Whaddaya MEAN You've Never Heard of Me?!?

Looking over my last few Lj entries, several of them have been responses to the Writer's Block suggested topics. Obviously, these topics are designed to get your thinker going so you can post something interesting for a change. So yeah, if one strikes me I'll go ahead and comment, as I've been doing lately.

Problem is, I shouldn't have so much difficulty finding things to post about. If you've ever had a friend who was homebound, or jobless, or in the hospital...all they talk about is stuff they've seen on TV or the Internets. Kinda like how people with their first kid talk about nothing but the kid for like, a year or more until someone reminds them that THEY are the one we're interested in. Walking, smiling, making a noise, moving bowels, or eating oatmeal is just not that interesting to me no matter how cute the kid is who does it. Point being, I don't ever want to be one of those people who runs completely out of life experiences to talk about--who then ends up talking about media, other people, and whatever else just to avoid admitting that they aren't doing a goddamn thing with their lives. It scares the ever loving shit out of me, to be frank. If the most interesting thing I've done in a week is watch a funny TV show, I'm making a mockery of what life is supposed to be.

So when I realize that it's nearing the end of January and I don't even have a press packet done for my new book--I hate it. I've done precious little work on my new zombie novel--though I'm sort of waiting for The Crazies to drop so I can avoid anything they're doing. I actually have opportunties to get my work in people's faces, at least locally, and I'm slagging off. I'm feeling far too depressed to hype myself, to tell people how valuable and worthwhile my work is, or that I have a big, splashy event coming up. I can't let depression (or mania, for that matter) keep me from doing what I need to do in order to have the life I want to have. I wish I could go back to the docs, but I can't even afford to see my regular doc, much less a new psyche doc. I couldn't even afford to get my hair cut and had to do it myself (a friend cut the back and it's not glaringly uneven).

So if you see me online slagging off, playing Facebook games, or Xbox, or watching more than 1 movie a day, or taking afternoon naps, don't be afraid to tell me to get my ass back to work. Tell me that I'm awesome and if I miss an opportunity to tell the world I'm awesome, I'll regret it forever. Some day, I'll have enough money to buy H and I a house. And if I'm the one who pays for it, he'll have to let me bring Pentelope. Yeah!

In other news, I have a Tres Leches Cake soaking in the fridge right now. It's my first one ever, and I'm hoping that it's delicious. Seems like anything soaked in sweetened condensed milk will be yummy, but I've had some collossal baking missteps in my day, so we shall see.

Just getting back to work after a self-imposed 3-day weekend. One of my co-workers was kind enough to take my Friday shift so I could get some sleep and decompress. My body is going through something major right now, now sure what. Feels like I've changed my meds but I actually haven't. Not sure what's up with that, but I'll spare you the girly TMI and the borderline psychotic shit.

Decided that I'll be resurrecting my Zombie story (pun intended) from 1995 and combine it with a kickass idea I got from absolutely_lee. Then, I'll throw in my (comparatively) newfound ability to write compelling first-person narration. And wrap it all up with an ending that will make your grandmother blush. I'll keep you's posted.

Been playing a lot of this Happy Aquarium game on the Facebook. It's delightful.


I've been thinking lately about how some of the best people I know have such difficulty in finding a suitable partner. It's led me to think about the difference between popularity with your gender of choice, and compatibility with that one special person.
My close friends all tend to be pretty remarkable people. (Most of you should take this personally, because this time I AM talking about YOU) They are talented, introspective, have strong opinions on social issues and the lively arts, literature etc. They create things, they value interpersonal relationships, they strive to be clear communicators. They are witty and charming, and looking to form a mutually respectful and loving relationship based on honesty and genuine affection. Isn't that what most people want? You know what? I don't think it is.

People get married for a lot of dumb reasons: pressure from partner or family, pregnancy, wanting to escape a bad situation, need for money or insurance, or just because they think it's what you're supposed to do. With that in mind, it's no wonder the "traditional marriage" divorce rate is so damn high. People know full-well that it's not going to work. Marrying someone in the hope that they'll change is a sure-fire recipe for a divorce.
I know people who honestly base their relationship on some kind of tit-for-tat arrangement. You do X for me, and I'll do Y for you. There is little, if any, sense of just doing something for the other person because you value their happiness. It makes me sad. Obviously, people who put themselves first in every situation (unless they're making a showy display of how UNselfish they are) make shitty partners. For some reason though, nurturing people are drawn to them.
I also know plenty of people who married jerk-ass losers because they honestly didn't think anyone else would marry them. I almost did that myself--twice, before I met H. I'd be surprised if either of those marriages would have ended in anything less than homicide.

I think the reason my friends have such a tough time finding the right partner is because they are truly looking for a life-partner. They won't tolerate someone with no respect for their feelings--rather than making excuses for them and hoping they'll change. They will be bored and/or annoyed when people have no understanding or interest in anything they love. They may say they aren't looking for much in a partner. Money is not a big deal for them, they are flexible on physicality, education, family of origin and even physical or mental health. But what they want the affection, admiration and respect that they deserve--which is much more difficult to find than say, a hottie or a cool car.


