We are an Event Photography service. Our photos of celebrities run in publications all over the world. Feel free to contact us at 917 445 1798.

Monday, February 28, 2005

Chemical warfare

I suspect that I may have poisoned myself. I chilled out on the rubbing alcohol and I started to feel better. The lesson is that yes, it may be true that 70% isopropyl is actually toxic. The results were impressive though. Maybe I should switch to vodka as a disinfectant for my sinuses.

Sunday, February 27, 2005


Originally uploaded by tanalee.
This is a camera I've been pretty excited about lately. The sweet Pentax spotmatic. It was made in the seventies and the optics on the lenses are first rate.

antibacterial mighty mite

antibacterial mighty mite
Originally uploaded by tanalee.
This guy could figure out how to solve my problem.

Weapons of mass destruction

In an attempt to end this bout of sinusitis, I have proceeded to stick every caustic liquid I could find up my nose (except bleach). The magic liquid turned out to be rubbing alcohol. It's kind of minty. I rack my brain trying to find liquids that will kill my pathogenic sinus bacteria and hopefully not kill me. How about:

lemon juice
witch hazel

I want stuff with radical temperatures and bizarre ph's. I've been mixing up my colloidal silver super strong. Hope it doesn't turn me gray. It would be pretty exciting if one day I could actually not have a sinus infection.

Saturday, February 26, 2005

Will you love me if I'm beautiful?

Plastic Surgery sort of fascinates me. Women are attracted to it for obvious reasons. Daughters aren't generally favored by their mothers. Mothers (like anyone else) can be fearful and they can instill that fear into their daughters. If you're pretty, a man will want to take care of you.

This woman was on Doctor 90210. She was about 65 and she kept holding up a picture of herself that was taken in the 60s. "This is what I'm going to look like" [after a chemical peel]. Everyone's telling her how great she's going to look. She was saying that she wanted to be a trophy wife.

The alpha female in our culture is the model: A tall woman who can't eat. I wonder when our culture will move past plastic surgery to the next barbaric practice. There was foot binding and corsets. Now we have mass female starvation. No more corsets but your ribs are supposed to stick out. It is strange that women still see empowerment in weakness and frailty. This is beauty. Women do it for "love".

Friday, February 25, 2005

What one is . . .

I have chronic sinusitis which cannot be treated with antibiotics. They just don't work anymore. I had been handling the condition with colloidal silver but I caught a virus. The virus led to another fairly serious inflammation of my sinuses. Breathing was a major problem yesterday but I found some steroid drops that are helping. My head hurts too much too think. It is difficult to deal with the fact that you can't go outside (of the house) without suffering consequences. I thought I was doing well enough to go to the city.

It seems that people are supposed to come into their own: to be themselves to the fullest. What if you're physically sick? What if you're just a jerk? What if you're crazy?

I feel like I could do so much if I didn't have to exert such energy trying to feel physically okay. Frida Kahlo was in pain and had to stay in bed. Mozart worked himself to death--or he had some illness so he died in his thirties. Beethoven went deaf.

When I was a kid I was a lot more functional physically. I got sick once or twice a year and I could handle dealing with people. Now I'm much more fragile and sensitive. I feel that I was made to be a creative person but creativity isn't really happening these days.

Thursday, February 24, 2005


I woke up today with a major case of sinusitis. The pain is intense. I'm trying to do anything to get out of this situation.

Wednesday, February 23, 2005


Going through a rough patch. Woke up with one eye almost shut from an allergic reaction and I still have the flu. The lederhosen arrived and I made some suspenders to go with them. Wish I had something meaningful to say but I'm just waiting for this rough period to end.

Bad luck spree

My Dachshund has not been acting himself and he fell down the stairs. He seems to be all in one piece. I still have a virus which is keeping me up. I'm also writing this through uncomfortable swollen eyes from some sort of allergic reaction. The heat's been out in the house for several days also.

