Not Now...

      Things are finally settling down...temporarily. My brother wants to pack up and move again right after winter. I can't help but be mad at him, because he's taking off with or without us, and since we can't afford shit without him, we have no choice! So thanks to him we're probably moving again in January or whatever; I don't even know why I bothered to unpack and set up my room.
      Thing is, we always do what he wants. He and Mom are like buds, even though he scorns her behind her back for drinking too much. He always gets his way and he's a cold, confident pain in the ass. I don't want to fucking move so Goddamn soon; I'm just getting comfortable.

[Untitled]

      I got a new mouse last night. The cord is dreadfully short, and sits on top of glorious Wire Hill, so it constantly does the opposite of what I want it to. I miss my laptop and its touchpad.
      Still lots of snow. The car's frozen on the driveway, so we're still stuck inside. The power's gone out. Nobody delivers pizza or anything...my brother's birthday was a bust. (Mine was great; I had the best pizza on the planet and lava cake, too.)
      We're moving in just six days...but I think we're going to have Internet there, so I'm on a cloud. Let the packing commence.

House And Home

      I cannot wait to start furnishing the new house!
     That being said, I've been thinking about restarting home school. My last effort was thwarted when I realized they could deduct money off my income if I missed a day, and they could also twist my words in advertising. My effort before that was thwarted when Mom and my teacher collaborated to put me through all the grades and back again.
      This time I would do it at home, by myself. I would not ask for any help. And, with no Internet or even Sims to distract me, I could focus all my energy on it. God knows I need a break from writing my books.
      I could put my desk beneath my window, which I could actually open. The light is right there, so it's perfect. The more I think about it, the more excited I get! This could actually be fun. I'm doing math all the time anyway; I might as well challenge myself with new things like division, subtraction, multiplication, and geo-metry...

I Didn't Know What To Call My Blog, So I Called It This

      Do I regret my last journal entry? Kind of. I know my family's awesome, but I also know there's truth in what I said. I love them dearly - they annoy me. Really, it's a typical family situation.
      I cannot believe it's only 6:30. PM! Good grief, I think I'm ready for bed. I don't know what good it'll do, but I think I've reached a good Bedtime moment. My head is lolling, my eyes are burning, and I really don't have much else to do. Except stretch, yawn, change, and give in to fatigue. That sounds good...
      I also have this overwhelming urge to eat chocolate and cry. I've got this sensation that something absolutely horrible is right around the corner.

I Need To Rant

      I just need to get a few things off my chest. The punch line is that yesterday, the truth came out and it was revealed that I need my brother's permission to order a pizza with my money. I need his permission to start paying for Internet service with my money.
      I understand cracking down when it comes to a tight budget. I understand some things have to be changed. But financially, we're okay right now; and all I wanted was an $8 lasagna. I damn sure don't need his permission to feed myself. Especially since he buys crap at the side of the road, and posters, and things that do not benefit him or anyone else. And if Mom and he can spend over $100 on cigarettes and tobacco each month with food money, then I can spend eight pathetic dollars on food with tobacco money. Sounds like a fair trade, don't you think?
      I'm not a child. And I'm damn sure not his.
      I'm sick of him thinking he's my fatherly figure since I don't have one anymore, and I'm sick of both of them running my life - arguing with everything I say - making everything my fault - creating all these hidden rules - metaphorically stabbing me in the back at every turn - ruining every single day I'm forced to live through.
      They mock me when I stutter. They laugh; they think it's funny. They play all the songs I hate until I leave the room, they say they won't do it again, and then they do it again. They find ways to blame me for my insomnia, my depression. They insult me and they invade my space.
      Our new house is going to be directly in front of a bus stop. I'm already tempted to disappear. I have been tempted for a long time, but knowing I don't have to walk far anymore fills me with a sense of bravado. At the very least I want to leave for the majority of the day without telling anyone, and just think about what I'm doing with my life.

