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I Once Encountered a Fibonacci Golden Ratio Poetry Annoyance 8 May 2008

Posted by Suzi Moonlight in Once.
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I

do

not like

the onslaught

of coincidence

including this fib you read now

obligatory drawing

A Day in the Night 6 May 2008

Posted by Suzi Moonlight in Night Person.
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I’m a night person. I can’t see any advantage to being a morning person – not that I could ever be one. Night people have the world, mostly, to themselves. The world is quiet at night. Like robots, everyone shuts down. I like that. Morning people like to pretend they have the world to themselves, up before others, but it’s like yelling ’shotgun‘ as you’re headed to the car. There’s always someone running behind you trying to subvert your claim. Morning people walk a razor’s edge of knowledge that the world is waking up around them. At any moment there they are, the rest of the world. Night people have a good 4-6 hours of the world only getting further and further away.

With the world shut down, I like to tie up loose ends at night. Do the things I didn’t get around to during the day. Several of them are on my toolbar right now. I’m working on a networking site project. To find out what applications are fun, easy to use, and reliable, I’ve signed up on a few social networking sites and have some blogs on other sites. (Don’t hate me, but LiveJournal is not fun to use) I do NOT have a myspace page. I simply cannot bring myself to have one.

Okay, that’s kind of not really the truth. I have two myspace pages. Oh God. I can’t believe I’m admitting that. Neither page is really mine. One is… a silly, mocking page for [that which cannot be named]. The other is in my pen name. I have pimped them, but my author page is marked private, and I only did it at the urging of my publisher. I don’t log into them very often, monthly at most, sometimes months go by…

I can’t put my opinion about myspace here, because my friends all know it by heart, and it would definitely lead them here. I have one sentence that shows exactly what myspace is… come to think of it, I may be able to dance around it so it won’t show in a search engine. If you’ve been on the net a while, you’ll remember there were users of a certain bulletin board service that thought it was the internet, who were mocked for their poor social skills and lesser degrees of intelligence. They all migrated to myspace. I think I’ve worded that safely enough.

I attached a small piece of chain to my watch

For having pages on social networking sites, I’m not very social. I’ll accept almost any ‘connection’ offered, but I don’t search people out. I’m testing the applications. I don’t really have the time to put too much effort into each of them. Some sites, like Gather, are crazy busy. It’s like no one on there works, and they all send me email all day long.

I don’t belong to any dating sites. I have dated… I’m thinking it’s three right now, but I could be wrong… guys I met online. One I dated a while. Two I went out with once. I like the concept of online dating – what if my perfect man lives in another state/country? – but I haven’t pursued it. I write back to everyone who emails me on my domain. I’ve made some good friends that way.

I realized recently I don’t have dating as a priority. I checked my to-do list. Checked my extended projects list. Nope, forgot to write it down. I met a guy recently online, and we wrote to each other for a while. It was like a slow first date. Instead of realizing we had very little in common in a few minutes, it took me a few emails, spread out over more than a week. By that time, he wanted to meet. I thought ‘what the heck’, then couldn’t figure out when. I finally gave him a date and time. I saw it as an appointment, he could tell. I felt bad about that. I only went, because I felt like I owed him a face-to-face. He seemed uptight even in email. Uptight and I don’t go together. A friend recently said I remind her of Dory in Finding Nemo, because I’m astounded and amused by the dumbest things. (I was giggling about a blurring css code on a webpage – she didn’t find it as amusing)

My bass guitar

I have a TV rule for late night. Do not stop on PBS. I don’t have cable/dish, because I would spend all day watching re-runs of Gilligan’s Island. I would. I would watch Dobie Gillis, just to see Maynard. No, I don’t have a crush on Bob Denver. I like the Professor on Gilligan’s Island. So smart, yet so easily confused! I would watch Bewitched. I would watch just about any black and white movie. I would watch SciFi, Discover… I would never leave the house.

