<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8866106</id><updated>2007-05-17T20:58:48.930-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy to be so...</title><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.alias-grace.com/blog/'></link><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8866106/posts/default'></link><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.alias-grace.com/blog/atom.xml'></link><author><name>Emily</name></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>9</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8866106.post-112295157563122724</id><published>2005-05-19T19:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-01T19:59:35.633-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Jordan Selvage April 28th, 1977 - May 17th 2005</title><content type='html'>Jordan passed away on Tuesday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His father called me Tuesday evening to let me know that there had been an accident. A girl ran a red light and his car was pushed into a utility pole.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we were on the phone on Monday, Jordan was so excited about everything... Episode III, Serenity, Harry Potter, the fact that he had started to organize his apartment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were supposed to see Ep. III together next week. He was supposed to help me make my biker scout armor this summer. He was supposed to have the long and happy life that he deserved. Jordan was one of the best people I've ever met. Always loving, and caring. Loathe to say anything bad about anyone. He always knew what to say to make someone laugh and his smile was infectious, because you knew that when he was smiling at you that there were wonderful things in the world and everything was going to be okay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss him so much. I don't know how to be normal when I need him so much that every breath hurts. He was always the one I could call when I was upset or needed to talk and now that he's not there I'm just lost.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rest in peace, sweetie. I love you.</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.alias-grace.com/blog/2005/05/jordan-selvage-april-28th-1977-may.html'></link><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8866106/posts/default/112295157563122724'></link><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8866106/posts/default/112295157563122724'></link><author><name>Emily</name></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8866106.post-112295140010725793</id><published>2005-05-20T17:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-01T19:57:44.436-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Belinda sat back in her chair, closed her eyes, and waited for the scar to blossom upon her cheek.</title><content type='html'>Sorry that I didn't reply to everyone, but know that your comments mean the world to me. Thank you all. ::hugs::&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His funeral is tomorrow and my parents and I are driving up and staying in Bowling Green tonight, so I'll be offline until some point Saturday evening/Sunday morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few pictures. Because I can't stop looking at the ones that were posted on the RPF and on Kimmy's journal:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.alias-grace.com/img/jordan/jordankharn.gif" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the Cincinnati Zoo. He named that goat Kharn because it was trying to bully all of the rest of the goats. Then he made friends with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.alias-grace.com/img/jordan/emilyjordan.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kelly's Island. His parents took us up there because I wanted to see the glacial grooves. He wouldn't smile for this picture until we all teased him into laughter.</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.alias-grace.com/blog/2005/05/belinda-sat-back-in-her-chair-closed.html'></link><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8866106/posts/default/112295140010725793'></link><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8866106/posts/default/112295140010725793'></link><author><name>Emily</name></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8866106.post-112295129149522237</id><published>2005-06-06T00:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-01T19:55:05.710-07:00</updated><title type='text'>RotS Review (Belated, but so was my viewing of the movie)</title><content type='html'>I never posted about seeing RotS, and I fear I'm in danger of losing my fandom license if I don't. So here goes nothing...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I loved the movie. It was everthing that I wanted it to be. It also disturbed and upset me on several levels that I wasn't aware of in the first viewing. During the first showing, I was mentally and emotionally drained. Most of my reaction consisted of 'Ooh, pretty!' 'Yay, lightsabers!' and 'how the fuck did R2 have that much oil in him to begin with?'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that I've seen it another two times, there are a couple things that really bother me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a name="cutid1"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First of all, I apologize for this. It really has very little to do with the movie itself, and everything to do with my own mental state. I loved RotS and will continue to love it. The same way that I love AotC despite Padme's idiocy and denial.