Archive for September 2002

 
 

A girl and her dinner

I exploded my blender today. Yes *sigh* it’s true, “Blendy” the blender is no more. The leek “fronds” were just too much for poor Blendy, try as he might, poor thing. It was horrible in the end really. The white arcing light, smell of melting plastic and his little grinding and burning motor. The most horrible was the plume of slowly wafting white smoke drifting insidiously from under Blendy’s little rubber feet.

(I was going to insert some joke here about terrorism, slowly wafting white smoke and Murphy the dog being in grave danger. Then I decided that it didn’t really go, and could possibly be not funny. I mean, I know your saying to yourself “Geesh, who *doesn’t* think terrorism is funny”, but, you know, I don’t like to go for those cheap laughs)

I had to put little Blendy out on the patio for fear that his insides were still burning. It was bitter sweet when Murphy the dog followed me outside while I took the once lively, now hollow useless white shell of a machine outside and placed it on the cold cement. Murphy looked up at me, with her one good eye, as if to say, “Why? Why?” Then as I gently laid Blendy down, to let the fire run it’s course, Murphy the dog laid down next to that little white trooper. I felt she was protecting the sanctity of Blendy’s remains from the circling vultures and the rouge jackals. A tear welled up in my eye and slowly fell down my cheek as I looked at the two old time friends and knew, deep in my heart, that things would never be the same again.

God speed Blendy.

one less something

I ain’t got nothing to say.

Don’t want to complaining.

Not really ave anything interesting to say.

Don’t feel so good….no, not so bad….but not so good.

Listening to music. Listening, listening, listening to music.

Thinking about doing the dishes.

Thinking about other things.

Not too something.

It’s Friday night.

It’s Friady night.

colour by numbers

take the color quiz.

Your Existing Situation

Acts calmly, with the minimum of upset, in order to handle existing relationships. Likes to feel relaxed and at ease with her associates and those close to her.

Your Stress Sources

Has an unsatisfied need to ally herself with others whose standards are as high as her own, and to stand out from the herd. This desire for preeminence isolates her and inhibits her readiness to give herself freely. While she wants to surrender and let herself go, she regards this as a weakness which must be resisted. This self-restraint, she feels, will lift her above the rank and file and ensure recognition as a unique and distinctive personality.

Your Restrained Characteristics

Willing to participate and to allow herself to become involved, but tries to fend off conflict and disturbance in order to reduce tension.

The situation is preventing her from establishing herself, but she feels she must make the best of things as they are.

Wants to broaden her fields of activity and insists that her hopes and ideas are realistic. Distressed by the fear that she may be prevented from doing what she wants; needs both peaceful conditions and quiet reassurance to restore her confidence.

Your Desired Objective

Has an imperative need for some bond or fusion with another which will prove sensually fulfilling, but which will not conflict with her convictions or sense of fitness.

Your Actual Problem

Greatly impressed by the unique, by originality, and by individuals of outstanding characteristics. Tries to emulate the characteristics she admires and to display originality in her own personality.

mouse spines and dog puke

I just got back from another trip to sister sledge’s in Chicago.
As I walked in the door, Murphy ran to her super size water bowl and drank it all. She did this because ever since the “Austin puking it my lap” incident, I don’t give her food or water for the six hour trip. It makes me feel guilty, but not guilty enough to endure five gallons of stinky puke in my lap.

I went into the living room and noticed two little mouse legs connected to a spine and a tail sitting squarely in the middle of my prinstine blue yoga mat. The cat looked at me, revealing nothing, and I looked at her. As I picked up the carnage with two fingers by the tail and was carrying it to the kitchen, I heard the HACK, AAAACCCCKKKK, ACK of Murphy the dog. This was followed by the sound of a large volume of water being spewed onto the floor.

My mom used to have a saying, and used it often, “if it’s not the kids, it’s the cat”. Mine is similar except substitute “dog” for “kid” and you have a pretty accurate picture of my household.

fairy tales

I read the stories
just like every little girl
that’s child abuse

stolen from jane

conversation with distrubution

Whenever I am in a public place and a “law enforcement professional” comes into my line of vision, I react perceptibly. I usually stop breathing, stand straighter all the while trying to exude an air of being causal and innocent. It’s silly really. I haven’t done anything illegal in years.

Well, at least really “bad” stuff.

