The Ultimate Vampire Resource and Directory

Take the quiz: "What does your birth month reveal about you?"June: Thinks far with vision. Easily influenced by kindness. Polite and soft-spoken. Having lots of ideas. Sensitive. Active mind. Hesitating, tends to delay. Choosy and always wants the best. Funny and humorous. Loves to joke. Good debating skills. Talkative. Daydreamer. Friendly. Knows how to make friends. Abiding. Able to show character. Easily hurt. Prone to getting colds. Loves to dress up. Easily bored. Fussy. Seldom shows emotions. Takes time to recover when hurt. Brand conscious. Executive. Stubborn.

I noticed that there are several forum posts about and involving Star Wars. I had one on there, in January, and it got closed....I guess I was ahead of my time. I usually am, in one way or another. *smile*

Tonight, I watched Revenge of the Sith, for the 4th time. I realized with this viewing, it puts me in a particular mood....dark, and wanting to go find Anakin...AS Anakin, and reign. *smirk*



I can appreciate the spiritualism of this movie, and the whole saga. So simplistic, and so deep, at the same time. The whole turning over to the dark side for Anakin, being, it seems, a whole series of miscommunication and good intentions gone horribly awry.



It is incredibly sad to me...that he will never find out that he did not kill Padme. His whole life, irrevocably changed, in an instant. And there it remains, in darkness, until his death.



Art imitating life, or the other way around?

http://saleen.com/saleen_s7_photo_gallery.htm



Was looking at a kickass car yesterday, online.







When I was growing up, and in high school, my parents owned two Porsches. One was a 944, and one was a 924. I didn't understand when dad brought home the 924 how they were such a status car. All I knew was that I had long legs, and had to ride in the back, in practically non-existant seats! I soon realized what it meant to have a Porsche.



I even learned how to drive a stick in the 924. I almost went through our fence on a test drive, on the way back from Dairy Queen one night. Dad yelled, "STOP!!", as I am trying to break, barely going through a bit of the fence. *laughing* He was that way. He would just say, "Why don't you drive?", or, "Want to drive?". I suck at curves and stop signs. I don't even think I could drive a stick now.



The 924, was white, with red and blue pin stripping down the sides. It had a gold plaque in it, describing races it had won. There were only 200 of them made. It had a Blaupunkt stereo system in it, that rocked. In the mornings, waiting for my ride to school, I would sit in it, with a screwdriver in the ignition, listening to, "Take on me", by A-Ha. Does that date me?



Anyway, the lil 924 had wrecked in one of it's races and had to be put to pasture, driving us around, to Dairy Queen, and TG&Y. Anyone remember that? Gibsons? *sigh*



The 944 was champagne color. Very pretty. It hadn't won any races, but was fun to stand out the top of, going about 100, while bugs hit me in the face. At that time, I wore glasses. I wonder how many bugs I accidently ingested. Ugh...



I sat in a yellow Ferrari once. My parents thought they were going to buy it. And a Jaguar, that belonged to dad's friends. Why did we have it for awhile?



My dad sold the 924 to his downtrodden, high school friend, Fred. Who knows what happened to it after that. They don't even speak anymore. It should've went to his number 1 teenage daughter. *frown*



Really, my favorite Porsche is the 959. It is one tough, motherfucker. Couse, the 911 Turbo is also a bad---ass.





Once a 911 Turbo drove right in front of our house, in Independence, Kansas. It was a race car, decals and all. *laughing* Well, you just don't see one of those every day.



I will try to get a picture of our cars. Need a scanner.



One of my best moments with these lovely cars, is when my dad and I were at a football game, of my younger brother, Josh. This was when Josh was younger, so it wasn't a big production game, and we were all right around the field, close. The car was parked close. Dad and I were standing by it, when David Davidson walked by it. You all know a David Davidson. He is the one that caters to the snobs, so they will accept him. He criticises the bookworms, the unique, the individuals, the different....the loners. Back then, we weren't GOTHS. I was different, and wore black more than alot of others, and was just a NUTBALL, but the title GOTH hadn't been invented yet.



Anyway, David was cruel. He was cute too, which made it hard to hate him when he was talking to you one on one...which he would do, and would be actually civil. You know the type.



One time David brought me into his cruel game of, "I wanna belong to the prep/snob club!", by saying something about my boobs, in front of all of them. God, it was embaressing. I hated him for that.



So, he walked by, saw the car belonged to "me", and was freaking out....."Nice car!!". I just smiled, and dad said, "Thanks.". Ok, I lead you to a bigger ending. But you had to be there. No, I didn't slice him with my Jedi mind tricks....although in later years, my friends and I called him up and I talked dirty to him, in a synthesized keyboard, southern accent, taunting him, telling him how much I wanted him in me........but, now he is dead. Died last year, or the year before. I went to his funeral. Traveled 4 hours for it......closure. And I saw snobs there, that were from my high school. We didn't speak. I smiled though. I always smile. But then, I'm cool and they suck.........and they are fatter.





