The · violets · in · the · mountains

[01.] Who are you?
[02.] Are we friends?
[03.] When and how did we meet?
[04.] How have I affected you?
[05.] What do you think of me?
[06.] What's the fondest memory you have of me?
[07.] How long do you think we will be friends?
[08.] Do you love me?
[09.] Would you date me?
[10.] Would you kiss me? .
[11.] Would you hug me?
[12.] Would you help me hide a body?
[13.] Emotionally, what stands out?
[14.] Emotionally, what am I lacking?
[15.] If you could have 24 hours alone with me, what would we do?
[16.] Give me a nickname and explain why you picked it.
[17.] Am I lovable?
[18.] How long have you known me?
[19.] Describe me in one word.
[20.] What was your first impression?
[21.] Do you still think that way about me now?
[22.] What do you think my weakness is?
[23.] Do you think I'll get married?
[24.] What makes me happy?
[25.] What makes me sad?
[26.] What reminds you of me?
[27.] If you could give me anything what would it be?
[28.] How well do you think you know me?
[29.] When is the last time you saw me?
[30.] Ever wanted to tell me something but couldn't?
[31.] Do you think I could kill someone?
[32.] Are you going to put this on your LJ and see what I say about you?

Things I Will Do If I Am Ever the Vampire

1. I will not pick off friends, family or neighbors of the Hero one at a time. This annoys the Hero and drives him into action.
They'll still be there when he is dead.

2. There are thousands of sick people who want to be vampires. Why pick someone who doesn't?

3. The Hero will come armed with holy water, a cross and a stake. I will come armed with a 5.56 mm assault rifle and grenades. If the Hero has to cross open ground, there is no better way to reach out and touch someone than with a sniper rifle.

4. When biting women to make them slaves, I will bite them in out-of-the-way locations such as the inside of the thigh, the lower part of the breast or other location not requiring painfully obvious alteration of clothing or ridiculous accessories to conceal.

5. I will equip my home with a marvelous device called a burglar alarm with an automatic dialer. It will be difficult for the Hero to kill me while under arrest for attempted breaking and entering.

6. My coffin will be concealed and will be a plain wooden box. The elaborate oak coffin with gold trim resting in the basement will be equipped with claymores [mines] designed to shred the body of anyone who opens it.
7. I will wear a watch and verify what time sunrise is every day.

8. The formal attire with cape will be reserved for special occasions. Jeans and a t-shirt will be fine for everyday wear as they are less noticeable.

9. I will wear _white_ clothing, which does not set off my pallor as obviously as black.

10. If I can't avoid wearing black all the time, and acting weird, I will go to bars which cater to that sort of clientele. It would make it more difficult for the hero to pick me out of the crowd.

11. I will not engage in a battle of wits with the Hero. I plan on killing him anyway so what's the point?

12. I will not dismiss a Hero as a mere mortal because he does not have my centuries of experience. Even inexperienced losers can get lucky.

13. There will be no windows, doors, elevator shafts or air vents accessing my Hidden Lair that have any sort of access to the outside and which sunlight can be directed down using mirrors.

14. If there must be windows they will be painted over and backed with steel plate so the Hero will face a rude surprise when he throws something through it at sunrise.

15. When I take the Hero's True Love to make her my concubine and eternal slave I will not show her off to goad the Hero into making an attack. That would goad the Hero into making an attack. She will be tucked away in a quiet room watched over by my loyal servants until the Hero is dead.

16. I will not transform children. Their bodies will stay the same age forever while their minds grow older and they will become whiny and disobedient.

17. I will not use bug-eating morons as servants. Pretty females dressed in little French maid outfits are more visually appealing and can also distract the Hero.

18. While castles and mansions are traditional and have certain flair, the two bedroom bungalow is less noticeable in suburbia.

19. My home will not have wooden furniture, the legs of which become sharp, pointed sticks at inopportune moments.

20. I will have one of my Entranced Subjects constantly observing the Hero and his party. I always want warning if they go to a lumber yard.