*side note: when the “body” (nervous system) holds it’s breath it either has just been hurt, or believes it is going to be hurt. It does this so the brain can calculate where the injury is, and exactly how much oxygen it has to re route to the site of trauma.*

I started thinking about this story because I’m reading “Me Talk Pretty One Day”, by David Sedaris. There’s a short story about his college days and crystal meth usage. It made me cringe and laugh out loud all at the same time.

That’s one reason this story came to mind. That, and also, a big black cop with mirrored sunglasses just walked through the door. For your refrence, I am in a public place. A big black cop with mirrored sunglassed did not just walk in my front door.

I’m thinking of a memorable trip to the airport. I recall standing in line at the United ticket counter with a white plastic bag of cocaine shoved down the front of my pants. At this point I think I had been up for forty eight hours, and although at the time thought I was a picture of poise and grace, I most assuredly was not. The line was exceptionally long and not moving.

In the midst of slightly rocking back and forth and obsessively counting things, I notice a concentrated mass of people walking down the corridor of Detroit Metro Airport. As they get closer, I can tell it is a class of 30 or so school children, their teacher, a very “deliverance”, marine type cop, and his German shepherd drug sniffing dog. The kids were on a field trip touring the airport, and about to receive an educational lecture from officer friendly. They came closer and closer, finally setting up camp thirty feet from where I stood in the ticket line that hadn’t moved in ten minutes.

My already over exhausted, fragile heart, and my neurotic and paranoid condition became exacerbated. My dry mouth got drier. My sweaty palms became claimer. I could not breath. I actually had to have a mini conversation with my lungs to tell them to work, and my heart to slow down.

I tried to devise a strategy while all the while trying to talk myself into remaining calm. I was doing my best to keep a toe hold in reality. “You are on drugs. It is the drugs. This is not really happening the way that you think. steady girl……sssstttttteeeeeaaaddddyyyy”

The dog sat quietly on the floor and yawned. Why, why did it do that? Was it trying to communicate to me? Was this dog telling me that it was on to my one girl smuggling operation? This dog must be some cyber/psychic hybrid. I will be stuck in this line for what… fifteen…. twenty…. thirty…. minutes more, and this freaking dog is teasing me with it’s nonchalance? It knew the truth about my underpants, and was going to wait to pounce, torturously mocking me the whole time. That yawn was just to show me how sharp it’s teeth really were.

Okay…okayokayokay….look at the dog in the eye. Stare at the dog….show the dog that you know that it knows, but you don’t care because YOU are the alpha dog. I am the alpha dog. OH GOD…. ohgodohgodohgod….. don’t stare at the dog. Look away, look away from the dog. Look at the floor, your shoe the ceiling…but do not….do not look at the dog.

The line moves forward three feet. I swallow with a dry throat.

A few years ago, I had a friend that related a story about her brother driving home at three in the morning high out of his mind on crack. On the empty expressway, he drove by a police car. They didn’t turn on the lights, drive behind him or make any move whatsoever. For five miles he thought about his life, what he had done to it, how bad he felt. Actually, my friend didn’t tell me that, I’m just inferring because at about the five mile point he turned the car around so that he was driving the wrong way down the expressway. He drove all the way back to the officer’s to tell them that he was high on crack, and that he was sorry.

I laughed along with everybody at the absurdity of the story, but I knew in my heart exactly how that guy felt.
This damn dog, with his damn interrogation doggy eyes, coupled with my guilt was breaking me down.

Fortunately, there is no dramatic ending to this story. The line moved along and eventually I got my ticket and left the scene. I feel that I should end this with more of a snazzy ending. End it with some sort of moral or happy, uplifting paragraph about how I learned from that day and it changed my life. But I won’t. I mean, I did eventually learn and my life changed, but not just then.

Had the dog broken free from his leash, charged me full on, and sank his fangs in to my crotch….that might have been a completely different story altogether.

41516

you know the one of the ending scenes in Blade Runner where Rutger Hauer saves Harrison Ford by pulling him up over the ledge he was hanging off of with one hand. Then he sits down with an air of sadness and resignation and describes some of the amazing things he’s seen and laments that all those things will be lost now. Then comes the slow motion camera action in the rain and the white dove flying up to the sky to signify to the viewer that….yeah, he’s dead now.

Remember that?

Well, this link isn’t that. But it’s definitely something

why do you want to foster my craziness???

Here’s a better definition of why TUMS suck / why oesteoperosis is at epidemic proportions.

What is the Chalk in your Cereal?

