Well, I finally finished up those three days' worth of posts, and replied to comment I'd been meaning to, so skip down below this and the previous entry to have a look, if you so care to. Meantime, I better get my procrastinating arse back to packing. It's moving day tomorrow, after all.

Site Update: Added a new pic of Sehran given to me by Schatten. Love those colors. Thanks Sheela-mun! Added a gift pic I did for Kishma for her birthday - her anthro Zebra character, Tashta.

Personal Update: Well, I've actually been working on one for a couple days now. But it's late, I'm tired, and I have work. So it'll have to keep a while longer. Night all.

It's funny, how different days can be, even as close together as the day before, and the day after. Yesterday I came home from work and wrote a post about how all I saw was darkness. Today was little different, physically. It was hotter, but the sky was still that cloudless blue, the sun that bright gold. The breeze was less, so it got a bit warmer than I liked it, but tolerable.

But that was work, and work is never particularly pleasant. That was the same as the previous day. What I mean by different, was the drive home. Tired as usual, but comfortable now that I was in my car with the AC cranked up and the radio playing, the only differences were that I had celtic music on this time, and the... hmmm. Tone? of the drive. And that was all the difference there needed to be, because I saw a peregrine on the mountain.

Following another car up the twisting road that's Hecker Pass, just at the foot of the mountain, really, the sun shone through the oak trees, and onto the form of a falcon flying from one stand of oaks to the other on my right. It passed right over the car before me, and glided without sound or effort through the light and into the shade, beyond my view. It was perhaps six to eight feet in front of me, as many above the ground. There was no mistaking those markings, that striped face, that speckled pattern. A peregrine. That eye was brilliant, for all its darkness. It was beautiful. And for a breath, a heartbeat, it hung in the air, passing slowly before me, without a care about those below it.

Oh, how my day shone after that.

My thoughts afterwards were of flight, and dreams, and how nice the day was, even with the heat, and how I was going to enjoy telling my friends about seeing the falcon. For all my years of living in an area they're supposed to inhabit in healthy numbers, I'd only ever seen one other before, and nowhere near that close.

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Aug. 27

I didn't manage to finish this before - or at least it didn't feel finished, and just as well, really. I suppose I should clear some things up about the one previous. This blog is much like a journal, I suppose, and the things said on it very much musings of the moment, with the statements made seeming rash or overly emotional in the cooling off of time and distance. The things said here... are said mostly because they're what you'd turn to a good friend and say at that point in time, talk over, discuss, and have a conversation evolve from it. I simply don't have that handy friend riding in the car with me, and my mind wanders accordingly, hither and thither and yon, and all you poor bastards are deluged with the results of solitary musings when I get home. This kind of thing can be dangerous, giving the impression that I ponder over such things of heavy subject a great deal, when, in actuality, it took up an hour of my day, and the time to write it out, and those black mood days... or at least the ones where death and all that are pondered... are infrequent at best.

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Aug. 28th

Didn't finish again. It's late evening now, and I'm very tired. But I did want to write down what I saw on today's drive home, because it made me smile.

Red-tailed hawks are common as the buzzards that fly around, though you tend to see the buzzards a lot more. They're big, big birds, after all, with an impressive wingspan. I often see them wheeling above the hills in their effortless glides. Red-tails, though, I most often see them around my parents' house, distinctive with their rusty plumes trailing behind them. I've always liked Red-tailed hawks. They mean home, somehow.

It was hotter today than yesterday even, and my body reacted accordingly. For those who haven't had the pleasure, I get nosebleeds when I get overheated. Most often when the weather is hot, than any exertion I might do on a relatively temperate day. And mine are always gushers. *grimaces* Ah well. That's something that's happened since I was little though, so I'm never surprised by it, just irked. Still, it happened yesterday too, and today's was bad. Probably the worst I've ever had. I'll spare you all the icky details, but suffice to say, it probably lasted about 15 minutes, and I was unable to tip my head back like most people tell you to, because so -much- was flowing that I couldn't breathe when it started running down my throat. A bit frightening, really. Which was why, on the drive home, AC blasting on full, when I passed the horse farms and glanced over at this one pasture that has some nice bulls, I was surprised and delighted to see a red-tail, sitting on one of the fence posts, watching the world go by, unconcerned and big as life, that wonderful shade of brassy brown and absolutely - I am convinced - smiling in fierce contentment. He definitely looked pleased with himself over something.

His mood was contagious.

It was a beautiful day today. Late summer, blue as blue sky, with barely a cloud in it. Warm, but with enough of a freshening breeze to keep things nice, as long as you weren't exerting yourself. The sunlight made everything gold, and the drying grass was goldenrod in the warm light. It was a bright day.

And all I really noticed on the drive home this time were the shadows.

It can get dark in them, even on the most cloudless of days, when the sun rules. The forest on Mount Madonna is old, and well-grown. Shadow there is a curtain, heavy and cool and sudden. It didn't seem limited to the mountain, either, though there it was most prominent. I suddenly seemed to notice small clusters of trees, and the shade they cast, and I wondered at how I didn't notice them before, at least, not in the same manner I was at the time. They felt cold, passed cold, and I felt cold too, inside, where the sunshine didn't reach.