Monday, February 21, 2005

Ripped Off

When I was getting upset about my aunt I started coughing and that led to a virus. Been trying to rest so I read Stephen King's "On Writing". It was extremely challenging. Code for: it made me feel really insecure. He said you have to read and write a lot. I suppose 'a lot' can be subjective. Stephen King is one of the more prolific writers. He seemed to be saying that he didn't do enough. It can be quite a syndrome. Let's call it 'notenoughitis".

I bid on this sweet little pentax on ebay. It arrived totally broken. Though the auction seller didn't say that it worked, he certainly implied it. "It was my grandmother's, so I know it was taken care of."

Someone wrote to him: "Does this camera work?"

He responded: "My grandmother says it works."

I took my chances and it is broken in every spot a pentax can possibly be broken. So what? I can't help but blame myself. The signs were there but I thought it was a good risk.

Sunday, February 20, 2005


I learned tonight that a beloved aunt has cancer. I woke up in the middle of the night crying. Other problems appear trivial when someone special to you is suffering.

I finally added to my Narcissist script. My research for the script brought me to a lot of websites discussing religion. Some sites are by believers. Some view religion as a crutch. They say faith is something to be there in times of trauma: birth, weddings, death. Not sleeping isn't going to help her so I've got to try to keep it together.

Friday, February 18, 2005

Casting at VH1

Casting at VH1
Originally uploaded by tanalee.

I was the first one voted off the island

So I was checking out craigslist. VH1 is casting a new reality show tentatively called "mind games". Thought I'd check it out. This "interview" was the hate jamboree to top them all.

This spunky little turd (James Ronald Whitney) comes out and introduces himself: "We're starting a new show. It's based on my movies "Games People Play". The posters on the wall (of his movies) show all these naked/half naked people.

"This is going to be the most uninhibited game ever! You see, just imagine the show punked! Except in this you're doing the prank. For example you answer the door in a towel and the towel falls. Because this is tv, the nudity has to be blocked out. If it was a movie, you'd see it all!"

(His excitement rises with each mention of nudity as he looks at the girls.)

"Imagine, the pizza guy comes, one of you girls shows up in a towel and the towel falls down. On tv-- "


"you can't show anything but the audience knows. The whole thing's going on with you naked."

"Now my stuff's smart. There are like three whole levels. People will have to watch this over and over and you know how often VH1 reruns things. Look, this is really intelligent stuff. Roger Ebert gave me thumbs up. So I get great reviews. Every media outlet in the country's going to be all over this because this is the most outrageous game ever! You will be famous, recognized on the street. You'll have casting directors all over you. In the show, you'll compete with each other to see who can carry off the scenario best. People will be manipulative. They'll try to screw with your head."

He tells the guys to line up: "Take off your shirts." Then he turns to the ladies: "You won't have to take your shirts off -- today."

He addresses everybody.

"Who thinks they'd win this competition?!" Most of the people desperately raise their hands.

Then the girls, including me, line up. He points to one girl, "Show me your abs!"

She stammers, "I can eat whatever I want."

He points to me, "What's special about you?"

I flounder, "I can write."

He mocks under his breath, "Yeah, I'll call you when I need a writer. You're dismissed."

So I walk away, stunned at this camp.

He zeroes in on a tall black girl: "What makes you special?"

"Uhh, uh, I, Uh."

"Don't worry, I think you're special."

She was thin and maybe 6'2".

He points to a short blond girl. "You look heavy. Are you tight under there?

She nods eagerly.

"Totally comfortable nude? No cellulite? Are you sure? Because I'm going to see. Why should I pick you?"

She stammers, then spits out: "Because I'll do anything!"

I was still standing there in a corner of the room and he turned to me, "I dismissed you. What are you doing here?"

"I . . . was watching."

"That's not allowed. You're dismissed!"

So I left.

When I stepped onto the city street I had a queesy feeling in my stomach, the kind that I get when I encounter someone who is really toxic. I thanked heaven to be out of there. I even thanked him for getting me out of there. I was too fascinated by the creepiness to leave of my own volition. I absolutely couldn't look away. Welcome to your television programming of the present moment.