Calcium Carbonate (chemical formula, CaCO3)

Calcium carbonate is found in many fortified foods and food supplements.

Just go to your cupboard and read the label of your vitamin and mineral supplement. Chances are it contains calcium carbonate. So what? Calcium carbonate does not dissolve in water. And? Well, are you getting enough calcium, as the TV commercial asks? Or are you getting a lot of calcium carbonate — the main ingredient of common blackboard chalk?
Don’t believe me? Check for yourself. Go to your child’s encyclopedia and look up “chalk” and “calcium carbonate” for yourself. Then take another look at the fine print on your favorite dietary supplement or box of cereal. It says the same thing. Calcium Carbonate. Tell me if I’m wrong. I guess it’s alright to eat. I mean after all it is approved by the U.S. Food and Drug Administration or the Department of Redundancy Department or who ever approves this stuff. I’m sure it’s alright to eat. I guess we all do.

My point is that Calcium Carbonate is not Calcium. What are bodies require are minerals that are an angstrom in size, are water soluble, and ionic. These are the characteristics of how plants deliver nutrients. When minerals are delivered in a form that is an angstrom in size, is ionic and water soluble, then the minerals can easily permeate the cell membrane through the process of osmosis

Here is some information about pasteurization. In my research, I have found that not only is there heat pasteurization, but also gamma irradiation pasteurization. I don’t know how wide spread the irradiation technique is. But from what I understand (and I may not be 100% right) gamma radiation is how a microwave oven cooks food. Don’t get me started on microwaves…I threw mine out six months ago.

Raw Milk Is The Only Healthy Milk, Why Has It Been Outlawed?Ê
by Nutritionist Aajonus Vonderplanitz and Retired Raw Dairy Farmer Carlet Hoff

Pasteurizing milk, which is the process of cooking milk at a minimum 155 degrees F. for at least 15 seconds, gained popularity when farmers didn’t have the technology to produce, package and deliver all their raw milk fresh. Pasteurization LENGTHENED the SHELF LIFE of milk. Suddenly, farmers were able to hold and transport their milk instead of dumping it or feeding it to the hogs. Until then the primary focus of milk was that it was a healthful food. With pasteurization, milk became a commodity, an economic issue, that generated Hollywood-like unscientific horror stories about raw milk spreading diseases.

For years health-minded individuals, teachers, professors, politicians and even doctors fought the battle against pasteurization of milk because of the obvious weakening effects it had on humans and animals who were fed pasteurized milk. The destruction of the nutritional properties was evident in the results. Early in the battle, several countries outlawed the feeding of pasteurized milk to infants. Not only does pasteurization destroy the major proportion of vitamins, enzymes and minerals, it creates contaminants, such as transitional lipid oxides and protein toxins. Pasteurized milk cannot maintain the biological antibodies and enzymes present in raw milk, some of which can prevent a large variety of diseases, including cancer.

And since I’m on a roll…here’s more insane rantings.

What Started Pasteurization?Ê
by Nutritionist Aajonus Vonderplanitz

A French crystal-chemist by the name of Louis Pasteur, who was born in 1822 and died in 1895, suddenly became famous because he saved the wine and beer industries from devastation. During a period in Europe when molds were affecting wine crops, Pasteur invented a heat process that saved the wine from complete financial failure. By heat processing, he stopped the fermentation and growth of molds in wine, thereby preserving much of the taste, although low quality, and lengthening the shelf life. Pasteur extended this process to the beer industry. Louis Pasteur derived his livelihood from the sale of wines and beer. Pasteur was neither a doctor or biochemist. He was given an honorary doctorate to make popular the false allopathic theory that shouted:Ê Disease is the result of bacteria. On his death-bed, Pasteur confessed that his and the allopathic bacteria theory was all wrong and that disease was the result of a toxic environment; bacteria were simply the symptom of degenerative tissue and a healthful response of the body to remove the degenerative tissue.

Later, the dairy companies found that they could do the same thing with milk that was due to sour.Ê Thus, increasing their profits, by making it possible for them to sell a product that would become less desirable. Less desirable not because soured milk is bad or harmful, but less desirable because mixing it with other foods made everything taste like soured milk. Raw milk never putrefies, it only sours, as in digestion. Pasteurized milk, however, putrefies.