21. My home will have mirrors but they will be located in places such as the bathroom where I am unlikely to be at the same time as the Hero or his friends.

22. I will not change into a bat, scuttle up walls, fly or hypnotize people when there might be witnesses.

23. All my concubines will be fully aware that they are not to seduce, attack or even bother visitors staying in the castle unless they have express consent from me.

24. The blood in the refrigerator will be stored in a tomato juice container and there will be ordinary food in there for camouflage.

25. I will get a voice coach and change my name. "Hi, I'm Bob," is less suspicious than "I.......am......Dra. ....cu.....la."

26. I will not associate with vampire theatres, vampire whorehouses and prostitution rings, vampire bars or vampire biker gangs. They attract attention.

27. I will spend no more than 10 years in any one location and when I move it will be somewhere distant. I will not return to a previous home for a minimum of 80 years. Anyone who previously knew me will either be dead or senile.

28. I will be able to explain porphyria and why that unfortunate genetic condition is the reason I cannot go out in the sun.

29. I will force myself to look concerned and not hungry when someone accidentally cuts himself.

30. A Kevlar vest with a ceramic trauma plate located over the heart is a rather trendy fashion accessory.

31. I will take seriously anyone who approaches me with a water pistol and a confident expression.

32. Backpacks and small bags capable of holding sharp pointed wooden sticks will be taken from visitors by a servant at the door. Anyone refusing to part with their accessories will be taken into a side room and shot in the knees, handcuffed and chained to the wall where they will provide lunch for my concubines.

33. Crossbows, spears, arrows and other antique weapons with wood or large blades will be banned from the castle. There is nothing wrong with a fine collection of rifles and handguns.

34. I will carry at least a .38 on my person and become proficient in its use. If the Von Helsing is holding me at bay with a religious symbol or I am unable to use my vampiric powers for other reasons, I can always open fire.

35. I will be a strict atheist, so the hero will be forced to use a copy of "The Skeptical Inquirer" or "Das Kapital" rather than a Bible, delaying him considerably...

36. Before dining out with anyone, I will verify that garlic is not a major spice at that restaurant.

37. I will not take blood from people who take cocaine, speed, or other addictive drugs.

38. All servants, concubines and assorted slaves will be under strict orders not to show excessive devotion to me in public.

39. Servants, concubines and assorted slaves will have a zero-tolerance rule: one mistake and they're dead. I can always create more.

40. When recruiting new blood, so to speak, I will first enslave those who might notice odd behavior in my future concubines. Therefore, I take the teacher at the all-girls school first.

41. All future concubines will be screened and have complete background checks. Those with relatives named Van Helsing will be removed from consideration. The irony is not worth the risk.

42. Nothing says the Hero can't be a cripple or be suffering massive trauma from a shotgun blast before he becomes lunch.

43. I will not personally finish off the Hero. That is what loyal servants, concubines and assorted slaves are for. Besides, the True Love is probably tastier.

44. All future concubines will be stripped searched for rosaries, crucifixes and garlic before I approach them.

45. All cute but spunky kids in the community who express an interest in the supernatural will be identified and observed for sudden changes in behavior.

46. I will be an upstanding but otherwise undistinguished resident of my community and will make sure that I cultivate enough friends that I will be warned of anyone spreading malicious rumors about me.

47. Since it will be the last thing they would expect, I will hire a Mafia hit team to take out the Hero and his friends. Let's see the crucifix protect them from an Uzi.

47a. And if it does, I will immediately leave town (having been spying on them from several blocks away via a convenient hard-to-trace method of my choice).

48. All villagers will be encouraged to send their children to the schools I will secretly finance. After a few years of modern education they will dismiss the legends told by their grandparents, several of which will undoubtedly be ways to destroy me.

49. I will ignore all attempts to appeal to my former sense of humanity. I don't have any. That is why it is former.

50. I will remind myself that I am immortal, not indestructible.

51. All concubines will save the loose, transparent flowing silk dresses for special occasions. I'm a modern sort of guy so I like a woman in leather and Kevlar, which provides more protection so she lasts longer in a fight.