Thursday, February 17, 2005

Unsolicited Advice

This guy (who I don't know) wrote to me to tell me that someone told him not to put so many "I"s and "me"s in his writing. So he thinks that I shouldn't do that in my blog.

I found this extremely annoying. He wrote that my blog would be better if it was written in the third person. Okay. I emailed him back: "thanks for passing your editor's advice to me". Now that was me being passive aggressive.

My first thought was to explain to him that my blog--for better or worse--is a journal/diary. As such it would be highly perposterous for it to be written in the third person:

"The Tanster, disheartened at her inability to continue her script, decided to log onto the free section of craigslist. Much to her dismay, there was nothing worth grubbing at that time."

This guy reminded me of the time my psychologist diagnosed me as a narcissist. (I know, can you believe it?!!!) Then I looked around and came to believe that EVERYBODY is a narcissist.

I hope you didn't bookmark my blog whoever you are.:)

Wednesday, February 16, 2005

Passive Aggressive little freak

Originally uploaded by tanalee.

My Dachshund's a total bully

While I'm here trying to figure out what to write in my stupid script, my dachshund Heathcliffe makes his little whining noises. He circles me left to right and he looks me directly in the eye. Then he looks off into the distance with desperation in his eyes. His passive aggressive attacks wear me down everyday. I tell him to "go on!" He comes right back. He shivers. I try to pet him. He shakes and puts his tail between his legs.

He's "terrified" of me so much that he won't accept me petting him. But if he's so terrified of me why won't he give me a break when I tell him to scram? Is he scared or is he bullying me? He wants his food. If he gets it at 4 p.m., he wants it at 2 p.m. If he gets it at 2 p.m. He wants it midday.

If I put him in the basement he'll keep scratching to get out. I can't even get him down there because he'll run under the bed where I can't reach him.

You'd think the little space heater would make him want to bask his little wienie body in front of it. He just keeps staring at me. If dachshunds ruled the world, they'd be so fat. Their little victim whining would fill the night with madness.


Originally uploaded by tanalee.
This was the moon last night.

Monday, February 14, 2005

The Tanster is Stuck

The Tanster is Stuck
Originally uploaded by tanalee.

Sullen Tanster

I don't know if what I have is writer's block. I got up to a point in my script, page 33. My characters are established, their world is established etc. Galilea is a pushy narcissist, Zack her boyfriend is haunted by his game box. Galilea was once a teen pop star. Now she can't deal with the fact that no one is interested in her, most importantly her father. She's trying to make a great short so the world will finally recognize her "genius".

I have a fairly strict view of narcissists. (Both of my parents are narcissists.) They are:

lacking in empathy

Anyway, that's the very short list. There are certain areas where narcissists thrive:


Again, a rather short list. I could go on forever about the nature of narcissist behavior. I always felt that if I could understand that kind of heartlessness, I'd understand why my parents were so heartless towards me.

So this is rather tender subject about which I am very emotional.

Where I left off in the script, Galilea feels that her short has "bad karma". I imagine that I'd like to see her initiate various religious rituals. Example: she builts an ancestor worship shrine, she meditates in buddhist robes, she lights a candle at a Catholic church and takes communion, she goes into a field to pick a four leaf clover. Anything. The object is to show that Galilea wants the world to bend to her will. In this way religion can be manipulative and deceiving. I want to show the hypocrisy of some religious sentiment through her.

I've been looking at religion, ritual, karma anything like that on google. I am not adverse to spirituality at all. I'm adverse to bullshit. I do understand that this subject is sensitive. On the net, one woman described her spiritual transformation, more or less like this:

I grew up brahmin caste in India. We worshipped many gods . . . one day I became a Christian . . . I prayed to go to college, He answered my prayers. I prayed to get a husband, he answered my prayers.

So on and so forth. I'm pretty familiar with the fundamentalist Christian outlook. It's not all bad but I felt stifled by it. There are those that see "God" as the divine goodie giver. "I wanted a Lexus and he answered my prayers. Praise the Lord!"

I was at church and a lady praised the Lord for the parking space that she got in front of TJ Maxx. The Lord knew what a rough day she'd had.

