Raven,

I shouldn't even dignify your impotent jabs at me with a response but I can't help myself. Being a fellow journal troll I'm sure you are conversant with our inability to resist troll food. Here is a whole entry devoted to rebutting that which does not warrant a rebut.

I'm not sure how I would comment "off line" on a website. I know you're not the brightest light on the christmas tree but come on. Here are Jackie's quotes (that I assume you're attributing to me, because it couldn't POSSIBLY be any one of the THOUSANDS of people that have been looking at her journal of late).

Here are Your quotes (hey look, you even won an award!). This is the only one that I am actually responsible for.

I thought this was going to be a bit more interesting. The only bit of "gossip" on me you've got is about my pregnancy scare and my boyfriend leaving me, which are things I freely admit to. As heartwarming as your display of Christian compassion is, I don't see what you're trying to prove with it. That atheists are doomed to have their boyfriends leave them? That pregnancy scares are god's retribution for sin? I know your familiarity with what could be called "normalcy" is limited, but these are normal things that happen to normal people in normal life.

So, in summation;

1. You're a paranoid delusional who sees me behind every post about you on a website that thousands of people contribute to.
2. You like to state the obvious as though it were some grand revelation ("confusinomitron is a journal troll").
3. You like to insert yourselves into the sex lives of Christians and non-Christians alike.
4. You're a journal troll.
5. You like to kick people when they're down.
6. You're a wanker.

Have you ever asked someone who their heroes are and gotten a glib response along the lines of "I don't have any heroes, heroes are for the weak. I don't live in anyone's shadow!"?

I wonder about people like that. Do they really have no one they look up to? Do they consider themselves such a pinnacle of intellectual greatness that they believe they have nothing to learn from the likes of Nietzsche, or Carl Sagan, or Stephen Hawkings?

Of course I work from the assumption that there is a mutual understanding of what the word "hero" entails. I define a personal hero as someone who has accomplished things you would like to accomplish, or excelled at things you would like to excel at.

Some people seem to take a degree of indignation at the implication that every thought they've ever had has not necessarily sprung from the wellspring of their own mind. It's as if they think to draw inspiration from an outside source, and thus secede that you are not an impenetrable and self-sustaining bastion of originality, is in some way indicative of personal weakness.

There is nothing new under the sun. I hate to use a Palahniuk phrase that has been bandied about so often it is now a trite cliche, but you are not a fucking snowflake. If you truly believe there is no one in this world worthy of your respect and admiration you are either full of shit or severely deluded. Unless you're zipping around in a motorized wheelchair and vocalizing through a computer I'm inclined to believe you're both.

Strange how something can simultaneously be a good and a bad thing. I'm really enjoying being unattached. It feels as though a weight has been lifted. I can occupy myself with the tedium that satisfies me without worrying about keeping someone else happy and entertained. I don't feel as though I have to be happy and cheerful all the time, and because of that I am genuinely happy more often.

There are things that I miss, though. Not enough so that I would want to enter into a relationship just for the comfort of having those things, but I still mourn their loss. The heady feeling of a new relationship, when everything is new and exciting and perfect, when you are blind to all your lover's flaws and they are blind to yours. The security of an arm around your waist while you drift off to sleep, the sound of another human being's respiration following you into the twilight of wakefulness.

C'est la vie. I draw comfort from the knowledge that a future love is going through the motions of life just as I am, existing somewhere, waiting the be discovered. I am optimistic about this, if nothing else.

Today was sunny and I went outside.

Not just outside. All the way to the city! I'm proud of me. Gotta crawl before you can walk and all that.

I picked up Richard Dawkin's The God Delusion and it got me thinking about my future. I want to do something with my life, something that will leave an indelible mark not just on my family and friends but on people I don't know as well. So, it's either get my ass in to college, learn the Bible, Koran and all the other mythology inside and out and take the bull by the horns, or go postal, find a high place, and start picking people off with an automatic rifle. It's still a tossup at this point. I'll let you know, one way or another (wink wink).

Today is warm and sunny and I'm restless.

I talked to Ryan on the phone the other day and damn, it was good to hear his voice. I asked if the offer to move in with him when he comes home is still valid and he said of course. For some reason he manages to love me and enjoy my company even though I basically dump all my problems on his whenever we talk.

His ex-wife/pseudo-fiancee has been incommunicado for a month now so he's not sure what's going on. I told him she was definitely trying to send him a message but that the message was not necessarily that she didn't want to get married. Of course that was a placation but Ryan's not stupid and I'm sure he knew it. Whether or not she's changed her mind about getting married doesn't matter much anyway, because the alternative is that she's either playing games or not sure what she wants and the end result will be the same. Ryan doesn't put up with bullshit like that and I hope this case will be no exception.

