A near miss

I almost crashed the Thunderbird. My legs went numb while I was driving home yesterday, and my already screwy depth perception got about 10 times worse, and I almost cracked the car up. Yes, obviously, I'm fine. I wasn't then, and by the time I actually got it parked safely into the stall, and got myself into the house, I just wanted to sit quietly and have a nice little emotional breakdown. Which is why none of you got phone calls.
And as I don't really want to be yelled at, or lectured (and I was *FINE* when I left the house, or I wouldn't have LEFT the house), and the medications that was causing the problem has now been abruptly stopped, such things should no longer be an issue.

Although my skin looks atrocious. I gather about 95% of people can safely take Plaquenil, without side effects. It would appear that I'm not one of those 95%. So what else is new? Rest assured that I'm not in any big hurry to be 'treated' for my RA just now in any form, since all that being 'treated' for it has done is completely thrash my skin, make me violently ill, and cause me to nearly wreck my car. Oh, and make my already pain-filled joint pain *worse* instead of better. Gee, thanks. Let me try "treating" it so it can "improve" my life a little more. Not in any rush to do that.

I've actually been more and more and more exhausted physically recently. And not just tired, but actually weak. Just trying to get the pitcher of water out of the refrigerator and pouring a glass sometimes is enough to make me want to take a nap, and that bothers me. I'm not certain what's changed, that's causing me to be getting so much weaker physically.

I forced myself today, to use the trampoline, and it took a while before I finally started to get a bit of energy. And I at least feel awake instead of wanting to go and crawl into bed to take yet another nap. I'm still physically tired, but my mind is less foggy than it's been in a while. So I figure I'll force myself into the daily exercise and see if it improves. *tips a hat in Sissy's direction for the suggestion*

There has been a lot of bad going around lately. People's lives are coming apart at the seams, or so it would appear. People whose lives I'm not actively involved in, but that I used to know. I still notice what goes on around me, and I still acknowledge when things suck. I don't wish harm on anyone, even from a distance.

A lot of people have passed on recently, and there's been a lot of pain and a lot of loss. It strikes me as peculiar that in the midst of all of that loss, instead of everyone clinging to each other, sometimes we push each other away. It's almost as though when we hurt the most, that's the time that we choose to inflict more. To...prove something? To make certain that nobody asks anything extra from us? I don't know.

I know that when I'm feeling uncertain and frightened and angry, I strike out at the people I want and love most. Counter-productive, I know. Utterly stupid. But I figure nobody can hurt me more than I can hurt myself, and if I leave first, no one can leave me. I won't give anyone the opportunity. Yay for therapy, which has taught me quite a lot over the years. I don't always do the stupid thing anymore, but I did that a lot, for a very long time.

I'm probably rambling, so everyone can take whatever I might have to say with a grain of salt, or they can find wisdom where they may.

I'm not particularly full of wisdom. No one ever listens to my advice. They ask for it, but no one actually heeds it. And then they come back later, and want to know why something went horribly wrong, and ask what they could have done to prevent such catastrophe? Honestly, I've sort of gotten to the point of just shrugging and patting people on the head and letting them say/think/do anything they like, because I tend to believe no one is really listening to whatever is coming out of my mouth anyway. They're mostly talking to me so they can hear themselves speak, and the occasionally word that filters through that I say confuses them.

I suspect we're both better off that way. Perhaps I'll test the theory sometime, and say what I'm truly thinking, and see if anyone actually notices the difference between my editing politically correct statements, the ones I'm using these days, and my actual thoughts, and see if they notice that I've changed what I'm saying most of the time. That might be fun. Of course, if someone actually is listening, I suppose people might stop speaking to me...then again, that being the case, if they get that mad, oh, hell with it. I think I'm getting a headache.

I'm going to go make a pot of tea, and start working on my Psychology assignment. Sadly, that will probably less confusing than my current line of reasoning. I'd rather debate Psych theory.

...testing, testing...is this thing even on?

Yeah, it's on. I haven't fallen into a chasm, and gotten trapped down at the bottom, although I'm sure it appears that way sometimes to those of you who I never talk to anymore. And that's an awful lot of people. I'm working on that, sorry about the lack of communication, I've been a combination of busy and exhausted. Today is what, Wednesday? Yes, it must be, I just got home, after spending the entire day either in doctor's offices, getting lab work done, or picking up new prescriptions from the new doctors.

I admit it, I'm...hopeful? The new guy seems incredibly competent, in addition to being very nice, and very willing to explain things to me, so that I grasp what it is that he's doing whatever he's doing. Downside? Mountains of lab work, and what I can already tell is probably going to be the round-robin game of MRI's in the near future. But as long as it's for a good cause, I'll deal with it.

Competency in the medical field goes a long way with me, and this gentleman certainly seems to know his shit. It's been quite a while since I sat down and had a conversation with a medical professional who I didn't need to educate on my various problems, and instead, who already knew what was wrong with me, and had suggestions on how to fix them. I'm feeling rather upbeat as a result.

But they took a lot of blood today, and I was incredibly stupid, and didn't think to eat before I left the house, nor did I think to take food with me, so I was woozy as hell after that blood draw, and now I feel kind of, no, incredibly run down. And I'm not sure how I'm going to react to the new stuff, but I'll give it a chance, because anything is better than the way I've been going on.

In other events, I'm looking forward to the paper I'll be researching for my crim class this week, it sounded interesting when I saw the assignment. I'll probably put it together either tomorrow, or Friday afternoon/evening, and tweak it Saturday before I turn it on Sunday. The child development/psychology assignment is also due this weekend, and I plan to put that together tomorrow, after I take C.A. to her appointment. She's nervous, and I want to be there for her.

If J's free Friday, there will be Angel, and if not, I'll do the fine tuning on the crim assignment. That's how that works. Either way, there won't be homework tonight, because I have other plans for myself tonight. I'm already too run down to try and focus for school, and I require cuddles and attention and love. And a shower.

