me. Single moms have it tough. It would be even tougher if i was a single teenage mom. A drunken night of partying, and BAM, I'm going to school in maternity clothes. That would suck so much.
Single and free.
Seriously contemplating this. No worries, and no commitment. I like it.

Possible careers?
I highly doubt this is a smart choice, seeing as I am inept at cooking, cleaning, and general housewifery.
I'm leaning towards novels, as opposed to newspaper reporting, because I prefer to make things up. For that very reason, I don't think I would last long at my reporting job. When the article about killer saucepans gets printed on the front page, I'll be fired before you can say... well, before you can say anything.
Oh god. I would not set foot in any building designed by me. That's a disaster waiting to happen.
[See Architect, Above]
This sounds like my ideal lifestyle. You get paid to pretend. Although I would rather act for film, theater is quite respectable, too. I think this is one of the only careers I have honestly considered. Unfortunately, the mathematical probability of my success in this industry are microscopically low.
Such a high paying job! Why does it have to be one that I have no interest in, why?!
FBI Agent
I don't actually want to do this, because I lack the dedication and physical strength required. What I would really like to be able to do is kick in doors with my steel-toed boots, run into the room with my gun pointed, then either yell, "Clear!" if it's empty or arrest the son of a bitch, like they do on TV.

Fuck it. I think I'll just aspire to be a bartender. Or a stripper. Or both.