By 1935, an official in a small dairy in a small town in Minnesota, saw the potential of a scheme to curb the market in milk sales. His name was George Pushing, who said, “We can buy the milk that dairy farmers cannot sell by themselves, and by applying heat at a 155 degrees Fahrenheit, even reject milk, will keep for two weeks.” He was appointed milk inspector, a great conflict of interest. From drinking his pasteurized milk, later in his life he contracted rheumatoid arthritis, a degenerative disease, that manifested itself in his spine.

George Pushing, confided in Carlet Hoff, that he learned of that “x-ingredient” in RAW milk, that could have prevented rheumatoid arthritis. Before Pushing died, he admitted that the heat process was only an economic ploy to curb the milk market.Ê Little did he know, that the very purpose for his job backfired in a very devastating manner. There are many degenerative diseases attributable to the lack of vitamins and minerals. Heat treatment causes many conditions including Lactose intolerance, indigestion and colonary malfunctions.

Oh what the hell….I’ll include the microwave article anyway. If I’m going to be a wing nut…I might as well be a wing nut.

By Larry Cook

If you have ever wondered whether or not microwaved food is safe, here’s an experiment you can do at home. Plant seeds in two pots. Water one pot with water that has been microwaved, the other with regular tap. The seeds that received microwaved water won’t sprout. If microwaved water can stop plants from growing, think of what microwaved food can do to your health!

In 1989, Swiss biologist and food scientist Dr. Hans Hertel studied the effects of microwaved food. Eight people participated in the study. For eight weeks, they lived in a controlled environment and intermittently ate raw foods, conventionally cooked foods and microwaved foods. Blood samples were tested after each meal. They discovered that eating microwaved food, over time, causes significant changes in blood chemistry:1 a decrease in hemoglobin and cholesterol values, in the HDL (good cholesterol) versus LDL (bad cholesterol) ratio and in white blood cells, weakening the immune system, and an increase in leukocyte levels, which tends to indicate poisoning and cell damage.

Overall, the study suggested that eating microwaved foods can cause degenerative diseases and/or cancer.2 “The measurable effects on man through the ingestion of microwaved food, unlike untreated food, are blood alterations, that can also be found at the beginning of a pathological condition, also indicative of a beginning cancerous process,” wrote Dr. Bernard Blanc, who assisted in the study.3
Microwave ovens “cook” food by forcing the atoms, molecules and cells within the food to reverse polarity billions of times per second, causing friction-the more the friction, the more the heat. This oscillation tears and deforms the molecular structure of food. New compounds are formed, called radiolytic compounds, which are not found in nature.

Interestingly, microwaves are actually used in gene-altering technology to deliberately break cells and neutralize their “life-force” so they can be manipulated. Microwaves destroy the life-force that gives food its vitality and nourishment. When this life-force dissipates, microorganisms start breaking food down and it begins to rot.

In early 1991, a lawsuit was filed against an Oklahoma hospital because a patient died form receiving a microwaved blood transfusion. Hospitals routinely heat blood for transfusion, but not in a microwave.

The effects of microwaving breast milk have also been researched. John Kerner, M.D. and Richard Quin, M.D. from Stanford University said that “Microwaving human milk, even at a low setting, can destroy some of its important disease-fighting capabilities.”4 After more research, Kerner wrote in the April 1992 issue of Pediatrics that “Microwaving itself may in fact cause some injury to the milk above and beyond the heating.” And a radio announcement at the University of Minnesota said that “Microwavesare not recommended for heating a baby’s bottle. Heating the bottle in a microwave can cause slight changes in the milk. In infant formulas there may be a loss of some vitamins. In expressed milk, some protective properties may be destroyed.”5 Another study in Vienna warned that microwaving breast milk “can lead to structural, functional and immunological changes,” and that microwaves transform the amino acid L-proline into D-proline, a proven toxin to the nervous system, liver and kidneys.6

