July 30, 2008
Reading somebody else's family drama gave me enough anger and flashbacks to finally write my own father THE LETTER.
I asked him what the fuck was going through his head when he made the choices he made, and if he feels guilty over it now that it's too late to fix the damage that resulted from his actions.
Not sure if I feel better for having finally written THE LETTER, but I think it was the right thing.
I went out and wrote my sister a letter too, basically saying I can't forgive her or my brother for "forgetting" to call me when Mom was in the hospital for the last time, dying but still conscious enough to ask for me every time they visited. That incident wasn't all of it, obviously--the fact is that too much bad shit happened for too long with too little resolution, and now shit is beyond my ability to handle. Even just visiting drags me right back down to where I was 5 years ago. We fall into the old roles so quickly and just rip at each other nonstop, and that needs to end.
I'm so glad I hashed this stuff out with Mom before she died. I'm still pretty upset at some of the choices she made, but mortality has defined her failures as the flaws of a human who tried to be a good mother, and who lived and died unhappy and in great pain. She was a fuckup, but she was my Mom. I may not be quite ready to let go of the emotional baggage she left me, but I do forgive her.
Edit: Hahah, Blind Melon's "Tones of Home" just came on iTunes. How incredibly fitting.
"What do you think they would say
if I stood up and I walked away
Nobody here really understands me,
and so I'll wave goodbye I'm fine
and I'm fine..."
July 29, 2008
Watch this video! I laughed my motherfuckin' ass off.
Still broken scanner. Low on fundage to replace it due to shrink fees, but am working on the situation. Not feeling very bloggy, but things are definitely going better than they were. Will be getting diagnosed for ADD and the crippling anxiety issues within a month or so, and am currently waiting on pins and needles to see if medication helps.
July 24, 2008
We were almost back to regular traffic when I noticed there were a bunch of really nice vintage cars lined up outside the pizza parlor. People were looking at the cars, so we slowed down to watch. One guy was running his car, but dogs don't like loud roaring noises so we moved on.
The fucking driver waited until we were right behind his car and then gunned it as high and loud as it would go, in one long sustained ear-splitting rev. The engine noise was so loud and shrill it hurt my ears and made my skull vibrate. The Captain lost his shit and panicked. He jumped in front of the bike and I hit the brakes and knocked us over. He tried to drag the bike away, all the while to the sound of this guy's roaring engine ten feet away. A couple of people seemed about to come over or say something, but they went back to what they were doing as I got up and very carefully put the normal leash on the Captain to lead him away from the shrieking engine noise. It went on and on and on.
Then, as soon as we were out of the immediate area, the guy with the vintage car stopped revving his engine. What the fuck?
July 23, 2008
It was kind of weird seeing that bubblehead bleach-blonde who's on every news channel holding an oversized mic in person. She looked uncomfortable, maybe because it was bitch degrees out and everyone in the neighborhood was sitting on their front lawns like contented cows to watch her shuffle around gesturing at the techs.
In other news, I has new bike. This one is a me-bike, not a replacement for the Jesse-bike I was using until recently. It's fucking badass and glorious and has a basket for groceries. Seebs came up with some ingenious balsa shims to get the Springer to stay perfectly rigid on the slightly smaller seat-post, and after a few hours of tinkering, it fit perfectly.
End result: The Captain and I got to go on our first bike run in months. WOO!
He was out of shape but kept up fairly well. I had to take it easy myself, but we had a damned good time. Went to the dog park, then rode around town on our way back home. He's still drooling all over the floor and panting like he's dying, but that smile on his face is unmistakable.
The new bike is silver-blue and sized at 13.5 inches (apparently I am one of the Wee Folk). New helmet is blue and white. I will be wearing it religiously from now on. I also want to get a loud and blaring horn for just-in-case purposes.
Now I need to make enough to pay Jesse and Seebs back for the bike, so expect some new buttons to show up in the store fairly soon. I just knew I couldn't wait another few months to get back on the road. For one thing, the Captain was turning spherical and his under-exercised antics were driving Seebs and me both batshit.
