My Final Is Today

Gross Profit Margin

Return on Investments, Ugh

I want it over

SSSSSSSSsssssnake!

Photo copyright: Victoryachasegoestotherapy.blogspot.com

My camera, my beautifully red and slim camera, apparently has a reformat button which apparently deletes everything on the memory card and apparently is quite easy to accidently hit.

This is a slightly older pic, a couple months, from a walk in the park near my house. Now, that's a boa, and no it's not loose in the park. The person I was walking with is the owner of the snake and we were taking it for a walk.

You get a lot of double-takes when you are taking a snake out for a walk. Puppies have children running up to you, snakes have macho men trying to touch it (without asking first) and saying, "Oh, DAMN!" a lot.

She's actually a sweetie, very patient, and on the few walks we've been on together, some longer than others, has yet to go to the bathroom on her owner. She's also curious and I think I've noticed a sense of humour in her eyes on more than one occassion. Who knew?

Day of the Dead

Photo Copyright: Victoryachasegoestotherapy.blogspot.com

Saturday I went to the Day of the Dead celebration at the National Museum of the American Indian. I go for the opening ceremonies, and had I not had to go somewhere else during the day, would have loved to stay for the closing.

What I love about the opening is the conch shells moaning into the mist (it's always rained when I've gone) and the drums beating a rhythm straight into my heart. It just feels so right.

The first time I went, a few years ago, it was pretty mystical. I had worked a couple hours first (yes, on a Saturday) and just as I crossed the street a car lost control ramming into a parked car that went up on the sidewalk where a street vendor jumped over his table just as the parked car was pushed into his wares. All of this happened just inches from me. Then the fog set in, so by the time I got down to the museum, you could barely see in front of you. The sound of those conches coming through the mist was amazing.

They have activities too, so I was able to paint a couple of simple skulls for my desk at work :)

The Glow of a Controlled Fire

Photo Copyright: Victoryachasegoestotherapy.blogspot.com

I'd never taken a picture of fire before. Fortunately, this was a contained one, the fire we all ate around at the farm. My prayers go to those in other places where the fire isn't so well trained.

Some Day My Prints Will Come

Photo Copyright: Victoryachasegoestotherapy.blogspot.com

Because we worked so hard making the puppets this weekend, I don't feel comfortable posting the pics until after their debut at the Greenwich parade next Wednesday. The above was a photo from the farm. I loved the composition. A little bit creepy/dark, and a lot bit interesting (to me).

The day really was grand. I spent four hours making one wing, then went on to touch-ups of other things. There were a good dozen of us, not including the people who spent all day cooking. We ate fresh soup with vegetables grown by one of the workers, as well as some grilled cheese sandwiches - something I haven't had in a while. As the sun set, we walked down to the river and there were these two cute cats that followed us, meowing that we pet them and pick them up. I definately fell in love with one of those kitties, and needed some fuzz therapy.

We also saw deer (I only got a photo of their eyes in the darkness, they were too far away) which was amazing, even if it had me then put my pants inside my socks and hood up over my head as deers mean ticks.

After the river we went back and had dinner around a fire.

Can a Manic Monday Happen On a Wednesday?

Photo Copyright: victoryachasegoestotherapy.blogspot.com

I think yesterday was the first weekday I missed posting. We have Board Members in all week, so have to 'suit up.' Like the Fantastic Four only with calculators and spreadsheets.

The above was taken from the farm. The sun had almost set at that point. I finally uploaded a few pics. I loved the colors on the horizon. Notice the 'purple mountains majesty.'

Monday!

Saturday was an awesome weekend, and I hope to get the pictures cropped and resized soon. I went to a farm upstate. Sunday was a 'booo, hisss' day as it was gorgeous and I had to stay inside to do homework for that class I don't like.

So, thought I'd put up a haiku I wrote a while ago while dealing with the bi-polar nature of my mother.

I reach for your hand

Between anger and remorse

And try to find love

Christmas Card

Photo Copyright: Victoryachasegoestotherapy.blogspot.com

I thought this one looked like a nice Christmas Card. I don't know if the red berries on the tree are visible at all.

Last night we had to work late, got home just in time to fall asleep and then had to be to work early today. I was able to get out to see my therapist earlier in the week though, despite the hectic schedule and school.

"So, what about that letter from your Uncle struck you the most?" She asked.

"That he said he was my uncle, and that he called me his neice," I replied.

I can't beleive how long it's been since there's been any familial connection. I can't beleive I cried when I read it. Being a friend is great, but being called a neice? It was surreal in a good way.

Venting

Cherished recently posted about ignorance in the media on her talk about Judge Judy. It’s all too easy to commiserate, as there is a lot of that out there.

I had my finance class last night, as I do twice a week. We were learning about liquidity ratios. Then the instructor decided to go on a diatribe about the poor in America.