This sort of thinking is suspect. And dare I say it? It's a bit narcissistic.

I want to express this aspect of human behavior in a funny way without being more offensive than I have to. I don't have an axe to grind with religion. My problem is with human behavior.

Day after day passes and I can't get how to express this narcissistic hypocrisy of religion. Then I tell myself I'm striving for too much. If I can refrain from impatience maybe I should hang in there until I get how to say what I'm trying to.

Sunday, February 13, 2005


Originally uploaded by tanalee.

Dresden Calling

I think Valentine's Day is depressing. Even when I was a little kid it seemed hard to feel good about it. Does somebody like me? When I was fifteen a boy wrote me a sweet poem so that was nice.

I feel an affinity for Dresden, Germany. I can't think about the WWII destruction of Dresden without crying hot tears. It's not rational, just emotional. Curiosity is what led me to spend a month in Germany. I wanted to know why I was preoccupied with the destruction of a town I had never seen.

Anyway, I went there, was pretty upset most of the time. The bombing started February 13th (1945). It happened at night. The next day the Allies bombed it again until the entire center of the city caught on fire. So, I still don't like Valentine's Day.

Bipolar and grubbing

My inability to write my script continues. Late last night, a lady of freecycle offered an Epson printer. I got all excited and asked her if I could have it. Much to my surprise she said okay so I've been working pretty hard to get a six year old printer functional. BTW, the grubby guy from Shirley that I mentioned before: He's upgraded his WANT for a slr camera to a NEED. Does that make sense? The post long ago was:

with at least one lens please.
keep on freecyclin'
we exchange smiles here



Oh, how it never fails to get on my nerves! . . . Dammit, I'm the one who NEEDS that slr with a lens! Who knows what that thing could be?! Also BTW that guy never leaves his computer so I can't imagine what he needs that camera so badly for! Explain this to me!

My hypocrisy aside. I've got to do something while I'm not writing my script. So I layed into the editor to add some music to Griffith Gaunt (my movie in post production). But guess what? He's all bipolar today. Always refreshing. I can write anything I want about him because he'll NEVER READ THIS BLOG. So anything you'd like to say about him, please forward it to me and I'll publish it here.

Anyway, apparently it's my fault that he has to pay taxes this year. I'm exaggerating but when someone bipolar is down it's always something YOU SAID that caused it. Wish me luck.

Saturday, February 12, 2005

The possible face of my shadow self

You see? This is hard to take!

Attention Whore

As I continue to struggle with my script and my continual inability to focus, a name came to mind: Sarah Hudson. I wouldn't be surprised if you haven't heard of her. She's one of those super well connected LA people who feel its their turn to be a super star.

Six months ago, I happened to be watching a morning news show that highlights up and coming musicians. I get one look at her broad, needy, wanty face and I know that I DON'T like her. She proceeds to perform in that angsty faux punk style that I would associate with Ashlee Simpson. Sarah Hudson grinds into her hot male guitarist. She rolls around on the stage. To me, someone with real talent doesn't have to try so hard.

I've been really liking Project Runway on Bravo. A few weeks ago, there she is once more with that smug, wanty-needy vibe of hers. The budding fashion designers had to come up with some special outfit for her. I was pretty jealous. It definitely irritates me that attention is handed down in a heritary fashion. Her father's somebody so all these talented people have to kiss her ass.

Today, I'm trying to crack open my character Galilea. What is she? I ask myself. She is born into one of these media elite families. She's neither talented nor untalented. She's a hack and an attention whore like Sarah Hudson.

I felt researching Sarah Hudson was going to get me closer to understand what must be done with Galilea. So I'm doing my thing, clicking on pictures of that smug, wanty-needy face and I'm HATING her. It was beyond.

Many posts back I remarked that if you are repulsed by something it is probably part of your shadow self. I accept that. I hate Sarah Hudson because I'm a closet attention whore.

Thursday, February 10, 2005


I'm in the throes of another challenge in my script. Galilea, the hack, feels that her short has bad karma. She wants to clear the energy so she embarks on every religious ritual she can find. Again, it's hard to make this funny. I've been looking up "good luck", "karma", "feng shui". Invariably these sites and concepts raise my ire.

