CEDRIC

Read all about it and other fun at DarkCon in my LJ:

REGINAROADIE

Hey All Today was kind of a big day for me. For the last few months, I had been lurking around Cupid.com, seeing who was looking for someone and wondering whether or not I should take the plunge. I had been debating this for a while, and been trreading lightly when it comes to ingratiating myself to the opposite sex. I had tried an online dating serive a few years back, and admittedly it didn't lead to too much success. I had lost a ton of weight and was looking really good for the first time ever, and so I was hoping to hook up with like some tiny thin blonde. I ended up dating two gals, both kind of on the plus size. The fist gal was just as much a geek as I was, which was kind of cool at first. She was really into Predator and all that, and I guess she was my second ever girlfriend. But in two months, we kinda figured that we kind of had too much in common. And the second gal I only saw for a few weeks. She was this divorcee who kept going on about when she was raped and wanted to commit suicide. So she was a real go-getter for me. So I tried instead of going afar to find a gal in the film program to hook up with. I igured that couple who meet in college are usually in the same program and all that. But I found that most of the gals I was into were already attached, married, or had girlfriends of their own (which admittedly turned me on a bit). And there was one gal that I talked to briefly at a party in April that I thought had a bit of a connection. But I only talked to her once on a payphone in Saskatoon in July and that was it. She ended up going to England for a whole semester, so it's been about 8 months since I've seen her. I saw her again in my doc class, but I'm not sure about whether or not she would be receptive at all to any advances I'd make on my part. In general, I have no idea on how to approach the opposite sex when it comes to romantic gestures. I've tried the direct approach and the 'build up the friendship' approach, neither of which worked. So I figured, fuck it. 2007. New year, new me. And instead of just any random gal that passes me, go to where they are in cyberspace. So I bit the bullet, sent the money order, and today I got the e-mail saying that I've been upgraded to Gold status for four months. I filled out my profile, my pics are pending approval, and I think the stuff I have on there makes me look good. I've sent a few eye contacts already, so I guess I just have to wait and see. I'm both excited and nervous. Excited that maybe something will happen (and hopefully with a gal whose hitting the gym daily like I am), and nervous that I just flushed 60 dollars down the drain. Any advice or supportive comments? Also, I'm trying to make a screen capture of an image from the latest episode of THE OFFICE. I have it downloaded, but when I left click on the paused image, nothing happens. Any ideas on how to do what I'm trying to do?

JFANJ

Yes,you read it right.With recent bizarre news,i cant help myself.Birds falling dead in Texas and Australia.A pungent unexplained smell sickening people in the east.near summer-like temps in the upper east U.S.That fruitcake leader of Iran practically daring Isreal to launch its nuclear bunker busters deep into his country.the idiotic senseless invasion of Iraq,given the fact that no plan was in place for its securring,thus losing the effort before it began.I just dont know.Will our species realize the 'verse so invisioned by our man Joss?Will we even be able to put someone on mars?or better yet,travel to the moon one more time?Doubtful in such a world as ours.Everyone can sense "a something" on the horizon,something bad,something wicked this way comes,some sort of distruction-ultimate distruction:crap:

JFANJ

I was intrigued to hear a recent guest on an over night radio talk show discuss certain predictions that the Hopi natives have made for generations.It is said that among all the native tribes of North America,the Hopi are the most spiritual,and to this day are holding steadfast to ancient traditions. Chief among those is the vibrant oral folklores and predictions that are for the most part,kept secret.Anyway this guest started talking about the Blue Sun prediction of the Hopi.It states that after a horrible season for all of Humanity,a blue sun will appear.This occurance will mark the beginning of a golden age,rebirth,a period of enlightenment.So i wonder if the Blue Sun we all know is in reference to this?hmmmmm.Being a wee bit Cherokee,i find this blissful.The Welch in me agrees.:smile:

RABIDBOI

This is my first entry, duh. So I just figured I'd say HI. I just finished the short first season of FireFly and found it amazing. I think I will always be confused as to why the show was cancelled. It was brillantly done! I remember a while back when it first came out, I remember really wanting to watch it. Though due to how life can throw you some curveballs sometimes I did not have the pleasure. Though thanks to my roomate I got a hold of the season. I finished it last night and was sad. I would watch the movie tonight but my lover wants to take me out. SO that has a raincheck :) The show is awsome in all aspects. It kept you guessing at the same time giveing you the juicey details. There was mystery, drama, romance, action and most of all beutiful girls. My favorite characters had to be Inara, Kaylie, Jayne and of course River. Shepard had his moments though. Inara was beutiful and I could relate to her. Her style was unique, it was her own. Elegant yet spry. Kaylie was instantly my favorite the moment I saw her. I was like "That would be me if I were on that ship!" She was very pretty but not beutiful, like me. She was sensual yet playful. She saw the light in anything dark. Jayne was a riot. I didn't much like him at the begining. I really thought he was going to do some real wrong to the crew, then he grew on me and I found him cute, silly, and just a guy who wanted everyone to THINK he was bad ass. Much like myself. River, she was the mystery, the real mystery. Though I belive we all know that already. My favorite part about her was that everything she said had something important to it and the crew did not even realize it. If it weren't for her they would have all died many times. She was beutiful in her own dangerous, adorable way. My favorite part with her on the show as when she sliced Jayne. I don't think there was a real point to that part other than to add some more drama to the show. It didn't have any specific reason to happen. The second most favorite but not the least was when she was in the cargo bay and she bent down to look at that small branch. The way her foot and face were in the shot at the same time. I could just picture exactly how she was standing and how most people don't normally have the ability to do such a thing. It was exotic and arousing at the same time. Needless to say I loved the show and will always love it. I am an artist so keep an eye on the Blue Sun Room for my artwork. Im about 40% finsihed with it. Just have to ink and color it. Anyhow, Im at work, so I gotta go. LATERS!

JONNYQUEST

I can’t really say that this birthday is one that makes me feel “old”. Nor is it one that normally registers on anybody’s “landmark” birthday list; what’s special about the number 47? I’ve been doing what I always do and consider myself whatever the next “landmark” is, “almost 50” in this case. I used to be almost 45 for at least two years running. It’s how I prepare myself I guess. By “being” the age before it’s here, it doesn’t feel bad when it actually gets here. So what about 47? I’ve had a feeling of dread about it for years. Decades in fact. Does it inform my every thought? Does it motivate my every action? No. Usually, I don’t even notice it’s there. Once in a while it crosses my mind and I scowl it away. It’s like this. I am about to turn the age my mother was when she died. Don’t worry, I don’t think I’m going to die this year. I should have died several times over half a lifetime ago. But I didn’t. It wasn’t my time. I believe everyone is assigned a certain number of heartbeats or breaths or some other measurement unique to them, and when that number expires, you’re done here. That’s why some people seem to live so very much in a short span and others linger on in seemingly endless tedium. I’m still here, I still have living to do. (Much of it at D*C, I’ll wager.) But the number still haunts me. 47 is just too young to die. But what is the right number then? I had just turned 15, finished my first semester of high school with all A’s. I was growing up and starting to figure things out. My mom was my best friend. And my oracle. She was a single mom before the concept was even acknowledged. She worked and raised me with the help of her parents. Sometimes it was like we were more brother and sister in a way. My grandparents and my mother were immigrants to America. Before that they were refugees from Yugoslavia in Austria. For 12 years. They lived in a one room flat and worked in the camps. I have no idea except from some pictures how hard life was, because when they talked about those times, my family being who they were and are, told funny stories. Every ugly facet of their lives was fodder for the comedy cannons. Except perhaps the worst of the memories which were never discussed. At least not in a language I understood. When the time finally came when they rode over on the boat to the great land of opportunity, like every cliché you’ve ever heard of, they arrived with three suitcases and three wooden trunks. In a matter of a few years, they had a house, solid jobs and bank accounts. My mother met and married my father during their second year here. Four years later she had to leave him. Alcohol and abuse. Old story. Nobody messed with the family. My dad would never fit in even without the booze, in a way it ended up speeding things along to an inevitable conclusion. So there we were, we four. And little did I know that everything they had ever done everything they had ever lived for was for me, even before they knew who I was. Ironically, I wouldn’t even be here if my dad hadn’t insisted on an heir. My mother just couldn’t see bringing another child into such a crazy, mixed-up world; a view she passed on to me. But he talked her into it and there I was. Even though she may not have wanted a [i]child[/i], she certainly did love [i]me[/i]. And so while everything my grandparents did was for her, stifling though it was at times, everything my mom did, she did for me. Single minded, completely focused when traveled life’s route. Which for me included a lot of television and for my mother included very little. She enjoyed the Pink Panther cartoons on Saturday morning (it gave her a break from vacuuming, she said), and Masterpiece Theatre featuring Upstairs, Downstairs, every Sunday night. She never missed an episode. Except one. Continued at

JONNYQUEST

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