In Russia, microwave ovens were banned in 1976 because of their negative health consequences and many studies were conducted on their use. Here are some of their findings on microwaving food:
1. Microwaved foods lose 60-90% of the vital-energy field and microwaving accelerates the structural disintegration of foods.
2. Microwaving creates cancer-causing agents within milk and cereals
3. Microwaving alters elemental food-substances, causing digestive disorders
4. Microwaving alters food chemistry which can lead to malfunctions in the lymphatic system and degeneration of the body’s ability to protect itself against cancerous growths
5. Microwaved foods lead to a higher percentage of cancerous cells in the bloodstream
6. Microwaving altered the breakdown of elemental substances when raw, cooked, or frozen vegetables were exposed for even a very short time and free radicals were formed
7. Microwaved foods caused stomach and intestinal cancerous growths, a general degeneration of peripheral cellular tissues, and a gradual breakdown of the digestive and excretive systems in a statistically high percentage of people
8. Microwaved foods lowered the body’s ability of the body to utilize B-complex vitamins, Vitamin C, Vitamin E, essential minerals and lipotropics.
9. The microwave field next to a microwave oven caused a slew of health problems as well.7
Aside form these studies, many people find that microwaving their food doesn’t help them feel good. Stephanie Relfe, Kinesiologist, found herself feeling “grey and rather low” one day and discovered that she had inadvertently eaten microwaved food at a restaurant.8 In her practice, she found that all of her patients gave body signals of having allergic reactions to microwaved foods. Another Kinesiologist, David Bridgeman, said, “Of all the people I test for allergies, 99.9% so far show severe sensitivity to any microwaved food.”

In conclusion then, the safest way to heat your food is to use your stove top and throw away your microwave!

AND ANOTHER VERY IMPORTANT THING!!!! I have been given differing information on exactly how many stomachs a cow has. I read ” a calf has four stomachs”. In another account I read that “a cow has six stomachs”. I know I was never very good at biology, but I don’t think a cow grows two stomachs from calfdom to cowdom.

won’t you come and sing with me?

For each letter, write the first thing that comes to mind -

a. anathema
b. bongo
c. cindigo
d. dog
e. equine
f. fuckoff
g. genius
h. hot head (hi Cass..don’t you feel important that you’re in my subconscious mind? Right next to genius no less.)
i. industrial
j. Jacob’s ladder
k. Kim (*see H…..same props to Kimberly sue)
l. lima bean
m. Marilyn
n. navy bean (I’ve been very into the “bean” proteins lately)
o. ocean
p. patio
q. quack
r. red rock
s. starving
t. toothless
u. unbelievable
v. vaccine
w. without
x. x-ray
y. yolk
z. zephyr

This alphabet test has disturbed me…..

volume, power, headphones

I had school all day and night yesterday. We learned a little bit about cranial sacral therapy. I would go into it, but as always, I don’t because I get maniacal and intense and I think most people find it boring.

Generally I find, people like these things to be done to them, but not really talked about to them in depth. I can understand. I feel the same way when my car mechanic tries to explain all of the intricacies and possible causes for why my engine hesitates when I step on the gas pedal. I get that same glazed far off look in my eye and feel like I want him to stop talking and fix my car. He’s the expert, that’s what I pay him for. At least when I’m tired and not patient, that’s how I feel. Most of the time I really do try and listen because, one, it’s probably in my best interest, and two, I love to listen to passionate people, no matter what the subject.

When I came home at eleven pm, I was exhausted. I laid down on my futon, clothes, shoes, contacts and all, folded my knees into my chest, and promptly fell asleep for the next eleven hours.

Sleeping on my futon is a great experience mostly because the top of the futon is level with the window sill. When I curl up in half, I am almost the exact size of the width of the window. This means, when I am sleeping with the window open, it feels like I am outside, sleeping in the middle of my wisteria bush. I like it very much. The sounds of crickets, the wind in the trees, fresh air, with out bug bites and getting dirty is nice to go to sleep to.

It’s funny I now have two bedrooms, since the massage room I never did massages in became the second bedroom. Funny meaning “ha ha”, and funny meaning “that’s weird”. I feel very decadent. Sometimes I consult with the animals and ask them which bedroom they would prefer to sleep in at night. Usually, they pick one, and I get the other one. I really hope this isn’t the start of “crazy old lady syndrome”. Crazy like if somehow I obtain millions of dollars and will it to my animals so they can eat out of crystal goblets and sleep on a king size Mexican pine bed. Well, the Mexican pine bed is already a reality. But that’s only by default, not specific instruction to ensure the comfort and well being of my spoiled and needy pets.

And anyway, who wants to sleep on the Mexican pine bed with that damn window fan blowing dead mosquitoes all over the place.

My plan was to get a room mate. But I keep pushing that plan back on my list of priorities. It could be a good thing or a bad thing. I figure if I’m supposed to have a room mate….one will show up somewhere. See, that damn massage school is turning me into more of a spiritual kook every day.

“Oh great spirit, master of heaven and earth, whatever your will for me, so shall it be”.

Damn massage school.