I always want a freaking shower after the vampires at the lab take all my blood away. Not sure why, but I always feel all yucky and dirty, and want a shower. Weird. And I'm freezing cold, and want nothing more than to curl up under a blanket with someone who has a lot of body heat that I can steal. I suspect dinner will be something very fancy, like hot soup, and sandwiches. Right now, Ezz is laying on my lap, trying to keep me warm. He's such a good boy.

Maybe he'll come back to my lap after I get out of the shower. Mmm...maybe I'll make hot chocolate? That suddenly sounds incredibly good. Nummy hot chocolate and a warm kitteh and my warm blanket and a book, or maybe a movie. Hmm. I have earplugs in, to escape the evil that is the gardeners, since I have a headache, and I don't want to hear them.

So that's what I did today, I went and got jabbed with needles, made plans to do homework, and cuddled my kitteh. In a little while, my source of warmth and loves will get back home, and I will snuggle with him, so I should go and shower, so that I can cuddle on him and be all clean and not feel icky.

And away I go...g'night internets.

--a noteworthy aside--

Don't follow me to try and be like me, because there's not really a reason. Don't base your self-worth on what I'm doing. What I do, or don't, or choose to do shouldn't have any impact on anyone's life but my own. I'm sorry when my choices hurt someone else, I truly am, but I've long since stopped doing anything based on whether or not it's going to impact anyone else's life, and other people should do the same.

Whether I write something, update something, edit something, make things visible or not has nothing to do with anything that's visible to the general population of the internet. It's just not as a general rule. There are some days that I change out something, just because I decided that I wanted to match the background of my text editor to my new hair color, or what color shoes I have on. It's often just as random as that, and as thoughtless.

I know that, frequently, I get calls and emails because people think that what I'm writing is in direct relation to something having to do with them. Or that they've been locked out of something, or that I'm upset with someone. The truth is, I probably heard something on the news, read it on a blog, or saw something in a cloud that made me think a weird thought, and it ended up online, or made me want to switch out a setting, and there's no reason to think it had anything to do with anyone.

Imitation is not the most sincere form of flattery. It's more of a lack of being able to think of anything original for yourself. *sigh* I should know, I'm usually the person who thinks up something first, and then looks around and realizes a lot of people are now imitating me, and wanting to be like me, and I then stop doing something I was enjoying, because I don't *like* sycophants, and mindless drones who want to orbit around me trying to be like me. I'm sure other people enjoy having an entourage, but I'm not one of them. I don't *want* the spotlight, I don't *want* to be the center of attention. I never did, it just sort of was a side effect of what I'm told is an overwhelming personality.

I used to claim that I just don't see it, the effect I have on people, that I'm oblivious to it. But the truth is that I'm aware now, that people are drawn to me. But I'm not asking for that, and I don't crave it. I'm aware that it's there, but I'm not going seeking the attention. A lot of people hate me for it. Mostly women, the ones who want the spotlight, and the attention and who want to have those admirers. I've learned finally to accept and deal with that.

I was told recently that there can only be one "queen" in a group of people, and that's true. But I have no desire to be that "queen". I'm just here, and if people want to attempt to follow my lead, I can't prevent that. But I'm very tired of being imitated, and extremely exhausted by the amount of vitriol spewed in my direction by the people who want that attention, and the followers who I guess decided they liked me, or whatever it is that I'm doing. The people who can't share a spotlight, and as a result spend their time bashing me, and trying to tear me down to make themselves look better. In the long run, it doesn't do any real damage to me, because I've learned that I'm a good enough person that the lies jealous people spread tend to twist in on themselves, and people still like me. But in the short term? It's a pain in my ass.

I'm not sure why it is that people want to base their self-esteem on how many people like them anyhow, but I more or less accept that there are people like that. I'm not out to collect friends, and hold a popularity contest. I simply don't care enough to bother. I have my circle, and my circle is secure. I like the people I like, and they're good enough judges of character that they don't really need to have a popularity contest either. But while trying to join in 'regular' groups, and hanging out at random events, it becomes tedious. Which is why I rarely bother. It feels like high school, and ridiculous. At my age, who needs the aggravation?

--sun rise, sun set--

Time passes, even when no one is paying any attention. It just keeps rolling right on by. It's almost September, will be in a couple more days. This is the third week of school for me, took and bombed a test, although I aced a couple of others, so it's balancing out. Been writing papers, and more papers, and yet more papers. Accidentally took a course that's a short class, without realizing it, which explains why I feel like I'm drowning in assignments of writing as it turns out.

The classwork is, for the most part, interesting when it's not being so overwhelming that I kind of want to scream. And that's okay too. I'm used to that. It looks like I'm finally going to get some help in here, to take the pressure off with a lot of other things around the house, so I'm not stressed out about so many other things, and that will help. With my attention divided so many ways, and constantly worrying about things that I shouldn't need to worry about, so I can actually focus on my studying, that will smooth out, at least inside of my head with regard to my education.

Next semester, I'll start studying sign language in depth. By the time I'm finished, I *should* end up completely fluent in it, and with the ability to translate for others, in addition to being able to use it for my personal use. And that makes me happy. I'm sort of, at the back of my mind, wondering if it might be worthwhile to teach it. That keeps coming and going as a passing thought though.

In my personal life, as much of it as I'm willing to actually discuss on the intarwebs? Things are...yeah,they're actually going so well it's truly disgusting. There are some days that I'm half-tempted to float little balloons, and hang streamers, and gloat a little. Granted, it's not always sunny, because, well, nothing's perfect, and that would be ridiculous to hope for. But overall? I took a huge risk two months ago, and it paid off, in spades. And I'm happy. I wasn't sure I would be, and I'm still insecure sometimes, but those insecurities are my own, and I'm well-loved and I know it. And when I don't know it? All I need to do now is say that to get the reassurances that I need. Well, at least I do when I'm not being stubborn about not saying anything. And no one can do anything about my stubborn streak. And fairly regularly, I don't even need to say anything to get reassured. It's kind of nice.