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Padme gave up. She just gave up. I can't put into words how much this upsets me. She had two babies to nurture and an evil empire to fight, but she was so weak willed that she didn't even bother fighting for her ideals? If her daughter had followed in her footsteps, the rebels would still be hiding in the outer rim, cowering beneath the grasp of the Empire. Padme reminds me of the woman who sticks with her abusive significant other because she doesn't think that there's anything better, doesn't believe that SHE is anything better. Is this the role model we want in front of young girls? I've made that comment before, when Padme completely ignored Anakin's homicidal tendencies and sat there like a vaguely sympathetic lump. It still holds true. There was something deeply flawed about their relationship, about Anakin, from the beginning. Padme should have at least tried to get him the help that he so desperately needed. The girl is a little idiot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Padme was set up to be a strong, opinionated, willful, idealist character. She failed. She had so much to live for and she couldn't find it in herself to stick around? I think I can understand grieving. It hurts. It hurts like fucking hell. I feel like every day I walk around with a weight on my chest. Everything reminds me of him. Everything makes me want to just sit down and give up. But am I going to? HELL NO. I have so much to live for, so much to fight for, and while there's this hole in my heart that I feel like all of my will is draining out through, I know that I'll get through this. Everyone goes through loss. It's conquerable. Padme has spent nearly all of her life in politics and then fighting for what she believed in, and she couldn't bear to stick around a little longer and if nothing else, try to sway the man she loved back to the good that she knew was in there? I call bullshit. George Lucas really needs to learn what to do with women.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That being said, I loved everything else. Palpatine is still my favorite character. He's so dreadfully campy and evil and wonderful. He knows he's got everything under control and that he's the puppet master. His seduction of Anakin makes me squee. And chucking senate pods around? Loved it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Obi-Wan was the best character in the movie. I felt so bad for him when everything that he had worked so hard to preserve and nurture was falling apart. His anguished cry of "You were supposed to defeat the Sith, not join them! Bring balance to the Force, not leave it in darkness!" made me gasp.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Order 66 and the ending duel between Anakin and Obi-Wan are tied as my favorite sequences. I'm not the biggest fan of the jedi being caught off-guard. I do think they should have at least gotten the chance to fight a little bit before being overwhelmed by sheer numbers, but it's such a sad scene that it doesn't jump out at me until after the movie is over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Loved Obi-Wan taking on Grievous. Yay, lightsabers and lots of them! &lt; / fanboy &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not the best summary, but hey, since when do I post in-depth reviews?</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.alias-grace.com/blog/2005/06/rots-review-belated-but-so-was-my.html'></link><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8866106/posts/default/112295129149522237'></link><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8866106/posts/default/112295129149522237'></link><author><name>Emily</name></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8866106.post-112295087504005325</id><published>2005-06-20T21:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-01T19:47:55.046-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My favorite Jordan story is about his gift giving ...</title><content type='html'>My favorite Jordan story is about his gift giving tendencies. Jordan loved to give gifts, for no reason at all. But his idea of appropriate gifts was occasionally rather strange. For Valentine's Day, he, looking like the cat who got the canary, gave me a Hot Topic Nightmare Before Christmas bag. I thanked him, thinking that that was really odd, but sweet that he made the effort. Then I noticed that he was still giving me that shit eating grin. "Nooo! Look inside!" Well, inside it was quite possibly the most appropriate Valentine's Day gift ever - The Key to Hell from &lt;i&gt;The Sandman&lt;/i&gt;. I fell in love with him all over again at that. Many men give their girls flowers, chocolates and jewelry... How many take the time to know her well enough to get the one prop that she's been coveting for years?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jordan was just like that. He was the sweetest, most thoughtful man I've ever met. And it wasn't contrived or worked at. That was just *him*. He knew what to say to make you feel better. He knew how to make anyone laugh at the drop of a hat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even after I broke up with him, he made an amazing effort to be friendly to me while I was being a confused idiot. We became closer and closer again in the months leading up to Celebration III. He was helping me plan my armor, and just generally being a great friend. We met up at CIII Saturday evening, and after seeing the worst movie on the face of this earth (&lt;i&gt;Sahara&lt;/i&gt;) we went to a restaurant and sat talking for hours. It felt like coming home. Talking to Jordan and catching up with everything that had happened in the past few months was amazing. At the end of the evening, he walked me home (in freezing weather, him without a coat) and we kissed. I thought that it was the first for this new chapter. It turned out to be the last. After CIII we were back to calling every night and constantly IMing as if the past 8 months had never happened, both of us signing off with 'Love, Jordan' or ending the call with 'nightiloveyou'. While I wasn't sure if he would take me back, I began to let myself hope that everything would be okay again and my stupid decision in August would be in the past.