kiya: (snug)
( Sep. 14th, 2014 10:08 am)
Goodbye to the sweetest, most loving, stupid charming cat I've ever known.

I'll write more later.



[livejournal.com profile] artan_eter and KJ are going out to dig his grave.

Grave goods include catnip, a handful of kibble, and the red twisty off the top of a gallon of milk.

He shed on me one last time.
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kiya: (snug)
( Aug. 17th, 2014 11:36 am)
Vet called me at about quarter of nine to say the Arthing had eaten all the food they left him overnight. (He sounded a bit impressed.)

I'm going by the hospital in a bit to visit the invalid.


ETA Apparently they syringe-fed him a little this morning and his reaction was roughly "Well if you're going to be that way about it let me at my food dish, sheesh."
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kiya: (snug)
( Aug. 16th, 2014 01:53 pm)
Arthur has been checked into the hospital for a long-term stay.

I am stressed out of my everliving mind and this is the cherry on top.

ETA: update from vet when he went off-shift: Arthur is eating, both kibble and wet food. THIS IS VERY GOOD.
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kiya: (computers)
( Jun. 28th, 2014 02:05 pm)
I seem to have a working computer again. Maybe.

But I cannot get any of my email. I cannot even get into webmail on the account I've had since 1999. The domain I pay for is mysteriously not doing email at the moment and I haven't had the spoons or time to try to tech support this and.

I am perhaps not entirely in my best functionality, as having everything I use for routine asynch communication out is not exactly unstressful.

Got two achievments in Banished while I was trying to patch my machine. Then had a meltdown.

Waiting for mail program to finish patching and maybe smething will work again. Maybe. Somewhere.
More attempts to comb out my brain, meanwhile. This will be written through the haze of horrific headache, so please bear with me if you want to bother reading it at all.

Brief context summary: in ancient times, most mystery traditions were private offshoots of ordinary religious practice, undertaken by the particularly devoted to that set of stuff, the particularly interested, or whatever else. They existed in the context of a surrounding culture that took their raw assumptions as a given and provided what amounts to specialist knowledge.
So let's run with that. )
Side note: KJ's eighteen-month checkup went spendidly, she is a healthy and mighty babe. I am not healthy right now, but I have been stabbed gently in the chest, throat, head, wrists, and feet, and seem to be not coughing anymore? Also I have tea.

So, [livejournal.com profile] jenett posted a questionnaire thing to her blog, and I read through it and was full of "Wow, a paganism religious questionnaire that doesn't suck horribly" and the sudden thought that I didn't know how to answer it anymore, because I'm in the middle of an intense period of religious turmoil. Which is, on one level, okay, and on other levels very upsetting.

I am answering the questionnaire as best as I can in order to see if I can sort my head out, because filing things neatly is good for thinkybrain and makes it stop panicking quite so much. Thinkybrain is full of panic.

So the thing. )
kiya: (hawk)
( May. 20th, 2010 12:49 pm)
I was fucking fine before I got downstairs, and now between the combination of overdemanding baby and pet peeve that's been pushed in a way that hits additional safety-issues buttons I want to destroy the world.

Maybe if she lets me eat sometime I will get better.
I think under many circumstances I might write this for the blog, but I really explicitly firmly am not wanting to treat it as something fucking political right now, because getting political in my personal is part of what fucks me over, and I don't want to do that processing level right now.

I have a defective relationship between money and self-worth. Like pretty much everyone else in our fucking culture.

I'm writing about this because I was talking with [livejournal.com profile] teinedreugan about it yesterday? Friday? something because this is one of the issues in our sex life, but it's also, I've got too much crap in my head, so I need to excrete it somewhere and that's what livejournal is for!

Necessary background: )

So that's the needful background about my breakdown; skippable for people who either know about the breakdown or might find it upsetting to read a summary of someone else's screaming descent into gibbering failure and the consequences thereof.

So that was the circumstance under which I Entered The Workforce. )

It's not actually as bad as I've written it, the money thing, it's just. I need to write about this problem, so I've cut out the bits that aren't the problem. You know how it goes. But this is always there.
kiya: (bone)
( Jun. 7th, 2009 06:17 pm)
Pregnancy, emotional state, etc.

No skin. )
    We live for words
    And die for words
    Principles we can afford
    When all our Brothers turn to Lords
    Whose side are you on?