Maybe we'll graduate from college like normal people, and ride off on horseback into the sunset, and live happily ever after, you know? And do the things that happy people do, and be happy. My instinct tells me that it's in our best interest to do it far, far from where we currently live, but hey, that might just be because I don't like the town I live in. *shrug*

So, yeah, that would be what's going on in my life. Things are going on, the way things do, and my grades are good, and my bills are getting paid, well, some of them at any rate. And I'm in a secure, committed relationship with someone I love, and I more often than not don't want to kill him, or me, and my cat is happy and healthy, and I should be getting my car fixed eventually. The world continues to turn, and the sun rises and sets.

just another brick in the wall

It's strange to me to look at something, and recognize it for what it is. I've been reading a story recently, and it's a good one, the writing is decent, the storyline is interesting and all. But it's still depressing to read. Because I can recognize it for what it is, and always have been able to. Anyone who is familiar with the author would recognize it for what it is. I suppose that might actually be what makes a good author, the ability to take the dreams you want most, and put them down on paper. Something that could be publishable to the masses. Unless of course that you're living in some place where that fiction is real. That might actually be dangerous. Not sure. Either way, it's an interesting story.

At any rate. School's back in session, and I'm swamped again. I think I might have taken a little too much onto my plate, although that might smooth out a bit once I get into a routine. I so desperately hate the 'introduce yourself and come up with banal things to say to the other students for the first week of class along with writing whatever the actual assignments are' bullshit.

I need to go and get a fix-it ticket signed off at DMV, and run down to the courthouse to pay it, and then that'll be done. There are a few other errands I'm supposed to be doing right now, but what I'm doing is writing this, because I needed to take a slight break from the normal patter that's been my life for the last week and a half, and decompress. I also need to check my mail.

Oh...I'm not sure how many students read my blog, but for those who do, if you're still buying textbooks in the traditional fashion, I'm using a new service, renting them for the semester...it saved me several hundred dollars this semester by doing it this way. Check it out: www.chegg.com is a place that both rents out the textbooks, which you can buy if you decide you like or want to keep them, and they plant trees for using the service. It's pretty neat. And, bonus, a crapload of money saved. And since I'm spending a shitload of money on books, as anyone who's in college can attest on books, it's a good thing to check out. My public service announcement for the day or something.

I'm kind of feeling run ragged, which is why this is so snarky. I got a new printer, as Phillip gave me one, which was massively helpful, so I didn't end up needing to shell out a couple hundred dollars, and it does all the bells and whistles things that I needed a printer to do. It's pretty nice. I have my computer working in tandem with my television so I can watch things streaming from it, since Danny set me up to do that, and I've been rather enjoying that when I have spare time. I've made a few new friends, and have actually *gasp* gone out to a couple of parties and barbecues over the last month or so. But really though, for the people who have been sending comments asking if I'm doing alright, yes, I am.

I've been tired, and I've been offline because I've been busy, but I'm doing okay. I took up a couple of new hobbies, I've been busy with school and my boyfriend, and things are doing alright. I've been mostly happy, with the occasional bouts of depression because my medications have been being tinkered with, and I've had to cope with the side effects that come with that. Other than that, all is well. But I appreciate the concern.

There are a few people that I miss from my life that aren't here. And there are some people who are gone now that I'm kind of glad are gone, because my life is easier without them in it. All in all? Things are just kind of moving along, the way things do. I hope everyone out there in the internet world is doing well too. I hope they have the things they need, and are happy and healthy.

Laterz, internets.

Magic: The Gathering - Cruxshadows/Winterborn

Almost five years after I bought 3000 cards, I'm finally learning to play Magic: The Gathering. Only took me a little while, right? I'm told that the style I'm learning to play is called, um, damnit, I don't actually remember what it was called now. But it's where I build a custom deck, and attempt to slaughter other people for fun. It's entertaining. Not that I have any idea what I'm doing, but it's still fun. And no, I'm not planning on hanging out and trying to beat people at tournaments, this is for personal entertainment, and as a hobby.

So yes, I guess this is another thing to chalk up to on the 'geek' meter, that I've acquired a taste for 15 years after everybody else. Nothing new there, right? *laughs quietly to myself*

Oh, and if anyone noticed the new song playing on my playlist, it's something I actually read a bit from in a novel I was reading from, called "Winterborn" by The Cruxshadows, and really liked it, and so I went to go hear the entire song, liked that too, as a result, it's getting playtime here, to irritate and or entice anyone who might like it.

Behold, the invisible person

It's funny, and it probably makes me a somewhat inattentive person that I've been both busy and sick recently, and didn't notice the now supposedly-invisible person who vanished from my life. Not just my life though. Once I noticed the absence, and truth be told, I have no idea how long she'd been missing before I saw the removal from my Facebook and Myspace, and then actually actively went to check for blogs and the twitter site to see what I might come up with.

Turns out that not only did I get deleted, so did everyone associated with me. Seems a little petty and childish, since I'm not even certain what it was that I did, and I know for damned sure nobody else did anything to warrant the removal, with the exception of >gasp< being my friend. The horror. Blasphemy. I know, right? Obviously, I missed something, somewhere.

So, I did a little poking around, since, well, I have that annoying skillset to be able to do such things. The trouble with dropping off into the ether, in an online world, is that it's actually not all that simple. Well, that's untrue.

It's very easy to drop into the ether, and have a completely hidden invisible place to voice your thoughts, and to lock down your profiles and your privacy. But you can't really do that and still keep all your things linked to your own personal things, in any way. People who like to have sycophants and be fussed over rarely manage to drop off the radar.

I freely admit that I have multiple accounts, that I use for multiple purposes. Very few of them are linked to each other, in any capacity. There would be no point. On the one account I have that has nothing that relates in any way to my Controversy account, I use it, I keep it, and I run it, with absolutely nothing that would refer to myself in any form. Which is why I feel free to write there, with no one realizing that it's me. My other blog accounts? I know there are a handful of people who know I write on those periodically. I can't necessarily finger which people who read them, but I know they do, and that's enough that more often than not, I write bullshit on those pages, just so I can screw with their heads occasionally. If no one will admit to reading what's being written, then I feel free to concoct the most amazing things on those pages. Fiction, at its best. Sometimes, people deserve what they get for not telling the truth when asked.