Anyway, that is my brush with car fame. *laughing*

Thought I would send it here, instead of to my profile, at least for now.




You're just the happy go-lucky type. You might have
your pet peeves, but other than that, you're
mainly calm. Blending in with your
surroundings, you're the type of person who
everyone likes. Usually it's you who cracks
jokes at social gatherings - after all,
laughter is the best medicine. Sometimes you
pretend to be stupid, but in all actuality, you
could be the next Einstein.



What Type of Soul Do You Have ?
brought to you by Quizilla

I have quit doing tarot readings on starz.com. It has been about a month now. It was taking a toll on me, zapping my energy. I was giving away many free readings every week. Besides some politics on the site, I was bored shitless. Although I did derive much pleasure from helping many, many people over the years. I plan on going elsewhere, though, and will start again. I've already been offered a place to work, on another site. I would have my own room there. Ah...nice.



I did do a reading though for someone on here. It was nice to do it. Hands hurt alittle. That's one of the bad parts. I pay for it. In several ways. I have been asked for another, from a friend online. Need to get with her on that. Keep missing each other! Ha...Actually, it's for her friend.



The other day I was offered a job, in the outer world, working at a flower shop. I used to be a floral designer. Gawd, it's been almost 10 years ago. But I was in there to get supplies for a corsage I was making, and the owner asked if I wanted to come in sometime, that they could always use the help. The ironic thing, is that my old manager/boss worked there part time now. She was not nice to the girls at her shop and traumatized everyone. We all needed therapy after working there! Everyday I would cry about something she said about me, or to me, to try to hurt me, or damage my confidence. I tried to quit several times, but she would ask me to stay on a bit longer....and I did....for about 2 years.



She is not boss now though. Petty woman. Jealous...



I knew I would get an offer for a job that day. It's good to know my intuition isn't gone. *smile*

Mom was supposed to go in and take a stress test, Monday. Surprise, she didn't. She is scared and I don't blame her. But where do we go from here?



A stress test can be done two ways. One is to run on a treadmill. The other, is a drug they inject into you, that will mimic the symptoms of running on a treadmill. It is very scary, and your heart races. People don't seem to dig it much. There was a big negatory on that one.

Not me, but my brother. He just called and told me about how the movie kicks ass. He said there were a few cheesy parts, but that the special effects rocked. And we knew that, yes? Tons of shit happening all over the screen. And that Anakin isn't as bad in this one. Whew...



So he called me as he reached the line. A few people were dressed up he said. I was thinking of braiding my hair like Leia, in Empire, actually, for my Saturday viewing. Yes, sadly, I cannot see it until then...unless I obtain a viewing earlier. But I am waiting for the big screen!



He said that there was a guy wearing a pink shirt, with a black leather skirt in line. I think he was looking for the musical Grease or West Side Story, actually.



Then I got a call IN the theater. Hahaha...



Meanwhile, I was at home, watching all of the Star Wars documentaries, all evening, on A&E, Discovery Channel, and Animal Planet. Yes, Animal Planet. It was good actually. That special was about the creatures of Star Wars. "Come on everybody, jump on board the Star Wars promotional gravy train!". I cried during the A&E special. I am sure I will do it again when I'm in the theater, at the opening music.



So, brother J called again, this time leaving, narrowly missing a clash with a ritzy Jeep of some sort. It's insane! It's crazy! It's not like shooting Wamp Rats! If only she would wait a parsec, and let him in first, as he was there first. She's coming in too fast! And so he had to hang up. I am told I will get another call when he gets home. Low cell battery, though.

I talked to my mom on the phone, the Wednesday before Mother's Day weekend, and she was not feeling well at all. In fact, her heart was racing and she had no energy...that had been going on all day. "I'm coming over!", I said, but had to get my things together and D had to get the car ready for me. I had not slept at all that night, which is typical for me anyway, being a day sleeper. But I normally don't drive 3 hours after a night on being on Rave. ;) The trip was great though, no problems on the way over there. I had an Icee and a variety of loud, bassy beats to keep me groovin'. A trip, is not a trip without music.



So mom has an appointment with a doctor's assistant later that afternoon. They said she needed to either come in, or go to the emergency room...we opted to see the assistant. He was nice, but couldn't really offer much help except to make another appointment, for an ungodly 9:30am the following morning, and check her blood pressure. At least she was stable, but it was high. So, we leave and go to Chili's. We had alot of fun, always laughing and of course, me being a smartass, always finding the smartass way of looking at things. I had to call D to taunt him about us eating out. Ha...But what I didn't know was that he was taking everyone out to pizza back at home.