"One By One", Chumbawamba

rasfc is no longer on my side. Hasn't been for years, really, but I've never been good at this whole getting out of a relationship that's going bad thing.

I have been there for nearly a decade. As I just posted:

    I have been here since November or December of 1999, which is nearly a third of my life.

    I have completed, with the assistance of this place, two novels, a number of short stories, and gotten started on several more.

    I met a lover here.

    I made many friends here over those years, and remain in touch with quite a few of them.

    I have laughed and worked and enjoyed the cleverness and gotten my rasfc pin and my Nancybutton that says "Asked and Answered" in honor of R*ck*ds (which made TNH sit down vehemently, once upon a time) and all these things.


    It's hard to face that it's dead.



I don't know what to do. I'm going to have to sit with this one for a good while, I think. But I also think I'm starting to say goodbye.

One by one, the ships go sailing in...
One by one, the ships go sailing out....
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Odd commentary on my state of mind from iTunes, today.

"Up the Wolves"

    there's bound to be a ghost at the back of your closet
    no matter where you live.
    there'll always be a few things, maybe several things
    that you're going to find really difficult to forgive.

    there's going to come a day when you feel better.
    you'll rise up free and easy on that day.
    and float from branch to branch,
    lighter than the air.
    just when that day is coming, who can say? who can say?

    our mother has been absent ever since we founded rome.
    but there's going to be a party when the wolf comes home.


If it follows this with "Bury My Lovely" I may have to kill something.
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kiya: (headache)
( Dec. 13th, 2007 08:56 pm)
Me: Head hurts.
[livejournal.com profile] teinedreugan: That's because you've been banging it against a wall.

(ETA: ... gonna kill the demon infesting iTunes. Or laugh, because it played the right damn thing right after 'Runaround'....)
kiya: (piece of the night)
( Dec. 5th, 2007 11:42 pm)
I love the touch of watching the stars ...
I love the sound of trashing guita-a-a-a-a-rs ...

Custom made
Townshend's ace
Smash the axe and
Break the case

I love the sound of crashing guitars
Crashing and crashing

(The six-string kick inside.)
(The six-string kick inside.)


The back of my head feels squeezed flat from tension.

Mao mao mao.

Remembering to breathe, cap'n.

(I wonder how many people listening to Roxette when this album was released got 'Townshend's ace' without having to have it explained to them. It cracked me the fuck up on first hearing.)
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[livejournal.com profile] arawen: "No! No! That way leads to madness and death! Poetry is to the left! The left!"
I put in an application for a part-time proofreading job at the Christian Science Monitor today.

I could try to explain what a tangled knot this makes in my head right now, but really, even in the empty space of not actually being able to post this, I ...

I like the Monitor. They do damn good work. It would be an honor to work with them, as I said in my cover letter. And that's one edge of the blade.

The other edge, though ...
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kiya: (slightly mad)
( Apr. 24th, 2007 12:44 am)
Spent most the day in a state of vague mopiness, largely associated with entertaining bits of existential reality contemplation and aggravated by not being able to usefully talk about it with relevant party.

Remembered I had leftovers from yesterday for lunch, which was good, as I was having a major case of, 'Waugh, need food, can't figure out what to make, no ability to focus.'

The bonus imp of Kali? Goes to flowers on me within five minutes. A quick check of the ingredients reveals ... musk rose. Genus Rosa, you are my olfactory bane. ::shakes a fist::

Poking at miscellaneous stuff. Went outside (too warm, alas) and cleaned up some of the yard a little, and wound up having a long conversation with the friendly Ukrainian neighbor, who gave me a tour of her garden (with a little sidebar of hunt-the-noun, as we sort of only share about 70% of a common language).

Extracted buckets from [livejournal.com profile] teinedreugan's car, though mostly he did the extraction and I wandered around declaiming about grapevines (in the event that they survived the winter; uncertain).

Got the edit back for my article. All good, even if there are a stunning number of little red marks on it. This is why the world has editors.

Went to TI. Assisted [livejournal.com profile] arawen with woodworking, mostly by folding paper towels for him to clean up stain with. Noted that the crazed anti-BDSM blogger types I've seen evidence of lately clearly think that I have a far, far more interesting life than I do; [livejournal.com profile] arawen suggested writing up the assistance with woodworking in evocatively porny language and posting it to the blog, which is amusing, but which I will probably not do.