And finally, Sunday Night FOX was all new last night. For the first time, I made a mental note of the fact that after 8:30, I gasped in shock about as often as I LOL'd. Filth! As Marge Simpson would say FOX turned into a hardcore pornography channel so gradually, I hardly noticed.

Had a MANDATORY work meeting at 8:30am so that a bunch of stiffs (literally--NO speaking skills whatsoever) could try to sell us insurance. Open enrollment, you know. You'd think if they were pitching a bunch of crappy insurance to people who actually work in sales, that they'd have a better selling technique. But no...they basically read a couple of powerpoint presentations to us. *snore*

Health insurance makes me angry anyway. I am resentful of the idea that essential services should be a priviledge of the wealthy--health care being one of the most essential of all. Our main health program has a bunch of questionaires, and if you admit to having more than an average of 2 drinks a day, or smoking, or if you have a BMI over 30--you have to go to extra doc appointments (racking up extra deductables) so they can "counsel" you about your naughty naughty habits. They specifically mention binge eating, diabetes, and stress management.

"But Wednes" you may say, "Screening out unhealthy people is how they keep costs down." To which I reply: No, that's how they make money off insurance, which I maintain should not be allowed to happen. Everyone should get the care they need, be it preventative, maintenance-based, or for an illness they've had all their life. The best way to "keep costs down" is to stop treating health care like something poor people don't deserve. I'll forgo the rant about how poor people have a tougher time staying healthy because they can't afford healthy foods, proper medical checkups, prenatal care, or mental health services despite a strong and obvious need for them. You're welcome.

( My own harrowing and infuriating tale of diabetes management ) I would have discussed it with my psyche doctor but my insurance plan does not cover psyche until you pay a huge deductible that I can't pay and still get my meds.

As if all that wasn't annoying enough, they have some chick talk about health insurance I'm not even eligible for. When she was done, they had the supplemental, duck-based company tell us how important it is that we start paying for our elder care insurance now because it'll be so cheap. Basically the message is that we really need insurance, but it won't cover everything so we also need second insurance so we can be covered for real. And of course all these insurers can drop you if you do any of the naughty, naughty things that they don't want you to do. Because that's what you're paying all that money for--so that strangers can judge you and charge you more for not abiding by their arbitrary rules. BTW, the World Health Organization roundly disputes the assertion that low BMI equates to overall good health. AND you're more likley to survive a heart attack if your BMI is higher.

The only things I cared abut at all on this topic are Life Insurance, which I cannot get; and Mental Health Care, which was not even mentioned. But since they monitor pre-existing conditions (you know, like violence, assault, etc) pretty closely, I'd imagine I'm not elligible for any of that since I already have a diagnosis. I'd actually have to hurt someone in order to get some care. What a fine system we have--I can't imagine why anyone poor would want to change it!!


In other news, there's a rumor circulating that my work wants people to take personality tests. Something other than the Myer-Briggs as far as I know. My boss hasn't heard about it yet, but they are starting with other departments. So I'm already working on reasons why I need to excuse myself from such a thing. I'm mentally ill dammit, and that's nobody's business but mine, H's, and anyone I choose to tell--such as readers of this unlocked post. ;-]

Why have I been thinking about having a drink all day? I don't even LIKE being drunk.

I pondered it.

Pondered.

Pondered.

I wasn't socializing, or going to the movies or a concert. I'm staying at home, playing Xbox, dicking around online, writing, playing some tunes...typical solitary weekend activities. So why did I want to drink so bad?

Ah yes...I'd forgotten.

It's my Mom's birthday.

*sigh*


That said, I've been thinking about Narcissus lately. I'm concerned that rereading my old LJ posts is going to lead to me leaping headfirst into my own literary reflection. I've only read A Stabbing for Sadie once since it came out. I've read Harry Potter 6 more often than that. But my intellectual vanity is a force to be reckoned with; and I worry that I'm getting a little too self absorbed with all my online dealings. Sometimes I'm far too pleased with my own past witticisms. I keep saying, "It's for publicity. People gotta know about my book," or that I need to "keep track of things," in case I posted something ridiculous in the middle of the night. Do you guys reread your old stuff? Am I once again worried over nothing?

And finally, Google has an Elmer Fudd language setting. It's most enjoyable and gets my recommends.

I changed a few of my tags recently. My "dulcimer" tag became "musicality" so it can encompass my violin studies, and I also plan to add tags to my adventures with building and making noise with my theremin. I also changed my HHB tag that used to indicate all my Hot Hot Boss rantings those of you who've been around that long know about. These posts are a good window into my inner psychotic obsessive personality. Henceforth, they shall be defined by the new tag: "faux erotomania" which is hilarious. One of my unfinished manuscripts, as some of you know, is about an erotomaniac with a HHB.