In other news, pineapple-orange juice has made me its bitch. Send help plz.
July 22, 2008
Doing what he does best, I guess...
These delightful little fellas have started a day care on the wall lining a local sidewalk.
This right here? This is why I will never have children.
My hair did this after I dyed it yesterday. I struggle to understand the connotations.
Still dead scanner. Still no bike. Somebody said they had a lead on a new one but I think I deleted their post by accident when I was removing entries regarding Fight Club. Shit, I'm sorry about that. I am very interested! The dog and I both grow fleshier and walkies fail to satisfy.
Shrink tomorrow afternoon. Can afford it because people, they are amazing.
Sentences deteriorating. Lolcat ray suspected. I can has bedtime?
July 21, 2008
For the past three years I've been a huge fan of yours. I burn with envy of your worldbuilding skills. The kung fu, costume design and characters were fucking incredible throughout the show. And now you've brought it all home with one hell of a finale, and my high hopes were not disappointed at all.
I love your brains. Every single one of you. I will even forgive you for shoehorning some tedious romantic tension into a perfectly good story, because you seemed to have a lot of fun poking fun at the shipping wars that resulted.
I really needed a boost right now, and you guys rocked my world. Good show, guys. Good fucking show.
July 20, 2008
In that case, consider me totally AFK til I get caught up, and I suggest the rest of you who've been waiting do the same. In my personal experience, only Zim (closely followed by Harry Potter) have ever managed to beat out Avatar for sheer quantity of blabbery, psychotic hordes of fangirls ruining everything they touch.
This is a perfect time, too. Sunday = my day off. Also I need to sit still while my hair bleaches and then takes the dye. PRAISE THE LORD! MY SCALP HAS FINALLY HEALED ENOUGH TO RETOUCH THE COLORS!
July 18, 2008
I can't talk about Fight Club, but if I could, I'd tell you all about how close to screaming I am right now. Isn't it weird how humans can rev themselves up into a geniuine fight-or-flight panic over paperwork?
I've never wished so hard to be like everybody else. The whole affair seems tailored to press on all my psychological sore spots, and I honestly don't know what to do anymore. It just gets more and more complicated, and I was barely hanging on to begin with. There is no move I can make that's not going to drop this whole thing on my head. Logically I recognize that this means I should pick the least negative one and smash right through. But there's also this paralyzing worry that clangs and screeches and runs around in circles until I'm exhausted.
The deeper I get into the situation, the more I daydream about just running away and letting everything fall apart. It's easier to abdicate responsibility when the alternative is complete shutdown. I've done it before, and I remember how bloody awesome it felt.
I also remember how badly it fucked up my life. I'm not about to slide back down into that pit just as I'm starting to see daylight.
For the good news: I saw the shrink on Tuesday and I think I lucked out. She's clever, nice and completely non-threatening, and she has a German accent. She is the uber-shrink. I can't afford her on my own, so I have to get MinnCare like now.
Please GOD, let this help me get better.
July 16, 2008
Remember that post I made yesterday about that stupid book that's all over the news? The one that teaches little girls that plastic surgery is painful and scary but will make you pretty so it's worth it?
Turns out the Onion already did it, and did it better.
Real life imitating satire, right down to some uncannily similar turns of phrase.
July 15, 2008
There is now a children's book that explains that Mommy is kind of like a butterfly, because she starts out as a chubby bundle of inadequacy, goes into a cocoon of scary and risky surgical procedures, and comes out worthy of love. GIRL POWER!
Don't let TV and magazines get the jump on poisoning your daughter's confidence--buy her this book today and let her hear the bad news from someone she trusts.
July 14, 2008
It had evil red eyes and used them for glaring at me as I worked to get the hook out. In the end I had to clip off the barb in order to free the poor little bastard, and I had to put it back in the river because I didn't have a bucket and I wasn't ready to leave. Also I didn't have my little minimum size requirement list on hand because I suck.