Where was I going with this? Oh, yes. Invisible people, and finding it odd to have been removed from someone's life with no provocation, without so much as a phone call, and then being somewhat amused to watch multiple blogs go online, while the main one goes down, in the hope of...what, exactly? Hiding from the world? From specific people? Trust that if I can see the secondary ones, gods know that chances are everyone else can too, as my ninja skills aren't all that tech savvy. Decent but not spectacular.

Whatever happened to simply writing in a paper journal? Or keeping .doc files or .txt files on your personal PC if you wanted to keep a journal? Why does everything need to be blogged? Nobody can use things against you if you just keep a damned diary. You still get to write out your feelings.

I wonder, sometimes, if people who read this truly believe that I write everything that goes through my mind. If I post everything up here for public consumption. The answer to that, my readers? It's no, I don't. I have private thoughts, and those thoughts remain mine, and private. What goes here, goes here by choice. I know better than to give fodder to the masses, to be used against me just because I'm not smart enough to keep some thoughts to myself. That'd be insane. I like getting feedback from a lot of my thoughts. Running some ideas out through the public domain, and seeing what some people think of it. But when it matters, personally, to me? I keep my own counsel. I'm not going to post up something that can do me injury, and leave myself open to attack. That would be foolish. The world doesn't need to know some things.

And if I truly, honestly just need to vent out some things, in a forum where I need feedback but can't afford to have people who personally know me getting wind of it? There are places to post that, anonymously, on the 'net. But I certainly wouldn't do that on my mainstream blog. People know me here, and I live in a small town, where people would talk about me all over.

I just don't get it. No one is invisible. However much they might want to be, no one is invisible. Life doesn't work that way. And if you're going to put your private life online to the world, you can expect repercussions, and people to talk. That's how things work. Social networking has descended onto society, and that's the way things work in today's world. It's like a convoluted game of yesteryear's "telephone game". Come to think of it, I never much liked that either. I must be getting old.

But with advances in technology comes the way things progress, and the society we live in, and that includes the internet, and sites like Facebook and Myspace and the way people interact and behave. Being invisible and dropping out of sight is virtually impossible, unless you know how to do it, or are completely prepared to do it in a full-scale and isolated manner. And most people aren't.

Posting that you're going to go into hiding, is sort of oxymoronic at best. And at all it does, is scream that you're putting in a huge bid for attention. Well, it got attention. But I doubt highly that it was the type you were looking for.

Attention: Reality Ahead!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Maybe I've figured it out, and you're all just batshit insane. Or perhaps I am. Not entirely certain which.

So today's little lesson, or maybe it wasn't just today, it's kind of the culmination of the last little while, is that everyone hates reality. But they each seem to hate reality, their own personal flavor of it, and they like it flavored with their own personal quirks. They take their insane little bubble-psychosis in their own ways.

And no one wants to deal with reality, not really. They pretend that they're facing it, and claim that they're acting accordingly. But it's a lie. And that lie causes them to be assholes. On both small and huge scales.

While dealing with reality, you have to deal with people and things that you don't necessarily like and enjoy. And to deal with those things, you have to make what are called accommodations. You accept that things are not always going to please your personal tastes, and you modify your behavior accordingly. You act like a human being, and you sit quietly in the boring waiting room, through the boring movie that you wouldn't necessarily enjoy, you put up with the play that makes someone else happy, because in the real world, someone else has made that same accommodation to make you happy at one point or another. You got your turn, now they get their turn, and both parties have reached being happy. Maybe not at exactly the same time, but it still happened.

Yes, each was bored for >x< amount of time, while the opposite person was delighted because they got theirs. That's sort of how it works. I'm sure that while you were washing the dishes, you probably weren't ecstatic. But in the end, the kitchen got cleaned, which would mean for a nice, neat room, which would make the reality of living there all that much more pleasant.

The lie factor here? Is that everyone says they live in the real world, and they don't. Because if they did, they'd deal. To make other people happy. To have the clean house. To have the happy partner, even if they were bored. Even if it meant doing some of it themselves, instead of bitching to have it done for them.

But nobody wants to step out of that extremely self-centered zone, where life revolves around their own happy place, wherever that happens to be. Because people are jerks. It doesn't matter that someone else is unhappy for a little while, as long as you're not bored, even for a couple of hours. As long as you don't have to be frustrated, or aggravated, or anything else. As long as you don't have to be uncomfortable, or leave the bubble-zone, because it's all about you. And they don't see it. They've lived in their own head for so long, that they genuinely never look around and see from any perspective but their own, so that fake reality has become real, and no amount of reasoning will sway them.

Or I suppose that might not be it. It might be genuine unconcern, because they want it all their way, all the time, and just don't care that being bored for a few hours might be worth it. That it makes them like the rest of the human race, to step back down with the rest of us, to make someone else happy, for no other reason than that. It doesn't have to be all your own way, all the time. To take note of what others do and give for you, and return the same courtesy, however small. To see from someone else's perspective.

No one is correct about everything, all the time. And no one shares the same world view about everything. But insulating yourself and being unwilling to do, and see, and experience anything at all that makes you uncomfortable, or bored, or that you find uninteresting, or that you dislike? You have at the same time shown to someone else that you devalue their opinion and their interests and their views. By being unwilling to see things from their perspective you have shown yourself to be removed from reality, or just uncaring about anything but what you like, with no regard for anything they like.

Today's topic: narcissism

I was reading something today, and it caused me to stop and contemplate narcissism, as it relates to narcissistic personality disorders and whether or not some people truly think that the world revolves around them, and their presence.

It sort of made me sad, in a way. I *know* that a few people would genuinely notice if I did or didn't show up at a function, and I know that my friends cheer when I walk into a room, but it's in a good-natured joking sort of way, not in a "wow, the world would be a sadder, lonely sort of place if you weren't here tonight" kind of way. And there are some people who truly seem to think that an event is made or broken by their mere presence. I cannot fathom that.

I have a good healthy self-esteem these days. I'm pretty grounded in the fact that people care about me, and that I'm well-liked. I'm confident and self-assured most of the time. But the idea that I'm the center of everything? Just baffles me. I'm not particularly jealous of anybody, and if other people are envious of what I have or who I am? Well, um, they're kind of nuts. And I mean that in the kindest possible way. Trust me, you don't want to live my life.

