03 Nov 2010 Leave a Comment
I get really lazy with updating blogs sometimes. There has been a lot going on, though, so I’ll fall back on that excuse.
Everything has been going good. I can’t really say GREAT, but good. I’m trying to get through testing I have to do so I can move, and Roger has to do the same… but his testing isn’t going so smoothly. So I’m getting frustrated, a wee little bit. 2 weeks ago, he told me a month, last night, he said a month to two months…. *shrug*
It’ll all work out, I just might have to wait longer than I was told.
I think I might take a walk. I’ll finish this later.
10 Things I Love About You…
05 Sep 2010 Leave a Comment
There are obviously so many things I love about R. But I was just thinking about these in passing, and decided to write about them:
1. The way he’ll cuddle with me, an arm around me, my head resting on his chest. As he lays there with me, his nose is resting on my head and he just smells me. At first, this was strange to me, no one had ever done it. Now, I love it. I see that he loves me so much that something as simple as my smell is precious to him.
2. When I’m with him and we wake up in the morning he always cuddles with me before getting up, and kisses my forehead.
3. The ridiculously adorable texts he sends me.
4. The way no matter how horrible I’m feeling, depressed, or ill – the sound of his voice is the most comforting thing in the world. It tops any pain killer, or heating pad.
5. How he talks about our future. Our children, our home, our life – as one.
6. How he’ll call me at random times, just to tell me he misses me, because a ‘text doesn’t do it justice.’
7. The way he gets all of my references, and loves me all the more when I relate Doctor Who or Star Wars to something we’re talking about.
8. When he relates Doctor Who or Star Wars to something we’re talking about.
9. The way he looks when he’s sleeping.
10. The hilarious things he does in his sleep. (Once, I woke up to the sound of him running around in the pitch black, picking up pop cans. When I turned on the light he woke up, dropped the cans, and asked me where he was.)
You are everything I want, Because you are everything I’m not
05 Sep 2010 Leave a Comment
Cute texts of the night! I always love to save these, to look back on when I’m lonely. 
R: What’s the perfume you wear?
A: Lol… Fantasy, don’t make fun of me, I like it! Why?
R: I smelled it today, and thought of you.
And, I feel like showing off my boy (it’s something all girls have the right to now and then, right?!)
Cairo, 1920
04 Sep 2010 Leave a Comment
The sun is high above her, firmly push-pinned into place, as if it did’t mean to go anywhere any time soon – time would just have to bugger off, for now. The sand is hot under her bare, tawny legs, not far in the distance stands a great, rising pyramid. All ancient stone, falling away in places, begging to tell the story of it’s origins, and oh, it has so much to tell. Forever giving refuge to all the treasures of it’s youth. Like an elderly woman clinging to trinkets, broken and archaic, from her childhood, and old movie ticket stubs. Her hands are sifting through the golden, coruscating sands, pouring through her hands with a quiet, rolling hiss.
She’s here, in Egypt, the bare, robin’s egg blue sky a constant above her. Hills the color of lions rolling as far as can be seen. The air carries with it pure, palpable heat, the taste of it, like opening an Herculean oven, was heavy in her mouth. And then – she feels it. A solid object, warm, and smooth, an ancient, liquid glass. Her heart speaks, booms, in her chest as she pulls the timeworn piece from the earth, sand falling away like golden water. Cradled gently in her palms, as if the object itself, is just biding it’s time until it, too, falls away as dust.
It’s the color of seaglass, dark green and shouting blue all at once, with a deep crimson circle embedded. The shape of a griffin, with an amulet around it’s neck, the glaring red stone. Pushing off the mound of giving sand, she shoves the object in her back pocket, bolting instantly into a run to a tent, a tiny white flag on a nearby hill, a pleading, and unanswered, surrender to the relentless heat.
Bounding in the flapping entrance she exclaims, “I found it! I’ve got it!” Forcing herself to suck in the broiling air, holding the hot relic in her hand, held out on what felt an alien arm, supported by an even more otherworldly wrist.
“By God,” says a tall, snow-haired man, rising from his seat, “We’re going to call you the….”
And then – I woke up.
Who Says Comics Don’t Teach You Anything?!