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I got the call May 17th, I was watching Episode 1 and getting stuff together for work the next day. I knew when my mom called me down saying that Jordan's father was on the phone something was wrong. I ran down the steps saying pleaselethimbeokay pleaselethimbeokay. When he said "Emily, Jordan was in an automobile accident and he didn't make it." my entire world fell apart. I collapsed in the middle of the kitchen and had my parents not been there with me, I honestly don't think I would have been able to pick myself back up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now I'm trying to make a new future for myself that doesn't include him, and it's really hard, but I'm beginning to see the light at the end of the tunnel. I do feel like he's there, somewhere, with me, probably making snarky comments about slash or my tendency to go ::thud:: at pretty blonde boys. Somehow that's comforting to me, thinking that wherever he is, he's still Jordan. I don't like the idea of perfect, harp and wings angels. It makes more sense for Jordan to be sitting up in the afterlife, having a Guinness and MSTing us. It's silly, but it's comforting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently I've rediscovered faith? And I'm still a heathen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. Yes, I can see you facepalming up there, Sweetie. You knew that I was incorrigible when you met me.</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.alias-grace.com/blog/2005/06/my-favorite-jordan-story-is-about-his.html'></link><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8866106/posts/default/112295087504005325'></link><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8866106/posts/default/112295087504005325'></link><author><name>Emily</name></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8866106.post-111196729867542814</id><published>2005-03-27T15:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-27T15:48:18.676-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Note to self:

 The proper response to "He is rise...</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Note to self:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; The proper response to "He is risen!"  is &lt;b&gt;not&lt;/b&gt; "I knew we should have staked him and buried him at a crossroads."</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.alias-grace.com/blog/2005/03/note-to-self-proper-response-to-he-is.html'></link><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8866106/posts/default/111196729867542814'></link><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8866106/posts/default/111196729867542814'></link><author><name>Emily</name></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8866106.post-110973980094608562</id><published>2005-03-01T21:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-01T21:03:20.946-08:00</updated><title type='text'>An Appropriate Midnight Post</title><content type='html'>An appropriate topic for a midnight post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've learned one thing in the past two weeks: Infatuation and arsenic poisoning are very similar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They both:&lt;br /&gt;Make your mouth feel dry.&lt;br /&gt;Make your heart race.&lt;br /&gt;Make you feel warm in a cool room.&lt;br /&gt;Make your stomach do backflips.&lt;br /&gt;Make your head feel like it's a million miles away.&lt;br /&gt;And really, all you can do about either is sit back and laugh about the situation you find yourself in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only real difference is that arsenic poisoning makes your mouth taste metallicy. Infatuation just sort of tastes like green apple martinis.</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.alias-grace.com/blog/2005/03/appropriate-midnight-post.html'></link><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8866106/posts/default/110973980094608562'></link><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8866106/posts/default/110973980094608562'></link><author><name>Emily</name></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8866106.post-110844101218734941</id><published>2005-02-14T20:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-14T20:23:05.023-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Books or People?</title><content type='html'>There are some days for people, and some days for books. This was a day for books. Dreary, overcast, and enough people making out in public that you couldn't swing a cat without hitting a pair (Would consider doing that if it weren't cruel to the cat).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I went to the Half-Price Bookstore, which now owns my soul. For $19.50, I acquired &lt;i&gt;The Metamorphoses&lt;/i&gt; (Gregory translation), &lt;i&gt;The Canterbury Tales&lt;/i&gt;, &lt;i&gt;Gilgamesh&lt;/i&gt; (Mason translation), &lt;i&gt;Coming of Age in Samoa&lt;/i&gt;, &lt;i&gt;The Romantic Poets from Blake to Poe&lt;/i&gt; (a much needed volume, as mine was held together by a rubber band and some packing tape), &lt;i&gt;The Portable Greek Reader&lt;/i&gt; and two cds: Michelle Malone's &lt;i&gt;For You, Not Them&lt;/i&gt; and The Beta Band's &lt;i&gt;The Three E.P.s&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am feeling very pleased with myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now if I could just beat my writer's block into submission, all would be perfect. Since I don't feel like attempting that, I'm going to curl up with &lt;i&gt;The Marriage of Sticks&lt;/i&gt; and a latté. Mmm, fantastic realism and overpriced caffeine.