Friday, June 29, 2012

The Space Between

In the summer, in Philadelphia, it tends to get pretty hot here. Hot enough, that summer weather actually starts mid-April, and by the end of May, you either have air conditioning or the number to the local mortician on hand. So it was a nice gift Mother Nature gave us last week where the highs were only 70-something degrees with lots of cool, de-humidified winds.

Days like those remind me of early spring. Not the fairy-tale ideas of floral breezes, chirping birds, and cute little rain showers. The true spring I know happens when the sun isn't the main focus.

When I was younger, I used to catch fireflies in an old Maxwell House coffee can. The lid was plastic, with a few holes punched in it from an ice pick, and the inside metal band was still a little sharp. I had my methods. Most of which, should I need to catch any now, would be much the same as it had been. Those fading green spots dancing in and out of pink and purple skies...twilight was certainly beautiful.

Memories are a strange thing. On one hand, it's all we'll ever have after a certain point. Memories of childhood, your teenage years, adulthood and beyond, all crammed into your own personal highlight reel. Sure, you might have pictures, or maybe even video of some of these things, but, it's never quite the same as it was actually being there. Colors aren't as vivid, sounds are muttered at best, and the emotion behind it lacks spark. On the other hand, memories can act like a personal time machine, taking you back to a moment in your life that had so much behind it that you could never forget it. True, some are good, and others are bad, but, you cant really have one without the other.

And we learn from all this. We learn that roller skates need a lot of balance. That dirt tastes bad. That Jimmy down the block likes us, so we should try to wear that dress more often. Or not.

In high school, I learned that I was weird. Very tall, kinda fat, and almost the opposite from who everyone else was. I didn't like a lot of pop music. I never had a boyfriend. I didn't care if my hair and nails ever got done, and I didn't like a lot of what I saw was getting done. I was in the orchestra. I drew comic books. I spent most of my time playing video games or wistfully writing about seamless nothings. All my friends were online. Well, most of them were. Despite it all, I still managed to make a couple of friends.

Aimee was my friend since 6th grade. We fought a lot, and she had once said that I looked like the fat-faced people from Green Day's "Basketcase" video. She was cool with a lot of other things though. I think because we were both outcasts then, that we had a mutual respect for one another. To this day, she is the only one who even bothered with a sympathy card after my brother died. So, it's kind of a shame that we eventually talked less and less, and are kind of just acquaintances now.

Christi was...loud. She talked a lot, and usually about nothing important. And even though she lacked the finer graces of subtlety, she did cheer me on when it came to me putting pencil to paper, in whatever format that may be. After she moved out of my house years ago, she never bothered to get in touch with me.

Michiru and Lexie were two girls who were a few years younger than me, so the only times I saw them at school was at lunch and music practice. Lexie was insanely talented. Almost frustratingly so. Give her any instrument and she instantly knew what to do with it. Michiru (Michelle...I "Sailor Moon'ed" her name) was quite possibly the sweetest person I had ever met. She even home-made me a coffee cake for my birthday senior year, because she knew it was my favorite. But, much like the others, time withered away for them, too.

Jackie. Jackie, oh Jackie. Jackie-call-me-backie. (She legit left that on my answering machine a few times.) I could fill a book with the amount of bizarre stuff that would come out of this girl's mouth. And by bizarre, I mean, "I talked to your dead mom and she hates you" kind, not the fun, quirky kind. I have so many mixed feelings for that name. On one hand, she started off as an odd person to pass notes to, and was kind of funny when we both would get stuck out in the hall for music class. She even did my homework half of the time. On the other hand, she was sleeping with my brother who is 10 years older than me, and apparently was getting drugs for him. Oh, and the -entire- school knew this before I did. That, is not an exaggeration. Needless to say, we don't talk.

Jessi was my absolute best friend. She was the only person who laughed at my jokes, thought the same things I thought were cool, and actually thought I was cool. Which is funny, because I met her through Jackie. I remember playing Yoshi's Story with her one night and making dumb noises when Yoshi would eat the peppers. She almost peed herself when I randomly shouted "PEPPER LOOPS!"...yeah, we were talking about cereal right before that. Unlike most of everyone else, we actually kept in touch after high school. But not for long, though. She found new friends, and I had just given birth to Ivy at the time. I kind of saw it coming. It all still feels a little sour though.

