Cain is rising

Okay, so, financial commitments this year that my tax return (whatever it turns out to be, since I am now apparently self-employed and that will SUCK) would be useful for: student loans, car payments, rent guarantee for trip to England, general fucking around with a case of Malibu, etc.

I'm sure there are other things in there. Maybe I could get a head start on presents for Sept-Dec (since my family gets bored in the winter, there are about...six? seven? more? birthdays in Sept, Oct, and Nov. And then Christmas.

Also, I would really, really like a chair. And a new TV, apparently, since we made the DVD player work (yay!) but the TV hates it. No great surprise, frankly, since the TV was Not That Great to start with and then it spent...uh...four? years in a cold storage space. I'm amazed it works at all. But the chair and the TV would be nice so that I could get around to watching some of my DVDs. Since I haven't seen half of them, and that only counts the ones I saw in theatre but not on the DVD I then bought.

*wrestles post back to the point*

What am I going to do instead? I don't know, but it's one of those dangerous sorts of times (by dangerous I mean anything is possible, rather than, you know, Russian Roulette or something) where I seek a change. But not merely a basic "I went to a different starbucks to write today" change, no, I crave something far more permanent.

Best options thus far are some sort of bizarre hair colouring (this is assuming a) that it's okay at work, which I can't imagine it wouldnt' be, and b) that I don't shave it off entirely.)

Actually, that idea has some merit. I haven't ever fully shaved my head, though I did have a crewcut for about...two years. Ironically, I didn't realise that at least some people around me felt that was probably some sort of sexual-identity statement for another four or five years. I am naive.

*ponders*

But anyway. If I do the dye thing, I am undecided as to colour, though I like blue, green, purple, and bright red. If I don't do the dye thing (after all it is not that permanent) I might get a tattoo.

This is a problem, actually. Somehow, I haven't gotten one I can just go out and GET. I asked McArcus to do a dragon for my leg (ankle wrap) in exchange for hauling his arse all over creation (that I was ogling his arse at the time was not the point, thank you very much) and he came up with something that's quite cool and that I can't wait to get in ink...but at this point it's a backpiece. And that would take some reducing even for that. Which puts the kibosh on doing anything else on my back.

Oh for shit's sake, this is boring me.

Right.

I'm always intrigued by this sort of mood. Where things are not satisfactory as they are, and need to be changed simply to get out of the rut you feel you are in, or, as is usual in my case, so that energy directed on one thing (in this case the fact that I have no life and everyone else in the world is more interesting than me) can be redirected on something else.

I'm not sure what that makes this feeling. It's...not a creative feeling. I know that one. Jesus, my hand is about to fall the fuck off from all the writing I did this weekend. It's much more of a dark one, though not a destructive one.

It's like you enter this mood where the imperative is that you change something, and you have no ability to do so (and believe me, I'm not moaning here, I really have no ability to change this) so you recreate yourself. In at least some small way.

Yeah, that's what it is. That might explain why I never felt that need in England because I could recreate myself as I wanted. I didn't have anyone saying to me "You never used to do this." I didn't operate in this world of expectations - even though my family is good about having minimal expectations and obligations - that people wanted to see met.

Staying out of jail was really the only one. And that was sort of optional as long as it wasn't for a stupid reason. Basic civility - and yet, I've never managed to sit through an entire family gathering without running away once, which qualifies, undoubtedly, as uncivilised behaviour. But not many beyond that.

I like that freedom, and I miss it. And I distrust my impulse to scribe upon myself when I feel this way, simply because I would make a decision I didn't like.

Perhaps that's the most rate-limiting factor in this whole process. I cannot change the thing that needs changing. I want to change myself, but cannot, because I have expectations of how I will change myself. I have minimal ability to make a decent decision in the grip of this mood. Ultimately, I would be at least moderately unhappy with almost anything I chose to do.

Still, I think the tattoo idea bears some looking in to. If I can tear my mind away from Donnie Darko long enough to keep from running in to Slave to the Needle with hundred dollar bills in my hand, shrieking "I WANT THE NUMBERS! THE COUNTDOWN! TATTOO IT ON MY ARM! NOW, BITCH!"

That's the point to avoid. That's the bad place.

That's a lot of ramble. Is this mood ever going to end?

(no subject)

theotherbliss arrives Sunday!

graeae, you've borrowed the butcher knives, right? I've got the sword, but for chopping him up to put him in garbage bags (picked those up at Costco) we'll need some finer implements. And are you going up to Seavers-Deucey with me?

Also, on a randomrandom, anyone interested in making an icon? I hate trying to find a good iconmaker on a requests comm, but I've got this idea...it involves Martha Stewart.