I just went out for a cigarette and a stretch Hummer limo thing went up my street. Stretch hummers succinctly embody everything I fucking hate about this country. They're huge, obnoxious and wasteful. Am I anti-American? Not really. I am very anti-current-state-of-America but America the concept is something I love and respect. I don't believe America as it is now is very American at all.

As far as being single goes I'm handling it pretty well. Actually as the days go by I become more and more glad that I am no longer attached. The person I am now is a pale effigy of who I can be under the right circumstances, and I'm grateful for the chance to develop myself so that my next relationship can progress unhindered by the roadblocks that are currently in place. I'm through with dating. That is not to say I won't date anymore. I see "dating" as the process of figuring out what you want in a partner by trial and error and I've dated enough to know the qualities I seek. Of course I'll still have to go through the getting-to-know-you bullshit but I'll waste much less time in relationships that don't really suit me. I'm ready to find my match and be done with it. Well, I will be when I start dating again, which won't be until I get a job and my own place to live.

The question is, what do I do with myself til October rolls around? I can't get a job because I don't have a car and to get a car I need to get a job. Even if I could somehow arrange transportation into town it wouldn't matter, because as Ryan so aptly put it, "you live in a dead zone". This is a tourist town. It's all service jobs catering to rich out-of-towners, pushy people who have little patience with lowly clerks who take a few minutes too long to serve them.

When someone speaks to me with even the slightest reprimanding tone in their voice I cry. Whether it be a customer or a co-worker or a boss, even gentle scolding causes my eyes to sting with tears and my nose to start running. I don't know why I'm like this. Perhaps it's some deep-rooted sense of inadequacy that's reaffirmed whenever I do something improperly. In any case it's lead to quite a few utterly humiliating scenes in previous places of employment. Standing at the register during the lunch rush at McDonald's with tears streaming down my face and a long line of impatient customers growing more restless by the second, frustrated with the silly girl having a breakdown and frittering away the minutes of their lunch-break.

Now I'm just rambling on to an audience that I'm sure consists only of myself at this point. I don't really have a graceful way to wrap up this less than cogent entry so I'm just going to stop typing......now.

It's snowing out even though I personally feel it doesn't have a right to do so. Whatever happened to April showers? Though I suppose water's water no matter what form it takes.

About an hour ago reality finally breached the surface of what I guess was my veneer of denial. I absorbed the fact that I am alone again. I've been in this room for months, this room which is both my haven and my prison. Having a cellmate made it bearable for a time but even then sometimes I would stop whatever I was doing and reflect on how absolutely miserable I am. Knowing someone loved me even though I'm such a wretched creature saved me from the darker depths of my own psyche and it was nice while it lasted, but part of me always knew that it was a transient thing. My situation and my disposition suffocate love.

Christ, I miss him.

Looking around I see so many ghosts. The impressions of the wheels of his suitcase in my carpet, a wrapper from a cheap gas station pastry he ate. I wonder how long they'll haunt me.

People will swallow anything, and I mean anyfuckingthing, if it makes life just a little bit easier for them.

Jenny McCarthy started the site indigomoms to, ostensibly, lend a degree of blonde model credibility to a burgeoning field of psuedoscience. Like me, you may have heard of the term "Indigo child" or "crystal child" before and dismissed it as so much new-age hoodoo. Having nothing better to do I decided to look into it a bit (for the lulz, you understand).

Holy shit! Ms McCarthy claims to have an "Indigo kid" (as though it's such a prosaic statement as "my child is diabetic" or "my child has leukemia"). Here are some of the signs that YOUR CHILD MAY BE PART OF A GENETICALLY ALTERED MASTER RACE FROM THE FUTURE HOLY FUCK!

* They come into the world with a feeling of royalty (and often act like it).
* They have a feeling of "deserving to be here," and are surprised when others do not share that.
* Self-worth is not a big issue; they often tell the parents "who they are."
* They have difficulty with absolute authority (authority without explanation or choice).
* They simply will not do certain things; for example, waiting in line is difficult for them.
* They get frustrated with systems that are ritually oriented and do not require creative thought.
* They often see better ways of doing things, both at home and in school, which makes them seem like "system busters" (non-conforming to any system).
* They seem antisocial unless they are with their own kind. If there are no others of like consciousness around them, they often turn inward, feeling like no other human understands them. School is often extremely difficult for them socially.
* They will not respond to "guilt" discipline ("Wait till your father gets home and finds out what you did").
* They are not shy in letting it be known what they need.

I'm not a child psychologist but might having a filthy-rich supermodel mom lead to several of these behavioral anomalies? Specifically the ones I have so conveniently bolded?

