The Inaugural "Serial Killer Thursday"!

New Feature! New Feature! 

Henceforth, Thursdays of the third full week (typically the third Thursday, except in months such as this one where there are 5 Thursdays) will be "Serial Killer Thursday". We will discuss the life and crimes of one notorious serial killer every month - preferably one who was caught, tried, and convicted. This will take the place of "I Love Things!" Thursdays for that week, which this week is really too bad. I had a lot of love to throw around. If serial killers aren't your bag, be sure to check back next week for a double dose of Love.

I bet you're wondering, Why "Serial Killer Thursday"? Am I trying to promote a culture of violence? Am I trying to further desensitize the American public? Am I a sicko who likes to read about this sort of thing? No. No. A thousand times, NO. I am merely here to remind you, my dear friends and gentle readers, that sometimes bad shit happens and there are some truly despicable people walking the planet. Don't believe me? Check out www.pysih.com. It can't be all light and sunshine, can it? Surely not. 

Of course, my reasons aren't purely didactic. This idea was given to me on Thanksgiving day by FishForest Family friend, Carl-Os. Apparently, for Carl-Os every Thursday is "Serial Killer Thursday". He is known to regale his co-workers weekly with tales fraught with blood and terror. Such was the case on Thanksgiving Day when we had a lengthy discussion on the life and crimes of one H.H. Holmes. I don't love serial killers (per se) but I do love chatting with Carl-Os. Since he will soon depart for his own Magical Mystery Tour I am doing this once a month feature in his honor. I shall greatly miss our devious weekly repartee. 

Upon Carl-Os' recommendation, this month I am going to tell you all about . . .

Colonel Russell Williams

A Big Cheese in the Royal Canadian Air Force by day, a pantie raiding miscreant bent on destruction by night. In 2007, after achieving all sorts of clout, awards, honors, and career success in the Royal Canadian Air Force Williams started stealing panties from teenage girls. His obsession with the underthings of underage girls intensified, and soon he began stealing panties, wearing panties, taking pictures of panties, and masturbating into panties. Bras weren't safe either, nor were negligees and stuffed animals. I have a thing about stuffed animals, so this in particular turns my stomach. The youngest girl he burgled was 9 years old, though he claimed to prefer victims who were in their late teens through early thirties. Likely story.

Aside from being a total creeper, could someone
tell me what the hell is going on with his hair?
Inquiring minds want to know. Source

As if the breaking, entering, and theft were not bizarre enough, Williams kept meticulous records of his crimes which he kept in spreadsheets on two hard drives hidden in the ceiling of his home. Soon, his kleptomania turned to violence. He began breaking into homes that were not empty. He would blindfold, bind, and gag unsuspecting women after sneaking into their houses and then disrobe, rape, and torture them while keeping through photographic evidence of the whole thing. Sooner or later, this sort of thing was bound to escalate to murder. 

His first victim was a Corporal Mary France-Comeau, a flight attendant serving under him at CFB Trenton - the largest air force base in Canada. The internet tells me that CPL Comeau fought hard against her superior officer, cursing him to the very last, but sadly she succumbed to his sick will in the end. Thankfully, the death of his second victim, Jessica Lloyd, would prove to be his undoing. The astute Canadian police were able to match tire tracks left at her house to the tread on Williams' Pathfinder during a traffic stop aimed at finding a suspect. After hours of intense interrogation, Williams snapped and confessed. He was eventually charged with a whole lot of things and sentenced to 2 life terms, plus a whole lot of other time, to be served consecutively. So, the justice system being what it is, he will eventually be eligible to go before the parole board, but not for 25 years. By that time, he will be 73. Maybe in the meantime he'll die, huh?

I was unable, through all of my research on this fine example of insanity to glean a motive for his crimes. There was something about the stress of military life, a sentence about his cat dying. I have no idea what his real reasons were. Whatever the case, it doesn't excuse taking the lives of two innocent women and terrorizing so many others. He didn't even look good in lingerie. Seriously. What was he thinking?