52. Although firearms are useless against me and the concubines they work quite effectively on the Hero and his friends. Therefore all concubines will be armed and taught to shoot. They will use hand and fang in attack only as a last resort.

53. All bodies of former meals will be destroyed in a manner which will make the absence of blood and bite marks impossible to identify.

54. I will not send bodies or parts thereof of former friends, relatives, mentors or lovers to the Hero in order to demonstrate my complete mastery over life and death.

55. I will not demonstrate knowledge inappropriate for someone of my apparent age.

56. I will not begin a vendetta against someone who has destroyed a fellow vampire that I was fond of. They have clearly demonstrated they have the ability to destroy me.

57. More vampires means lower prey ratio: I will carefully consider if I really want more of us running around.

58. All the cutlery in my house will be either stainless steel or plastic. No silver. (Besides, I might accidentally cut myself.) But ideally, the steel will have a special surface that makes it *look* like silver, so the Hero will waste his time trying to stab me with it.

59. I will keep important bits of my home flooded with a non-flammable poisonous gas at all times. Not needing to breathe is a useful skill.

60. As cancer isn't a particularly large concern for me, I'll wear asbestos clothing.

61. I will make lots of long term investments.

61a. With the great wealth I get from that, I shall endow a genetics program aimed at producing cows whose udders secrete human blood, or a palatable imitation thereof. Then I can go to McDonalds instead of bothering the hero's womenfolk.

62. While it may offend my dignity, whining incessantly will indicate that I am the protagonist, and will enable me to avoid the attentions of Heroes.

63. As cute as the Vampire Slayer is, there are other girls just as cute who are not capable of destroying me.

64. I will not engage a "Vampire Slayer" in martial arts combat, as that seldom seems to work out well.

65. If I find out that there is a "Vampire Slayer" living in the vicinity, I will consider moving elsewhere, regardless of the advantages conferred by that particular location.

66. When faced with a gang of spunky kids determined to stop my evil schemes, I will consider surrender. Or mail bombs.

67. I will put on lots of makeup and fur, and howl at the moon every once in a while. This should confuse the hero, and will probably enable me to get away with a silver bullet or two.

68. I will not consider property crimes beneath my dignity. Carjacking is a good source of income, and I don't have to worry much about the possibility of something going wrong.

The population of rec.arts.sf.written.

I just noticed how a bunch of people added me as a friend I had no idea! Yeah so apparently I've had Heather, Steele, and Jess were my lj friends and no one notified me. ILY guys, but seriously let me know when you add me, since I am Captain Oblivious.

Someone gives you a letter, and you pick 5-10 songs that start with that letter and maybe say a few words about them.

[info]rikibeth gave me P.

1)Pretty in Pink-Psychadelic Furs
I ♥ this song, but then again, who doesn't?
2)Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want-The Smiths
This song brings back some memories
3)Paint It Black-The Rolling Stones
Definitely had fun dancing to this at Theatro
4)Peek-a-boo-Siouxsie and the Banshees
Looove this song, have a live version of it.
5)Pirate Love-Johnny Thunders and the Heartbreakers
Sleazy, but cute
6)Paranoid-Garbage
I was obsessed with Garbage when I was in junior high.
7)Pretty Baby-Blondie
Very pretty song
8)Pipeline-Hanoi Rocks
Haven't listened to that in about one million years.

Comment if you want a letter.
* * *

Because of the hospitalization my parents wanted me to leave Simmons, we reached a compromise and decided that I would take next semester off. I feel like such a failure. Everyone I know is excited to go back to school and I'm going to waste a couple months of my life at home. I know what I need to do. I need to pull up my grades so I can transfer somewhere else. Maybe another place in Boston or maybe a school in New York. I know lots of people take time off from school and that I shouldn't be ashamed of doing so, but I really feel like a big time loser. I keep telling myself it's just a few months and then I go back to Simmons. I've decided I'm going to pull up my grades and transfer somewhere where I'll be happier. I think I want to study speech therapy. I am extremely frustrated right now. I really hate myself at the moment. /angst

The results for the 2006 Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest are up. Go look now!

http://www.bulwer-lytton.com/

Here's one of the winners:

"There was an old woman who lived in a shoe who had so much equity (because our story, dear children, is set in Miami's hot real estate market) that she upgraded the exterior to blue suede siding as a tribute to her idol, Elvis, moved her kids to a bootee out back, and then reopened the place as the "Are You Lonesome Tonight?" motel (but you'll have to wait until you're 18 to read any further)."