Throw salt over your shoulder.

Knock on wood.

Rub your "crystal".

Don't sleep across from the door.

So I'm looking at this ad for Tiffany and Co. I hate those ads. Anything with: "If he loves you he'll buy you this." "Every kiss begins with . . ." It turns my stomach.

In the ad, the beautiful young woman looks ahead like a child in ecstasy. She wears tasteful diamond earrings, ring and bracelet. The man who presumably gave her these beautiful objects gazes at her with adoration.

The message: If someone loved you like this guy loves her he'd give you the same stuff.

So I'm imagining the stay at home lady. She needs proof of his love, validation. She pressures the man in her life to produce. "I want the little blue box. Give me something from Tiffany's. I love Tiffany's. Oooh, pleeeeease."

He goes out. He buys the jewelry. He puts it on her. She adores it. She adores him for giving it to her. This ceremony works because she believes in it. This is our culture's rite of the religion of romantic love. It's real and as valid as any superstition any culture has ever created. It's also as ugly and as fake. (I believe it comes from fear.) It's a testament to the human inability to think and feel and believe in invisible things. It's not real unless you light a candle and hold an amulet in your hand. It's impossible to get people to stop worshipping false idols.

How do you make that funny?

Pet Monkey

There's another thing that I'd like to get my hands on. While I'm perusing the free column on craigslist, I find that sometimes people are getting rid of their pet monkeys. I desire my own monkey. It's something about me and the monkey sitting on the couch watching television together. I can just imagine him eating popcorn out of his bowl while we watch American Idol. For better or worse, I have to live with this longing (for a monkey).

I have a friend who has a blog on this site: loray.blogspot.com

I did something very wrong.

From time to time, he seems to want to get together. He lives an hour and a half from me in Valley Stream, LI. It just so happened that I was going to be in his neighborhood tomorrow. I asked him if he wanted to accompany me on an errand.

He answered: "I got into a 30 minute argument with my father about walking to the library." So he ended up not going to the library. Obviously, he can't see me either. My friend is 25 I think.

Everytime someone offers a monkey on craigslist, I do the same thing. I go to google and type in: pet monkey. Site after site cautions you very strongly. "Monkeys are cute when they're babies but when they reach sexual maturity they can become dangerous to you." The sites explain that once monkeys reach sexual maturity, they are so dangerous that you have to leave them in a cage for the rest of their lives.

This is when I back off and forget about taking in a pet monkey.

John really needs help. He needs medication and treatment that he'll never get as long as he's in the situation he's in. The entire time I've known him he has been his father's pet monkey. If John were a monkey I could contact the authorities about animal abuse. (Except I think it's okay to forbid a monkey from going to the library.) If John were a kid, I could call child protective services. As it is, he is a monkey in a cage until his father dies. When his father is gone, he won't know how to live in the wild. He wasn't allowed to socialize with the other primates. No one ever taught him how to gather food or find shelter.

I know people entrap their offspring because they're afraid of abandonment. Anyway, I didn't mean any harm to John. It just makes you feel helpless when your friend is suffering and crumbling in Valley Stream. He's been suffering terribly the entire time I've know him. He's the object of his father's toxic love.

I wonder if John and his Father sit together on the couch and watch American Idol together.

Wednesday, February 09, 2005


I've always wanted a pair. I spent a month in Bavaria two years ago and I spoke of my desire to wear lederhosen. The response was usually tiny little German giggles: Then a glimmer of pity that would settle into an expression of: "what's wrong with this girl?"

I have been searching for the perfect pair: something black and bad ass. I gave up shorts years ago because I found them puerile. Now I can't decide? Should I get the breeches or the shorts?

I read the stories on ebay: "These used to be my Dad's. They're worn and stained in the butt."

Never have I pursued a garment primarily worn by old men. I can just imagine the stein collections these dudes must have. The massive beer guts. And I'm trying to grub their old shorts off ebay.