So damn unpretty . . . Source

I was also unable to ascertain whether or not he and his wife (who swiftly filed for divorce after he was caught) had any children. I am hoping that this means there were none. If not, we should be thankful for small blessings. 

Weekly Reflections #3

Jack Handy's Deep Thoughts. Source

I have decided to dispense with the lists for today, as I accomplished exactly nothing this week that was list worthy. Two weeks into the new year and I took a vacation . . . but I swear! It wasn't my fault! j^C had 10 days off from work with which to celebrate out anniversary, and I just can't do things with him in the house. Work is a solitary experience for me. Sprouts and Mojo Jojos are acceptable workday companions, but j^Cs are certainly not. They ask too many questions. I get aggravated. I want to kill. It's a bad scene. So, I got nothing done this week.

But!

On Thursday, we headed to South Carolina to begin our anniversary weekend getaway. (3 Years) Our final destination was Raleigh, but first we had to relieve ourselves of That Sprout. She was to spend the weekend with Grammy and Grampy while we revisited our old haunts in Raleigh. After driving through a huge rainstorm and staying the night with the in-laws, we finally arrived in North Carolina. The first thing we did was eat at COOK OUT.

Delish. Source

Have you ever heard of COOK OUT? Have you ever eaten at COOK OUT? No? You haven't lived. One slaw dog and mint Oreo milkshake later, we were back on the road to Raleigh. We arrived at the hotel around 8:30 - and the hotel was amazing. $55 a night with a stove, fridge, and DVD/VCR. How did we get so luck? I hope that sometime in the near future I can manage a solo getaway for writing purposes to that very same place. Why? Because work it a solitary experience. Best thing? I can even bring Them Dogs.

On Saturday, we met  back up with our pals from the Raleigh Tabletop RPG group. It was nice to have friends again. I felt like the popular kid. We played games and rolled dice for eight hours, then we all made our way to Red Robin and closed the place down. There was much laughter and merriment, and I was happy. As much as I want to live near the beach (Santa Monica, Pensacola, St. Augustine - in that order), I really miss the community we had built in Raleigh and I wouldn't mind moving back. It's sickening how many more things there are to do in that area compared to the greater Savannah area. Sadly, where I live now seems to be nothing more than a glorified tourist trap. John Cusack lied to me. He will pay.

On Sunday, we tried to go to Ruckus, j^C's other favorite restaurant, but they decided not to open on time and we were on a deadline, so we ate at the Buffalo Brothers that they built across the street from the apartment where we used to live. This is a point of contention with j^C and I because when we lived in those slums, there was nothing on that road but a McDonald's, a Food Lion, and a drive-thru Starbucks. Now, they've made the slums into livable apartments, there's all sorts of new restaurants and stores (even a micro-brew store!), and we don't live there anymore. I want to write a stern letter, but what would I say? "How dare you improve living conditions in this neighborhood! Who do you think you are?"

Uncle Ruckus = No Relation. Source

Since we got home things have been slow and we've yet to resume our previous routine. j^C had Monday off for MLK and That Sprout began showing signs of a cold. We staying in all day yesterday, snuggling on the couch and watching Garfield and Friends. Thinking she was on the mend, I took her out for some ice cream last night. She was fine for about an hour, then she started hacking uncontrollably. When we got in the car, she told me that her ear hurt. So, walking outside, in the cold, is a no-go until That Sprout is better. First husbands then children ruin my plans. Oh well. Better luck next week, I guess.

Six - two - and even. Over and out.

"I Love Things!" Thursdays - The One With Pants

It has been a long, bitchy week, but now it's almost over and we have a moment to revel in the things I love. I hope you love some of them too!

