emohen

in flux

I Love N’Sync

Long story short, I found myself watching some N’Sync videos a few weeks ago. Couple reasons (besides The Hot One) that I love N’Sync:

They are everything that was cool about 15 years ago. This video, for example, has Jamiroquai, Michael (feat Janet) Jackson and just a dash of old school Pinnoco. One word: glorious. Plus, Hot One sings!

Not enough toys for you?! This one is basically Toy Story: The Synchronized Gyration with a little Barbie Girl mixed in for fabulous measure.

Gone is so sad. So sad. But the lyrics really are beautiful, and pairing it with a video full of meaningful stares and wall slides makes it a timeless and truly powerful song. It rivals Show Me The Meaning Of Being Lonely for best angsty cry-until-you-die song by a 1990’s-era boy band.

Finally, this video is a delight for all senses. Break dancing! Chokers! Shirt on top of a shirt under another shirt!  Not to mention the seizure-inducing dance club set and wicked graphics.  Also, Hot One sings some more. Please don’t miss the last 30 seconds! Do it for JT.

Thank you for your time.

Mo in CO: Month 8

I’ll keep it short: The life I planned imploded completely, as life well planned is wont to do. After 7 months of abandoning everything I love that keeps me sane – reading, writing, art and being sober – I am starting to get back to it. I reestablished Like a Mug, for example, and I’m reading a fat novel with very small print. I’ve lost all my Hate Weight and made a couple sketches as gifts. My box of wine has lasted two whole days! In short, I’m back where I need to be and getting better every day.

I can’t believe I made it, yay.

Letter to my 15 year old self

I wrote this on April 5, 2007 in my long dead Live Journal. Every word still echoes true.

Read the rest of this entry »

Analogy of the day: Welcome to Night Vale

From Episode 4 of Welcome to Night Vale:

After the sentient lightning bolt struck him and gave him the strength of two jeeps and the intelligence of a heavily concussed René Descartes…

Both unexpected and brilliant. 

Mo in CO: Month One

I’ve lived in Colorado for a month and a half now. I’ve read seven books, started two art projects, entered a writing contest, lost 8 pounds and started waking up before sunrise all on my own. I am so happy here it’s unbelievable.

Those books though… most of those seven books were not good. On my way out of Texas I went on Amazon and grabbed a bunch of free books just to have to pass the time. That right there is the murky dark side to the wonder that is e-reading. It’s hard to tell good from bad once the paid reviews and author’s friends get their two cents in. I won’t name the (mostly indy) titles here, but I sure won’t be so laissez faire with my selections in the future. Two of them were great, though, so it wasn’t a completely wasted effort. (Not that reading ever is!)

The first, The Blue Lagoon, was one i thought I’d read in high school. Apparently I got mixed up with either Island of the Blue Dolphin or The Cay, maybe both, but this book is not either by a long shot.  The Blue Lagoon was written back in the early 1900s and is titled as a romance. Were that not on the title, I’d never have guessed it. I could see how the author could have used ‘romance’ in an ironic sense, but then I think I’m reaching much too far. And for a book that tells the story of a shipwreck and island life, it moved awfully slow. The first half was the best, I think; the end is shit. I swear, I did like it! It was pleasant to pick up and read a few chapters at a time, but I wasn’t hungry for it. I’m happy to have read it, but won’t read it again.

The second was The Girl and the Bomb. I admit that I was surprised by this one. The story is set in Finland and follows the lives of a group of graffiti artists, and one girl in particular. This book, while not a ‘romance’, used the theme of love as fuel for creative revenge. I read this practically overnight, I liked it so much. I finished it a few days ago and still wan to give Metro a hug. Fun bonus: Both the author, and the translator, are total hunks. I got this book for nothing, but would have gladly paid. I will definitely keep an eye out for more of Jari Järvelä’s work.

Since moving, I have a ton of free time and am trying not to waste it – I truly hope that means more books, art and writing in my very immediate future. Seven books in a month and a half, shit. Thats a pretty good start. Let’s see if I can keep the momentum going.

Starship Go Boom

Starship troopers cover

‘Debra Messing Space Bugs’ is the first of many failed Google searches I’ve made while trying to remember the name of this damn book. I’ve spent the past month trying to finish reading it, but the title escapes me unless I’m staring right at the cover. I know they made it into a movie, and I know Debra Messing was in it. Not according to IMDB she wasn’t! Or was it Isla Fisher? Nope, not her either. It was Dina Meyer, as it turns out, and the book itself is Starship Troopers.

One of the best things about falling in love and moving in together is all the new books! My boyfriend’s tastes are very different from mine, but when I spotted his newly unpacked copy of Starship Troopers, I could not wait to read it. The movie is one big cheese-fest explosion covered in goo, and I loved it when I first saw it in theatres. It probably should not have come as a surprise that the book was nothing like that at all.

I wasn’t expecting hologram popups and hawt alien sex, but I was hoping for something to help move things along. For a book based in space, with rocket suits and dangerous missions, I just do not care. The book isn’t awful, just incredibly dull.  It reads like a long college lecture, with no excitement in the descriptions or the story itself. The main character, Rico, is entirely blank, with no discernible personality beyond Guy Who Observes Things. I like Zim, but that’s about it. Maybe all the flashbacks are what’s pulling me out of the grove, or the stilted way it plods along. Whatever the reason, I’m bored.

I refuse to believe that Robert A. Heinlein, with all his influence and accolades, just isn’t for me. Possibly it’s the genre, but that doesn’t sit well with me, either. Sci Fi is never my first choice, but I’ve read enough to know that it interests me, generally. I’m more than halfway through, and out of respect for the author, I absolutely intend to finish it. Hell, I’d even like to give another one of his books a shot. But considering I’ve finished two other novels while also working through this one, probably not any time soon.

Over three years later, much has changed

I came back to Texas just before New Years Day, 2013. I stepped off the plane and over the next three months, watched my life fall apart. On to the next adventure, indeed.

Everything changed. Everything. I was living that old trope of looking into the mirror and not recognizing the eyes staring back. I felt as if every wonderful sparkling quality that made up my personality starting blinking and fading away. And for over a year, I couldn’t write. My muse, and the voice that came with it, just disappeared. No more husband, no more career. All my goals were gone. No more out of the blue story ideas in the shower, or long weekends reading books in bed. I dropped all my hobbies, and the houseplants slowly died. Even surrounded by all my new friends and suitors, I had nothing much to say. It was the loneliest time of my life.

Things got better, of course. It wasn’t easy, especially at first, but it did end up being full of interesting lessons, and surprisingly fun. And although I recognize that I am better for having been through it, I see a hard edge to my personality that wasn’t there before. The wide-eyed joy has been tempered down to something more realistic and suited to survival. I still drink more than I probably should.

But I’m in love, and I feel more complete now than I ever have, just two short months away from turning 30. And I am happy, even working a job I don’t really like, living in a city I swore I’d never come back to. It’s looking like I will get my happily ever after, after all.

Of course, I can’t properly sing this redemption song without saving a verse for the one grip of sanity that, through it all, kept me from falling completely into some dark and scary place. Can’t stay in bed when there’s mouths to feed and a litter box to freshen up. Her Majesty, the Queen:

Niena

Thank you, baby girl

My voice is slowly returning; a little raspy from disuse, but popping up more frequently. It is my hope that in writing this, more and more words will come. Even if nobody’s reading, this is my therapy.