I have a good reason, mind you. I'm going to play one of the Narcissists in the movie when the script is finished. So voila, finally, a good excuse to get the lederhosen I've always so dearly wanted. A narcissist would wear the clothes of a German boy in the 30s. It makes perfect sense.

Shorts or breeches, I just can't decide.

Tuesday, February 08, 2005


I spent two days transcribing my script The Narcissist. Now it's in the computer at 33 pages. I felt like I had to put it in Word so I'd know when to stop writing. A script is about 90 pages, a minute per page on screen.

This is where I'm at:

Galilea wants to do her short to impress her father. She's not really getting anywhere with it. She is a former teen idol who had one hit song in the 80s.

Zack is haunted by his game box and he rarely speaks.

33 Pages in, the characters are well established, the drama is set in motion. I don't know what to do.

Zack has reunited with Master Tim to solve the terrible game box problem. Help!


Originally uploaded by tanalee.
I took this picture today of two of my fish. The one on top is E.C. for Elvis Costello. (The Singer has a lot of songs about being a clown).

That's stripey swimming underneath. He's named after my first Four Striped Damsel who I lost in the middle of one sad night. Little Stevie Wonder (a Panda Puffer) ate him.

Little Stevie Wonder

Little Stevie Wonder
Originally uploaded by tanalee.
This painting is my memorial to little Stevie Wonder. I lost him about two years ago to complications resulting from ich.

Monday, February 07, 2005

Is it my destiny to draw/paint/photograph men nude?

Idiot that I am I will not stop cruising craigslist. Naked yoda (which closed last night $63 something) was all about the bizarre male desire to strip for me. I'm strapped financially. A fellow is willing to barter his piano tuning services. My piano sounds okay but it could sound a little better. I offered him my photographic skills. He wasn't too interested until the idea of posing nude for me popped into his head.

Now mind you, there was no peer pressure, nobody said "hey all the guys on craigslist are trying to get nude for Tana, why not me too?"

He came up with this on his own. The legend of naked Yoda lives on.

Sunday, February 06, 2005


Originally uploaded by tanalee.
This is a photo of which I am particularly fond. I'm not sure whether I should have centered it in photoshop. Any thoughts?

Saturday, February 05, 2005

Self Absorption

I resisted starting a blog for a while because I thought they were narcissistic. Yesterday I was reading a blog called "The barely attentive mother". This lady was defending the importance and meaning of her life. ("I am the woman behind the man.") Talking about what an amazing student she was in high school and college. She wrote of how disturbing visiting Manhattan was. She went on for four paragraphs about "The Incredibles". ("If you haven't seen it then stop reading here please.") I stopped reading it right there.
Then I read a subject that really made her angry:
An article in the NY Times stated that "mommie blogs" reveled in self absorption and that these women were actually hurting their kids somehow. This woman was fuming. She was issuing a call to arms so the other mommies would bombard the NY Times with email or letters or any sort of anti-validation.
The only reason I continued to read her blog to that point was because she was reveling in self absorption. It irritated/amused me. She claimed to be a Highly Sensitive Person. (That's how I stumbled on the site.) If she's so sensitive doesn't she know how full of it she is?
Anyway, I don't know how to write an interesting blog to anyone else. We're all utterly fascinated with ourselves and somewhat amused (or horrified) by the actions of others. Whatever.

Friday, February 04, 2005


I finally continued writing my script. Skroda really helped me figure out what to do. Meaning: I got out of the pupil/master interaction which occurred in a day dream. Later I'd like the Hero to meditate, look inside himself where he will meet naked claymation Skroda. In that context, I'll put the malevolent behavior of the Hero's mother that caused the splitting.

I discovered something rather large. There's a name for what I've got. This type is called HSP: highly sensitive person. I'm very porous, much like Spongebob Squarepants. I can't handle negative energy and it leads to me spending A LOT of time alone with my dogs and fish.

Thursday, February 03, 2005


I'm not proud to admit that more people appear to have seen naked yoda than anything else I've done, cummulatively. But at least it is obvious that I am on to something.