Anywhoo, I bring this up because I'm immersing myself further into the cult of Voltaire (found 'round these parts as voltairenyc because some random jackass took the name voltaire and didn't do a damn thing with it. Like my own name, people who aren't me who try to use it really need to step off.). I won an eBay auction for some early prints of 3 Voltaire comic books. I imagine they will be gothy and delightful. Two of them are about an evil Teddy Bear named Deady, which I also recently purchased in the form of a zipper pull for the low, low price of $6.66. If this guy turns out to be some kind of lamewad, I'd rather find out about it sooner or later. Seems unlikely though based on what I've seen so far.
I'm investing quite a bit of fangirl energy into the Voltaire thing. He's over at the MySpace and FB and appears to be pretty active in talking to fans and being a self promoter. Not a criticism, just an observation. When I run into people from my past on FB, right after "hey" and "what are you up to?" I have to bust out with "You know I had some books published...you should totally buy one." If anything, I should be doing more self promoting. Like I was saying, he's one of these renaissance man types. His body of work is so prolific and varied that I thought he might be a label some company slapped on stuff to sell it to goth kids. But no, he's a real dude. I assumed the name was made up, but no. It's his middle name. You'd think his first name might be something embarrassing or ordinary. Wrong again. It's "Aurelio." That's almost TOO badass. Plus, he likes Ray Harryhousen. I know, right?!

When I was a kid, writing to a famous person was a big deal. I didn't write to actors or musicians as a kid. As you might imagine, I wrote to authors. I received form return letters from Charles Shulz, Donald J Sobel, Dr Suess, Judy Blume...all the biggies for kids back then. It was a big freakin' deal (and one of the only things I actually care that my Mom is keeping from me) to a young kid who wanted to be a writer.
Now, you can talk to people on the internet. It's a big disappointment, in fact, if they don't personally run their own online accounts. If Colbert can find time to Tweet, Anthony Michael Hall should be able to run his own freakin' MySpace page (his mom runs it, I am told). I say this, of course, never having met either guy and also knowing that AMH is bi-polar. For all I know, he can't run his own stuff, but I digest.

When I got older, they told famous people not to answer fan mail because it can encourage obsessive crazy fans. Frankly, someone people call "king of the goths" might unknowingly cultivate some unbalanced fans. Obviously not all goth kids have mental hoo-ha, but I think a lot of kids with issues find goth to be a comforting and accepting movement. I wish it had been available to me as a teen. But my point here is that stalkers are out there. I had a radio stalker for a short time, as well as a phone sex client who got my address from the phone company and sent stuff to my house. Ick. Who knows what an unbalanced goth or emo kid might send you. Let's just say I'm in no big rush to read Morrissey's fan mail. ;-]

I've been playing the crap out of the song I posted about yesterday. The Man Upstairs. Like many things I adore, it's about murder and crazy people. It evokes memories, the kind that are disturbing but also comforting because they're familiar. It reminds me of dudes who would say "If you love me, you'll *insert something that comes from a mentality of bat-shit craziness* just because I asked" at a time when I was love-starved enough to comply. And I'm telling you, I've dated men who make my zombie holocaust fear look like a friggin' stamp collection. Plus, you know...there's murder talk. I love murder talk.



I hate to say it; he's also pretty hot.
And, he's not some jerkass kid, he's older than I am.

As we all know, the climate is changing. Bummer. We're also running out of natural resources and all need to pay very close attention to the way we consume things. Green light bulbs, recycled toilet paper, biodegradable soaps that don't clean so well--basically the only thing soap needs to do. And...we diversify. That's a word a learned being on the debate team in high school. Diversification: to vary the range of products or field of operation. That's for business, but it applies to us as well. We can't do just one or two things for the environment, we need to do everything we can. And that is why...

We must all buy chocolate made from camel's milk.

Seriously, it's gonna be delicious.
So get out there and buy it.

Yes, that whole environmental lead-in was just a front for talking about chocolate. Sorry for the ruse, folks. But chocolate is very, very important to me.

Also, I somehow forgot to take my meds for the last 24 hours.
Really.
And it's the new moon so I'm feeling loopy as hell.
Tonight I'm gonna pull an all nighter working on the draft. I tend to do my best noveling when I'm feeling less than fully sane. Off I go then!

Not really "feeling it" today. Don't want to go to work. Don't feel able to write. Not wanting to be social or productive and am really just forcing myself to do regular, normal stuff. In short, I'm very depressed. And I'm sick to death of it. Had to postpone my doc appointment due to finances, but hopefully I'll be able to go next week.

H and I watched the BattleStar Galactica finale last night.
( My spoilery thoughts on the matter )That said, I can't imagine we'll watch Caprica. I don't even know who the Greystone's are.

I also caught the Big Love season finale last night. I have to say, I feel bad for Albee. With Roman as his father, I don't see how he could have become anything other than what he is. Nicky is a different story, as she has had the unconditional love of a family for quite some time now, and she keeps fucking up. I think Bill is in the right there. Joey's whole deal was a surprise, though of course it makes a lot of sense. I really do enjoy that show, though even for HBO, a ten episode season is pretty punk.