My sister is in touch with all of the social media these days. I gave in many moons ago to AIM and then eventually MySpace, but aside from what you're seeing now, I don't think I'll be doing much of that in the future. On Facebook though, a lot of people I knew decided to friend her. Which is odd, because I never thought any of them knew/cared about her. Cindy explained it to me though, that they're doing it to 'keep in touch' with me. Why not pick up the phone? I wondered. Why not send an email? Why go the vaguest and least connected way possible?

I let it go. I knew better. And part of me knew why, too.

Then there's today, just about 7 years since I've seen anyone. Cindy was lurking around Facebook and texts me that Jess was thinking about 'the old crew'. And that she's 13 weeks pregnant. There's ultrasound pictures and everything.

And then I tap into my memories again. I think about the fun we had, and the stuff we shared. I think about her weird cursive writing, her cat Sniffy, and how even when we had nothing to say in all of those notes we passed, I still looked forward to them, everyday. I think about us almost crying at graduation. I think about the Hello Kitty blanket she bought Ivy. I think about the space between.

I know I cant go back to where we were then. Things come and go in life, and holding on to the ghosts of people I once knew wont help either. I can only wish her well from where I sit on my couch.

Maybe I can make better memories in the future.
But for now, though, I still have my fireflies.

Until then.

Wednesday, June 13, 2012


My head is a bit screwy at the moment.

Mainly due to lack of sleep all this week and probably due to the worst possible breakfast/lunch/dinner last weekend. Both of which, 90% of it was out of my control. The other 10% is me acting like a child, not wanting to go to bed at a decent time. Ah, well.

So, instead of just one cohesive thought tonight, you're going to get exactly as the title says. Good? Good.

Thought #1:

I had a birthday a couple of weeks ago, and Joe got me 2 of the 3 parts of the Revolutionary Girl Utena remastered box sets. I cant really tell if the audio has been tweaked or not, seeing as how the lone TV we have is kind of old and is more or less mono. But the colors got saturated, and some of the animation itself has been cleaned up as well. Not to mention the super happy bonus stuff on every disk.

I adore this series. So, even without half of whats on there, I would of wanted it anyway. (Even though I do have the original DVD sets that came out years ago. Heh. <3)

It's kind of hard to describe it to someone who's never seen it before. Most reviews kind of throw it into one bin or another. And really, that hardly does it justice. Unless you're an uber-man, filled with buckets upon gallons of hormonal, sweaty, testosterone or someone who doesn't like anime in general, I recommend. Stick with it to the end, folks. The ride just gets weirder.

Thought #2:

My summer is going to suck. Almost every weekend, I'm either going to be going to the beach (which I don't like at all) or I'm going to be babysitting my parent's diabetic cat. Then there's the huge vacation they planned in August, which, is probably going to drive me beyond nuts. I don't hate my parents, but, I really cant stand them at times. Mostly because they act like how they do, and do things that make no logical sense.

I'd go into more detail about that here, but I don't really want to divulge and you're not a therapist.
Or...are you?

Thought #3:

I love Calabrese. <3

Speaking of...

Thought #4:

I'm having one of those moments where I'm trying to decide if I'm acting a bit crazy or not.

You see, as most of you know, I started "House of Stuff" back in March of this year. No doubt you've noticed the color scheme of things. And, surely, you've noticed how I sign off on every post.

So, I see this:

And think....neat! We like the same colors, I guess!

Then the June 12th post:

And think...this is a short assed post! But...nah, its probably a coincidence.

Then, I click on the 'Stats' button for HoS, and notice I've had two hits from Bobby's Blog.

I know it's probably some random person just checking out the other people that are following him on Blogger. But, it got me thinking.

And then I nearly passed out from a sudden fangasim to the head.

If you're reading, B, I hope you're enjoying. I really do. <3

If not, well, I'm sorry I'm acting like a headcase and shan't offend you as such in the future.

Again, lack of sleep and all this week...
Mercy, my lords.

Thought #5:

Christopher Moore is making another book with Pocket in it! Yaaaay!

I'm currently reading 'Sacre Bleu' by him. I'm only a third of the way into it, but he made my favourite painter die in the first chapter. Ploo. But, it does have a lot of random funny in it, which is what he does best, so, again...yaaaay!

Now, if Phillipa Gregory would come out with another book this year, then all will be right with the world...