As for being "special"...certainly, I'm "special". I'm the kind of special that comes from having had a terminal disease. Did I mention that under "you don't want to live my life"? Cause you don't. I don't want to be special. Don't want to play with special people. I don't *mind* special people, but I don't exactly go out of my way to search out elitists, because I just don't give a damn. I like most people, who are nice to me, until they give me a reason to not like them.

I don't want to be admired, I don't want to be fawned over, I don't particularly want anything out of the ordinary. Now that I think about it, I'm awfully boring. I suppose I like intelligent people, interesting people. But I don't "require" genuises or anything. Just...people being people.

Where was I? Oh, right. The idea of someone thinking that if they didn't show up somewhere, that that gathering would just not be worth actually being held, because they weren't there. *insert eyeroll here*

Obviously, I'd make a very bad narcissist. I'd rather expect that nobody would really note my absence beyond a passing "Hmm, Controversy didn't make it", and everyone would move on, if that. Even if they were my friends, because I don't expect any one person should matter that much, unless it's just a two or three person event. At which point, that's not a gathering/event, that's 'getting together for >x<' and that's a different thing, and, okay, I have something else to be doing here in a few minutes, so I'm going to post on that as a different topic later.

So I'll leave you all contemplating whether or not any of you are narcissistic personality disorders, and hope that you're not, and if you are, perhaps you should work on that, and be more personable people, because who wants to hog spotlights and be self-centered? It's very unpleasant!

Pursuit of happyness

It's taken me a while, to put this blog up, because I had things I needed to do, and people who I needed to take care of, before I could. Because those people are important enough to me, to make damn certain that they were not wounded, when I put this here. Because I've been happy for a few months, and I'm happy now, and the reasons are not the same. But both are important to me. And both will continue to be important to me. I will not give up either one, although they will be completely separate in their contexts or relationships. As I continue to be who I am, and my loyalty as always will remain.

What do you do, when something that you wanted desperately, with every fiber of your being, suddenly appears in front of you, and offers you the words that you wanted to hear? That you are cherished, and you are loved, and that everything can be alright again, and there's a chance at the happiness you thought you lost, and that a mistake had been made? No secrets, no hiding, no lies. Just a chance to rectify a mistake, and a chance to be happy now. What do you do then? What do you do when an apology you thought you'd never hear is given, and everything you want is right there for the taking?

Oh, I loved him. With everything I had, with everything I was, I loved him. I didn't doubt it, I didn't question it, I gave him everything and would have given up anything if it made him happy. I took care of him, and I got broken for my efforts. And I haven't forgotten any of those things. And it took me a very long time, and a lot of work, and a lot of soul searching, and a long time, to get to where I am now. And where I am? It's a good place to be. And over the course of that time, and the very slow process of healing, I stopped being in love with him. I still care about him, still wanted to know that he was alright. But very slowly, I stopped being in love with him. And I moved on.

And it hurt. It cost me, a lot, to let that dream go. But let it go, I did. My dreams changed, and the person I became changed as well, into a much stronger, and more self-reliant person. Someone who had the ability to look at the dreams I had once, and to see what was flawed. And what I was doing to myself, and what I had allowed myself to become.

And when I look, now, at him, what I see isn't the same either. And that overwhelming and crushing desire to give him anything, to be anything if he can just want me? That isn't there anymore. I still care about him. I realized at some point, that I'm always going to care, a part of me will always love him. But there's an equality now. I know that I deserve something more than to be hidden in the shadows, out of the light. And what he offered, was more than what it used to be.

And I'm happy now, standing within his arms, and I'm not hidden in the dark, which is where I always was. There's no shame now, with him. And that was there before as well. There was always someone else that he was searching for, someone else he wanted to hold above me. I was someone to pass the time for him, until the person he wanted more could be available. That shames me.

I'm not ashamed anymore. I am the woman he wants now, because I wouldn't have settled for anything less than that. He makes me happy, and finally, when he looks at me, he *does* look at me. And he's happy with me. And he'd finally realized the mistake that he made, and gave me the words, words I needed to hear, to heal a very large wound that he caused, when he left. That damage is going to be there, for a while. But it helped. It continues to help.

It isn't going to be an immediate fix. But each day that passes, heals a little more. And I missed him, so much, that it was like a hole was missing from inside of me. And having him back feels like I'm complete. It always did.

I can live without him, I proved that, both to myself, and him, when he left. I can do it again, if I have to. But I'd rather not. I'd rather stand at his side, and be happy. I waited, a long time, for that. I'm sorry, that it angers others, but I'll make my own choices, as I always have. I'm sorry it hurts so many people that he cares about as well. But that was his choice too, when he came after me.

We deserve to be happy, everyone does. We're not harming anyone else. If you can't be happy for us? Please, just leave us alone.

June 17th, 2009

Been a while since I actually sat down and wrote here. Couple of weeks, which is strange for me. I know, I know. And it isn't as though (except for the last couple of days) I've been hiding in a corner, all covered in depression, too upset to write anything. I've actually been really busy, and simply haven't stopped to update anyone on what's been going on in my world.

I didn't get the job that I wanted, I guess I'll start there. And I've been kind of upset about it. And I had to go in for some testing recently, and I'm still waiting on the results of the biopsies, but the things that are pending, none of them look good. The initial bit that they took off, those were cancer, and I already know that. I'm having a lot of trouble coping, and keeping up my day-to-day ability to deal.

And Monkey was in town, for the last week and a half, and that was wonderful. Seeing her, and spending the time with her, it was great. And then I had to take her home, and it hurt, letting her go hurt. That was two days ago, and I've done pretty much nothing since I got back home but sit curled up on the corner of the couch, and watch silly television shows, and tried to block everything out. Not the most mature response in the world, but it was the best I could do.