“If we are going to talk about poverty though, it’s really more poverty in values than material objects,” he said. He then continued to talk about how thanks to Welfare the poor in this country “all have VCRs and DVD players and the biggest radios. In fact, the reason why immigrants come to this country is to be the fat poor.”

Wow, double whammy, slamming immigrants AND the poor in the U.S.

After class I decided to tell him that yes, that was offensive, and perpetrating a myth that keeps others from helping those who need it most. He apologized, said he’d keep it out of the classroom, and I was fine, till I turned to leave and he said:

“I really am sorry that the truth offends you, but it’s the truth, it’s the way these people live, and I’m sorry you don’t want to see that.”

There was one student left in the class when I went up to him, and she was waiting for me outside the door. We had a nice talk about ignorance and how we do have to face a lot of it especially in the finance field which is dominated (at least in NYC) with a special breed of people. I’ve faced it at work before when ‘the girls,’ these two women in the office my age, were laughing over a photo of what they called a white trash wedding. They thought it was pathetic that people would wear ‘such cheap clothing’ on their wedding day. It was an e-mail forward they had gotten. I was livid that day too, telling them if people are happy, they’re in love, what does it matter what they are wearing?

“But it looks like it came from Wal-Mart!” one said.

Ugh. My final in this class is on Halloween. I can’t wait. I’m still debating sending off a note to the dean.

The Truth is Out There

Photo Copyright: Victoryachasegoestotherapy.blogspot.com

My favorite of the night-time shots I took. Sums up how I feel sometimes. That the truth, civilization, life, is just across this vast expanse of water and I'm figuring out a way to get there. But again, sometimes, more often than before I feel like I am with 'the lights' and friends. Heck, I've even gotten a second letter from a person who says he's an uncle (and he's not asking for money! Every other relative that's come out of the woodwork has then asked for money).

Thanks to all my blogging friends :) I feel evolution.

Another Day, Another Dollar Before Taxes

Image Copyright: Victoryachasegoestotherapy.blogspot.com

Ugh. Times are so stressful right now that I'm avoiding talking about them and thinking of ways to avoid talking to my therapist about them - a wonderful sign. Avoidance, it's what I do best. It's one of the symptoms - the dream to run away, to just get out, to be safe with yourself alone.

Of course, the main thing I want to run away from is my impending surgery. I don't like being trapped or feeling broken. I feel broken enough as it is at times. I think 'differently,' 'act differently,' if people become inconsistent in their behaviours I think they are up to something rather than things may be happening in their lives that they are having trouble with. Now, for a while, I'll be holed up in my apartment with naught but ze internet to keep me company.

I'm also having a hard time switching 'brains' lately. I decided, since I'd be stuck all Rear Window in my house, to take an online writing course which I'm enjoying. However, I'm taking a real life finance course. This weekend, when I had homework due for both, it took a lot for me to switch from story mode to Financial Statement Analysis Mode. If nothing else, it proves the mode I should be in, that my brain wants to be in. Why must I suffer the slings and arrows of ballance sheets and vertical analysis?

Because I want to pay the rent.

Anyone out there want to be a generous sponsor like in the good ol' days? Heck, I'll dedicate my first published item to you. Artists should be free of the confines and shackles of finance so they may spend their time creating art. Art is the proof of existence of life.

*sigh*

Well, since I don't have the time to write as much as I'd like, I'm trying to 'write with my photos' as it were. I used to do this when I painted more often, take pictures and then use them to influence current work, much as Chewy has described her process (only she's a way better painter than I ever was). Now I'm doing that to try and keep ideas for future writing assignments.

So, what kind of story does the above look like to you?

Night Time, Autumn in the City

Photo Copyright: Victoryachasegoestotherapy.blogspot.com

I decided to try some night time shots. I know that the building on the right is a boathouse, the one across the water is a highrise - I think the other lights are the train station, but don't remember exactly.

Running Away

Franz Jüttner (1865–1925): Illustration fom Schneewittchen, Scholz' Künstler-Bilderbücher, Mainz 1905

This week David of Authorblog asks his readers if they have ever run away from home. I think I’ve mentioned before that I ran away a few times. I used to hide under my bed a lot. I liked the frame underneath, it was a spring mattress I think. I remember steal grey rods that I would stare up at, a maze of metal grating, like chicken wire, to support the mattress. I would hide under there and listen for my parents looking for me and smile because I was safe. For the most part, the bed was safe. At least, under the bed.

I once had a child eating bed. It was a hand me down from somewhere. But every time I climbed out of bed it bit my toe. My mother wouldn’t believe me, but then there was the blood evidence. Forensics would have found that the bed indeed was biting me, my mother said I got out of it wrong. She checked all corners for sharp edges, everything in the room. It was months of my toe getting bitten before we finally took that villain out of the house.

