Jaune Chat's Life, the Universe, and Everything

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I want something meaningful done with it. I'm an organ donator, so, if possible, I want them to use all my parts. Heart, eyes, liver, kidneys, skin, whatever someone else can use, I want it done. Pay it forward! If I live to be pretty old and my bits aren't going to last much longer than I, then I'm going to donate my body to science. I want it given to a local medical university to be used as a cadaver so medical students can learn to be doctors. My maternal grandparents did this, and there was a lovely ceremony in about a year after each of their deaths, where they bury the cremated remains of all the donors were interred. It was very moving. Both my parents have signed up for that upon their deaths.

And if neither of those are possible, I want my bones stripped and my skeleton on display/as a teaching aid!

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Huh, that's a pickle. Assuming that as a vampire I'm one of the kind of hot Underworld-style vampires rather than the bestial 30 Days of Night vampires, that could be kinda fun. Though I would miss all the daylight things. I've been on night shift before for two whole years, so I've had a taste of a nocturnal existance. Though I'd have plenty of time to write, I wouldn't be able to garden, go to the Farmer's Market, or go shopping at most places. But alternatively there would be other vampires around to hang with, and I'd be super fast or strong or have really keen senses, depending on what version of vampire I was.

On the other hand, as a vampire hunter, I'd either be keeping the same hours as a vampire, or doing all my hunting during the day. Or both, really messing up my circadean rhythm. And while I'd have the job satisfaction of ridding the world of evil undead, I would also be putting my family and friends in jeopardy constantly. I mean, who wants the stress of having to not only fight against vampires but have to constantly worry that your loved ones are going to end up in the crossfire? That would not be cool.

In short, I think I'd be a vampire. Mostly because I'm kind of a lazy ass, and having to haul around weapons all the time would be exhausting.

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I don't know if better is the word I'm looking for, but one song does stick in my mind. John Lennon's "Imagine" was covered by A Perfect Circle, who did it in a minor key. It turned the song from a plea for love and peace into something fascinatingly dark and mysterious (though still about love).

One that I thought was definitely covered better was Cyndi Lauper's "Time After Time," which was covered by Quietdrive. Quietdrive's version is actually something I could listen too over and over again, while I have a limit on how much Cyndi I can take in a session.

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Castiel is the appropriate icon because me, my husband, and another couple are going to be the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse this year to hand out candy! Alas, we will not be the Supernatural versions of said Horsemen, as we don't have a red Mustang, or a wheelchair.

We're going old school. I shall be Death. My yearly costume is an executioner, with an ugly mask that has a black hood built into it, a long gray robe (big enough that I can hunch over and you can't see I'm female), and the most bad-ass axe I could buy from the costume shop. My husband is going to be Pestilance. We have some black and purple robes and a beaked carnivale mask that looks those worn by doctors during the Black Death. A friend of ours will be War. He's a big, strong guy (was a linebacker in high school) who's in ARMA (Association for the Renaissance Martial Arts). So he knows how to kill people with swords, and owns a couple to bring along. His wife, a very small woman, will be Famine. We're still working on her costume, but it will likely involve a scary "starved" mask and ragged clothing. Then we pepper the yard with gravestones, put on the scariest theme music we can find, and try to scare the living bejeebus out of all the boys and girls. It's gonna be awesome!

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Seriously? Um...

1. Porn. Either me rereading porn stories to myself in my head or crafting my own.
2. Plots for my latest stories that aren't included in the above category.
3. Worrying about my job situation.
4. Food. Either what I should have, when I'll be having it, or what kind I can make.
5. TV. What's on the DVR or what I haven't watched yet but need to.

I'm not that complex of an individual when in comes to internal conversations, really. I save heavy social-political situations for when I'm talking with people other than myself.

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Oh, this is an easy one. Lloyd Dobler holding a boom box over his head playing Peter Gabriel's "In Your Eyes" outside of Diane Court's house in the pouring rain in "Say Anything." Best romantic movie scene ever, because it's emotional and says so much about both characters without even saying a lot. It's both obvious and very subtle, and the music choice is aces.

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Well, in terms of just straight-up phobia-type fears? I had a fear of bugs. And yes, though a certain amount of self-desensitizing, I've mostly been able to conquer it. I would have the most girly jump-and-scream reactions to bugs of any sort, particularly the unexpected bug. I still do a bit of the jumping if a bug is unexpectedly found on my person (which is more a startlement reaction, I believe), but if I can see the bug first, I have little problem squashing or picking it up, depending on the situation and the bug.

I started to work through it at summer camp when I was fairly young, because we lived in cabins and were going in and out all the time. There were daddy longlegs, mosquitoes, moths, and other bugs, and you either had to get used to them, or spend all of the week in fear and disgust. And when you have so much to do at camp, you really can't spare the time to get worked up as much about bugs.

I deliberately worked on getting over any latent fear in college. Our dorm had many centipedes that we called "walking moustaches," because their legs were so long they did indeed look like a moustache. I was the resident bug-squasher because A: I tended to wear hiking boots, which are eminently suited for bug-squashing, and B: I was one of the few that would steel myself to get close enough for squashing.

In addition, there was a college-wide festival each year in which every department would put on some kind of display. The entomology department was amongst them, and they had an insect petting zoo. I made myself go all five years I was there to deliberately handle insects to get myself over any weird reactions. I have put my hands in a tub of mealworms, handled a Madagascar hissing cockroach, touched a tarantula's leg, and let a 8-inch long giant African millipede walk all over my hand. I actually contemplated owning a giant millipede for a while, but I was afraid it would escape and one of my roommates might crush it, so I gave up that idea.

While I'm not the world's biggest fan of bugs, I no longer do a jump-and-shriek routine when confronted with them, and that's just dandy by me. If any of my family or friends need someone to capture or crush a spider, trap a bat, or try to remove a snake, they know they can call me to do it.

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Well, I don't know if I have best birthday gift, per se. My birthday is very close to Christmas, and while my family has always been very careful to separate the two occasions, the gifts tend to blur in my mind. But I do have one very memorable birthday gift that I still have to this day.

On my 14th birthday, my parents gave me a Swiss Army knife. My father was a Boy Scout, and both of my parents had been counselors at a Y camp that I had attended for many years (a total of 12 before I was too old). So the knife was partially that "be prepared" philosophy. It was also a symbol, at least to me, of both responsibility and respect. It was not a weapon, but rather a tool that could be used in many different situations. When someone needed a package opened, a container pierced, or any other small task done, the person with the right tool could be there for them. So... that was my most memorable gift.