Delor.es.Defacto

You're not hopeless or helpless



Well it's about time I updated around here. There's a new version of Wordpress that I have yet to install (even though the numbers "3.3" are very intriguing.)

I just haven't felt like posting in here for a while. It seems these posts are getting done weekly but I've overstepped that mark. I was going to post something for Valentine's Day but the weekend showed up with some things to do, making me totally wiped out, so on our President's Day, I'm able to feel like it's sort of a weekday and sort of a good day to list my personal info as of late.







On Valentine's Day, I went to dinner with my parents (which isn't so tragic seeing as that chick from Heroes did the same thing and didn't go on a date with that hot guy from the Fergie video instead.) I went shopping for something to wear for the next day (an interview) and picked up a $5 skirt, a $15 sweater and a $12 pair of shoes. Not bad. I washed a bunch of my black clothes as well, just in case I wasn't happy with my first choice in outfits (which is generally the case.) I watched Lost by myself because Fran was at choir practice. I had predicted that Sayid was one of the "Oceanic Six" and won that bet last Thursday. Now we'll see if my prediction that Jin will be the one to die this season, leaving the "Six" to be: Jack, Kate, Hurley, Sayid, Saywer and Locke.

On Friday morning I went on an interview for a little office assistant's job. (I decided on my Sketcher's instead of the new shoes. I just can't do heels anymore unless absolutely necessary.) The interview was for the library computer databases for the public school, housed at the university. Something I could totally do but Lord knows if this will pan out. They called and left a message before I got home about one of my references (so maybe that's a good thing). I left a message back, explaining that she was my assistant principal at my old school and left the number. Now, we'll see what she has to say I guess. If they call me either way, I'll ask about it. I'm dying of curiosity. I would just love to know if that Gossip Girl theme is still running rampant over there or if they've finally gotten sick of picking on me like I'm a 14 year old band geek. Sigh... I wonder how long that past will plague me.

After my interview I went to Barnes & Noble finally and spent a long time decided what to get with my Valentine's cash (since I'm on a diet now, this is what I asked for over chocolate.) After picking up and putting back, I finally settled on $40 worth of books and a Vogue magazine. (It has Kate Bosworth on the cover. I bought it to encourage my calorie counting and desire to be pretty enough to score Orlando Bloom. Just something to fret myself over until I have other things to thing about. Right now, that's all I have, which is annoying, because now I'm getting more in the mindset of, "average girls like me shouldn't even bother trying to be pretty...it'll never turn out this well." Sigh...)

After my book shopping trip, I decided to stop at Target to look, specifically, for notebooks. I've resolved my obsession to a specific element: one subject, wide ruled. They're simple and cheap and I can mess them up all I want without feeling some guilt for ruining those pretty $30 leather bound journals that I kept trying to use. Yes, I'm sure this is some weird personality defect but it works for me so I go with it. Now I have a single objective in every stationary section of each store. But of course, my being hyper-focus got shattered when this man my father's age decided to chat with me about his notebook preference. Now, being raised to be courteous and empathetic and to take into account that he probably just wanted someone to talk to and, I, like my mother, in that round-faced, friendly demeanor, got pick out to be the one this guy decided to talk to. So there I was, trying to be polite, in my new $5 English tweed skirt and black sweater, looking at the Pirates of the Caribbean notebooks, this guy told me all about how he likes to use the plain notebooks with the perforated edges so he can write out all of his bill payments, rip the page out, put it in his pocket, and then go to the bank. After a while, I tried to not making direct eye contact routine and utter the "uh-huh"s every so often so he'd get the idea that this was his time to get what he needed, stop talking to me and, more importantly, get out of my way because he was standing there in front of the notebooks with his cart. He did not get the idea. (Why is it that when you try to ignore someone, it gives them a sign to keep bugging you instead of getting the picture that being cordial and being interested are two separate entities. Ah Morrissey, you were so right; "The more you ignore me, the closer I get, you're wasting your time.") After a few minutes of his prattling on, a woman, his wife apparently, disabled with an electronic scooter and oxygen mask, comes in the aisle and starts bitching at him for wanting to buy something silly like a notebook when she had plenty at home that he could use. And for at least ten minutes they went on and on, back and forth, yelling at each other with, "You don't need that, put it back." "But it's just a dollar." "No, put it back." "I can't have something that's for a dollar?" "No, put it back!" WTF? And this whole time, I'm standing there as the guy is looking at me for some reaction while I try to look around the guy. Most people would have finally said, "For the love of God, get the hell out of my way!" But I waited it out. If they had been cute and old, and the argument had lasted for a second, it would have been amusing. But this was just ridiculous and this wimpy guy who picked any nice looking female to talk to, had to finally throw his $1 purchase back on the shelf when his wife threatened him with, "Fine, then don't talk to me for the rest of the day!" If there are reasons to not get married, that's one right there. I refuse to end up some annoying couple who brings attention to themselves in any way possible in any public place because they're so in to fighting with each other as they do at home. Sheesh.