The latest word on Daniel Radcliffe's stunt double is that he will be a quadriplegic. It's very sad, the poor kid was only 25. I guess they've finally repoened the set and have resumed filming.

I've been complaining recently that my intense sanity is making it more difficult to write. I said that not being in touch with my inner nut-job is very much hurting my work. And it's true.

As some of you know, I stopped taking Abilify (a mood stabilizer) recently because we can't afford it. I'm still taking my other anti-crazy pill, so I'm not going to go completely off the deep end. But I tell you, I'm really feeling the crazy these days. I was manic for a week or so, now I'm so depressed I can hardly function. I started sobbing this morning when I couldn't play my brother's voice message on the Xbox. It was absurd.

You'd think all this crazy would be good for the prose. But I can't function well enough to both work and write. Seven and eight hour days on the phones feels like much more than I can handle, and I don't get a day to myself for at least a week. Whine Whine, I know...but I'm not sure how long I'll be able to deal with all this before I start feeling better. I can't both work and write when I'm like this, so working is all I can do since I can't call off or quit my job. I'd like to though...

( I saw Watchmen, and I think...(spoilers) )

I have MC Chris's song "Fetts Vette" stuck in my head. Boooooo!

Like every Monday, this morning was very difficult. Plus I have a terribly busy week this week so I could get Friday off. Now, it turns out that I didn't need Friday off but I actually need the following Tuesday off. I was able to switch, so I can still go out of town. Everything feels more difficult and stressful than it should these days...

Still feeling quite manic. It's a bummer because while being depressed makes everything more difficult, mania is actually MUCH more dangerous in terms of screwing up my life. I spend too much money, indulge in way too much of this or that ;-] and tell everyone I know exactly what I think of them...which is NOT the way to win friends and influence people. ;-] I'll be glad when I'm feeling better. It's one of those things that you have to just man-up and tough it out. Then again, it might turn out that I really need my other meds, we'll just see how it goes I guess.

In brighter news, the new guy at work brought us chocolate with bacon in it. I had a bacon-chocolate dessert on my honeymoon in Chicago and it was yummers! This is a chocolate bacon bar, so it's not as decandent, but damn tasty all the same.

Created by Train Horn

H can hear it just fine, but I can't at all. Alas, I am decrepit. Frown and Fie!

Still working on my story for these guys about the threat of being eaten. I'm writing something I like, but I'm not sure how well it will fit in with what they want. I might try to start something new if I go to Clare next weekend with absinthofheart and her fam. The scheduling for the trip got kind of messed up so I'm not sure I will attend. I do enjoy having a place to write where there's no TV or internet to distract me. Plus there's nature and a fireplace and stuff.

The onion in the ointment, as it happens, is that my lack of Abilify is making me manic. I tend not to be very good company when I'm having a manic episode, though the writing that comes out of such mania is often quite good. I was completely unmedicated when I wrote Sadie, and that is the best thing I've written thusfar. I've often thought I wouldn't be able to write well with the meds, and I still suspect that perhaps my best work is behind me. I wish I could live on an island and not work so it doesn't matter if I'm crazy or not. Sometimes I feel totally out of touch with my inner nut-job, which for a horror writer is not the best thing. Anyway, being manic is a drag, and I would probably get in trouble if I murdered nate101000 because of it.

It is also a bummer for work. It's much more difficult to be calm and collected with stupid people, rude people, people I can't understand, children, and people who call my sales line and then ask to put me on hold. Sadly, that is a fair sampling of the people I talk to.

Well, I'm back to work today, ready or not.
I'll have to say "not" because I'm still smack in the middle of a major depressive episode. Even my impending retail therapy is not cheering me up, which means this is the real deal.

Since I never found a suitable new doc, I have to consult my old doc and see if I can get Packard Clinic to prescribe my crazy pills for me. I can NOT go off my meds, no matter what.



JoJo just puked on the floor. It makes me laugh how he runs away from his own puke, like it's going to jump out and hurt him or something. I guess that's what he would do in the wild. Of course, in the wild he wouldn't be licking dirty dishes in the sink, thus making himself sick. He simply cannot handle any amount of people food, except yogurt. Pente doesn't like people food, so she only pukes when she has a hairball.


In other news, H is great, I'm getting a new computer and iPod soon, new glasses and a new phone. I have very little to complain about, and feel sort of guilty for having depression when my life is so nice.


The credit card system at Stonegarden is supposed to be back up today so all of you who were waiting can finally order your signed copy of The Cat's Apprentice.

In other news, one of my meds has just gone generic, saving me a whopping $55 per month. Whoo Hoo.

Had people over tonight to watch the Bob Saget Roast, which should prove hilarious.


Question of the day: What is your favorite animal to watch nature shows about?

Received some CD's from the lovely and talented princezna in ye olde mailbox today. madush69 will be picking his up tomorrow.