I won’t stop on PBS, because I will get stuck there. I watched some of Ken Burns’ War series. I watched a documentary about Typhoid Mary. The best thing I’ve watched was a version of Hansel and Gretel. It was scary and wonderful. The trees in suits were the best. I thought they might give me nightmares, but I couldn’t look away. The worse I’ve watched, when I made the rule, is a documentary about some world hairdressing competition. I tried to pull myself away from the TV. I told myself it was a stupid thing to watch. A waste of time… I could not care less about hairdressing… I watched the whole thing. I try very hard now not to stop on PBS.

City Street

I do some real work late at night as well. I work on updates for my domain. It’s in dire need, but rather large, and I like playing with the code and graphics. Seems I never get anything finished. I have a few writing projects I’m working on – on which I’m working? One is a play. I’m stuck 3/4 of the way through it. I love the characters. I love the setting. It reminds me of a poor man’s Iceman Cometh, but I don’t know where it’s going.

Usually, I just let the characters tell me. They are mum. When I write, I don’t outline. I sit down and write. I finish what I’m writing. This one is beyond me. I think it’s safe to tell you (yes, only you) the working title is Tattoo. It’s not a shocking, pushing the envelope play. Like I said, Iceman comes to mind. I tend to write with a masculine voice, probably because I’m not a big fan of female writers and draw from what I’ve read. Most of my writing is taken as a man’s – a lesser Lethem.  A reviewer compared my writing to Philip K Dick. – don’t I wish.  A friend said my writing reminded her of Richard Matheson.  I asked her if he’s known for misspellings and bad grammar.  She didn’t think it was funny.

I use genderless names for screenplays, fiction, articles, etc. – pieces of my real name that can be used without gender, except for on my book. That was strictly a pen name. Well, not strictly. Actually, it was a neoist take on my real name. ::laugh:: I never realized that. [Neoist I used to share mail art with] would be proud.

So, that’s what I do at night while most everyone is sleeping. Not very exciting. But the quiet gives me time to think without the energy of others around. Everyone needs time to think.

thoughts.txt

Original file date: 08/01/07

Bill Gates killed intelligent software by saturating the market with left-brained, unintelligent software. See: Lotus Agenda

Though I didn’t like it when it was released, I’ve come to realize Master of Puppets is the best heavy-metal song ever written.

Imagine, fifty to a hundred years from now when our current time is mocked for the belief in evolution and global warming. They’ll laugh at this time like we laugh at the ‘flat earth’ people.

Sometimes when I’m listening to music, it strikes me as odd that people write words and music and perform/record them for other people to listen to. There’s an entire industry built around the concept of, “Listen to this song I can sing.”

I don’t get spring fever. I get fall fever.

If you name a product ‘Chocolate’ it should be brown. A dark brown would be nice.

After posting, WordPress found THIS.

Writing Onces 25 April 2008

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I mentioned in my explanation of this blog that I once wrote a book. I did. It was published. I wrote it under my pen name [insert pen name here]. It’s a collection of short stories, leaning towards speculative fiction. It wasn’t a vanity publishing, but my friend does own the company. My friend wanted a new book, but none of her authors had anything ready, so she asked me to put together something. I got to design the cover myself and the layout. The [unusual layout] was a little hard to do, but she pulled it off.

There are a few once things I can never post. There would be too many [blanks]. I once wrote a website [genre of webpage] to [can't even dance around it] that spawned numerous other [similar webpages]. Mine was first, and the Wayback Machine proves it. My best friend said I was crazy for making [that specific type of page to that specific thing], but the flood of copies proved I’m not… well, either that or there are a lot of other nutcases on the net. Oh, and no, it had nothing to do with bizarre culinary tastes of internet icons.

Incase you haven’t noticed, there are a few [blanks] in this blog. Everything in it is the truth, that’s why I’m a little vague on the specifics. Okay, everything is true, except my last name isn’t Moonlight, but is it really necessary to point that out?