I left annoyed by the incident and the fact that my comfortable shopping trip was interrupted. I went to my parents', talked to Mom for a bit and then went back home to take another nap.

So Saturday morning I had to get up early again to take the car for it's first and last transmission fluid flush. Now, may I remind you that it is 9AM on a Saturday morning and this procedure, without interruption, would take at least 3 hours, making the estimated call back time to be noon. By noon I was asleep again (I just could not get myself awake for two days) and there was a message simply saying for me to call them back. No, "you can pick up your car now." No "there was a problem and the full service couldn't be given." Nothing other than, "call back." So by the time I called back at one o'clock, the main office said the service center was closed. What? I asked how, on a three day weekend, am I suppose to pick up my car when they're closed. The main office said, "Well, if it's done, you can come and get it." No idea if it was done or not but I drove over there, annoyed and ready to raise hell (being a woman in a hormonal rage is really something to marvel at; men just can never understand) and reported to the first person I saw sitting at a desk that I needed my car. So, some nice old salesman takes me to the service department, says that my bill is only for half of what I anticipated (which is good but it means something was wrong and they didn't do what they intended) and I was given back my key. But I had to leave it there because I had my mother's car and instead of Dad taking her to meet me there, I had to drive all the way across town, pick Mom up, drive back to the dealership, pick up the car, arrange all of my CDs (yes, I put them in my bag for that whole day, just in case I needed all of them) and headed back home, back across town. I hate taking the car to get worked on. It's one of the most annoying tasks on the planet. I've also vowed to never take something for an appointment on a Saturday because everything closes early. Last time I tried this was when the cat had an appointment to get his shots at 12:15 and they closed at one. By the time I got there, like 15 minutes late, they reported that they were ready to close and I would have to make another appointment. After those two days, I stayed in bed for the remainder of Saturday night, watching old, Southern, chick flicks (Steel Magnolias and Fried Green Tomatoes, specifically; personal, favorite classics that I've seen a million times since I was in high school. Speaking of which, Gone with the Wind is on again tonight; my favorite of all time!)

Sunday, yesterday, was less than eventful. I was tired and groggy all day and didn't go anywhere until later in the day when I went to my parents' for dinner. I could have gone to the store because I need more low calorie snacks (because I've eaten all of what I originally had all ready.) But that will have to wait until late tonight or tomorrow. I did, however, update my Flickr page and put up some more Florida, urban, random pictures in my album.

This morning, I got up at nine something and then watched Sunset Blvd. in its entirety for the first time. I decided that in order to make a good story, it has to be a tragic telling of the main character after their death. For example: American Beauty, The End of the Affair and Atonement to name a few.

Now I'm sitting here, trying to update this blog, trying to decide which of the many around the apartment tasks I want to get to first and trying to get started going on the books I have to read for my class. I've talked to my professor and he said it's fine for me to want to try my hand at the simplistic prose so he gave me some book suggestions. One of the things I have to do is go to the library and pick up the six books I have waiting for me that I put on hold last week. I thought the library would be closed today but I guess the President's Day isn't as sacred anymore. Hhmm.

And finally, I'm still not over this recent picture from The Raconteurs' blog. Apparently I'm not the only The Raconteurs profile dark haired girl who would love to take a turn with that boy. Damn. He's so freaking cute. Too bad there are only a privileged few who can be a supermodel in the platinum ring. One day I'm going to write an essay entitled "Karen Elson, Why Can't I Be You?" :-/

I think I need to go back to my feminist novels. I'm starting to perpetuate the self loathing that the entertainment industry wants girls to have. Freaking sucks. Oh well, at least the ones who sit at a desk, working alone can have some consolation that they're more needed for their mind than their looks. (Or whatever the hell it is that we tell ourselves these days.)





"An example of what?"

"An example of writing. An example of how someone of your station and your generation and your origins writes. An instance."

"An instance? Am I allowed a word of protest? After all the effort I put into not writing like anyone else?"


Elizabeth Costello by J.M. Coetzee



Photo credit: deloresdefacto



http://www.deloresdefacto.com/?p=68

I will replace the noise with silence instead




Let me get back to the basics here and finally update.


I started a post last week, then the Heath Ledger thing happened and the next few days were just weird. I wasn't in the mood to post and I wasn't in the mood to try to find something interesting to write about. Hence, no post.


I was going to talk about how my Ex's brother started hitting on me on AIM that same day and how I was appalled that someone could get that delusional that they would go as far as to even think of trying to get me to go out with them when I'd known them for 15 years and use to be in a relationship with his older brother, hence making my Ex's little brother, my pseudo little brother at the time. Weird as hell and not that important in the long run but it was the only material in my life worth writing about. Then I lost interest and never finished the post about it. Oh well. The whole gist of the thing has now been explained and I can move on.