I'm meeting my new psyche doc tomorrow, not that I'm in any mood. I don't see why after years of experimenting to find the right meds, I still have to see a psyche doc every few months to get my scrips filled. It's such a pain in the ass, and I don't really want to tell my whole, sad story to yet another person being paid to listen. I guess after having completed 3 years of intense therapy I feel resentful at having to go back. Maybe I'll just give her a copy of my book? ;-]

I applied for a new job today, as Office Manager for Catholic Social Services. I'd be glad to work for them, they do a lot of good for people.

Tonight after work? Ironman with H.
He's already seen it, but really wants me to see it too, so we're going again.

Treated myself to a year's worth of LJ time.
I deserve it, after all.

My new bag is awesome, even though it's bigger than the old bag, it still fits nicely into my desk drawer at work. It has a light, enough pockets to keep all my stuff straight, 2 extra zippered bags, and mesh holding thingys on the inside so I don't have to search for pills or my sunglasses. Plus there's a clip for my keys. It's nifty.

The Cat's Apprentice is now availible for preorder.
Can you even beleive that?
I barely can.

Whelp, my very last day of therapy was yesterday. I had to do this thing where I write down my state of affairs when I entered the program 3 years ago versus where I am now. It's pretty amazing everything I've been able to accomplish. I don't flinch when people try to hug me anymore, and I don't smoke pot like it's my second job. I don't go off on people for no reason anymore, and I don't stay awake for days at a time, then sleep for a whole day. There's more, but I don't want to bore anyone with the ins and outs of therapy, Group, or EMDR. It was awesome though, and I'm a better person for it.

Watched 28 Weeks Later last week. More of the same really, but since it's more of the same of 28 Days Later, it was pretty good. Robert Carlyle is always fun to watch, and the main kids were pretty good. The US Army was portrayed kinda badly, but I guess that's to be expected. Overall, this film gets my recommends.

Both of my books are in production now. People are liking Cat's Apprentice more than I thought they would. So I'm dreading the release of that book a little less. I still have to get my head shot (LOL) taken for the book back, and I have a ton of edits to go over for both books still. It's pretty exciting, but it's also a lot of hard work. I'll be running my press release by you all once I've written it.

Also, I decided that without his integrity, Jon Stewart would be little more than Bill Maher. Not to slam Jon, I just mean that his integrity and straightforwardness, and his ability to put his money where his mouth is is nothing short of amazing. He's the most trusted news guy in America, the land of news guys. I love that Jon Stewart, and you should too! Old news, I know. I just felt like mentioning it.

My cab for work will be here soon, so I shall close.

Funny you should ask...several things really.

1. The Writers Strike. It sucks, I hate it, and I want new Daily Show and Colbert.

2. Meds. Having issues, bleah!

3. I am Legend. I mean, seriously.

4. Mental Health treatment in general. Bail, I think, bail.

5.

21,752 / 50,000 (43.5%)

Where once I was ahead, so now I am behind. I had to reread everything up to this point today just to see if I was telling a cohesive story. I almost am.

I was going to do 5 things that are great, but nate101000 just arrived so I must close.

why it's so important to take my meds and be "sane".

Right now it feels like all this work and therapy and meds and crap is just making it so I can get and keep this mediocre job that gets less enjoyable by the day. I realize that work is a huge part of life for most people; maybe I'm just being a big baby about it all. But I hate the fact that I've been through all this counseling and EMDR and other mindfucking work just to get to a point where I can have a crappy job like everybody else.

I think it's the meds that are making me not be able to write like I used to. My "mood swings" as people call them are where all the deep thoughts come from. Mania has it's up side, and depression is great for the writing. Maybe I'm just a sucky writer but was able to fool myself into thinking I was good because I was too crazy to know any better.

My first novel, A Stabbing for Sadie is the best thing I've ever written. Everything else has been mediocre at best. Why? Because I wrote it both utterly without meds and with constant pot smokery. And it's really good. Really, really honest and truthful. It will reach people, it already has. What if I have to go off the meds to be able to write like that again? What happens to the rest of my life then?

So I'm torn between doing what I'm supposed to and just living like an average jerk, or going the tough way without meds or therapy and be the writer I want to be. What to do...

I miss my mood swings. I miss the mania, hell, I even miss the depression and calling in crazy for work. Maybe I'm not explaining this right, I don't have a lot of time now as I've got to go back to work and I'm having menstrual cramps that could kill a small child.

You know how sometimes someone will put a thought in your head and it'll just stay with you and fester until it's difficult to think about anything else? I'm having one of those days. You see, my good friend lickingtoad just brought up the idea of how we compare ourselves to other people our own age, maybe people we went to school with or who grew up near us. For those of us with mental health issues, we get slapped in the face with the idea of how different our lives would be if only we weren't so sick--or in some cases--if we'd been diagnosed correctly the first couple of times we sought help.

I'm totally stuck in a rut of anger, I'm really pissed about how many people I know--people who aren't any smarter or more talented than I, who have successful lives and careers and money to do cool things with. Meanwhile H and I can't afford a freakin' iPod or something as simple as a trip to Philly to meet his family. If I were "normal" or even "average" things would be very different.