And, on this lovely day, one I ordinarily would have enjoyed the drive home on, I found myself thinking dark thoughts. About past wrongs, past mistakes, past humiliations, both ancient and recent. I mused over morbid things, like what would really be different if there were no more me. What was beyond... if, indeed, there is anything at all. Or, if, like a friend believes, we keep going around and around again. I wondered what it felt like - if it felt the same way as I feel, just being. Whether or not the soul is the same, the person isn't. It won't matter if I come back again, it won't be -me-. So is there really only the two possibilities of oblivion or afterlife to consider? Isn't oblivion just another way to look at the notion of reincarnation? There will never again be the combination of nature, nurture, and circumstances that brought about me, so I will cease to exist, and this new person will be born. I suppose strong elements might bleed through to successive lives... but those would be traits, not personality. No more me. At all. Somehow, the notion of not existing scared the hell out me. If this is any indication of the future, I will be one of those withered old crones hanging onto life by gum and nail, unwilling as hell to let go of it. Probably a cranky old bitch, to boot.

Yeah. Fun drive home today. *rolls shoulders and sighs* Eh. Ponderings, with no point. Personally, I believe in an afterlife - heaven, hell, the whole bit. I'm Catholic - lukewarm at best, since I have major problems with the way the Church handles things like abortion, birth control, and homosexuality, to name a few - so tend to think it's the whole 'once around the block' type thing, on average. Not that I think that's the end, or the only way it works - who says heaven doesn't work on rotation, and there's a... what's it called... room capacity? So many souls at a time only, please, thank you, check your wings and halo at the door. Maybe it's the same for hell. Man, I got the pitchfork with the busted tine again, this bites. There are more things in heaven and earth, and all that.

"And being alone
is the best way to be.
When I'm by myself it's
the best way to be.
When I'm all alone it's
the best way to be.
When I'm by myself
nobody else can say goodbye."

~ excerpt from Circle of Friends, by Edie Brickell

I think I have my new theme song.

I heard this song once in middle school, and like so many other little poignant snippets, it's stayed with me. I know more, of course, and am forever meaning to buy the CD. I just keep forgetting. Maybe next time I get a Borders card or something. All I have right now are for Waldenbooks. Mmn. Books. Should go get some soon. I got a few cards for such for my birthday, and I could use the escape.

But I don't have one of two things. Energy, or time. If I work all day, I don't have the energy. If I don't, I don't have the time, because I'm packing. It's getting down to the wire folks, and just to catch everyone up, here's the scoop.

The EDD (Employment Development Department, i.e. Unemployment) is refusing to give me my money. Why? Two reasons. They said I had not cooperated with them to give them info they required. This is BS. I talked to their auditor on the phone, he was nice enough, and explained a lot of things I hadn't known about or understood - like that the vet hospital I worked for was owned by this one company, who did all their paperwork through a -third- company I'd never heard of. The other reason? VCA is trying to say that I quit, that they didn't fire me. This is also, a load of shit. I'll be damned if I let them call me a liar and don't give me the money I need to move based on that. So, I filed an appeal. Two, really, since they - in true red tape tradition - gave me two separate Notices of Determination with separate reasons. Now I have to wait for a court hearing - possibly two - which haven't even been scheduled yet. Yay. Did I mention I'm moving out the 31st? Yup. No choice on that aspect, never was. So. What does this mean? Well, despite my efforts to get a place locally, or even a roomie and a place I could have my pets (even just my cat) for a price I could afford, I haven't been able to. It's Oklahoma, folks. Just a matter of -when- now. See, because of the delay, I now have to stay at my parents' house until the hearing is over, I get my money, and I can finally use it to move self, stuff, and pets to Oklahoma. And if you're asking, no, I don't have family there. I do have my best friend, though. Add to that, the wages are about the same as I'm making now - $7.25 if you were curious - except that there, you can actually live on it. A friend of my friend is going to rent me a loft for about $200 until I get a job and rent my own place. AND, most important, he won't mind either cat or large dog. Cue the choir here.

I love my home state. But I can't afford to stay. :( So I go. And until I can, I have to stay at my parents'. *plants face on desk* I'm going to hate that. I never wanted to be the kid in the house again. I never wanted to go back, even temporarily. Hopefully, I won't be there more than a month or two. Then I'm off to Oklahoma.

Or will be as soon as the bastard EDD gives me my money.

Site Update: Can't have Watch without Rill. Appropriate link added to accompany Watch's page from the human me section.

Site Update: Due to a headache and bout of insomnia, as well as trying to clean up the computer room, I have updated the 'human me' page to show my correct age, added a link in the appropriate place to pictures of my dog, Watch, added in an old shelter poem I had laying around, put up the very cool picture Tanamin gave me at FC 2003, and added a new Miscellaneous section to my art page.

Speaking of birthdays, here's hoping Kishma has a fantastic one. Go paint the town black and white and red all over, you party-zebra, you.