DON’T DRINK COWS MILK
UNPLUG YOUR MICROWAVE
DRINK MORE WATER
TAKE VITAMINS
BUY ORGANIC FOOD
STRETCH AND EXCERSIZE

Damn massage school.

yo tengo bailar con el cappicuno

Written September 2002:

Sometimes I feel like “That Darn Cat”. At least I think that’s the movie. All I recall is a cat that is followed around on it’s daily routine….to the butcher shop, an old lady’s back porch….and other such places. Every place the cat goes is like a separate little world. I think about that sometimes when I go to my usual places and visit my usual suspects every day.

Today I went to Starbucks….one of those places I go every day, sometimes twice. They give me free coffee. Today, some sort of hispanic salsa-ey, drum/horn music was playing. Normally, I cannot stand the sound of horns. Today for some reason, my toes were tapping. I got up to the register put one hand flat on my belly, the other hand off to my side in the air and started salsa dancing. Leann, my “friend” behind the register, untied her green Starbuck’s apron and began rotating the strings in circles in time to the music. Nicole, my other “friend” who was behind the espresso machine, picked up two chrome milk pitchers and began dancing circles.

Leann at the register looked at me, said my drink name that I always drink with a question at the end, as in, “do you want this?. I nodded my head and salsa danced over to the drink pick up area.

It was five minutes out of today that made me smile a little more.

one more thing….just what the world needs…..another narsisistic quiz

name = cindigodotcom
birthday = May 15,1971
piercing = ears and nose, but the nose hole has since closed over after a short but painful jewelry drama.
tattoos = three
height = 5′3″
shoe size = 9 ( I like Rocket Dog and John Fleuevog…in case your planning a Christmas present)
hair color = red, orange, dark red and blond
length = choppy, messy below my ears and above my shoulders
pets = Murphy the dog, Toonces the cat. Urchey the sea urchin, jerky the mean fish with feet, crabby the crab and snaliy the snail. There’s shrimpy the shrimp too, but I haven’t seen him in months….I fear the worst.
last…
movie you rented = Queen of the Damned and Blade Runner
movie you bought = Roger Auckland’s Video Atlas of Human Anatomy….WOW! what a thriller.
song you listened to = Some lame ass yanni crap with birds, water and whale noise.
song that was stuck in your head = “Say My Name” — Destiny’s Child
song you’ve downloaded = “Nyja Lagif” — Sigur Ros
cd you bought = Charlie Sexton — Pictures For Pleasure
cd you listened to = Synaesthetic — Future Rythms
person you’ve called = my mom
person that’s called you = Rob
tv show you’ve watched = I don’t remember
person you were thinking of: Pam

Do……

you have a crush on someone? = wouldn’t you like to know.
you wish you could live somewhere else = YES.
you think about suicide = Not any more.
you believe in online dating = Does anyone believe in online dating? Like as in meeting people online, or just dating them on line. If meeting people online….I’m all for it.
others find you attractive = they don’t call me hotty McHot hot for nothing….oh wait, they don’t call me that do they.
you want more piercing = Yes, but they’re too painful and don’t heal well. So in theory, yes.
you want more tattoos = Yes….but not for a long time.
you drink = occasionally.
you do drugs = No.
you smoke = No.
you like cleaning = Sometimes.
you like roller coasters = not really.
you write in cursive or print = mostly cursive, but sometimes I print.
you carry a donor card = I don’t, and I should.

for or against…

long distance relationships
= against
using someone = depends what they are being used for. I am for using someone to test the fluffiness of my couch. I am against using someone for a parking block.
suicide = Depends on the person or the situation. The Back Street Boys….for, the guy sitting on a bench eating a hamburger….against.
killing people = I am for killing some people, against killing others. This determination is made solely on the amount of sugar I have consumed on any given day.
teenage smoking = I would never smoke a teenager.
doing drugs = I’m not against anything anyone wants to do to themselves.
premarital sex = against!!!!!! and that is why I remain a virgin.
driving drunk = How drunk and where are you driving?
gay/lesbian relationships = Yes, all gays and lesbians should pretend they are straight and live a life of quiet desperation like the rest of us.
soap operas = neutral, unless they are Spanish, then I am for them.
favorite…
food = sushi
song = anything by Yanni, or anything that includes bird, whale, or the sound of rushing water.
thing to do = read and write…..no arithmetic……don’t like the math…it hurts my little head.
thing to talk about = Well, there’s me, of course. What I’m doing. What I like. What I’m thinking. But then there’s always you, I like to talk about you too.
sports = midget tossing.
drinks = water on a daily basis….if were talking about *drinks* usually gin and tonic.
clothes = pair of black Capri cotton jersey pants things with a pink drawstring and pink stitching down the side worn with either a black t-shirt, my pink fake-o girls baseball team t-shirt with the sleeves cut off and a cut in the neck held together with safety pins or my really old, small pink iron-on Debby Harry t-shirt.
movies = so many….too many
band = Le Tigre….but how can I really pick.
holiday = none
car = anything that flies