BUT NO HE'S NOT A FUCKING PISSANT BRAT HE'S A STARCHILD OF THE FUTURE BECAUSE HE WON'T GO TO BED WHEN I TELL HIM TO OR EAT HIS PEAS AND HE REFUSES TO WAIT IN LINES! THIS IS IRREFUTABLE PROOF THAT I HAVE SPAWNED THE HIPPIE EQUIVALENT OF AN X-MAN!

Fuck you, you numb cunt. Fuck you and your elitist approach to child-rearing which will inevitably lead to a "master race" of spoiled genetic refuse that haughtily turns up their noses at common children whose parents were too poor to send them to a private starchild school.

If you think I'm being overly-skeptical you can read this shit for yourselves. Here is an interview with a starchild/indigo kid/crystal child/severely in need of a spanking child expert. When the first line of your credentials includes the statement "Dr. Doreen Virtue is a spiritual doctor of psychology and a fourth-generation metaphysician who works with the angelic, elemental, and ascended-master realms in her writings and workshops" your resume pretty much writes itself.

I hate people so much. Except Jack Daniels. He's okay.

Scaphism
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Mr Benjamin finally got his brand new sexy Macbook last night. His work demands so much of him, setting ridiculous deadlines and making him code in languages he doesn't know (he's a graphic designer and a damn good one...why the fuck are you making him code shit?) and making him commute three hours to come in on his days off. The least they could do is buy him a damn laptop so he can do that shit from home.

Also, his procurement of a second computer makes it possible for us to practice our nerd-love the way god intended; by sitting in the same room and completely ignoring each other while we run instances and /hug and /kiss each other's in-game avatar.

I ran my first instance last night because I do not play well with others except Benjamin and I was unwilling to group with anyone in-game even for phat lewtz. I was perfectly happy making due with lewts that were simply chubby if it meant I didn't have to group with a dwarf that constantly made jokes like "while I'm down here HUR HUR HUR". Almost every time I have grouped (and I always grouped for their benefit because I am a nice person and especially so when I am shitfaced which I usually am) the dickwad would tell me I'm a hottie or some stupid shit. Like you do realize that's my online avatar and not really me, Romeo? I might have a dick big enough to knock you out in real life.

Anyway I digress.

So we ran this instance and it was great to be able to play with Mr Benjamin in the first place but it was also nice to do something other than grind. In instances there are goals and a basic storyline and shit happens when you interact with the environment. I was really nervous that I would fuck everything up and get us both killed but I managed to do pretty well, I think. We successfully completed the run and neither of us died once.

I also found out that not only do I not suck as much as I thought I did but my pet is an excellent little tank. I have a hyena because I wanted something different and everyone else has cats or bears or wolves. I did a bit of research before I decided on my companion because he's going to be with me for quite some time, at least until I get to the outlands) and saw a lot of people claiming hyenas suck because they have no special skill. Well I'll tell you what, nublet, Furious Howl ain't that great. I'll gladly forfeit the ability for a pet that is at least original.

Plus, how can you not love this face?

Would you get the fuck down here and knock some sense (or at the very least, continuity) into your followers?

Homosexuality is a sin, that's not what Christ taught! Homosexuality isn't a sin, that's not what Christ taught! Women are inferior, that's not what Christ taught! Women are equal, that's not what Christ taught!

My mind is thoroughly boggled that anyone in the year two-thousand-seven still looks to an ancient book of mythology to guide them through their daily lives. So many people live in a constant state of delusion; the message in your fortune cookie, the swirls in a hurricane, the serendipity of events are all indications that god is alive and active in your life.

Well, if you choose to worship this god; admitted jealous homicidal maniac, killer of children and exterminator of innocents...I question your morals, as well as your intellectual capacity.

I started this journal as a courtesy to my friends on myspace so they wouldn't have to deal with a new journal every hour about things they don't give a shit about. Of course now I find myself lacking anything of substance to say.

Also, fuck my friends on myspace. They have to post a bulletin every time they add a new fucking picture or put a new asinine video from youtube on their page. YES WE HAVE ALL SEEN THE MENTOS/PEPSI TRICK AND YES WE ARE ALL SICK OF IT FAGBLAST. Also they put up a bulletin every time they post a new blog which is retarded because if I cared about their cunting blog I would have subscribed to it and therefore would get an email in my gmail.

Holy hell am I cranky today.

So I just caught a little of Bush's speech and he's all "Iraq terrorists freedom democracy insurgents stay the course Al Qaida freedom Hezbollah democracy victory America freedom" and I'm all "lol Bushie you so crazy I'm gonna go get drunk now".

He's sending in more troops. What a goddam clusterfuck this is, and what an incompetent cokemonkey of a COC he is.

Seems it happens every few years. I get the urge to communicate with various people I don't know in a forum where I can easily hide behind a screen and, if I make a mistake I cannot backpedal out of, delete myself and start fresh.

Cheers,

~Chelsea