nothing's impossible
just have to find a way

"Farewell happy Fields
Where Joy for ever dwells: Hail horrors, hail
Infernal world, and thou profoundest Hell
Receive thy new Possessor: One who brings
A mind not to be chang'd by Place or Time.

The mind is its own place, and in itself
Can make a Heav'n of Hell, a Hell of Heav'n.
What matter where, if I be still the same,
And what I should be, all but less than he.
Whom Thunder hath made greater? Here at least
We shall be free; th' Almighty hath not built
Here for his envy, will not drive us hence:
Here we may reign secure, and in my choice
To reign is worth ambition though in Hell:
Better to reign in Hell, than serve in Heav'n

John Milton, Paradise Lost; Book One
♥♥♥

rien ne pèse tant
que un secret.

"Can I have your turquoise suit?!!@!@1"

Saturday, May 1, 2010 / 2:25 AM

Waking up this morning, I basically had one goal: go get some Chinese food with Cheri.

Naturally, I became conscious at one thirty in the afternoon, sent out a quick text to my dearest aforementioned friend and plopped my laptop on my stomach for a quick e-mail check before I began to clean up around the house.

Meh. Necessary. Bathroom's squeaky clean, living room looks livable, guest room looks like a guest can actually stay there. Sense of accomplishment: +1.

To share a little bit about the layout, I tossed on a few I'd found on some decent sites but none of them seemed to fit right. The cute French one was quirky but... too cute. The one after that (the foundation for this layout) reminded me of my fourteen-year-old angsty mentality. Ugh. Then, I talked to Cheri about it. I love how I can talk to her about this stuff since we both used to code and design our own domains and art school only made it better. See, her personal space? Cool, huh?

It makes me wish I'd never chickened out of web design or graphic design before. It was huge with me back then. I used to be able to pump some cool stuff with code to go with it... what happened? I have no idea.

Anyway, I remembered from before, that the only way a place ever felt truly 'mine' was if I created every nook of it. So, booted up CS3 and got to work. I had an idea of how I wanted it to look as I was picking images for it... I wanted to show the yin and yang in my mind and in my... I dunno, heart? Soul? Whatever, you get the idea. I remembered messing with layers, with brushes, with actions, with blend modes... it all seemed so simplistic and amateur. Mind you, this was four in the morning so I wasn't really thinking. At all. When the final product emerged and I flattened all the layers... man. I'd forgotten how awesome it felt to create something pretty. Something that said, 'Ria.' I applied it, messed with it a bit more and made spaces for the code. Not too shabby.

Um... disorganization.

After cleaning, Cheri and I headed to the Asian Express... walking of course. I hate driving on that particular part of North Ave. and I hate crossing it even more so. Why do people drive like morons in Melrose Park? We were barely there when I get a text from Onix, the leader of the boys and the organization (club doesn't really fit. They're more close friends than anything), texted me, reminding me about roller derby tonight. Aw, shit. I hate cutting things short with friends. We hurried to my house with our food and after a brief hissy fit from my mother, after I asked her to take me to the Blue line in Forest Park, she takes me to the Green line in Forest Park.

I guess its the thought that counts.

Roller derby was cooler than I thought it would be. I had to catch on to the rules because I had no idea what I was cheering for or what was happening - it just looked fun. I goofed up however, with Mr. Mumble, the announcer and his turquoise suit. Stupid me. Learn to read lips.

At one point, he ran past us and I'm overexcited, hopping around like someone just pumped squirrels into my bloodstream and, without even knowing what I was going to scream, I belt out, "I LOVE YOU!"

WHAT?

Mr. Mumble turned and looked around for the source of the cracked out scream with his hands out and... what's his name? Bill? Whatever. He points at me. It hit me, at the point, what I just did. Buried my face in my hands and looked up just enough to see a hand gesture pointing at the door and him saying something and I shook my head, still laughing. About five seconds later, Onix and Ramon looked at me after realizing I was completely oblivious to what had he had really said, explained: Mr. Mumble had actually said, "Wanna get out of here?"

Ha. Oh, well. Hopefully, he'll forget.

We will not speak of the atrocity of that Blackhawks vs. Canucks game.

Labels: hockey, roller derby, the boys

ogni cuore
ha il suo dolore

If you're here, you've somehow managed to stumble across my blog. The word blog makes me think of snooty fashionistas in New York writing about their later escapades in their pink Mercedes so we'll just call this the place were Ria (yours truly) can spit out whatever the hell she wants with no responsibility or thought about who she might be offending.

Also, if you're reading this, you might want to know a few things. This is my fifth attempt at successfully keeping a record of my thoughts and doings - after a few LiveJournals, a former Blog (if you peek around you might find it), and a few paper journals - so, I figure this might be the last chance I'll give myself to write everyday - if not possible then every other day - about what's going on through my head.

N o, you're not handcuffed to a chair. You may leave if you will. ~~Go watch porn.~~

My basic goal with this is to try to flesh out the philosophies, memories, thoughts that make me - me.

Truthfully, I just want to write again. I miss it.