Night falls....and I'm surely missing Rave. *Sigh*



Next morning comes way too early. It's odd, too, because I am accustomed to being dropped off at the door, at places out. When with mom, I am the dropp'r off'r. ha....After waiting quite awhile, and trying to hold my breath, and close my eyes around insensitive and rude coughers (not covering their mouths), leaning away from them, we finally get in to see the Dr.. Really, I wouldn't call him a Dr.. He pulls his typical shit...asking HER what meds she is on, even though she has been going to him for 10 years. I always research everything to the hilt, so he is alittle threatened by me. I jump in and tell him what she wanted me to remind him about. We always get together on what we need to cover before going in. It's like a somewhat covert mission. "Ok men! Now, we need to know what we can do to lower this blood pressure! Stat! And Combs, don't forget to ask the Dr. about that pesky high blood sugar reading! Ok! Good luck men! May the force be with us! Break!".



After we go into this and that and this again, about what she needs, he just says, "I don't have time to take care of this.". Huh? No time? But we were the only ones there at that time.

I suspected he had some internet porn waiting on him in the other room. So mom and I just looked at each other angrily, and didn't hear much of what he said afterwards. Something about a treadmill test. She won't do it.



As we were leaving, he laughed and asked, "Oh yea, you aren't diabetic are you?". Um, yes, remember??! Ugh.....dick. We couldn't believe his imcompetence. I blurted out a few smartass blarps and left.



When we got back home, I called her insurance company and found another Dr.. A female this time.



That inept Dr. told her she had a kidney/bladder infection, and gave her Cipro for it. She ached all over, and I would massage her neck and shoulders for her. That helped alot, but of course it would come back. Despite the achy feelings, we all had a great time. More showed up for the weekend. It was a great time. Lot's of laughing. It was during the weekend that I started to get sick. *sigh*....We thought it wasn't contagious. Oh yes, it was.



So I left feeling like crap.



She found out from their call on Monday that she did not have a kidney/bladder infection after all. Offered no suggestion of what it was.



I am still recovering from whatever it is I caught. It has morphed into lots of fun filled, and various, miserable symptoms!



And that is why I am MIA on and off, on Rave the last week and a half.



That, and I really have to finish switching my spring/summer clothes out from the winter/fall clothes. *smile*

The Pillsbury doughboy is way too happy considering he has no genitals.

a man friend of mine has brought to my attention that i may be implying that a man is not holding up his end of the deal in this life. no, that is not what i meant. so before i get any nasty remarks, i wanted to announce, that that is simply not what i was/am saying. lordy...this was merely, basically, an ode to women. mature women, that have sacrificed much, unknown to most, except by other women. and here is our brief convo on that:



Xxxxxxx:



"in your journal.....basically Men not holding up there share.....that was all...



Jamie:



"oh, no, thats not what i meant. ha......does it sound that way? hell, i will probably get alot of shit from that. no, it was from someone asking me about why i dont share everything about myself. and i was telling how i wanted to keep some of me, for me. and this was part of the conversation. i should write this there, to explain. for the most part, i think that women know and understand, at least the sensitive ones do, what a man has to deal with. i mean, i do anyway, hearing about it, from many men, since i hang out with them about daily life, job pressures, etc.....etc.......but how many men really understand or even think about the heart of a woman and her sacrifices? not many....because most men, not all, but most, do not ponder deeply about these things. honestly, they would rather not think on these deeper, emotional issues of life, and leave it to a woman. so we carry the burden. see what i mean?"





and the original:



a man may not be able to understand this part, but a woman would....especially a mature one, that has been with someone a very long time, someone like in my position. i mention the reason why i dont go into my personal stats on my page. here i probe a bit further.



when a woman gets married, or joins in with another, she loses herself rather quickly. she is not just daughter, sister anymore, but mom and wife....us, we, her world changes alot. more than the man! even her name is changed! and if you have studied numerology, you would see how the letters in your name reflect who you are, so you are literally changed that way too! handwriting analysists say that if you want to change a part of your personality, change your handwriting. its the same with the numbers.



anyway, women are expected to take care of everyone, putting themselves last. we aren't born with knowing or wanting all of this shit.....society heaps alot on us. so many expectations.....i know men have shit to contend with too, but women have more. we have to keep the shit together behind the scenes.....the teachers, the nurses, the lovers, the negotiators, the cooks, the referees, the cleaners-dishes, windows, toilets, floors, trash cans, dirty pants, beds, shelves......god you name it!, the sender of bday cards, anniverseries, the thank you notes, notes to the mother in laws, future mother in laws, working inside and outside the home, no sleep....we are the comforters, the arrangers of bday parties, arrangers of everything.......we make all the holidays happen, we this, we that...........................................................at the end of all of this......what is left for US? and who is US anymore anyway? oh we used to draw or paint.....we used to be someone. we used to have a personality. we used to be an individual. when did that end? when did we lose ourselves? it happens slowly......quietly. im not alone. if you listen to a group of mature women, you will see and hear more evidence of this. pay attention, and you will see. watch oprah. read the articles.....rent the movies. watch shirley valentine. my mom's battle cry movie. ;) we love our peoples. wouldnt trade all you guys. dont want to stop loving you all. wont stop giving of ourselves. but, dont deny us alittle alone time, or a chance to shine just for who we are.......or were.