Toward the end I noticed I was getting more bites by moving the bobber a certain way against the current, and sure enough I got another strike (which got loose as I reeled it in, ah well). Luka has learned a new skill!
I only had some Oscar Meyer hot dogs for bait, so I went and caught a bunch of tadpoles in a shallow pool on the riverside. I only had a plastic grocery bag for a net but it worked fine... until I lost my balance during a scooping and fell into the damn river.
The mud and squishing shoes didn't bother me all that much since the weather was nice, but my flailing around ripped the ass out of my worn-out jeans (on both sides) so that the pants legs ended up hanging down like leg-warmers. That was amusing and would have been even moreso had there been enough light for random passers-by to spot me.
I only used one tadpole for bait before I decided the hot dogs were a better choice after all. I'm not fond of impaling living creatures, especially ones with helpless flailing little nubfeets.
My exposed bits got eaten by mosquitoes despite liberal lip-numbing applications of Deep-Woods OFF, but no ticks. Thank you Jesus, no ticks.
On the way out, I took a shortcut over a chain-link fence. It must have been pretty comical looking. I haven't practiced such a basic outdoor skill since about 100 pounds ago, but my pride was at stake so I didn't dare give up on it.
I assure you I looked cool as I landed.
The garden pond is now full of the excess river pollywogs, which I brought home after deciding not to use them for bait. The plan is to let them grow up into itsy-bitsy thumbnail frogs and make frog roarings at night, and hopefully eat all the mosquitos til they are so fat they roll around in a flopping heap and belch out clouds of bug wings whenever they try to croak. Probably.
I am now in a pretty good place. Still dreading the shrink visit tomorrow, but if I can survive Fight Club, I can handle a lady reading my mind and finding out all my secrets and using them to turn me into a zombie with no emotions.
Update tonight, kiddies. I apologize for the flakery; I needed to get my mind right after recent shitstorms. Tomorrow I get to see a psych on orders from the Fleet. (They're installing a tracking device so I won't even have to call in my location during the next Scientology protest.)
I am nervous, but I endure. Glory Marcabia! Glory Xenu!
July 10, 2008
Your result for The Attachment Style Test...
42% Anxiety Over Abandonment and 77% Avoidance Of Intimacy
You prefer to be alone, without strong emotional ties. You know from experience that people usually leave anyway, and that it's probably best that you don't get too attached. You prefer plenty of alone time, and have learned to entertain yourself. Part of you suspects that this is more to protect others than yourself.
Fictional character with whom you might identify: V (V for Vendetta), Rogue (X Men)
July 9, 2008
Super-comfy socks are one of the three things I most enjoy getting as gifts (the other two being geological specimens and art supplies). THESE socks are blue and handmade by the faggy knitwit himself, and have a pattern of "LOLOLOLOLOLOL" that goes all around the cuffs. Clearly they are superior to other, less internet-savvy footwear.
Seebs gave me an audiobook from Carl Hiaasen that I haven't read yet, so I will not be bored while comicking this week. Audiobooks are good. Actually, I should put them in there as the fourth item in my favorite things ever list. Rocks, socks, art supplocks, and audiobocks. Yes.
It is a good birthday. I hereby accept the age of 28 with dignity (inasmuch as constant fart and butthole jokes can be dignified) and respect (haha, yeah right).
July 8, 2008
July 6, 2008
Sorry for the cryptic. I'm not supposed to talk about Fight Club. :(
The tiny banana republic of Lukadia is being attacked by the Nation of Meltdown. Current forces in place include financial worries, oh-god-what-am-I-doing-with-my-life-I'd-be-better-off-dead panic, anxiety over Fight Club, obsessive thoughts and tics, and of course your friend and mine, the crippling fear of social interaction.