02 Sep 2010 Leave a Comment
in Uncategorized Tags: comics, egypt, egyptian gods, history, isis, italy, tarot, thoth, trinity
I’m currently reading the Trinity series (which I highly recommend to anyone who misses Hawkgirl,) and, as some of you may know, we meet Tarot in the series. She’s basically a Hispanic tarot card reader, as the name implies, but her skills are pretty sweet. Just like Napoleon Dynamite.
In the comic she’s talking about tarot cards, and says that they are from ancient Egypt (and hey, it sounds believable enough), so I decided to look it up because Egyptian history is always fun. And here is what I really found:
- The first known of deck of tarot cards was made sometime between 1430 and 1450, in Milan, Fererra & Bologna, Italy.
- The decks were just added to with tionfi , or triumph, cards, for use in games. (What we commonly call ‘trump’ cards) The decks were never made specifically for divination of any kind, but I guess the Italian are pretty superstitious.
- Apparently, Casanova’s Russian mistress frequently used tarot cards for divination purposes. (Maybe the cards gave her a hint to how awesome whatever he must have been packing was.)
- In the 1400′s, cards were believed to possess some inherent evil (little squares of paper are so lethal), so they were commonly banned – except tarot cards that were more often than not exempted from laws pertaining to the use of cards.
- The use of tarot cards in a mystic way didn’t begin until the late 18th and 19th century, and was not widely accepted in occults or the like for some time.
Tarot (Or Maguerita, whatever you want to call her) mentions The Book of Thoth, which, interestingly enough, came up in my search!
- In 1781, a crackpot Swiss clergyman, by the name of Antoine Court de Gebelin, published Le Monde Primitif. He claimed that the symbols on the French versions of the the tarot deck were likenesses to Isis and Thoth, well known Egyptian Gods.
- Isis is the Goddess of Ancient Egyptian religious beliefs, the matron of nature and magic.
- Thoth is the God of wisdom, time, writing, magic and the moon. He was believed to be the tongue of Ra, how Ra’s will was translated into speech.
- de Gebelin also claimed that the word tarot came from the Egyptian words “tar” meaning “royal,” and “ro” meaning “road.” Therefore, leading to “royal road” ‘to wisdom.” He also wrote that tarot cards were from Ancient Egypt, and brought to Europe by gypsies.
Of course, once the Rosetta Stone came about, and hieroglyphs began being translated, none of Gebelin’s claims were backed up. But – the tale still remains a common urban legend, that apparently DC comics thought they could pass off on me. For shame, DC, for shame!
(On an interesting side note – The Book of Thoth that I mentioned has a fun story that goes something like this:)
The Book of Thoth is a volume containing lots of fun mystical powers and spells, and all the magical stuff anyone would love to have at their disposal. But, in true greedy Pharaoh form, Prince Neferkaptah had it buried with him in the City of the Dead.
It claimed that whoever read and possessed this book would know the “language of the animals,” be able to cast epic overpowered Oblivion-type spells (you know, like using Flame Tempest when you have the difficulty all the way down), AND be able to enchant the earth and sky. But, like anything super sweet, there’s an epic draw back – when you read the book and have your awesome Clark Kent overpowered skills, all your loved ones start dropping like flies until you return the book.
The book is said to be hidden in a golden box, which is contained in a silver box, inside a box of ivory and ebony, encased in a sycamore box, which is found in a bronze box, contained in an iron box. The Egyptians are really fucking serious about security. So, of course, you’re not going to find the keys to all these boxes on a nice janitorial ring. No! You’ll have to scour the entire Egyptian desert to find the keys that are either a.) Left with trusted friends, that will probably cut your head off in your sleep. B.) Hidden in hard to reach places that you have no hope of getting to unless your name is Lara Croft, or you have sweet Jedi skills. Or, finally, C.) Placed under the guard of mystical beasts that probably have three heads, enchantments, or curses. My tip of what to bring for these excursions: Invisibility cloak. Maybe an owl.
Those Dreaded, but Totally Anticipated, Little Three Words
31 Aug 2010 1 Comment
I’ve kept my dating life to a pretty small rolodex of suitors. I mean, I’ve gone out to dinner with quite a few young men, but most of the time it ended with one dinner – maybe two, if they were so lucky (College is expensive, sometimes you have to go on two dates with a guy because you’re just that hungry 
). But as for actually being with one person, and remaining that way for longer than a month, I’ve kept the list pretty short.