have you…

ever cried over a girl = Yes.
ever cried over a boy = Yes.
ever lied to someone = No….oh wait, that’s a lie….Yes.
ever been in a fist fight = Yes.
ever been arrested = No.

what…

shampoo do you use = Bumble and Bumble
cologne = Happy by Clinique
shoes do you wear = at the moment I am wearing black socks with white toes.
are you scared of = Losing my mind
of times I have been in love? = One and a half
of times I have had my heart broken? = a million, but cut completely in half…twice.
of hearts I have broken? = I’m sure thousands….hundreds???? dozens??? some???? a couple????
of boys I have kissed? = eight….but I’m sure that isn’t right.
of girls I have kissed? = Three.
of men I’ve slept with? = How could I have slept with anyone if I’m still a virgin….silly?
of girls I’ve slept with? = Like *slept* as in, I’m sleeping, goodnight, REM type thing? No????…..hmmmm. I’m not sure as to what the official definition of *sleep* with is, so I’ll just skip this question.
of continents I have lived in? = One….two if you count Cindimania
of drugs taken illegally? = six
of people I would classify as true, could trust with my life type of people? = zero.
of people I consider my enemies? = I am my only enemy.
of people from high school that I stayed in contact with? = one…no wait…two.
of cd’s that I own? = I have no idea. But I left a huge folio of them at my last job and never went back to get them.
of times my name has appeared in the newspaper? = millions….cindigo dot com is an international phenomena.
of scars on my body? = At least eight
of things in my past that I regret? = None.

40265

invalid text coding….will not allow correction of ???? and spacing….just so you know.

love your neighbor…..

These are the results of the calculations by Dr. Love:
cindigo + cindigo
Ê
Ê 62 % Ê

Dr. Love thinks that a relationship between cindigo and cindigo has a reasonable chance of working out, but on the other hand, it might not. Your relationship may suffer good and bad times. If things might not be working out as you would like them to, do not hesitate to talk about it with the person involved. Spend time together, talk with each other.

L O V E C A L C U L A T O R

39762

Here is a note from my good friend vyvyanbasterd . The internet drama continues…..

Had a chat with our friend, “x tragic tragedy” today. Long story short, he is
in my confidence now. I also have access to his OTHER IM screen name. We
need to decide what we will do with it. He seems unrepentent, but all kinds
of hell broke out with the sending ISP. Here’s a snippet:

VyvyanBasterdJC: On a serious note, however, I think you actually creeped out
a lot of girls. That could be both good and bad.
x Tragic tragedy: well, i think the ones gullible enough to believe it deserve
to be freaked out
x Tragic tragedy: c’est la vie
VyvyanBasterdJC: “You can never be gullible enough” - Principia Discordia
[NOTE TO CINDIGO: This is not actually a quote from the Principia Discordia]
VyvyanBasterdJC: Yup.
VyvyanBasterdJC: So no regret? Did your ISP shit itself a brick?
x Tragic tragedy: well, mine didn’t
x Tragic tragedy: but the person who actually sent the mail’s did
VyvyanBasterdJC: Aha. Too many responses?
x Tragic tragedy: yeah
x Tragic tragedy: he lost his web hosting briefly
VyvyanBasterdJC: Were there any repurcussions, besides the sound of millions
of teenage hearts shattering across the globe?
x Tragic tragedy: nope
x Tragic tragedy: of course, i may take it further
x Tragic tragedy: it wasn’t nearly as hard as many people think

Anyway, give me some feedback on what should be done.

Comments…..suggestions?

fake alert (woop, woop,woop…weeeeoohhhhhwwweeeohhhhh!!!)

I got this email this morning. At first I thought it was sweet and even though not interested, felt like one hot potato. Then I started thinking about it, and there were just too many points leading to FAKE.