Not sure if all this wondering and pissyness isn't just an excuse for how poorly my life is going. Deep down though, I don't think it is. After all, I've only been on proper medication with a proper diagnosis for three of my thirty six years on this planet. I've only been away from daily abuse for eight years, and I've only been getting treatment for past trauma for a year or so. This doesn't even count all the times I've been put on exactly the wrong meds for my condition because male doctors refused to listen to me or believe what I was telling them.

Now of course my life is comprised of me trying to get some happy, and then waiting for the other shoe to drop once I get some. All I can think about is what's going to come along next to fuck up the scraps of goodness I've managed to grab. It keeps me from enjoying anything, and makes me angry at anyone who has it better than me (the way I see it). And it's very, VERY annoying.

The Blogalyser reveals...

Your blog/web page text has an overall readability index of 10.
This suggests that your writing style is simplistic
(to communicate well you should aim for a figure between 10 and 20).
Your blog has 23 sentences per entry, which suggests your general message is distinguished by verbosity
(writing for the web should be concise).

CHARACTER MATRIX

male		female
self		world
past		future

Your text shows characteristics which are 57% male and 43% female
(for more information see the Gender Genie).
Looking at pronoun indicators, you write mainly about yourself, then the world in general and finally your social circle. Also, your writing focuses primarily on the present, next the past and lastly the future.

Find out what your blogging style is like!

In other news, I hear The Simpsons movie is great. And I even heard it from REAL Simpsons fans, not all those creeps that say the show hasn't been good in years. Which generally means they haven't taken the time to watch. Anyway, H says he wants to go, so maybe we will.

Just got home from therapy. Usually I go every other week, but last week was such a mindfucker that I came back in just one week.

She (my therapist, Julie) doesn't think it's the meds making me so depressed. She thinks it's grief. I'm grieving the loss of my family still, and it's especially poignant now because of the wedding coming up. Of course it is sucky that my family doesn't want to know me, let alone come to my wedding. I'm a good kid, I don't deserve this.

Bi-polar disorder runs in my family as far back as anyone can remember. But no one calls it that. In my family, if you aren't hearing voices, then you are "just fine." Why would someone who's "just fine" need therapy? To get attention of course. The family line is that I only think there's something wrong with me (read: it's all in my head) and I make a big deal out of it to get attention. Couple this with a slew of family members who desperately need therapy and medication and you've got a recipe for utter disaster. In my family, the black sheep are the people who actually got help for themselves instead of wallowing in the family craziness. Me, my uncle Vic, my great uncle Joe, my cousin Victoria, and my Aunt Millie would all appear as scorch marks on the family tree.

I'm not a fan of grief, I imagine no one is. For now though, I'm stuck with it until I can figure out a way to reconcile my abysmal family situation. I have to keep reminding myself that no one in my family is going to suddenly apologize or admit their part in anything (although it's been suggested that I apologize and then would be forgiven--but I'm not about to apologize for my unwillingness to accept abuse. I just won't do it. They are all still pretending that there was no abuse, which makes me more angry than any other part of this) And of course, even if we were all speaking, they would not come to my wedding because they are racist bastards.

It also seems like my customary defenses are abandoning me. I'm not very chatty lately, I have no sarcasm in me, and I don't feel like discussing any current events. People keep asking me if I'm mad at them because I haven't had much to say. Be assured that I'm not mad at anyone I'm not related to, I'm just feeling like...like I'm on my way to a funeral without even the buffet to look forward to, if that makes any sense.

Yes, I know I supposed to be working on my Cat novel. And NO, I've gotten almost no actual work done tonight. I talked to some people online, used my new memory (that's right, I got more memory today) and I got to watch some trailers as a result. So HA!

Anyway, here's one of those frivolous posts people make when they're bored:

1. What is your favorite board game?

I like Trivial Pursuit, Scrabble, and Othello a lot. Mine and H's fave to play though is Zombies!!! which is about fighting and avoiding zombies to get to the helipad. We also play the mall expansion pack, which is great.

2. What is your favorite card game?

I enjoy both Euchre and Uno very much. But I'm mainly partial to Lunch Money where you get to beat the crap out of people using cards. We have a couple sets of these.

3. Do you like to play games on the computer or on a gaming system?

Sometimes

4. If so, what is your favorite game to play?

Pinball of the Dead for GBA is probably my most played game. But we're getting a Wii with our wedding monies, if any, so that's gonna be swell.

5. Do you like to play games with people or to play them alone?

Depends on the people, but yeah, I like to play games with other people.

There was no place on here to mention Mad Libs, but I also dig Mad Libs.
We're playing them at my wedding.

'What will your obituary say?' at QuizGalaxy.com

Well, that's not morbid at all.

For those of you who've been concerned (read: all of you) my med adjustment is going along nicely. I predict that soon I'll be exhibiting a peppier, more productive self that doesn't sleep 12 hours a day or obsessively watch wedding shows, or TV at all for that matter. Yay!!