I have this week to finish my current grad class. That means two critiques and my final, rough draft to post by Friday and at some point I am to speak to my professor on the phone about my work. I have no idea what this conversation will entail or how I should think to prepare for it (As I told the girls, what am I going to do, explain to my professor that my story ideas are based on my obsession with men on television because I have no real one in my life right now? I don't even want to go there.)


Then next week I start my first Thesis class, have no money to pay for it, haven't applied for financial aid for this school year (even though my university said they can't give me any more money anyway; for whatever reason) because I haven't gotten my W-2 in the mail yet. It's probably sitting at my old school and no one is going to bother to send it to me because they're nice and courteous like that. Sigh...



So in all Bridget Jones fashion, I've made a list of what would be nice to have if I could have it:





Job: preferably something in the writing field, working for a magazine or newspaper, freelance is nice but I'd like to have somewhere to report to each day. A column would be nice, an office, a purpose, a decent salary, some travel, some social networking and something I could be proud of.


Friends: would be nice if I had something to do once in a while that didn't make me sigh at the idea. The club makes me sigh. I'm just over it but it seems there's nothing else to do and no where else to go.


Weight: 30 lbs. needs to go and soon. I'm looking like Tyra Banks these days, without the extra modelesque inches of height. Too bad my chubbiness does not make me look as cute as it does on Renée Zellweger whom I would not mind looking like for obvious reasons (life is so unfair.)


Relationship: preferably someone I could be best friends with to begin with as well as a girlfriend to. Not constantly together but that comfortable understanding that neither of us are going anywhere. I've never had that because no one has ever wanted me to factor me into their life in any real way.


Boredom: needs to not be as present, hopefully social life, job and boyfriend will remedy some of this epidemic.


Independence: must hold fast to as tightly as possible.


Money: not a lot needed, just some to pay for rent, bills, clear up credit (which is not fairing well with each monthly missed payment), food and tuition.


Writing: here's the thing; I was writing in about six different things at a time, then I became zapped and lost all interest. Now I'm trying to get back into the desire to do it fervently but it's either the blog isn't interesting, or the story's deadline isn't until the end of the week, or the essay idea is dumb, or the journal isn't fun at the moment. I know ADHD is one thing, but my handwriting analysis said I have the disposition to start a bunch of projects, get really into them, and then abandon them when they don't seem as exciting as they did at first. I'm still saying it is a weird perfectionist thing. When it doesn't turn out the way I envisioned it, then I fail to continue on a seemingly flawed path. But, whatever, it's the thing I do and I do it. Hopefully the difference between how I see it and how I project it are good enough for whatever audience I may have.


Future: the white picket fence, the husband, the room of one's own, the writing, the travel, the contentment; all will be mine some day, hopefully.


Self Esteem: see all of the above for points in this favor.






Oh yeah, and Lost starts up again on Thursday. Apparently they're showing an enhanced version of the Through the Looking Glass episode on Wednesday night at 9PM. Cool.



Photo credit: LOC



http://www.deloresdefacto.com/?p=65

Will I take my rest, among the blessed






Heathcliff Andrew Ledger


(April 4, 1979 – January 22, 2008) was an Academy Award-nominated Australian actor. After appearing in television roles during the 1990s, Ledger developed a Hollywood career. He starred in both critical and financial successes, including The Patriot, Monster's Ball and Brokeback Mountain, and completed the role of The Joker in the forthcoming The Dark Knight. Ledger was found dead in a New York City apartment in the SoHo neighborhood on January 22, 2008.





I can't even stomach the word "was" to describe him. Things will defiantly not be the same now. So sad.



We love you, Heath. You will truly be missed.



Heath Ledger found dead in NYC at age 28


Actor Heath Ledger found dead in NY building


Heath Ledger @ IMDB


Heath Ledger @ Wikipedia



http://www.deloresdefacto.com/?p=64

We have our looks and perfume on





I saw Atonement last night. It finally came to a theater nearby after we'd been waiting on it forever. I was okay with it because I looked up the plot on Wikipedia so I knew what was going to happen. But still, I can't say enough good things about it. It just makes me want to write a good novel even more and the way the story was put into a movie was so artistic and lovely. As I said in my email today:



Here's how much I thought of it; I barely said anything through the whole thing because I was trying to concentrate. Ha ha. I kept thinking about it all last night though. It wasn't as depressing as "Titanic" but I think that's just because I looked up the story and we knew what was going to happen. And Fran didn't like the typewriter/piano music but I loved that. Did you notice how there were parts that were really quiet and then parts with the music? The quiet scenes (like the sex one; all you hear is them breathing and the clock ticking in the background) made me anxious. Without the language and the gore, it totally reminded me of an old movie. The thing was just perfect. So freaking good.