Early Morning Rambles

      Just thirteen days until my birthday! Well, thirteen days and nineteen hours. I hope we're not moving on that day.
      I can't believe I've only had 23 birthdays so far. Seems I spend 364 days waiting for the sixth of December, and then it's gone and I'm wondering why I was so impatient. Especially since I don't have friends, or parties anymore. I just get older and sometimes it's the worst day of my life. My last birthday, I was looking forward to making my own cake, and then it was done for me. All my plans were thrown out the window, and my family argued with everything I said. It was like every other day of my life. And here I am, looking forward to it again. I may be getting older, but I'm not learning.
      I don't even know why I waste 364 days a year waiting for that one day. It's not like I even consider my birthday to be a 24-hour occasion. I was born at 8:37 AM. So, in my way of thinking, my birthday hasn't begun at 8:36, and at 8:38 it's over. So in truth I only have sixty seconds to eat cake and feel special, and that doesn't happen anymore. It used to. Every time I learned some-thing, I felt good about myself. I felt good when I spoke to a neigh-bor, or made a new friend. I guess the last time I really felt good about myself was when, with the help of my sister, we fired our godmother for being a bitch.
      But at least I still have the memory. Maybe I should hire her back, and fire her again on my birthday so I'll have a birthday ann-iversary. I could call it a birthary. Or a birthiversary. I don't know which one I like better!

Ha!

      I just saw an ad blooper! It says that over fifty million people play Family Farm, but beneath it says, "500,000 people play this". Not even one million, and they say over fifty. How embarrassing that must be! That person needs to go back to school and learn how to count.

The Serial Series

      Well, I had a lousy night. First I dreamed that my current house had two floors, and was on a farmland, and this guy drove by our window pointing a gun at me. I wake up, realize I'm wake, and fall blissfully back into sleep - and dream the same guy points the same gun through the windshield.
      In both dreams there were sirens. In the first dream he shot me through each kidney, then killed all my loved ones and made me watch while I died a slow, painful, bloody death. In the second dream I recognized him as the bad guy from my first dream.
      Honestly, I'm hesitant to go anywhere now. Especially when I hear sirens. I'm fine watching scary movies before bed, but last night I went out for a late drive and I was totally freaked out. You probably think it's silly to be afraid because I had a dream, but I actually have a history of my dreams coming true.
      Unfortunately I haven't become a millionaire or discovered I could fly.
      Yet.

...

      So.
      Recently we looked at a house...I think it was perfect for us. Now my brother has doubts about it, and he's kind of the alpha dog in this house. When he speaks, Mom listens, and what I think or feel or say gets overlooked.
      He's worried that after two months, the utilities cost will increase. So based on a fear which might not come true, they might decide to not take the one house we have a chance with. And it sucks, because I adored that house. I think of it as home already, and that never happened here. I thought of this place as "a house".
      But what sucks the most is that everything he said makes sense.
      And even if we did move into an affordable place, he might opt out on cable. No Internet. No deviantART, no Facebook, no Internet Checkers, none of it. My computer would just be good for writing books I can't publish online. And that sucks, too, because I'm on a roll with Big Bang Theory fanfics. People love them! That's never happened.
      I wish we could just take the chance. I wish every decision wasn't his call. But since it is, we won't. We'll stay right here until late November, and he'll bitch and moan that it wasn't what he wanted.
      And I'm guessing we'll wind up in some crappy, lowest-level apartment I'll hate more than this place. We'll have neighbors above us and on each side of us and it'll be noisy, disgusting and utter hell. And probably cold as ****, too.
      So, hey, we have that to look forward to.

WTF...

      I took a nap earlier and had one of the weirdest dreams. I guess it's because I looked at the cover image for a movie called Treasure Planet, and the picture featured a flying ship; but I dreamed that these three to five animated little people were flying after this spaceship, which had a killed and gutted dolphin strapped to the top, and it flapped along as this spaceship flew over the cliffy waterfalls of Brave and over the water of Rhubarb Island, going so low and so fast that water flew up underneath and almost capsized a little sailboat. That might have been from Big Hero 6. Anyway, these characters are briefly shown at a headfirst angle, flying, turning and doing spins in the air; and this one character's irises disappear and her eyes are only whites, until she straightens out, and then her eyes do that creepy rolling thing you see with dizzy emoticons. This other character lands on a little islet attached to Rhubarb Island, and takes off this weird bandana thing (to a sound effect), and he looks around and he's got these intense sapphire eyes. These characters all land near one another and they watch this weird ship fly away with that poor dolphin flapping like a wind-sock.
      Meanwhile I'm down below, using my Power Berry or whatever it's called to swim very fast around the islets, and sometimes I smash boxes or vases to get the rewards before jumping back in the water. Well, there's this big fucking swan sitting there; of course there are no swans in the game because they're not exactly seen as vicious monsters, but I jump off this islet, go over half the distance and make a big splash next to this feeding swan. And I yell "Sorry!" as I run up the bridge, which is baffling because the character's don't talk; they just get a speech bubble when you send a message. Anyway, the swan doesn't belong, the ship doesn't belong, and the flapping dolphin kite damn sure doesn't belong; but I'm watching these people and this ship and this poor sea creature fly all over the fucking place; meanwhile The Raiders March is playing in the background. Thanks a lot, BBT.
      So it was pretty strange, but I'm not complaining. I'm actually surprised; I didn't think my mind was that messed up. I'm im-pressed.
      And a little sad for the dolphin.