</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.alias-grace.com/blog/2005/02/books-or-people.html'></link><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8866106/posts/default/110844101218734941'></link><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8866106/posts/default/110844101218734941'></link><author><name>Emily</name></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8866106.post-110679344026121891</id><published>2005-01-26T18:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-26T18:40:16.840-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ghost Stories and Apparitions</title><content type='html'>Kelly and Stephanie were doing a program on the Nature's Trading Post porch. While they were working with some visitors, I was looking into the window and noticed something very strange...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.alias-grace.com/img/cmc/tradingpostghost_600.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It looks like Shirley the ghost has some competition!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Shirley's Tale&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shirley is a ghost who is said to haunt the Cincinnati Museum Center. The Museum Center is in an old Art Deco (finished in 1933) train station that has gone through several different incarnations in the past. So you would expect some ghosts. Shirley is the only one that has been associated with a specific person. During renovations to turn it into a suitable museum complex, a night security guard was shot and killed in what is now our office area. Her name was Shirley, so any and all odd happenings on our floor are attributed to Shirley's ghost.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I don't put much stock in ghost stories, but I'll admit to being easily spooked. It's easy to see how putting a name and a face to your fear makes it a little more containable. A little less bad. Especially when I'm alone in the offices and listening to the creaks and moans of an old building and wind shrieking outside of the windows. At those times, I am more than willing to say "Hey, Shirley, will you cut it out? I'm trying to get some work done!"&lt;br /&gt;</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.alias-grace.com/blog/2005/01/ghost-stories-and-apparitions.html'></link><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8866106/posts/default/110679344026121891'></link><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8866106/posts/default/110679344026121891'></link><author><name>Emily</name></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8866106.post-109876062005045601</id><published>2004-10-25T20:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-25T20:17:00.050-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Not dead yet!</title><content type='html'>No, you're not imagining things. The blog is back. I've missed this old girl. ::pets it::&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I'm web-adhd. I can't keep doing the same thing for too long or I get tired of it. I flit from design to message boards to rpgs to fandom and back. Luckily I got Alias-Grace.com back just in time to stop me from going insane not having any design stuff to play around with. Now that it is back, I have about twenty other projects I should be working on, including but not limited to:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Studying for my &lt;i&gt;Gender and Philosophy&lt;/i&gt; midterm.&lt;br /&gt;2. Working on my &lt;a href="http://www.nanowrimo.org"&gt;NaNoWriMo&lt;/a&gt; outline.&lt;br /&gt;3. Figuring out just what I want to do with my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, so the last one isn't really on my to-do list. I'm quite happy with my currently place of indecision. As for the other two, I just finished my &lt;i&gt;Women and Labor&lt;/i&gt; midterm, and the &lt;i&gt;Intro to Sociology&lt;/i&gt; one was as laughable as the class itself. It took fifteen minutes, and that was with me checking my answers three times. Mental note: Next quarter, do not listen to advisor when they say that you should take the intro class, despite having three years of education in the social sciences. &lt;b&gt;Trust your data!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now I'm figuring that the NaNovel is going to do what it wants to despite any planning I do. I have two strong characters, three need-to-be-worked-on characters, a plot and hopefully can keep the zombies at bay for at least the first half of the month. I keep telling them that I'm writing Chick Lit this time, and Chick Lit is characterized by a decided lack of zombies. They just roll their eyes at me (then they pick up the eyes that just fell out of their heads in the process of rolling them), and go about their business. Whatever a zombie's business is. I don't ask.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the fourth, and unlisted Thing To Do Instead Of Messing With Site is sleep. And that is what I will do now. Adieu&lt;br /&gt;</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.alias-grace.com/blog/2004/10/not-dead-yet.html'></link><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8866106/posts/default/109876062005045601'></link><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8866106/posts/default/109876062005045601'></link><author><name>Emily</name></author></entry></feed>