This Week I Love:

1. Steven Schub

This is what loving life looks like, m'friends. It's sexy. Source

Once upon a time, in the long, long ago, I was walking around with my friend Shelly at the Jacksonville Warped Tour. As we wandered, we were passed by a very good looking man with those mini flyer you get at such events - the sort that promote bands and future shows. He walked up to us, handed us each a flyer, and proceeded to tell us that his band, The Fenwicks, were going to be playing at Freebird Live later that week. I looked down at the flyer and then asked "What exactly is an Afro-Celtic-Yiddish-Ska band?" This lauched the man into a spirited spiel peppered with all sorts of Yiddish vernacular. I couldn't help myself, so I used what Yiddish I had in my repertoire (Thank You, Lenny Bruce!) to parlay in kind. The whole exchange lasted about a minute, but it made an impression. He though I was not goyim, and I was an instant fan.  The man, of course, was the multi-talented Steven Schub - star of sound, stage, and screen. I have followed his career since 2005 and reading about his myriad sundry career experiences, antics, and exploits never fails to bring a smile to my face. Also, this is a man who returns emails and will friend you on Twitter. I love him because he is in love with life.

2. Ed Wood

It takes so very little to make me happy. Source

Wednesday is trivia night which means I get to spend a couple of hours with our friend Carl-Os*. Currently, Carl-Os, j^C, and I are the reigning champions - which is super exciting in and of itself. My favorite thing about Wednesdays though is the brief moments between questions when Carl-Os and I discuss bad films. This conversation is currently ongoing, but in the first week of the discussion we talked about Ed Wood and I nearly died when Carl-Os said that he had not only seen but actually owned  Glen or Glenda? I get very excited about people who know movies I know. I'm like an excited puppy about it, and it's hard to control the enthusiasm. I might just pee all over the floor one day. I can never be sure. This almost happened last night when Carl-Os walked in with an Ed Wood DVD collection for my viewing pleasure. I am so excited, I pretty much can't stand it, and sadly I'm going to have to wait to watch any of them until next week. Alas. I might add that part of Carl-Os' friend appeal is the fact that he is sympathetic to Ed Wood and he agrees with me that he wasn't the absolute worst filmmaker in history. Love.

* Name sort of changed to protect . . . something.

3. Bela Lugosi as Jesus Christ

Have you ever seen anything more beautiful?
No. No you haven't. Source

My love of Ed Wood should belie my love of Bela Lugosi, but in case you failed to make that connection I'll spell it out for you: I LOVE BELA LUGOSI! After I received the Ed Wood collection from Carl-Os at dinner I went home and found a picture of Bela as Christ on my Facebook wall. Mojo Jojo knows me so well. I almost died from awe inspired reverie. This is why Mojo Jojo is my bestest buddy in the whole wide world. He knows about the little things.

Now, I bet you're wondering why Bela, "Mr. Scary" himself was dressed as Jesus. Apparently, when he was still living in Hungary he was cast as The Lord in a Passion Play. The part meant so much to him that he had a series of photos taken of him dressed for the role. Dracula or no, Bela was a beautiful man and a phenomenally talented actor of stage and screen. I always knew he was the second coming, now I've got the photos to prove it. Love him.

4. Sarah Von from Yes and Yes

Sarh Von Bargen = Living Proof of the Above. Source

If you don't read the blog Yes and Yes, you should. You just should. There's no reason not to. It's a quick and fun read chock full of useful information, travel tales, and random tidbits of my favorite thing ever: First Person Narratives! This week Sarah mentioned the Pomodoro App in a post which inspired me to look into the Pomodoro Technique which is totally changing my life. She's also posted some really great tips about blogging and networking which I've begun to take into consideration. She's just a fountain of knowledge. If you want to know more things, seriously, read her blog. It will change your life and blow your mind. *Note: I am not posting a picture of her because she's a for real blogger and I don't want to get in trouble for stealing pictures. However, if she should approve my use of her likness there will be an edit. But you know what would be even easier that waiting to see if that happens? Go to her blog. Love.

5. Pants. A Decent Pair of Pants.

So too, all I wanted was some pants. A decent pair of pants. You know, to aid in my running efforts. Well, yesterday, I got em'. I am happy. They are great. I can carry on with supportive sweat wicking. Yay! Love.

Weekly Reflections #2

Appropriate, I feel. Source

I was so positive last week. What the hell happened?