PMO

      So many times I've been online, people have asked me the one question that makes me want to sink my fingernails into my eye sockets, grab a handful of jelly, and pull.
      "Are you single? Are you single? Are you single?"
      Yes. I am. What about it? Are you making plans in your pint-sized head? Do you think I want somebody so desperate that they ask me online without even meeting me first? People like this 455h013 really p155 me off. "Will you be my gf?" Umm, no. A.), because you're desperate enough to ask me online; B.), I don't like people, C.), you use Internet slang, and D.), I don't think I like men.
      This game is...a game. It's not a dating site. It's called Friendbase, not Get2SecondBase. What kind of person do you think I am? I'm not a whore, and I'm not giving it away to just anyone who asks me. I don't even know if I'd give it away to The One. Not like I believe in The One, anyway. What a load of sh1t.
      From now on when people call me baby, or hottie, or sexy, I'm going to say "Hello and don't call me that." When they ask me if I'm single I'm going to lie and say no. Where do they get the fukking nerve? Like I'm really going to swoon at some pathetic attempt to meet me in a dark alleyway at night.

A Disappointing Endeavor

      I went to two game stores today in search of The Sims 2 Family Fun Stuff. If I hadn't bought chicken strips and a milkshake, I would have come home empty-handed. Both stores only had two Sims games available - Sims 4, and a Sims 4 expansion. I considered buying it...but it wasn't what I wanted.
      So, here I sit. I guess it's time to check on the reviews for my story, and see where I can take it next. I'm actually working on three...Two of them are giving me no end of trouble; I've pretty much given up on one of them. The other book...It's at a surprising moment, but it could be worse. I think.

Sorry - Time To Vent

      I just got up from a six-hour nap, during which I actually slept, finally. I was able to fall asleep twice. The reason I'm over the moon about that is because I got zero sleep at all last night. I was too anxious for payday...which didn't even happen.
      I prepared for this day. I did everything, which almost never happens because I'm constantly at war with myself over how I should spend my time. For once I did all I was supposed to do, and I did it right. And of course, I got no sleep, so I just wanted to get this day over with. Sounds reasonable, doesn't it? But wait! Last week I spent every dime on my $300 safety net savings on gro-ceries. Yet, today, when we were supposed to go shopping in full, she couldn't even be bothered to think of me long enough to pick up a lousy bottle of applesauce, or a single pack of Boost, to get me through the day. (No teeth, if you're not familiar with my blogs.) She and Brother aren't stressed to the hilt, because they can eat whatever they like. I, on the other hand, cannot; and I was at least hoping to get into the store myself. Want to know why I didn't? Because We don't need to. No, you don't need to. I'm too tired. Stop complaining, at least you slept!
      I am just so pissed. I have been since, oh, 9AM? This isn't the first time payday was pushed off to the side at a time when we could afford the food, and could not afford to wait to buy it.
      I think tomorrow I'm not going to bother going out. But I need your help. Well, I needed yours today. I was ready to go, I got all my shyt done, and once again you threw a monkey wrench into Brother's and my plans to, you know, survive? I'm doing everything I can to keep you alive. If that were true, would I be venting right now? No, I'd be eating right now.
      Am I mad about nothing? Am I overreacting? How can you still be venting on this from 9AM? Well, why don't you talk to me tom-orrow at 7:30PM and tell me if you're still mad? You're hurting all three of us! Uh, no, I'm not; you're the one who takes the money and f-cks off!