What do you folks think?

To all of my wonderful friends who have kept me sane in the last two days. Finals, 48 hours without sleep, too much caffeine, not eating, medication and all. You all have been soooooo wonderful! Especially Debbie, my other half (together we are Debbolina) who proof read a 14 page paper for me last minute and assured me I wasn't going to fail. I love you Debbie! I love all of you, you are all amazing and I am lucky to have each and every one of you as friends. ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

-Love always and forever,
Pocket Polina

For a silly thing!

Dearest Miss Polina,

I most admire your ______.
You have a cute______.
You make me _______.
You should _______.
Someday I will ______.
You + me =________.
If I saw you right now I'd __________.
I would build a _______ just for you.
I would get your name tattooed on my __________.
If I could sing you any song it would be _________.
We could __________ under the stars.
Will you ______________ me?
My love for you is like that of ____________.
I fantasize about you ______.
Puppies are _____.
_____ is like ice cream.

Love,
_______________

(P.S. ______________:)

THEN REPOST THIS WITH DEAR ______ (YOUR NAME) AND HAVE PEOPLE LEAVE COMMENTS FOR YOU FILLING IN THE BLANKS

"Events in the past may be roughly divided into those which probably never happened and those which do not matter."-William Ralph Inge

The past is a funny thing, when looked through the lens of memory it is no longer real. We remember fragments of it and piece it together into a picture that we'd like to believe. It is a story almost. Nothing really happened as you remember it. Ironically now I will use a memory of the past to illustrate my point. I was at a casual friend's house one day when a friend of hers stopped by. I didn't recognize her but apparently I attended school with her when I was in third grade. She told me she always thought I was interesting but was scared to talk to me because she thought I hated her. I had a very different recollection of my third grade experience. I remember crying when my parents told me I wouldn't be attending my old school and then crying even more when I got to Wolcott Elementary. I was an outcast there, I don't remember having a single good friend. I remember being constantly laughed at and taunted and excluded. But yet, apparently someone there wanted to be my friend. I tried to psychoanalyze my third grade self and all I could come up with was the idea that I got so frustrated within my first few weeks there that I shut everyone out as a defense mechanism and hid in the library during recess reading books on Greek mythology. But on the other hand, she must have told herself a story too. Surely her memory of third grade is not flawless, so the real third grade experience is neither here nor there.

I've realized that I tell myself a lot of stories about the past. I make it seem like it was the most beautiful thing that ever was. I remember friends from different points in my life and thinking "They were perfect and now they are gone." But they weren't perfect! I just erased their human flaws from my memory to trick myself into thinking the past was more beautiful than it was. And when I found a new past to dote on I redrew my old past into something that I disliked. The old past was no longer glorious and perfect, but the new past was. Is Inge right? Did my past never really happen?

You may be wondering why I am choosing to explore this topic now instead of preparing for my final; I've been thinking a lot about going back home for the summer. I'll see my old friends from high school, and then my memories of them will crumble. No one is as perfect as a memory. I'll rediscover the things they did that drove me crazy and suddenly I'll want to come back to college. I'll start telling myself that Simmons was wonderful. But you know summer will end and then I'll come back and it won't be wonderful. I won't ever be happy. How melodramatic.