Terrible drawing of a city

I was once asked to write a short piece for [insert semi-famous magazine here] for an article about what people do on an average day. Some of the people were very famous. I am not. I sold my 15 minutes on eBay to an anonymous bidder. (Damn, I should really do that!) My piece was about being the tech for [my domain name] and things I do on the net.

No, I’m not famous. I just leave things out that people I know might find. Not like crazy stalkers, they all know my website. One of my friends is sure I have a blog somewhere. Problem is, I can’t lie. She knows I can’t lie. I’ve never had a good enough memory to be able to lie. I would get caught very, very easily. An hour later, they could ask me the same question, and I’d have no idea what I just told them.

It is very hard to get around answering, “You have a blog somewhere. I know you do.” Luckily, that wasn’t a question, so I answered it with, “You’re crazy. I blogged for years before it was even called blogging. Why would I go back to it now?” Unbelievably, she bought it. If she seriously wanted to know, she’d just ask me directly.

Tablet in tablet in tablet...

While I can’t lie, I can avoid a vague question. If the asker (whatever spellcheck, you don’t recognize the word ‘internet’ either) isn’t paying attention, this will work, and people often aren’t paying close enough attention. However, I find it entirely impossible to lie when the answer is ‘yes’ or ‘no’. I can think the answer I would like to say, but it won’t come out. The truth pops out, and there’s not stopping it. See, that’s the kind of thing I don’t want people who know me to find out. I could be put into awkward situations by anyone armed with that knowledge.

I recently saw a report about children lying. The report said, lying is part of the emotional development of humans. They learn emotions through lying. Learn to judge people’s reactions and guess what the person wants to hear.

If the report was right, look around at your friends. The highly emotional ones, those are the liars. The more reserved, they are the honest ones. Out of four of my friends, this holds true. They are the extremes. My other friends fall somewhere in the middle, not too emotional, not horrible liars. My one friend, who has no idea what truth is, is also the most emotional person I know.

Who says it\'s a weed?

My friends often comment on my… lack of emotions. I’m a little stoic but, oddly, I am also easily amused. So while I may not cry about something they would, they don’t get excited about the silly things I do. I can talk about an unusual bug like I saw the face of God, but that doesn’t count if you don’t cry when your dog gets hit by a car. I didn’t see the point. It wouldn’t bring the dog back. I was more concerned with how I was going to get him home to give him a proper burial. I had to console my friend. “It will be all right. He didn’t even know what hit him.” Everyone thought it was her dog.

Now, I’m afraid I’ve painted myself as a horrible monster who doesn’t care when her dog dies. I did care. I was sad about it, but there were details that needed to be taken care of at that moment. Which would be better, to sit on the curb and cry my eyes out, or get my dog out of the street, home, and buried? It would have been wrong to leave the dog lying there in the street and selfishly cry about it. He was a good dog. He deserved better.

Things That Girls Do 6 April 2008

Posted by Suzi Moonlight in Once.
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The girliest thing I’ve ever done was several thousand years ago. It was not a good thing. I did it very well. I don’t regret it, but I do regret that one person involved never knew my reasons. Horrible, girly, manipulative things don’t work well if you tell those involved your intention.

Boxes of old computers

I really need to point out that I’ve only EVER done anything like this once. I liked the results, but not that I had resorted to it. No one knows I have this blog, so this isn’t an apology. I’ve just never had the chance to explain why I did it.

Japanese Rose in Bloom

I once kissed my boyfriend’s best friend.

Yes, it was only a kiss. That part’s not so bad. As far as terrible things girls can do, it’s a bit minor, but it is the worse I’ve done, and I still consider it pretty bad.

Now for the backstory. Remember that Friends episode where Ross cheated, but said they were, “On a break”? Me and my boyfriend were ‘on a break’. He… hooked up… with a skanky, ‘I’m an aerobics instructor’ chick. She was very proud of the hook-up. She hinted about it in my presence. I’m not good with hints, but I got what she was saying.