Which brings us to today, where I'm finally somewhat managing to function like a regular person, and trying to get myself back together. I have a new application to fill out, for a scholarship for school, that landed in my inbox, I want to say yesterday. I had to call Danny to have it printed out, because apparently my printer has completely died, and refuses to resurrect, no matter what I do to it. If anyone has any spares lying around, please send one my way. All it needs to do is print black & white, I don't do anything fancy these days with it. I'll buy one eventually, but at the moment, I'm still working on that whole "paying my rent" thing, so running out to purchase a printer isn't exactly at the top of the to-do list.

I helped a friend go and get a car last week, and he's very pleased, which makes me happy. And I'm looking forward to seeing all the costumes at the Mad Scientist party that another friend is hosting this weekend. I'll be taking pictures for that one, because that's fun for me. And while I could write quite a bit more, right now, I think what I'm going to do now, is go and clean up a bit around the house, and sit and be cuddled, because that is what will make me feel the best, and I've finally grasped that it's better to just accept that, than try to be stubborn and prideful about it.

Have a good one, internets.

running under the stars

When I was in the sixth grade, I used to love to run. I took it for granted then, the way my body worked, the absolute grace and freedom that I had as my muscles obeyed me and the sheer coordination that made it possible for me to run. I roller skated then, too, for fun. I had amazing balance and essentially had a joy for being in motion.

When I graduated from eighth grade, I got a new bicycle, and loved riding it, because it allowed me to go much faster, and with more grace and coordination than my older bike did. And I rode everywhere. And yet, I still loved to run. Much to my parents chagrin, my personal preference was running at night, and they allowed it because as far as they were concerned, it was exercise, and so they let me go. But what I remember was the feeling of my muscles working, and the freedom of pounding along under the stars as I moved.

I loved that feeling, the way it felt to run all through high school. Sometime after I graduated, my coordination began failing me, and the things I had always taken for granted stopped being fun anymore. A lot of things I had accepted without question, because I honestly didn't really think about anything during that time period, that I'm now questioning.

I miss the body that I used to have. I miss the grace and coordination and general joy that it brought me, and the easy ability to do what I wanted with that body. I honestly don't know how much of it I'll be able to get back. My balance and coordination are a permanent injury, from the brain trauma. I've learned to accept that. I'll never do handstands. I'll never do ballet.

And chances are pretty high that running a marathon is probably not going to be a realistic goal for me. But being able to run at all? With the simple, easy joy that it once brought me? That might be within the realm of reality again, when I'm back down to the size I once was. I can *feel* the way my body once moved, even now. Yes, it fucking hurts, forcing those muscles to obey me. I'm not even trying to say that it doesn't. And yes, the injuries to my hip and my spine are going to remain. I'm paying dearly for even trying to retrain my body to do things it never planned on doing again.

But I'm not looking to be able to be a gymnast, like my daughter. I'm simply looking to be able to enjoy the life I have, and that includes being able to participate in hers, when she visits. Ultimately, that's probably going to mean doing physical therapy again, serious physical therapy again, to work on my spine, and get fitted for braces for my left leg, and I know it. Is that worth it to me? You bet your ass it is, if that's what it takes to give me back that freedom of motion, even temporarily, or even on a part-time basis.

Handy tips on how to get the job done.

Here's a neat list of ideas for getting things done:

1. Turn off the computers. ALL OF THEM
2. Turn off the television.
3. Turn off the phone. This includes your cell phones.
4. Make a list of what needs to be done.
5. If it needs to be done, *do not assume someone else should have to do it*
6. Follow the list.
7. Do it until it's finished, not until you're bored or distracted.


See, here's the trouble with getting things done, and excuses. There is always going to be things that have to be done. And unless you live alone, the way I do, there will *always* be somebody else you can shift the blame to for why it didn't get cleaned up, put away, moved where you wanted it, etc. But the truth is, that the only thing you can control, is yourself. And if you want something done, if you *really* want something done? You have to do it yourself. You can't always be pointing a finger and saying that it should have been someone else's responsibility. If you see that it needed to be done, and no one else did, then ultimately, the person who was responsible for the mess, was you. Bottom line.

And constantly claiming that there's not enough time in the day to get everything done is a cop-out as well. The trouble is that most people won't turn off the electronics, and won't actually go and *do* the cleaning necessary to maintain things the way they want. Everybody wants a housekeeper, and no one wants to *be* the housekeeper.

Such is life.

shepherds of the broken - keeper of the secrets

I keep hearing this phrase inside of my head, sometimes even while I'm asleep "shepherd of the broken". And I know what it means, at least what it means to me. It more disturbs me that I'm hearing it even while I'm unconscious than anything else.

The shepherds of the broken are the people who take care of others. Who fight for those who can't fight for themselves. A lot of the time, these people don't originally choose to fight this battle. They look down in a hospital, and find themselves with the sudden responsibility of someone they love more than life itself, and realize that they've become one of those shepherds, and learn to fight for the broken ones.

Others are naturally that way, who gravitate toward the broken, and have fought for them their whole lives.

I fall somewhere in between. Perhaps 'shepherd of the broken' and 'keeper of the secrets' is somehow linked together in me. My desire to try and help take the hurt away in others, even if it hurts me, gets me into trouble sometimes. And knowing people's secrets can cause pain as well. And no one really knows any of my secrets, who ever truly asks, who I could trust with them in their entirety.

So each day goes by, guarding those who need to be cared for, tending those whose wounds need to be protected. And each night passes, hoping the nightmares will stay at bay long enough to sleep without dreams.

And so the cycle continues.

what happens when you remove the audience participation

I am not always the perfect soul of discretion. Hey, I'm not perfect, and I am, unfortunately, all too human. I shove my foot in my mouth with the best of them. Who doesn't? What I do *not* do, however, is cause public scenes, without a damn good reason. I have to be absolutely furious to cause a public disturbance, and have some incredibly well-founded reasons, and just being a little pissy doesn't come anywhere near to qualifying under those guidelines. Neither does attempting to humiliate someone, simply because I figure I can. And, incidentally, I'm really, really good at making people feel stupid if they get into a pissing contest with me in a public forum.