I haven't heard if LOST is staging some new kind of summer internet, keeping us interested until next season kind of activity. I sort of hope they do, in case I get stupidly bored without a job this summer.

LOST tonight was way far amazing. I knew we'd get some facts following Ben, and we did. ( cut for some spoilers ) So thank you LOST, for serving up some drama and some story, even if it only serves to raise more questions. I really need a cool icon or two with Ben Linus. I heart Michael Emerson and his crazy ass TV performances. He's actually a stage actor, he does a lot of comedy. Can you imagine? Comedy

Group was a mind fucker. I'm trying to work out how much denial I'm in; and what, if anything, I intend to do about it. Truth is, that if I had a job my life would be pretty damn good right about now. Some of you have suggested that writing is my job, which is sweet of you. But I need the kind of job where you get money every week or two. Somebody out there must need a friendly receptionist, mustn't they? In all seriousness, I'm not sure what I want to do as far as staying in the program. I wish I could just work with the employment people, but they don't want me to get a job before the wedding and then have to take time off. Frankly, I won't really be into a job while the wedding planning is going on, so it's probably better to wait. I kind of need to work now though. :-[ Sometimes I wish I had abilities that were more "normal" and "average" so I could be happy just working some crappy food service job or something. But in RL I would hate that with a seething passion, which means I would end up fucking it up just so I wouldn't have to deal with it.

I borrowed Hannibal Rising and am nearly prepared to give it a read. I am in the middle of Harry Potter 6 at the moment, so as soon as GreyStash kicks it, I'll be reading about Lecter. I hope it's good, I didn't check out any reviews. For whatever reason, I only keep up with movie reviews. So tell me, dear readers, What's a book I can read that will scare the hell out of me? Any book, from any time, so long as it's incredibly scary. Let's have it!

This week will be my first interview for my novel A Stabbing for Sadie. The good people at NaNoWriMo have asked me to interview for WriMo Radio and I said "Um...okay."

I'll be keeping everyone posted as to when they can listen to me be funny and talk about my book.


Tomorrow I'm making my first ever gumbo. I'm making the stock for it tonight, which is crab legs (minus most of the meat) and shrimp tails boiling away. I'm using a modified version of Alton Brown's gumbo, because he is my kitchen guru. I always feel confident about new dishes after watching AB make them. He is also the reason that my choco-chip cookies, chili, shish kafta, and many other dishes meet friend-wide acclaim. Although the pineapple upside down bundt cake is all Wednes. Anyway, this gumbo will also have chicken and spicy sausage, trinity and broccoflower and okra. They didn't have fresh so I'm using frozen. I bought canned okra as well but can't imagine it will thicken properly.


We're working on this thing in therapy where I have to practice being happy and content. Turns out, I have no idea how to sustain either of these for any length of time. Instead of being happy and letting my life be pleasant and calm, I either create drama or succumb to feelings of doom. Yeah, I succumb to feelings of doom--if that's not literary enough for ya. I'm always worried that I'll die in my sleep or that something bad will happen to H. They say it's pretty common. Waiting for the other shoe to drop so much so that it makes it hard to live. Sounds a bit too debilitating to be commonplace, but what the hell do I know. I just need to work on it, in a way that doesn't involve affirmations. I hate affirmations. Hopefully I won't have to work on this stuff for very long, I'm fairly impatient as far as patients go. ;-] My therapist keeps reminding me that I didn't develop my issues in a few weeks or months, and that while fixing them will take much less time--it's still going to take some time. EMDR is going really well too, but I'll spare you the specifics.

I kind of wish I could watch YouTube. I don't have enough memory, and some of you post them at least half the time. I feel like I'm missing so much.

I decided to stop watching Law & Order reruns yet again. I periodically give them up so I won't spend so much writing time watching reruns on TV. But in addition to them being a huge time waster, I think all that violence is actually bad for me. Over time, I seem to be convinced that violent B&E's, tragic accidents, and all manner of incidental murder is lurking around every corner. I'm fairly sure I'm going to die every time I get into a car; and every time H leaves the house, I'm sure he's about to be robbed or hit by a car or something else terrible. As such, I'm going to stop perpetually watching shows where these things happen several times a night. I suspect that it will be good for me.

Speaking of writing time, I'm 1-2 chapters away from being finished with the third draft of The Cat's Apprentice. I'm also really excited about outlining the next project. The writing in general has been going fast and really, really well. Yay!!! Everything is being locked posted over at wednes_writes and is available for your reading pleasure as soon as you join.

As for television, FOX cartoons were quite funny tonight. Family GUy in particular was harsh and laughworthy. I was glad to see new King of the Hill (which I did not know were coming until today) Although Peggy Hill's insecurity and ignorance are fairly tired gags even after the long break between seasons. Everything else on FOX cartoon night was comedy gold.