After the ‘break’, she moved in with my boyfriend’s best friend. Of course, I still wanted nothing but daggers and dust for her.

My boyfriend went out of town. His friend was having trouble with the girl. He came over to talk to me, ask me what to do. I was suddenly Snidely Whiplash (OMG! I actually spelled that right!). I listened intently to the problems they were having. Quelle surprise! She was slipping out behind his back.

I asked him, as sincerely as I could, if he thought they could work things out. I told him, finally, that he should simply take all of her belongings and toss them out on the lawn of his house. I cared about him. I was looking out for his best interest. Then… I kissed him. It wasn’t a huge makeout session. It was like an underlining of my suggestion. I apologized immediately. It was a mistake. How could I? I really liked [boyfriend's name] and would never do anything to hurt him.

He told his friend – my boyfriend. We had a huge argument about it, but come on, he slept with that girl, so he really couldn’t get too mad.

Flower and unceasing coincidences

It was a bad thing to do. I’ve never done anything like that since. I’d never even consider it. Honestly, I can’t believe I pulled it off. If a guy ever slept with someone while we were ‘on a break’, I’d just call it quits then and save myself the trouble.

But you know what?

He put her stuff out on the lawn.

Once, Once, Once 26 March 2008

Posted by Suzi Moonlight in Once.
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I’m going to get a few onces out of the way. Incase you’re visiting just this page, go here to see what that means.

I once saw Bob Newhart in person. It was like seeing a long-lost uncle, except I pretended I didn’t recognize him. He was at an art exhibit, and I didn’t want to ruin it for him by gushing.

Cute widdly lemur

I once met John Lee Hooker. Well, met him, sold t-shirts for him, got pulled from the crowd to sit on the stage with my mouth agape while he played – all that in reverse order.

I once found a rock with a string tied around it, and everybody wants a rock to tie a piece of string around. I still have it. It amazes and delights me every time I see it.

Vampire

I was once showing my friend a very old picture of my grandmother. My friend looked at the picture, then me, then back to the photo. “Are you wearing the same shirt?” …I was.

I’d like to step aside a second here. No one – NO ONE would have ever worn stone-washed jeans with a Members Only jacket – ever. This did not happen in the 80’s, even though it’s quickly becoming ‘the look’ of the 80’s. Members Only jackets were very early 80’s and stone-washed jeans were late 80’s. If you wore a Members Only jacket in the late 80’s, you were beyond a dork. You would have been laughed at by strangers en mass. Seriously. I hope this doesn’t become the poodle skirts and bobby socks of the 50’s. My mom said no one wore those together. Bobby socks with long, straight skirts, heels with a full skirt – yet it persists.

Since I’ve already drifted away from ‘once’ (but hey! I gave you a bunch up there!), here’s what I’ve been thinking. Wait, here’s what I used to think, first.
I used to think coincidences were like… guides. Coincidences were good. They told you, you were on the right track. If you follow a coincidence, more usually crop up. This would mean they are guiding you in the right direction, right? People even say, ‘I don’t believe in coincidence’ or ‘There’s no such thing as coincidence’ meaning they are things that happen for a reason.

Gir!
I believed that, until about a week ago. I keep getting hit with coincidences – oh, I forgot to mention, I did a series of paintings titled Coincidence. Yeah, four paintings that fit together to make one large painting filled with coincidences. Anyway, so I’m getting all these coincidences, and I was following them. Then I realized, they weren’t leading me to anything. It was more like they were taunting me. “Look at this! Isn’t it amazing? There are more! Keep looking!” …and then an evil laugh. Okay, there was no evil laugh, really, but it would have fit.
I now believe coincidences are the devil’s play-toy. They are a distraction, shoved in your path to lure you into following them, tempting you with more, the more you follow. They are there, solely, to lead you astray.

I feel like a Democrat who just realized the Democrats actually have more money and care less about poor people than the Republicans and are trying to create a dependent, lower class that will keep them in office.

Disillusioned.

That’s the word.