It always seems to me, when in these relationships, once I hit the 6 month mark, I’m waiting for the “I love you” conversation to hit. I’m dreading it, and avoiding it, but somewhere, in the deep, dark, very confused and rambling recesses of my mind, I’m anticipating it. I imagine those spots of my mind to look somewhat like the cave (which was actually a mouth, his own mouth at that!) that Arthur Dent finally meets Agrajag in. I also imagine Agrajag is definitely there. It’s the only thing that describes the little moments of psychosis about something so small as three words. Or… maybe it’s more like a Sarlacc pit… we’ll never know.
But nonetheless, other than actually getting in the relationship, and possibly getting engaged, and all the bells and whistles associated with that – it’s one of the biggest milestones that two people experience together. And it is not to be taken lightly.
My boyfriend, R, had never said it to anyone. He even told me he was “emotionally retarded” and “incapable of love.” So, when he said those three little words (on the 21 of August, because I’m OCD about dates), I was a wee bit shocked. Mainly because, before, he was acting as if he was a creature bred just for comic book reading, and video game playing, (ultra-efficient comic book reading and video game playing of course) and love was not a part of his algorithm.
But I guess the right girl can rewrite even the biggest Star Trek’s fan algorithm any day.
Hola Amigo
31 Aug 2010 2 Comments
I’ve been a long time blogger, but usually at xanga (which I’ve kept with for about 7 years, maybe a little more) so I’ll just start with a little get to know me, in case you’re a random blogger.
My name is Ashley. Like I said, been a long time blogger, I like talking to no one.
- I read a ton, and I watch more Doctor Who than is probably healthy.
- I live in state that looks a lot like a mitten (which always leads to people asking me where I’m from on this mitten, and wanting me to use my hand as an example.)
- I’m an Air Force girlfriend, we’ve known one another since high school, and I’m very happy. (Major points – he’s just as nerdy as I am.)
- I like to knit awesome things, like Tauntauns.
- My little sister is my best friend. With R (my boyfriend, this is how I’ll refer to him from now on) being a very close second.
- I’m in health care, and it’s extremely rewarding.
I’m lost from there. Hopefully I’ll have a meaningful post sometime in the future.
Starting a Blog Always Feels Weird…
31 Aug 2010 Leave a Comment
Because I don’t know what to start with, and I never do with a squeaky clean new blog… I will start with a zombie dream I had a few weeks ago.
“I had the most intense dream last (which was probably due to the ridiculous amount of time that I spent playing Half Life), in which I was a seriously badass zombie-killer. I had this little town that I was pretty much alone in (anyone who’s played the games is probably thinking “We Don’t Go to Ravenholm” right now) but, in the cliche way that it always happens, a group of people needs my help. One’s a pretty young boy, and the others… I know there were others, but I have no distinction of facial features, or sex.
The cities are still like our cities, modernized, with towering skyscrapers, that are still breathtaking and not decrepit, so I have to assume my zombie invasion hadn’t been going on too long. So, me and my arsenal and companions head into the city in some type of SUV. There are still people, still things going on (probably falsely thinking that the other cities were successful in their quarantines) and we end up at some type of fancy outdoor party. Women clad in elegant, satin gowns, with white elbow-length gloves, men in tuxedos, and the ridiculous violin and oboe bands.
The group of people I’m with keep telling me this city, which was very Vegas-like, is safe (but my subconscious knows it’s seen too many zombie movies, and read I Am Legend one too many times). I, cradling my shotgun, look to a corner of elderly people, who are rapidly changing into zombies. I grabbed my crew, and booked it, while trying to kill as many of the elderly zombies as I could (head-shots, of course). It led to the inside of a building, and I was in a bathroom, using the stall doors as head-crushing weapons. The zombies also had weird bone-type growths that sprouted up all over their bodies, and one of the zombies had them on either side of their mouth, which I used to rip their head in two.
And then… I woke up.”
What a bummer, right?! I should write a book about this stuff.
Other than that – I can’t sleep. I’m so used to my boyfriend reading to me, and he passed out after work and couldn’t talk tonight – so I’m all thrown off with sleeping.
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