It's like Thomas Wolfe said "You Can't Go Home Again." You've changed, they've changed, and nothing was ever like you remember it. In short, you're doomed. Johnny Thunders said "You can't put your arm around a memory" but I don't think that he really grasped what that meant. He meant "I can't put around my arm around a memory of you because memories are physically intangible" but what it really is "My memory of you isn't real, so therefore it would be impossible to put an arm around it." If Mr. Thunders knew what that would entail he would never do it. He would be putting his arm around something earthly and mortal, and not a dream. No one wants to put their arm around reality. Memories never really happened, we just create stories and convince ourselves that they're true. I suppose all this means that I'm once again in existential crisis and am wasting my time and yours. I should really do something that would keep me in college instead of babbling on like this. Good plan Polina, good plan.

I'm going to pretend someone is reading this. The Smiths have sort of been on my mind today. I think the lyric of the day is
"It's so easy to laugh
It's so easy to hate
It takes strength to be gentle and kind"-I Know It's Over

Morrissey said something to the effect of "The Smiths only happened because I walked home in the rain one too many nights." I've done my fair share of walking in the rain, but it's never going to produce something like that. I picture Morrissey walking in the rain and the cars gliding through puddles sounding like music with the pitter patter of drops of water hitting the sidewalk like the rhythm of a drum. That is not how I walk in the rain. The wind and my umbrella spite me and my umbrella turns inside out. I get soaked and I spend fifteen minutes trying to flip said umbrella into its correct shape. I miss the walk signal four times. I'm not paying attention to sound of the cars gliding through the puddles, I'm focused on trying to dodge being splashed. It's not really graceful or poet, it's like the opening scene to one of those "Everything always goes wrong in my life" movies, except Hugh Grant does not spill his coffee on me fifteen seconds later and smile charmingly. If I'm lucky I'll restore my umbrella back to normal and be dry as I contemplate going home or getting a cup of hot chocolate. I think about the universe but when I try to write down my thoughts later I realize that they weren't as poetic as they seemed outside. I realize I'm nowhere near being a prolific thinker and I'm just a dumb college student. C'est la vie I suppose.

I've known for a long time that life is meaningless and not nearly as neat and pretty as a song or a movie. But it's still a hard concept to grapple with when you're cold and wet and just wish something beautiful would happen. I wonder what it's like for Morrissey to walk home in the rain. Maybe it's not like what I picture at all, maybe he wrestles with his umbrella too. Maybe he wrote pages and pages of stupid crap before coming along something worth while. Maybe not. We forget that artists are humans since the very concept of good art is something seeming not of this earth. Things which are too exquisite to be real are art. Exquisite beauty, exquisite ugliness, exquisite joy, exquisite anguish. Art looks at the universe through a different lens than the lens of wet glasses.

The world can flow through me like poetry but when the poetry flows through my fingertips and onto a page it becomes muddy and weird again. It becomes being splashed by cars and not hearing the music in rain. If I believed in anything other than a chaotic world that does not give a damn about any of us I'd say I was cursed. I don't believe in anything other than a chaotic world that does not give a damn about us so I clearly cannot believe I'm cursed, I believe I am a victim of my own creation and am merely stupid. My existence was just like anyone else's at the beginning but the essence which I have created from it (by an act of my own will and perhaps the influence of external forces that fell upon me by chance) is a piece of crap. Oh to be young and angst ridden!

Some days I feel like I'm turning into Gregor Samsa, pre monstrous vermin. I'm just someone who gets up every morning and goes through the motions of the day without anything of substance to extract from my experience. I can only wish to wake up to be a giant cockroach maybe then I'd feel something really beautiful. But that's not going to happen, because no one wakes up as a giant cockroach and no one can opt to have their life written by Kafka instead of a shapeless meaningless blob with no edges that does not give a fuck about you or anyone else. So I guess I should give up on looking for anything and just study French like I'm supposed to. This Polina K, wishing for fiction living in a world of broken umbrellas. Over and out you crazy kids!

Alright, thanks to the wonderful Charlie I have found that Bitcrush will be releasing a new album in a week. This is a great ambient/noise band that has always had a shoegazer influence but on this record you can really hear it. I can totally picture Bitcrush listening to Slowdive before making this record. Now you may wonder how I know so much about this record without being able to download it, the answer is quite simple, you can listen to the whole thing on Bitcrush's site!! Awesome linkage? : I THINK SO!