I've been pushing forward, but I feel like my momentum has slowed and my good attitude has withered, leaving behind nothing but silent and seething anger. I am on the verge of snapping at any moment. I want to scream at the dogs, at That Sprout, at innocent pedestrians on the street. I considered lashing out at a homeless man yesterday, but decided that was not a good look. I don't know why this happened, but it needs to stop. I am not in any way hormonal, so the best I can figure is that it's just me - a phase I'm going through. I don't like it. I don't like it all.

That being said, I have had some successes. I have made a little progress, however modest.

This Week I . . . 

• Walked in excess of 17 miles
• Began my second week of the Couch to 5K program
• Lost another 2.4 pounds
• Continued taking my pills regularly
• Was accepted to the Teacher Ready online teacher certification program
• Went to Church
• Went to a play date with a new friend
• Began first drafts of 2 poems
• Began cleaning house and purging clutter
• Won $25 at trivia!!!
• Did a random act of kindness
• Was chosen to co-organize a writing group for Deep
• Defeated That Sprout in her night time antics
• Made a new friend on Twitter (which we will discuss in more depth tomorrow)

This seems like a paltry and forced list. I feel like I should have accomplished more in the past seven days, and maybe I did and forgot about it, but it seems like I have done nothing but encounter adversity. I am so sick of the inconstancy in my life. I thank my lucky stars that I have some things which are consistent: Deep, my weekly appointments, my walking with Beth. About the walking - I want you to know that nothing would please me more than canceling this morning. I have about 1 million things to do, I have a sore throat, and I am in a lot of pain from walking/running on Monday and Tuesday. But I am not going to cancel. I am not going to quit. It is a conscious decision and it is a battle I have chosen to win every day. That's a yay, right?

Now, for my week of FAIL:

• I have the stupidest of all sports related (fat related?) injuries 
• The dog pooped the floor last night
• I have been a mega bitch
• I ate far more garbage food than I should have 
• I have not been very focused on domestic or literary work AT ALL

This doesn't sound so bad, now that I list it all out, but it still feels really bad. I am trying so hard to be productive and forward moving and I feel that I have done nothing but waste time since Saturday. What's more is that I will not again be in a position to accomplish things the way I would like until Tuesday . . . So, I have essentially lost a week and a half. I hate this. I am in a rage. I sure hope this passes when my life goes back to normal (until the next 4 day). This is no way to live.

Poems, Pomodoros, and Productivity

My salvation? Source

I woke up this morning after having a very strange and exciting dream wherein I was nearly devoured by a lion and a tiger. It inspired me to write a poem, but after I began writing I realized that there were really two distinct stories that came out of the dream, and that although I wanted to, I really couldn't justify cramming the whole bit into one poem. It wouldn't make sense if I did. So, I wrote a rough draft poem about the first part of the dream (the part about the jungle cats) and decided that the second half of the dream - the aftermath - would be best served in the form of a villanelle.

I love villanelles. They are the only type of form poetry I can even tolerate, and my affection is truly a love for the ages. There's just one small problem with villanelles . . . they're a bitch to write, as they are the most restrictive form of poetry. I have been working for over an hour on the first three lines. While part of the beauty of the thing is it's economy of language, that's also the trouble with it. You have to pick the exact word you want to convey your meaning. And that word has to rhyme. And the whole thing has to sound right with some sort of meter. It's tedious. But! When you get it right, it's oh so satisfying. Hopefully, I'll have two finished poems for you by the end of the week. We shall see.

In other news, I have recently discovered the Pomodoro Technique thanks to Sarah Von at Yes! and Yes!. She casually mentioned it in a post last week, and I was intrigued. What is a pomodoro? Well, a pomodoro is literally a tomato. However, with reference to the Pomodoro Technique, it is a tomato shaped kitchen timer as well as a unit for measuring time. Just as one minute is sixty seconds and sixty minutes is one hour, one pomodoro is twenty five minutes. It's actually much more simple and much more complex than that, but I'll let you read about it at the web site if you are interested. I'm only mentioning this because I think it's a great method for increasing my own productivity, mainly because I had this same idea when I was in college.