The one part we didn't get (because they didn't explain it well and/or we couldn't understand what they were saying) was about Keira and James being at school together and something happened and how he was going to go to medical school. So did something happen when they were away at school or it was just weird that they had been apart for years and saw each other again? That was the only thing we didn't get all together. That and the fact that honestly, no matter what that little girl did, they probably would have drafted him into the Army anyway.


Yeah the arty stuff totally got me. I love when they take a good book and make a good movie from it. Those are always the best ones. All it says in Wikipedia about them at college was: Briony's sister, 23-year old Cecilia Tallis, has returned home from university and is confronting her confused feelings towards Robbie Turner, son of the housekeeper, whose studies were financed by Jack Tallis and who, like Cecilia, studied literature at Cambridge University. I liked the whole class system theme in there too. And they didn't have to explain it too much, you just figured it out (again, good story telling.) Just like him going to war and the chocolate factory guy did because in their difference of class. If he would have married Cecilia he probably wouldn't have had to go because he was in a wealthy family. Plus that and the fact that they would believe that he's a bad guy, despite how well they knew him, because he was a servant.


And I just love that that little girl, Briony, even at the end, is still selfish and totally in her own head about all of it. Like she says, "I feel like I kept them from happiness." Oh and what I thought they could have added in there, and maybe it isn't even in the book, is how she really made the novel end. Like was it suppose to be that she went to see her sister at the apartment and he never had to go to war because she told her parents the truth, or did he come back from the war and they were together? As far as Wikipedia says, it's vague in the book just like the movie was. I totally want to read the book now even though I heard it was boring.



Aside from that I wanted to talk about hotness versus compatibility. I am no Keira Knightly, it's true. I'm all personality. Hence, I look for the same in relationship. I'm not blind or anything; I know which guys are hot, but how someone looks doesn't factor in my perception of them after a couple of weeks. My ex is a good looking guy; women (and men for that matter) love him. I could have cared less when I first met him even though all the girls around me were falling at his feet. I guess that's why he chose me to begin with honestly. Then my guys friends whom he started hanging out with once I met him, figured out that his sarcastic humor and musical talent equalled a cockiness that was irritating as hell after a while. When I see him now I think of him as my brother rather than an ex lover just because I know what he's like. Tons of pretty girls didn't understand why he chose me but, then again, they didn't have to go through hell with him either.


My mantra has been ever since that I have to know them for a while before I decide if I'd want to date them. I think about how someone looks at first meeting in a whole, encompassing persona rather than "wow, he's hot." (Not that I haven't thought that before though, I must reiterate this point.) Once I know them, I see them as beautiful or plain. Nine times out of ten, the really good looking guys are so cocky about it that I could care less if they have good bone structure and modelesque features. An ass is an ass, no matter how pretty the package.


And, again, I think I'm the only one who thinks about it this way. Granted, I pick the wrong one every time (a pattern which I have fervently resigned from all together in the past year) but it's the essentials of how they treat me that ends up being what matters. Having a beautiful man call you up for a date is great and all but once they treat you badly, who cares how dreamy they are? Maybe it's just that good looking guys think non-beautiful women should worship them because they could get some glamor gal to hang on their arm for a while as a trophy. But my mother was the pretty girl in our little, country town and she said all the good looks from all the guys who chased her didn't mean a thing in the long run. My Dad was quiet and gentle and level headed; that was what really mattered.


So as I go through life, gabbing about men with my friends, I just feel different because "the initial attraction" doesn't register with me. Some people may say that I'm bitter and just afraid of relationships all together because I've been treated badly in the past (which is and isn't true; I'm afraid of the same kind of relationship I've had in the past.) But I have fallen for a ton of my male friends for as long as I can remember. I am friends with them for the reason of common interests, taste and connection. Whether or not I feel attracted to them comes later when I realize that I have a desire to be affectionate with them or not. I see men who are cute but just by my own personality and upbringing, I would never sleep with them without knowing them anyway, so the whole idea is sort of eliminated in my mind. I'm may be attracted to them but I need the essential compatibility and trust to even consider having a relationship with them. So, again, I love cute guys, but they aren't really hot until I know who they really are.


Unfortunately this is an even more rare case for men. But if you haven't noticed, hot guys are are usually with average looking girls. And it's always the average looking girls who complain about this when they should be happy that they don't have to look like a Chanel ad to get a cute guy. Maybe I really am onto something with how I see men of all ranges of hotness. Keira Knightly may get to kiss them for money, but the real girls are the ones they come home to.



P.S. I added a blog account on SkyRock



http://www.deloresdefacto.com/?p=63