Luckily for me, the invasion began at a very good time. I'm energetic, functional and relatively perceptive. Best of all, I'm not so depressed that I'd rather just hide in my room for the next five years (that has historically been my response to these episodes, and look where it's gotten me). There's still time for decisive preventative action.
And so, instead of hoping the nasty invaders just get bored and wander off and leave me alone, I'm going to call in an airstrike. Money woes and pride be damned; I've got options here that haven't been tried yet, and the volition to try them. Tomorrow I am going to make that fucking appointment and get some help.
July 5, 2008
(Spoilers obviously follow)
Movie 1 Alice: Oh! I'm naked and have amnesia. Wait, I'm a badass security agent who knows kung fu. Whee!
Movie 2 Alice: Oh! I'm naked and have amnesia. Wait, I've become an unbelievable martial artist and I have psi powers and my blood is magical and my also my brain is being controlled by science! WHEE!
Movie 3 Alice: Oh! I'm naked and cloned and finally over the amnesia! Wait, I'm the ultimate fighter of the entire universe and my psi powers are so strong I can make energy shields and manipulate fire and there are cameras in my eyes (which change color) because the government experimented on me and I'm on the run because they want to use me to destroy the world and my blood is so powerfully magical that it is both the cure for the zombie plague AND the source of an even worse strain of zombie plague and I can go around wearing hot pants in the desert without getting sand up my cooter and everyone wants to capture me but all ten thousand of my clones have formed an army and we are all going to use our powers to bring down a global conspiracy. WHEE!
The survival-horror genre has never been so terrifying.
PS - Resident Evil: Extinction uses that nasty-ass photoshopping technique that I hate so much. Throughout the film Mila Jovovich randomly went from sweaty and covered with pores to blurry and barbie-smooth, although the 'crawling' effect didn't seem to be present. A different retoucher, maybe?
I have begun to worry that this terrible, terrible abuse of technology might actually be catching on.
July 4, 2008
I remember it like it was yesterday.
I was on my roof, feeding the dog cookies and watching fireworks. Suddenly they were everywhere, hovering, hovering and feeding on the helpless. I fell off the roof when one of them came at me, and was lucky not to land on my head. I got up as quickly as I could, and ran. The screams as I fled through the streets were unbearable.
I hid in the river with a straw to breathe through until they finished the destruction and flew away, but the firefighters and fishermen of the town were not so fortunate. There were bloody helmets and hip waders everywhere. I found the dog the next morning, lapping up puddles of spilled ice cream from the sidewalk and looking completely unscathed. For some reason, they didn't seem to want to eat his brain.
So where were YOU when the flaming spider-skulls attacked?
July 1, 2008
May 29 (Bloomberg) -- Premier Exhibitions Inc., a leading provider of museum exhibitions around the world, settled a probe by New York Attorney General Andrew Cuomo over the origin of the cadavers in ``Bodies ... The Exhibition'' in New York City.
Premier will put $50,000 in escrow to provide ticket refunds to customers who say they wouldn't have attended the exhibition if they had known the questionable origins of the bodies and parts it displays, Cuomo said today in a statement.
The agreement ``brings an end to Premier's practice of using bodies of undocumented origins in their exhibitions,'' according to the statement. Premier must obtain documentation of the cause of death and origins of any new cadavers and body parts displayed in New York City, along with proof of consent. For any human remains already obtained, Premier must let people know it can't confirm they didn't belong to Chinese prisoners who may have been tortured and executed, as some advocacy groups have charged.
``Premier Exhibitions has profited from displaying the remains of individuals who may have been tortured and executed in China,'' Cuomo said in the statement. ``Despite repeated denials, we now know that Premier itself cannot demonstrate the circumstances that led to the death of the individuals.''
Katherine Morgenstern, a spokeswoman for Premier, said that Cuomo subpoenaed the Atlanta-based company in February seeking information on how the bodies in the exhibit were obtained.
Good times, good times.
Body Worlds is where it's at, anyway. Ten thousand clamoring pre-cadavers on a waiting list can't be wrong!