Thought #6:

Jeez, this is random...

Thought #7:

Sweet Pokemon Black and White 2 trailer:

The more I see/hear about this game, the more I want to play it.
Maybe I can break out my Litwick this time. Darumaka was too good to put down in the first one.

Thought #8:

I wish I had a #9 and a #10 thought to round out this list.

Well, there you go.
(Cue the Kung Pow jokes...)

I'm going to make a post in HoS in the very near future, perhaps tomorrow. As for now, I'm going to try to take a walk and make myself go to bed before 2 am. Post not up to my usual quality? Yep. Don't I know it.

But, it wont always be like this. I promise.

Until then.

Saturday, June 9, 2012

Could. Not. Wait.

Dayglo Necros.

Oh, you knew this was going to happen. Shame on you for thinking otherwise.

I had been waiting like a kid on Christmas when Bobby had announced that they were sending out the new Calabrese CD over the weekend. I counted myself lucky that my last name starts with a "C"...assuming they went in alphabetical order. Either way, it came. Today. The postal gods had smiled upon me.

I was exercising at the time. My usual DDR regimen of standard/heavy for 40-60 minutes. (Haha, yeah, whatever. Don't judge.)  I had actually made a goofy squealing sound when I heard the door open and then saw the beautiful little yellow package waiting for me at the foot of the stairs.

Etta James rang through my ears as I nearly slid down the steps in my haste. I held it in my hands, grinning. A small bat was drawn at the bottom. My name and address were written in alternating letters in blood red marker down the center. It was here. It was actually here.

But I didn't open it. I was sweating from jumping around like an idiot. I hadn't showered. I knew what was inside and didn't want to dirty a thing.

So I tucked it away on the couch. I put the stuffed Cthulhu that normally guards our bookcases and door on top of it, lest kitties decide to gnaw on the minute amount of plastic therein.

I'm very nearly done flailing about when Joe comes home. He peels his shirt off and we both comment on how much we were sweating. We hug like strangers. I barely wish him a happy birthday before I tell him what came in the mail today.

I hand him the package. He can't make out the drawing on the front.
He gingerly tears open the self-sealing flap and carefully takes out the insides.

4 postcards. Of them. Signed. Not just signed on their individual cards, but on the group photo as well. It's almost hard to look at them because of my overwhelming fangirl excitement. I mentally get a nosebleed.

A note from Davey.
A high quality photocopy he hand wrote, thanking those who bought the CD for believing in rock. Another signature at the bottom. 2 from Jimmy and Bobby, and now 3 from Davey. Already my $16-something dollars was worth it.

An invoice. "C dad" at the bottom. Papabrese.
An unexpected fourth. Bonus!

Then came the CD itself.

Pure audible sex.

Never mind the art and the neat mini faux movie poster inside. (Are they trying to kill me? Bishonen daisuke...) Never mind that my first impressions of the first single was that it sounded a little crunchy and there was an ass ton of reverb on the vocals. I get it now. I totally get it. The darkness has veiled my eyes and I shall be raptured to the nearest temple.

Aah, so good. You have no idea.
Well, maybe you would if you bought the CD.

Until then.

Friday, June 8, 2012

In the Begining...

I've decided, that, in order for my first Blog not to get gunked up with random ideas and things that are not creative *coughCalabresefangilrantscough* that I would make a separate one for just that purpose.

Introducing...Madam Cheezy's Closet of Things!

Not terribly creative, I know. But everybody has a stash of stuff that collects dust and hardly gets used...for some, it's a junk drawer, for others with more room, or lack of wall storage, it's a closet. Let's not even get into the garage/shed bits. We all know what you keep in there.

So, for starters...hello there. <3
It's a pleasure to meet you, so to speak.

I'll introduce you to some of my family...

Not what you were expecting, was it? Heh...
Kitty #1. Her name is Morrigan.
She likes lap time. A LOT.

Max, in the foreground, Maxine in the background. Yes, they're related. Father and daughter, to be specific. They love laser pointers.

Nyx. (And more Max in the back.)
She's crazy. Seriously.
As if you couldn't tell from the picture...

And here we have Selene. Sleeping in the popcorn bowl.
'Nuff said.

Well, I think I'll leave it at that for now.

More random posts sure to follow.
And more 'legitimate' posts in ye olde "House of Stuff" when I get the chance.

Until then.