But it's incredibly rude to do things like that, because for the most part, if you've got some sort of problem with somebody? You handle that shit discretely. You do *not* intentionally walk up to them, in a room full of people, raise your voice to top volume and all but shriek their entire name to make sure the entire room full of people are then focused on the two of you. Because if you do that to *me*, and I happen to be having a really bad day, you're liable to have one of two things happen. I'll either stand up, and point out that you're an uncouth and disrespectful piece of garbage who isn't worth the oxygen that you're breathing, and should have grown up when everyone got out of junior high, and should have been handling whatever petty little grievances you might have happened to be having privately. And I *do* have the vocabulary to support such a dress-down. Or I will simply haul off and punch you in your gods-damned face.

For a change, I happened to *not* be having such a bad day, that I employed a fairly new, third option. Which was having enough common courtesy and diplomacy at hand, all at once, to stand up *and walk outside* before I pointed out that this was a high-school petty bullshit display, and it was immature and idiotic. There was no point to the complete lack of discretion, and no, I wasn't "embarrassed" or "humiliated" or even fearful of such a thing from the fallout, it was simply a matter of respecting the coordinator of the event more than the person who didn't seem to realize that acting like a petty thirteen year old girl in a public place was inappropriate. *I* am thirty-one years old, and much too old to be playing teenage games.

No, I wasn't going to email back and forth defending myself to the likes of such drama. You shoot me a message that states clearly "I have no interest in being friends." My response to that is to remove you from the social networking site list, and to move on with my day. I don't have a need to defend myself from attacks. Conversation or understanding or communication, perhaps. But an attack? No, thank you. I'm not in junior high school, nor will I ever be again.

Which is why I didn't bother standing outside for more than the two minutes it took to snicker, and walk away. I'm also not going to stand and argue the point in person. I have no need to 'defend' an attack. Communicate about it, yes. But 'defend myself', no.

And as I sit and write this now, I'm laughing. Because I could all but see the smoke pouring out of her ears, when she threatened to continue her attack if I walked away from her, and back inside. And it wasn't until I pointed out that *that* would be unacceptable behavior to the coordinator, and against the rules, that she backed down, knowing *I* was the one who followed those rules by insisting it be taken outside in the first place. Her attempt to set me up inside, by causing a scene that *she* started, had irritated me, and the threat that she was going to continue it, angered me, but not enough for her to break and continue the shenanigans. And we both knew it.

The goal was to get me to capitulate, and give her her way, and get some sort of...apology, I guess, so that peace could reign with her in charge once more. Except that I don't function that way. I am a great many things, but a pushover is, unfortunately for a lot of people, not one of them.

Certainly, I like having friends. Who doesn't? But I don't like it enough to put up with the likes of someone who will blatantly lie to my face, and to others, and who wants to be the center of attention all the time.

As a slight side note, the most irritating fact of the whole mess is that what I was accused of doing to her? Was leaking a secret out, that's public knowledge in the first place. *sigh* And *everyone* knows it. Which makes it all the more irritating, as she stood there hopping up and down and swearing that it was this huge secret.

There are days that being the keeper of the secrets is really irritating. Because people like that so seriously deserve to have their own dirty little secrets spit at them, just to point out that if I *truly* wanted to fuck up their precious little worlds? I could, and it would be *SO MUCH MORE INTERESTING* stuff to drop as information into the public domain, than what I'm always getting accused of.

Gods above and below, if you're going to tell me I ruined your life, perhaps I should really start doing that. At least it would be more fun for me.

someone to watch over me

It's the middle of the night again, with the moon shining in the late night sky, while the nightmares chase me from sleep that once again is eluding me and the terrors that terrify me haunt me in a way my subconscious simply can't cope with.

And once more, I sit staring at the expanse of blank white walls, and huddle beneath a black fur blanket, and sit helpless as tears fall down, and wait for everything to pass. And wonder if this time will be the last time, and grow tired of all of it, and tired of fighting with the incessant pain and anger and fighting at an invisible monster that has seemingly no way of being conquered.

And in these late hours, where everything hurts so badly, and all I want is everything to stop, it would be so easy to give up the fight, and just let it all go, and that frightens me more than anything ever has, or ever could.

For everything I've done, and achieved, accomplished and succeeded at. With everything I've become and finally am at the point of standing steadily at...late at night, when I sit here, and am wrapped in a blanket, with pain wracking me, and nothing making sense, all I see, is that when I look around at everyone else, and then look at myself, and my life, and what's left:

There's no one to watch over me. Whether they lie to each other, are unhappy with one another, fight, make up, scream, hate, or love each other...at the end of the day, everyone else has someone to watch over each other...except me.

I have friends, go to school, a job, all the things that make up a normal life, but at the end of the day, when it's time to wind down, and talk about the day, and commiserate with someone who cares, and someone to count on in an emergency. If I'm sick, or unhappy, or need someone...I don't have that. There's no one who loves me, or cares, or wants to be with me, where I am, who wants to be a part of my life, and wants me to be a part of theirs.

And I'm not trying to imply that I have a miserable life, because that is not actually the case. My life is actually very good. But in the middle of the night, when I look around, and I'm alone, and I'm tired, and the nightmares are overwhelming me...and all I really want is someone to hold me, and chase the monsters away? The most lonely feeling in the world is knowing that no one loved me enough to want to watch over me, and wanted to slay the demons that haunted me in my dreams.

on being tactful or diplomatic as the keeper of the secrets

I have no less than six blogs that are more than half written, with links full of recommendations, of advice, among other things, that have never been posted. Six pieces of work, that have never been viewed by anyone but myself, that have been re-read, and revised multiple times, and still left sitting, unposted.

To a certain part as it stands for being the better part of valor, a lesson in tact and diplomacy. Nothing to gain by posting words that would decimate and cause pain, however it might help me to let out the anger or anguish I might be feeling at any given point.

And, as always, I remain the keeper of the secrets. Of everyone's secrets, really. And oh, the constant manipulations, and the lies both small and huge that are told to each other in the name of peace and love and harmony. And it both puzzles and baffles me, to watch the bizarre world that everyone lives in, and this three-ring-circus that's life, and relationships. Everybody loves each other *so much* that they lie, day to day, so they can, what? Keep each other? Is that it? And to be perfectly honest here, as far as I can see, from my quiet corner over here, everybody's quietly miserable, and can't communicate for shit. Not that anybody can be bothered to tell anybody else that. No, everybody is most decidedly farting fucking rosebushes, as far as they tell each other.