So. Had dinner with the family. Good food. Not exactly scintillating conversation, but I have to say, that was half my fault. I didn't exactly contribute. At least the company was agreeable. I did get rather depressed since talk invariably turned to E.J.'s going off to Fresno - that happens Sunday, turns out, because he's got band camp to go to, instead of the end of the month like I initially thought - but that is also no fault of anyone's, and I'm afraid I was rather... curt, when trying to turn the conversaion away from that. I just... really didn't want to think about my own failed attempts at an education that I wanted. So. This is twenty-eight.

Less said about it, the better, I believe.

Dammit. I can't even draw. I left my sketchbook at work. *sighs*

Ugh. Tired. The good news, like I said, is that I'm getting forty hours this week. And at least I made them give me an hour break for agreeing to do so - pfft, like I was going to say no. Still one tired minotaur, me. I spend half my break actually dozing off over my sketchbook. The other half though, is spent working on my latest doodle. A hippocampus. I dunno why, I just had the urge. Blame my friend AL, I guess. She got me going on an ocean-critter kick.

Other news - I'm staying at my mom's so I don't have to get up at 6:30 in the morning so I can be at work on time at 8. Sometimes, EJ ain't bad to be around - we can talk and have an interesting conversation, and hang out a bit, and it's fine, even rather enjoyable. Other times, I just want to throttle him for whining. This work-enforced stay has included a little of both, and a rather alarming morning. To elaborate - a couple days ago, my brother had a friend of his over at the house, and they stayed up late, and his friend slept over. Neither case is out of the ordinary. The next morning, fairly early, he drove his friend home.

Allow me to digress for just a moment. This morning, like all of the ones I'm spending here at my parents' house, I had to go to work. To get there at 8, I needed to wake up at 7. With the exception of this very morning, despite me asking to be woken up, since they have no spare alarm clock (that functions), this has not happened. It's just been fortunate that my internal clock has prodded me awake at least in time to throw on my uniform and dash out the door on subsequent mornings, but that particular one, my mother woke me up at a quarter to eight. So I was already going to be late. Not that it was going to be wholly my mother's fault, mind you. I discovered that I'd also forgotten to throw my uniform from the washer to the drier. -_- I called work and told them why I'd be late. Once my clothes were dry, I got ready, and was about to walk out the door, when my mother got a phone call. I swear, if I were superstitious, I would have thought something didn't want me to get out of bed.

Back to my brother. That phone call? Him. He was distraught to say the least, and about the only thing my mother could get out of him past the tears was that he'd been in an accident (He's only recently gotten his license and uses my mom's car), he wasn't hurt, no one else was either, and it was about half a mile down the road from the house. This is not as innocuous as it sounds - a quarter mile away is on highway 156, a two lane freeway nestled between agricultural fields that has two entrances along it for the housing complex my parents live in. I drove my mom to the site, and found two other vehicles - a minivan and a sportscar - along with three cop cars. The minivan had lost a bumper, and I never did see what kind of damage the sportscar sustained. The car my brother was driving was banged up - the front headlight was ripped clean off, and the front corner is munched, and there are scrapes and a dent in the back - over $3000 worth of repair work, according to the estimate. I don't know yet what the insurance is going up to, or the bill for the other people's cars. He'd fallen asleep at the wheel, swerved right, then tried to correct and was unable to do so, swerving into the left lane. Incoming traffic. He is very, very lucky no one was hurt, or even killed. He was shaken up pretty badly, kept apologizing to the cops and to the other drivers. I can't blame him. I probably would have been doing the same thing too. But it's a sobering thought, how much could have changed in an instant. He came closer than I did.

It made me think though, about the time I learned about falling asleep at the wheel. I can't remember how old I was, whether I was licensed or still on a permit. Licensed, I think. It was on the way to San Jose, to see family - and my mother got tired, wanted to sleep. So she pulled over, and I took the wheel. I can still remember the sunny day, warm and bright, with the hills all golden from summer. The sky was blue, and the clouds were high and scattered. It got warm in the car, and I began to feel sleepy. I couldn't have been driving for more than twenty minutes, I think. Then my eyes got heavy, and I struggled to keep them open, but my blinks became longer, and longer. This is on a three lane freeway, mind, though I was in the furthest right one, thank goodness. I opened my eyes from one of the longest blinks to find I was about to run off the road and onto a shoulder. I swerved back into the lane, jolting my mother awake, and scaring the crap out of myself. I waveringly told my mother that she should probably drive, pulled over and swapped. I'm not sure to this day if she knows what exactly woke her up, because she never said anything, or questioned, and I didn't talk about it. The realization that I could have hurt her though, really frightened me. It's part of the reason that if I'm feeling sleepy, I will pull over and take a nap, no matter what. I fall asleep in cars. This is a simple fact of my existence. It's also why I dislike driving for longer than an hour. I invariably get sleepy. On the move to Washington, my poor uncle ended up driving most of it, because - and I kid you not - I basically slept the entire way. That's an 18 hour drive, if I remember correctly.

Anyhow. I learned my lesson about that early on, but really, just like my brother, it could have been so much worse. I'm thankful that in both cases, it wasn't.