There was another time I ran away to Trin’s house and I sat on the floor eating out of the communal bowl with her family. When I was older, a teenager, a friend and I ran off with the circus. That adventure lasted a few days. We had both gone to dinner with a couple of the men that worked there, in ‘the oldest traveling circus in the United States’ before we left to follow them. It wasn’t even like we ran away for the thrill of saying – for three days we were part of the circus. We did it to get away from our families, to try and discover who we were outside the life regimented to us.

However, the number one way that I ran away is now called dissociation. That was how the name Victorya developed. Granted, now it’s just the name to remind me, but on a daily basis I went to this land where I was the sad beautiful little girl with no parents. I lived alone and peacefully in a little cottage and the nice ladies brought me food and there was music, always music. I talked to all the animals and my real mother was Nature, I was her only child. That was the main place I ran to in my life. I slipped out of the burden of being ‘the bratty little ragamuffin’ or ‘bitch’ (the first was my ‘nickname’ in my earlier years, the latter my mother’s ‘pet name’ for me as I hit puberty) and became Sister to Diana, protector of the wildlife, Victorya, The Last. A lot of times I was just ‘the Last’ in those fantasies. A child of enigma.

So yes, I ran away as a child. When I couldn’t do so physically, or realized I would always be caught and dragged back home, I did so mentally. I ran away to a world in which I was always safe, always valued, and always loved.

This One's For You, Fish

Photo Copyright: VictoryaChaseGoestotherapy.blogspot.com

There is vandalous grafitti, and cool grafitti. All over the sidewalks the past weekend were chalk drawings, I took a couple photos of them. One was labelled 'birfday boy and bruthah' and then there was this fish. I love the lips and the expression on the fishy face. I don't mind the chalk drawings at all, some I just feel bad that they wash away so quickly!

And yeah, dedicated to my favorite fish on the web, fishwithoutbicycle.

The Other Side Of NYC

Image Copyright: Victoryachasegoestotherapy.blogspot.com

I kept getting an error on blogger, or else this would have been put up sooner. This picture was taken the same day as the bee photo. Unfortunately, this type of useless vandalous graffiti is a problem around the city. This is also how I first thought of the city.

I remember (a looong time ago) going to NYC with the Salvation Army. It was a field trip to see the Yankees. I was happy because they were playing against the Tigers - and I was a cat fan. Now, this was before a lot of the clean-up in the city so it was a harrowing experience. The cars we saw were coated with graffiti, as was all the bridges/walls along the highway. People were loud and yelling and cursing and bumping into each other. We were each given a few dollars to by a souvenir and I purchased a Tiger's pendant. Others in my group told me we'd get beaten up because I was cheering for the wrong team, so I had to put it under my jacket.

Unfortunately, the graffiti is in every neighborhood. NYC is an entire globe forced into twelve miles of island. We have the beautiful relaxing parks right next to the projects and gangs. There is no escaping anything the world has to offer in this city - the beautiful and the ugly co-exist. And, for the most part, it's pretty darn peaceful.

Busy As A Bee

Photo Copyright: Victoryachasegoestotherapy.blogspot.com

This weekend I played around with the macro setting on my camera, this was the only one that wasn't terribly blurry. I think the bee was just sitting perfectly still by then, completely stunned by my flash.

This is dedicated to all the other busy bees out there, most notably the godfather of so many blogs - David McMahon. Best with getting the book finished! Hopefully it will hit our shelves soon. Just try and take some time out to smell the flowers, okay?

I Want To Fly Away

photo copyright: victoryachasegoestotherapy.blogspot.com
camera used: Casio ex-s500 (red)


This was a tough weekend for me. The landlord was supposed to fix my window, which involved me taking a day off of work because the window repair shop is only open weekdays. Now, the day was to involve them removing my window, then bringing it to the shop to return around noon - which would leave me without a window in my apartment. So of course, the Super (think of him as the apartment manager, supposed to repair things in the building) says he doesn't want to stop by before work so he'll take the window out at night.

"No way" I tell him.

"You be safe," he says, thickening his accent (I swear it's to claim ignorance).

"No way," I tell him.

Meanwhile, when I call the landlord, he tells me that I should go to work, I shouldn't miss work because they have to fix my window.

"So you'll have someone posted then, to make sure no one climbs up the fire escape and into my apartment."

"No," he says, now his accent starts to thicken, "I don't guarantee safety."

Long story short, I go way longer than I'm supposed to without a window to my apartment. When the landlord drops it off, he doesn't put it in but runs out the door. I notice the frame isn't on correctly. The super hits it with something (coming up AFTER he ate dinner, despite me talking to his wife who covered for him) to make it fit, but it still worries me. I call the landlord again, but nothing.