ROME also served up the craziness. Lots of naked men tonight, hot ones. And I'm really glad to see that the Vorena are likely to be found. It would have been really horrible just to have them sold as slaves and that's it. I guess we'll get to see the new Octavian next week. That'll be awesome. I'm trying to resist going over to Wikipedia to read up on my Roman history so I'll know what's coming. I have a feeling Marc Antony and Cleopatra are totally going to get together. Though I would not be at all bummed if Atia happened to die, I don't think she will.
Also, Extras tonight had Daniel Radcliffe as the guest. Apparently he likes cigarettes and women and that's basically it. Anyway, it was damn funny.

There is a giant bottle of pills missing from my apartment. I get my pills from this donation service where the company sends me my pills in the mail. I just got a three month supply of Abilify and it's totally fucking missing. Tearfully, I tore this apartment a new one looking for the bottle. Then H came home and did the same thing. They weren't moved. They weren't accidentally put in the wrong place. They didn't fall somewhere, the cat didn't bat them around, they were not swallowed up by the Earth.

All I can think of is that the maintenance man stole them. No one else has been here except good friends. My friends do not steal from me, so as much as I don't want to blame the maintenance guy, he's the only one who had access.

So, I'm out over $700 worth of pills that I need and certainly can't pay for.
I want to report it to the police, but I don't want police to come here.
I couldn't even call the apartment office because they all left early. Fuckers!

What would you do if you were me?


In better news, the yarn I ordered from Amazon came today. I'm going to try to make myself some slippers after I finish all my hats and the draft of Kitten Claws.

My eating habits have been appalling lately. After my NYE party, I'm going back to my proper habits, maybe buying some veggies instead of the cheesedogs I found on sale. Are any of you coming to my party, BTW? Only a few of you RSVP'd. I still don't know what I'm making, I didn't get any pineapple rings. Anyway, I need to stop living on comfort food.

My phone keeps shutting itself off for no reason. I missed four calls yesterday. Frown.
I'm due for a new phone soon...overdue in fact. H is taking his sweet time about getting it.

From Dictionary.com:

FEAR [feer]
–noun
1. a distressing emotion aroused by impending danger, evil, pain, etc., whether the threat is real or imagined; the feeling or condition of being afraid.
2. a specific instance of or propensity for such a feeling: an abnormal fear of heights.

ANXIETY [ang-zahy-i-tee]
–noun, plural -ties.
1. distress or uneasiness of mind caused by fear of danger or misfortune:
2. earnest but tense desire; eagerness

WORRY [wur-ee, wuhr-ee]
–verb (used without object)
1. to torment oneself with or suffer from disturbing thoughts; fret.


I've been thinking a lot about worry and axiety lately, and how much of my anxiety stems from fears that border on totally irrational. Of course, the internet doesn't help. I worry that something bad will happen to H. I worry that I'll never find a job and be penniless and reliant forever. I'm anxious that I'll never be published or picked up by an agent, and that all my efforts will be for nothing. I worry that I'll never actually have my life or priorities in order. I bet I'm not alone in this, so I'll ask.

[Poll #883691]

Once again TV was serving up the love. LOST failed to disappoint with drastic character revelations and something actually happening for a change. I beleive that Ben is telling the truth even though it seems overtly foolish on it's face to do so. I just don't think he needs to lie about anything, so he doesn't. Could Sayid be any hotter? I doubt it. Looks like all hell's breaking loose next week. Mmmmm...hell...

South Park was hilarious, even if it made fun of my past obsession with Loose Change documentary. I'm pretty sure I've made all those points at some high time or another. But George L on Colbert is one of the funniest things that ever happened. The whole green screen dealie was awesome. Uh oh, George is lightsabering Stephen right now. uterdic must be...well, he's probably enjoying it very much.
However, I'm still bummed that Stephen didn't pick my future husband, H, as his new black friend. Then he could be my white friend-in-law, which would be sweet.
Oops, forgot to record South Park. Oh well, it'll be on six or eight more times by next week.

Gotta go to bed early since I'm seeing my Life Coach tomorrow after EMDR.

Some jerkass keeps buzzing my door. I'm sure as hell not answering the door at midnight when I'm not expecting anyone. Duh! Oh good, someone let whoever it was in. There seems to be some uncomfortable shenanegans in this building on a fairly regular basis.
Whoops, my bad. It was actually an ambulance. Yikes! We had a fire truck last week and some non descript cops in black T shirts. Also, our hallway has reeked for several days. At first I thought it was garbage from the people who moved out. Then I joked that it might be a body. Now I think it might actually be a body. I'd really like to know what's going on, but I don't want to stick my head out long enough to ask.
Sounds like they are talking to my suspicious neighbors again. Man...I want no part of any of that, for serious.

Had a decent Group tonight. I wasn't in the mood to talk and then I just started blabbing like crazy and ended up feeling a lot better. I still hate Group though. Really.

Oh, apparently they're trying to get into the suspicious apartment, which may be where the horrible whiff is coming from. There are some cute little kids in the apartment, so I hope they're okay. Damn, I'm sure this sounds very selfish of me, but I wish we lived somewhere nicer and quieter--like Kankakee, IL. My neighbor just asked if she could take some of her stuff...and now everyone is leaving apparently. Geez, I hope no one asks me anything.