No, only the keeper of the secrets knows the truth. No one would actually want to tell the person they should be telling, because then, the house of cards would crumble, and they might have to face that cold, hard reality, and deal with it. And no one likes to do that. That's always my job. People know that. I am the one who deals in reality, whether I want to or not.

I am the one who makes the lousy decisions, and faces the facts when both options suck, and deals with them. I'm the one who tells people what they don't want to hear, and gets kicked to the curb, and dropped as a friend, until it's convenient to be lifted up again. And I know it, and accept it, because that's my job, right? I'm the one who keeps the secrets, the quiet, dirty little secrets.

When it's my own life, and both decisions are lousy, I handle them, and everyone simply expects it of me. Because I always land on my feet. It's just...what I do. No one expects anything less. I find a way, because that's just what a survivor does. What those who deal in reality do.

I plan ahead, I'm *always* looking at the worst-case scenario, and planning for contingencies. The eternal pessimist. But those things that enabled me to make it on my own, when faced with no one to hold me up, and keep a roof over my head, keep things intact, without anyone else supporting me, when there was nobody else but me to count on, are the same things that everyone else expects of me when their lives fall apart.

Those things, are why they continue to call me, and tell me their secrets. All of the problems, and trials and troubles, that they should, by rights, be telling the people they supposedly love the most, but are instead telling me, because I have practical, reasonable advice, if not solutions. And because they've been telling lies, and hiding things from those people who they should have been telling the truth all along to.

Because in all honesty, they're living a life made out of pipe dreams and pretzels, and lives like that aren't stable. The foundation that should have been made out of communication and trust and honesty, has instead been built on manipulation, and deceit and hope and desire. And that isn't the way it's supposed to work.

So, without further ado, here's a couple of links that are food for thought.

This is brought to you by the brilliant mind of Mira Kirshenbaum, who gives us "Too Good to Leave, Too Bad to Stay", information on how to make a decision a little differently on staying in what appears to be a perfectly good long term relationship.

This is brought to you by the relationship gym, who will give you a decent list of how to categorize whether or not you're involved with a partner as a lover, a partner as a best friend, or a business partner. Because unless it's the right fit? That's going to be awkward, and you'll end up as part of the 52% divorce statistic, and that's going to suck.

Just sayin'. And I'm sorry that my blog tonight is so snarky, but it has been a *really* shitty day, on top of a really shitty week, which honestly? Is kind of the fucking cake-topper on a really lousy what feels like life, at the moment, and so I'm just not feeling particularly patient, or sympathetic a whole lot.

I actually have a whole other rant that I kind of want to write out, based from reading someone else's blog, that made me stop, take a very long, hard look around at myself, and my 'friends', and the fact that I'm not thrilled with the fact that I can't actually vouch for very many of them, while pretty much *all* of them, can safely vouch for me. There's nowhere any of them can take me to, and nothing I would do to embarrass them, nothing questionable about me, or my life now, that would cause concern. I cannot say that, about most of my 'friends', and that disturbed me. Realizing that there are that many people I know, who I wouldn't necessarily trust what might come out of their mouths, to do harm to me, or humiliate me just to amuse themselves, or some variation on that theme, didn't make me at all happy.

Wow, that's sort of uplifting and depressing, simultaneously

Dead At 79

From Cancer

View my profile: Controversy23

Find out when and why you'll die, take The Death Test!

Well, given that I'm not actually expecting to survive to reach the age of 79, I suppose that I should be pleased with this result. And I am, somewhat. But most of what I am is surprised. I feel sometimes that I'm living on borrowed time, and so sometimes I do unexpected things, or outlandish things, and act a little wild, simply because I want to live as much as I can in the time that I have.

It would be nice, to live to 79. To have a full, long life...

*circles*

So I have an interview scheduled for Monday at 9, to finish up the things I've got lined up about this job thing. And my finals are all taking place over the next two weeks, which is all just a nice little bow-wrapped kind of circular thing.

I rather like when things go this way, in a nice coordinated fashion. I've been working towards this, and it's nice to see it pay off. If I can get it lined up correctly, I might actually have my summer go the way I'd like it to, and end up enjoying things even more than I'd originally planned, and I had intended to enjoy it thoroughly indeed.

As an aside having nothing to do with work or school:

Wolverine was really good, as I enjoy the X-men to begin with, and will be adding that to my collection. Am looking forward to what I expect to be Gambit as the follow-up sequel.

Am looking forward to going and seeing the new Star Trek film next week, and so that's on tap for fun times :P

There's a Pyrate Faire rolling into town shortly, and am considering going out to that, as it sounds like it'd be a good time.

Brody kicked down with the new pattern for some stuff I want to start sewing, so that'll be a project for a while, to start working with the fabric I have, and will keep me enmeshed for a bit, though I'm going to need her to help with the actual mock-ups for some of it, to help fit it on as custom work doesn't work nearly as well when alone. I thought I might make a couple of skirts while I'm at it, and am even debating making the entire outfit, completely with the lounge pants, so we'll see.

I've been absolutely tearing through books, thanks to the ever-so-helpful recommendations from D, who definitely has some good taste in literature, I'll give him that. Going to need more suggestions soon though, as I'm fast reaching the end of my stockpile, and that just won't do. *rubs hands together* But he has rooms full of such delights, which is always good.

And...I think I might need to purchase a hat.

*watching the tubes*

So, I fired up my other accounts, dusted them off, and am now taking note of the tubes. They appear to be humming right along, and I'm a bit discombobulated, as it were. Not sure what I think about some of what I read, but c'est la vie, as I'm told quite a bit lately. Anyhow, I have plans this evening, that will be running through the weekend, and then yet more mountains of homework (don't I always?) to do. So, I hope everyone has a good and happy weekend, and is content with their world, as I am in mine these days.

Leave me comments, they amuse or uplift, or at least give me something to read from the voices in the abyss :)

Latez, peeps.