Now, the number one trigger for me is safety. I spent over 12 hours without a window in my apartment - safety compromised. My cackles are up, or whatever the phrase is, and I hate the feeling of the racing heart, the inability to sleep (waking up every few hours), the jumping at every sound (the pigeons were landing on my AC all weekend, every scrape of their claws on the metal had me jumping), the lack of focus (meaning I got no homework done) and the desire to flee far away from here. It of course, also led to a couple dreams with both R. and Mother, but at least I told them both off. However, I wasn't able to get away from Bush when he decided to reinstate the draft for all genders, everyone under the age of 35. So last night, in my dream, there I was in the military.

At least I have the park, I took a nice walk to cool myself off. That's a seagull. I couldn't beleive how lucky I was to get this shot - there he is, wings fully spread, tips turned up, as he soars out over the water. That's a freedom I wish I had over the weekend.

NYC Trifecta

photo copyright: victoryachasegoestotherapy.blogspot.com

camera used: Casio ex-s500 (red)

I took this photo about a year ago. The day was drizzly damp but cool. I always liked this photo because it is total new york. First, there is the Papaya King, a purely NYC entity where, if one was to eat hot dogs, one could get them for about 2 for a dollar.

Next, we have the ubiquitous yellow cab. They are everywhere, even in the news lately as they threaten to strike over GPS placement in their cabs. I rode in a cab that had GPS before - and they still went in the completely opposite direction. I think it just creates a false sense of security to have those types of systems around, as people become reliant on them and allow the erroneous information of the unit to overtake common sense.

Finally, we have the steam being released. Those orange and white cylinders are all over the city, releasing pent up steam lest it explode (as it did a while ago near work. The streets are finally closer to normal there). It makes me think of this island of Manhattan as a giant whale and these are all the blowholes. Sometimes you can feel the streets breathing as you walk down them.

Oh, and the sign on the cab advertises Avenue Q - a great play on Broadway I was lucky enough to see with the original cast. If you haven't heard of it - think South Park meets Sesame Street. A little bit raunchy, definately not for kids (one of the characters is Sally the Slut) but a lot of laughs to be had.

Lining Up All My Ducks In A Row

Photo Copyright: Victoryachasegoestotherapy.blogspot.com

The sun had already begun to descend at this point and was well behind the trees so there was just the 'afterglow.' I love how, instead of congregating on dry land or waddling through the mud, the ducks settled into the only little stream of water they could find.

It's All Happening At The Zoo

(image taken from answers.com, released into public domain)

Today, I was walking through the cubicles at work, as I do every morning on my way to the kitchen to get my horrible for me Diet Coke with the brain killing Aspartame and something hit me, and it wasn’t the filing cabinet drawer that people continually leave open. It was the name plate on the outside of the cubicles. They say:

Finance > Accounts Payable > John Smith

Or

Finance > Accounting > Mary Smith

And go on and on like that, Finance > Sub group > Name

Then my brain flashed, as it sometimes does, to a point in my life when I’ve seen something similar.

The zoo.

Rodentia > Abrocomidae > Chinchilla

Primates > Lemuridae > Lemurs

Primates > Hominids > Human

I had to stop walking while this sunk in. It’s a zoo, a human zoo. Order: Finance, Family: Financial Planning, Class: Victorya.

We push levers for rewards, given toys to ‘stimulate us,’ and live in our little cages in specific areas of the zoo.

So, what’s your order and family?

Sunset

Photo Copyright: Victoryachasegoestotherapy.blogspot.com

This was the sunset from my walk in the park. I loved how despite the brightness of the sun, it just turned the trees on the hill so dark and almost silhouette as the rays radiated out from the golden orb.

I am definately a sunset person as I think it gives the world this ethereal quality. I can almost see the fairies dancing in the light as it descends beyond the horizon, and hear the elves sing with the dragonflies. . .

A Very Proper Gander

Photo Copyright: Victoryachasegoestotherapy.blogspot.com

I decided to take a page from David's blog, as it were. Since I won't have much time to write, I figured I'd post some pictures now and then.

This was taken in the park on Saturday. Usually, at the particulary pond that I visit, there is a swan among the regular ducks and Canadian Geese. As of late, I've noticed this wonderful gander - it's not often I see an 'American' goose nibbling up the tossed corn and seed.

I really liked the mud, the water was very low that day. Even the ducks were sinking up to their 'knees,' that is, if ducks have knees.

What I like about this photo is not only the texture of the mud, but that it almost looks like the goose is gazing at his own reflection. Meanwhile, you can see the sun is setting through the length of the shadow and the almost golden light on the left side of the goose. In fact, in just a few moments after this shot the sun had already descended beyond the horizon.