Had food. Retreated to have more interesting life. Was mightily amused, or, as [livejournal.com profile] arawen put it, "What, that we have hot, sweaty sex and then discuss metaphysics as afterplay?" Also woodworking. Metaphysics and woodworking.

Bwaugh. Just, yeah.

Got home, had [livejournal.com profile] teinedreugan explain the complicated Warcraft combat to me. Also discussed changing the sheets on the bed back to the satin ones, as it has hit over eighty (ugh) and thus it is silly to have flannel ones.
kiya: (piece of the night)
( Feb. 23rd, 2007 11:28 pm)
What a time for this tune.
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kiya: (headache)
( Feb. 15th, 2007 01:46 am)
Okay.

Have clothes, have medication, have widgets. Have perfume oil to compensate for not certain about incense in hotel room because new moon is Saturday, thus unavoidably coinciding with trip. Have book for flight. Will get bathfoo and toothbrush together after shower tonight.

Have conviction that I've forgotten something critical.

Have no cope whatsoever. Touchy, short-tempered, kind of weird around the edges. Also liable to be hormonally unstable starting in about eighteen hours, for bonus happy fun time. If anyone sees my mind, please net it and let me know.

Have gotten flight info to [livejournal.com profile] brooksmoses, who will give me milk.

To those of you I'll see at PantheaCon: I will endeavour not to get my crazy on you. I don't think it's catching.
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That lyric was stuck in my head all the way home from training. I did at least eventually remember it was a New Order line.

This was a hard, intense weekend for me. (And for several of my classmates, for that matter.)

We did some energy work around the yes-meets-no polarity, which is frequently an eroticism thing for me when I'm working it; what I got when I was holding that was black and silver and blue and dark and deep and soft, an intense, demanding urge to cocoon. When I drew cards around that -- the five of Thorn's Black Heart reading, and then three followup of an 'okay, now what?' nature, I got the tower reversed, the ten of wands (can't recall if it was upright or inverted), three threes -- swords, and pents and wands reversed .... The only actually cheerful bit was in the three-card followup, which indicated that my relationships are fine and good for me.

General message: you need to pull back, stop overcommitting, withdraw, and fucking well take care of yourself, or you're going to explode. And I kept getting repeats and variations on that the entire weekend. With other things -- like how to unbind my energy from relationships where things are too tangled up for me to feel able to forgive. With my tendency to put energy at things that I can't get to right now rather than the steps I need to get there. With a bunch of other things.

When I drew the five-card for the Black Heart, and was trying to interpret it, what I got was:

    Quick now, here, now, always—
    A condition of complete simplicity
    (Costing not less than everything)


We made meditational mandalas as spellwork, and mine was:

    And all shall be well and
    All manner of thing shall be well
    When the tongues of flame are in-folded
    Into the crowned knot of fire
    And the fire and the rose are one.


I'm going to poke and refine that design and then talk to [livejournal.com profile] splurby about how much it would cost to get in her queue ....

When I resolved to pull back, call in my energy, not expend -- something that wound up meaning that I had a clear sense that I shouldn't try to render the images in my head in the Centre Guardian meditation/artwork -- I drew another three-card and got the Two of Swords, the High Priestess, and the Ace of Cups. Okay then.

It'll be interesting to see what that follow-up reading on the question of my enlightened self-interest turns up, in the context of all this.

(The poetry is the end of T. S. Eliot's "Little Gidding".)
kiya: (marriage)
( Oct. 24th, 2006 12:58 am)
I find myself thinking of people I know as symbols.

Whole people, with their own independent existence and impact on the world, but both real people to me, and emblems of something else. I know I'm not the only person who has this; I've talked with other people about this sort of thing.

I write occasionally about the one who became my muse -- a real person who probably spares not a thought for an elementary school almost-friend -- but also a huge function of how I am who I am.

I never write about the one who is the stray arrow, the one that poisoned Chiron.

Hold your loved ones close, you hear me? Hold them close.


(A thousand of bread, a thousand of beer, a thousand of every good thing.)

    I try to find the strength I need
    To calm the doubts in my beliefs
    With the will, I know my heart won't break

    And if I have strength then I've belief
    If I have love my heart still beats
    Here under stars
    Far from home
.

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