Still struggling with the pupil/master scene for the Narcissist. STRUGGLING. I can't figure out the tone. It needs to be funny. My mind keeps referencing the yoda/luke scene in Empire.

The Hero goes to the temple. He sees Master Tim. Tim doesn't seem capable of helping the Hero. The Hero is lead to a cave like the one in Empire. What will the Hero find in there? "Only what he brings in" like in Star Wars. What's in the cave? --The game box. What's on the tv? --His mother doing something caustic that causes the Hero to "split" in the first place. Heavy. What does this scene need? A little naked yoda. Perhaps literally.

"Skroda, you seek Skroda."

Is a little claymation in order here? I'm so heavily alluding to the original scene (in Empire). I'd like to see a little raunchy Skroda who is incredibly wise.

Devil's Haircut

Originally uploaded by tanalee.
I gave my first haircut to a human yesterday. This is the editor of the movie.

Car Painting

Car Painting
Originally uploaded by tanalee.
I'd like to sell this. It's about 3 foot by 4.

Wednesday, February 02, 2005

More on my shadow self

The inability to focus continues but I'm thinking. My most hated qualities all add up to one thing. I am a grub. I'm always checking the free section on craigslist. I'm always checking my freecycle emails. And I really, really hate those people:

"Needed desperately-Flat Screen Monitor-Shirley

I would really appreciate a 19 inch monitor, 17 inch would be okay too but these old eyes . . ."

That guy who's always asking for art and decoys and laptops and digital cameras. That one guy from Shirley. He's a nice guy I guess. But he's a major grub and it drives me nuts.

The worst part. THE ABSOLUTE WORST PART is that guy gave me a nearly new printer and an awesome binocular (dissecting) microscope. He's the only guy to give me anything decent on freecycle and he still drives me nuts with all his grubbing.

I doubt grubbery is the depth of my darkness but I have a feeling that grubbing stands at the gate.

Freecycle incenses me. "Saving the world one gift at a time." Tell the truth.

"Grubbing, grubbing and more grubbing"

"Needed-Laptop for autistic child"

"Desperately needed-Electric guitar

I'm starting a band and I need one right away!"


If you updated to the mini and you have one that's lying around . . ."

The worst part is when someone's asking for something that I have and totally don't use. It makes me feel all guilty and stuff.

If you'd like to wallow in the neediness of "formyprincess98" "bradleysmom4eva" please do join freecycle. You might be missing out on all the crap that you think you really want. After all they're "saving the world, one gift at a time."

Pardon me I have to go check my email.

An Epiphany

The subject I'm trying to understand and convey is that of the shadow self. To analyze such a thing one would have to confront the very things that a person wishes to hide. A lot of the sites that I've been reading have a statement such as this:

Observe what you most hate in others. This will be a reflection of your shadow self.

I did my list of qualities that I hate. I dislike one who is:


I asked some friends. Arrogance was at the top of their lists too. One's list emphasized inhumanity/cruelty. The other emphasized entitlement.

At least now I know why I couldn't focus. This is a bigger project than I had thought.

Tuesday, February 01, 2005

Can't Focus

I got a colloidal silver generator from Coyote Zenterprizes yesterday (silverpuppy.com) I have this bizarre fantasy where I get to have a science lab. I think it started with the darkroom. Science was never my subject in school so I don't know what the deal is. I just really want bunsen (sp?) burners and the high lab tables and microscopes.

Anyway, I've been "making" this stuff up. It appears to be working. Still really preoccupied with this scene that I'm STILL trying to write. It appears that it's been wittled down to:

hero's shadow self animates the game box.
game box comes back because he's linked to the hero.
show cause of fragmentation of his personality.
show this to the audience without showing it to the hero himself.
how to express this simply.

I figure if I keep looking stuff up on the shadow self that I'll get an illustration that makes sense. I liked one illustration from a Wicca site. (You can't light a candle without casting a shadow.) I'm not writing until I know what to do. BUT Since I don't know what to do I'm really having trouble focusing on this. It's too nebulous.

I just joined Friendster

What's up with that?

Web Counter
Free Counters