Background information: www.makeoutclub.com is a site where a million Indy kids put up their profile and talk about music. I wanted to “be in the know”. Since I am now old and decrepit, this was a better avenue than hanging out at clubs, grabbing kids with stickers on the back of their jackets and messenger bags while saying, “what’s that band?”.

To: MOC powers that be,

I just wanted to let you know that I received this email.

hey,

I looked at your profile on moc, just wanted to say i think you’re really beautiful and i dug your profile. i’ve been thinking about emailing you for a while, i was kind of nervous cause i didn’t know what you’d think.

my name is chris and i have some pictures up at www.robotskull.com/chris . i’m kind of a scenester dork lol, but not really. i’m in a band in we play mostly punk stuff and i play the guitar. i’m 18, if you can’t tell from those pics :)
anyway, this might sound kind of weird but i wanted to know if you might be interested in sexual talks,like cyber sex i guess. not a lot of girls are real open with that, but i’ve been thinking about you for a while and it’s always really turned me on and i wanted to take my chance *blush*

my aim screename is xtragictragedy or you can email me back, maybe with a few more pictures of yourself? if you don’t really want to talk dirty that’s okay, we can just chat. you’ve just made me really horny in the past and i wanted to return that. so what do you think?

anyway, write me back and peace
Chris

There is no aim screen name or email address listed on MOC to go with this person. “Chris” also says he “dug my profile”, and I don’t really have one up….which makes me even more suspicious. If it’s legitimate, it’s not a problem for me….but I don’t think it is, and I don’t think this is what you intended people to do with the info on your site.

Come on “xtragictragedy”….could you be any more contrived? Well maybe you could….who am I to say.

I’ve gotten a good share of emails from eighteen year old indy kids, and this one just seems a little too crafty to be real. Every email that I’ve ever received from MOC mentions my “cool” website, what bands they are into, and a reference to their profile on MOC. “Chris” made no mention of any of these things.

If this is fraudulent, I just don’t want any of my slightly more innocent and trusting sista’s getting themselves into trouble.

So, check it out, and please let me know if you come up with anything that points to legitimate or otherwise.

Thanks,
Cindigodotcom

2002 at a glance

sometimes, when I’m having a “low self-esteem day”. I think my journal entries sound like this.

Today really isn’t one of those days. I’ll let you know. You know I always do.

I “stole”, the phrase “low self-esteem day” from a girl I barely know. I was sitting a chair in the student clinic after finishing with a client. A girl from my class was sitting next to me. We both had clipboards and papers and were writing notes on them quietly. Out of the blue, she turned to me and said, “I’m having a low self-esteem day”. I didn’t have a response, so I raised an eyebrow, tilted my head and nodded slowly in sympathy.

This afternoon I went out for lunch. I do this almost every day. Lately, three times a day. I was in line waiting to pay my bill. There was a little girl, about four or five in front of me with her mom. The girl was standing at her mom’s side while mom was handing a credit card and the bill over to the cashier. The front of the structure the register was sitting on, and the cashier was standing behind, was glass. Behind the glass lay multitudes of every candy imaginable to a little girl.

The girl had both hands and half of her face pressed to the glass. She said, “Mom, Mom, Mom”, excited but trying to sound casual. “Look at this one Mom. It’s chocolate. Chocolate is really good.” The angle here being, Mom also thinks chocolate tastes good and by calling attention to this fact, Mom might say, “Wow, daughter, you are very smart. Chocolate IS good. Why don’t I buy some for you.” Of course, this was not mom’s response. Mom’s response, was a distracted “no, sweetie” as she was taking care of the check.

Then the girl tried the direct approach. “Mom, can I have a sucker. I like apple suckers.” Mom’s response as she finished signing the receipt. “Honey, Grandma will give you candy tonight at church. We have to go Stephanie. Come on.” Mother walks towards the exit. She gets to the door. Stephanie is still standing with one hand on the glass. The mother turns to Stephanie and says in that stern I’m-a-mom-I-mean-it voice, “Let’s go”.

Stephanie then stiffened up her body and pouted out her bottom lip. She began marching towards her mother in a fashion that was reminiscent of the third Reich. With every swing of her arms or step of her foot, came another syllable shouted at almost the top of her voice. “I WANT CAN-DY, I WANT CAN-DY, I WANT CAN-DY!” The mom stood at the door with a look of half amusement and half annoyance. All she said was “Stephanie” while she was sighing. She held open the door, while Stephanie marched into the parking lot.