Back in the halcyon days, I used to tote an egg timer around with me. I would set it for different amounts of time, but the idea was that I would focus on the task at hand until the timer went off. This is the basic idea behind the Pomodoro Technique. So, since I've already used it to great effect, I'm going to try it again. Only this time, I'm going to keep track of certain things, like how long it takes me to complete a task, how many interruptions I encounter, and how I might streamline the process in order to further increase my productivity. The garage will be cleaned, poems will be written, cookies will be baked, and clothes will be washed - all thanks to a humble tomato. Or, in my case, a strawberry.

What else have I got for you, dear friends and gentle readers? I have taken to eating raw, soaked, oat groats which are lovingly referred to as "scroats" by j^C. Laugh if you want, but they don't taste bad and they are proving to be both nourishing and satisfying. Although, I wonder if they aren't messing with my brain . . . I've been in total bitch mode and on the verge of an anxiety attack for several days now. The only thing I've been doing differently is eating the groats - perhaps I should look into this. This could be the cause for my lousy attitude yesterday, which, by the way, I am so sorry about. At least it was short, and we're moving on to  more pleasant pastures today. Yeah. Off to walk. Ciao!

I Don't Wanna

Give me 40 years and a sex change. Source

I don't want to update this blog today. I have nothing to say. Furthermore, I feel like my brain is a fried egg. Incidentally, I would also like to eat a fried egg at the moment, but that could be a hunger thing.

I think I consumed far too much salt this weekend which has resulted in me being a bloated and cranky bitch.  I have gained back what little weight I thought I had lost, my pants are tight, and my hands are swollen and achy. At least I have the consolation of knowing that despite feeling like human garbage, I went out and did my requisite daily exercise anyway. Yay?

As I finished my last short run of my C25K training today, I realized something very sad about myself - something that I hate to admit, though I know it to be true: I am a quitter. I may have completed my training for today, but I really didn't want to. I know that if I didn't have an accountabilibuddy, I would have quit when it got hard. This makes me sad.

I am truly a coward. Like, Falstaff level coward. It's embarrassing.

I suppose I should be happy that although I wanted to quit, I managed to persevere. It's hard to do that though, knowing that as soon as I am left to my own devices the siren call of quitting will begin to temp me in earnest. It's hard admitting you are the cause of your own misfortune.

For now though, I am persevering. I am blogging when I don't want to. I am running when I want to quit. I am still trying, even though I really don't want to. Maybe that's admirable.

"I Love Things!" Thursdays

Oh look! Another recurring feature! And what is the purpose of this one? Why, to share all the things I wanted to talk about in posts but realized I didn't have much to say about, of course. In my quest for happiness, courage, change, success, fame, and improvement, I've often struggled with the idea that I might lose myself if I change too much - isn't being angsty and edgy part of who I am? Yes! It is! And I've finally figured out that I can be a happier person while still embracing the dark side. How? Because I love the darker side of life, and that love makes me happy. My enthusiasm is as much a part of me as my angst, and unless I missed a memo somewhere along the way, enthusiasm is a positive, happy making emotion.

This Week I Love:

1. The Motivational Speech from Pump Up the Volume

I love this movie. I have loved it since I was in the 6th Grade. I love this movie so much that it might be responsible for shaping me into the person I am today: a disenfranchised, disenchanted free thinker on the outskirts of Generation X, and a fan of Leonard Cohen. This speech - the turning point for Happy Harry Hard-on has kept me, and I hope countless others from "blowing their fuckin' brains out". Pump up the Volume: proof that Christian Slater can act. He needs to fire his agent and get his career back on track. There is a part of me that's still disappointed that I never founded a pirate radio station and subsequently got arrested by the F.C.C. I guess there's still time. My supervision as a teenager was about as present as Harry's, so the radio thing so could have happened. Howard Stern, eat your heart out. Talk Hard.

2. The fact that I could just barely smell the paper mill on the wind this morning

Only I  could be nostalgic about this . . . Source

It makes me nostalgic, and just a little bit homesick. For all it's flaws and shortcomings, I really do love Putnam County. My upbringing was both the best of times and the worst of times and I miss the people I used to know and the times we had. When you're young, poor, and in an isolated place like Putnam County it forces you to get creative with your merry making. Or it forces you to get in into all kinds of trouble. I was more creative that devious - although ditching school on cold days to drink coffee and pretend to be fabulous was my favorite thing to do. Love.

3. That it was Elvis' birthday this week and I was more or less unfazed

The only picture on the internet where he looks halfway
human. Believe me, I checked. Source

This is a cryptic thing I love, but that's cool. Elvis turned 31 this week and I didn't even think about it until the day after. Part of me is disappointed that I forgot as I had wanted to light a St. Jude candle for him, but that's literally the least I could do and he would laugh at me if he knew. It's the thought that counts, but I've thought on the subject for far too long. Maybe now I've grown old enough to stop thinking and stop caring. Happy birthday to you . . . Loving not loving you today.

4. SWANS

A good visual representation of their music. Source

SWANS is a band unlike any other I have ever listened to. I don't even know how to begin to describe their music. It's sort of like industrial, but harder, darker, more visceral. I think they're swell. I like so many different bands and so many different genres of music and sometimes I get stuck on one particular style or genre while forsaking all others. I've been on a Classic Alternative/New Wave kick for a couple of years now. This means I've been listening to The Smiths, Duran Duran, and a whole lot of The Cure. But Saturday I thought "Hey, I haven't listened to SWANS in a while, let's see what's on YouTube". I was five minutes into the album Soundtracks for the Blind and I was already snugly wrapped in a blanket of noise and creative comfort. I was transported to a time when I was moving forward in my work and in my life, which is just what I need right now as I try to recapture the momentum and spirit of that time. Love.

5. My new method for eating steel cut oats

I made this m'self.

I am sure I've mentioned that I have a contentious relationship with oatmeal. As it is traditionally served, I think the stuff is vile, which is why I usually make it with the olive oil and cheese. This week, I ran out of the good olive oil, and after one bowl with the bargain brand, I decided that this method of preparation would have to be shelved until I could afford something better. I still wanted to eat oats though, as they aid in lowering cholesterol, so I mixed the steel cut oats with some Chobani Black Cherry Greek Yogurt and left them in the fridge to soften overnight. Meanwhile, I made some healthy chocolate chunks by freezing a mixture of melted coconut oil and cocoa powder on a cookie sheet. In the morning, I broke of a piece of the chocolate and crumbled it into my oats. It was wonderful - chocolate covered cherry oats. Mmm. I have have equal success by combining Pineapple Chobani, oats, and plain coconut oil for a tropical breakfast. Tasty Love.

6. Lime Green Danskin shoes

I are a photographer.

I have had this pair of lime green Danskin shoes for over a year, and I've never worn them because they didn't have a lot of padding and I figured that they couldn't be good for my feet. I bought them on a whim, and shortly thereafter found a pair of green and purple Adidas for a mere pittance. I bought the Adidas and began wearing them because A) I assumed they were the superior shoe, B) I liked the color, and C) I always wanted a pair of Adidas when I was in school, so's I could be like the cook kids and now I finally had em'. I assumed that after wearing them for a while, I would break then in and they would stop digging into my ankle bone every time I walked. I've had them for a year and a half, and it hasn't happened yet. So, in desperation, I sought out the Danskin shoes. To my surprise they are the most comfortable shoes ever. I ran in them yesterday, pain free, and I improved my run time. Yeah. Love.

7. Seven Mary Three - "Water's Edge"

I have not listened to a song obsessively in quite some time, but starting just before Christmas, I became obsessed with this song. Poor j^C must have been going out of his mind, as I was playing it over and over and over on YouTube for weeks. I love this song. It's sad, and it's depressing, and it's morbid, but I don't care. Love. Love. Love.