While The Going's Good

      Things here are not bad at all! I'm actually really happy today (and to think, I didn't get enough sleep!). My book is finally at a point where it should've been in 2014 (which isn't to say I hate every other sentence, because I've had a blast writing this series); and it's really fun and funny. And I finally know what I want to buy: Sims 2 Family Fun Stuff! It's got cute princess hairstyles for chil-dren. Finally, I will be able to make a realistic royal family.
      My computer probably requires a complete reinstall, so if ever I do find the game, it couldn't come at a better time. I really hope deleting everything will be worth it! And if I saved my Life Stor-ies game progress to a disk correctly, then I'll finally be in the Sim-nerd sweet spot of trying to choose between two games.
      I do hope it works. I've been working at this family for years.....
      Even if it doesn't, I suppose a fresh start is a good thing, too. I've read an article online (just now, actually) where this person walked into a store and found Sims 2 and all of its expansions for two dollars. Not sure where that store is, unfortunately; most likely nowhere near me.
      My Facebook game is going great, too! I decided instead of buying a lockbox key every time I have collected just enough coins, I would simply save and save and save, until their big sale in June! I can't wait.
      God, I'm such a nerd. Hopefully you haven't died of boredom reading this. I'd write about something else, but...you know.

Frozen Hell

      Today was the open house event, and oh my God was it a disaster. Of course I got zero sleep; at around 4-ish I finally gave up and watched a movie with only five hours to go before my alarm clock would go off...then crawled into bed and actually managed to fall asleep for half an hour. Naturally, as I always do, I woke up long before my alarm clock went, and haven't been back to sleep since.
      After doing some housework the family and I trekked off through a windy rain to go sit at Mom's boyfriend's house. It was ice cold. I washed my hands with straight hot water and froze my hands in the process. The bar soap doesn't lather at all, so I had to use a mix of (cold) water and hand sanitizer. I couldn't even eat the spaghetti, which felt like I was chewing on wood; we heard a gunshot; and the news repeated itself a billion times before Mom broke the "rule" of not touching the remote control. When Boy-friend arrives, he ruffles my hair - and grabs my shoulders and tries to pull me against the back of the chair. (He's lucky I didn't saw off his fingers.) Then he takes Mom off to get sauced, leaving my brother and me in that desolation for another two hours of hell. We suffered through Counting Cars and two hours of American Pickers. My sweater, jacket, and a blanket were not enough to warm me up; I couldn't feel my fingers or my toes. When they get back he doesn't wash his hands after using the washroom!
      Long story short, it was cooler outside than in, and when we come home...we see that the guests dragged in mud and leaves and dirtied the carpet. My brother finally just had his breakfast a few moments ago. We were all very crabby, we argued and yelled and snapped at one another, and tomorrow we have to repeat the process. Let me assure you, I'm bringing all my winter gear and I'm going to buy fast food beforehand. And maybe instead of suffering through the tedium of television, we can actually indulge ourselves with conversation. Of course, if we do that we'll inevitably get on my brother's favorite topic; farts: frequency, smell, and loudness. So maybe we should just shut up and watch TV.
      Ooh, I just got an idea. I'll eat my food outside and listen to my music. Yeah, that sounds good. Cold and miserable, but at least I'll be relatively alone.

Happy Thanksgiving, Indeed

      Well, I'm happy! Turns out I can not only eat pizza, which I discovered a few nights ago, but I can also eat Thanksgiving dinner. I just pigged out on turkey, potatoes, and a veggie-filled stuffing. I don't feel like I'm starving anymore! And I started my day with a smoothie for breakfast.
      Now I'm going to go watch some Toy Story, and later on I guess I'll have some ice cream. Not a bad day, after all.

Sigh...Depressed Late-Night Ramblings

      If we have anything in common, it's probably that we're piss-ass broke. Despite that, my life was fairly easy. The stress of being poor was of course overwhelming, but I knew that come payday, things would get better...
      Now that I'm poor and toothless, it's different. Every single day I'm waiting for more money, anxious to buy more foods. Every single day I know my family will be okay until more money comes in, but for me it doesn't make a difference when it gets here or not. It'll run out too fast. It always does.
      My mom spoke of my issue recently with a little old lady who had dentures. This lady is ninety-something, and she wanted me to go do my denture fitting. Then she recalled her own and it made her nauseated just to think about it. Apparently during these pro-cedures, everyone gets queasy.
      Do I wish I still had my teeth? Well...sometimes. No pizza, no burgers, no Subway, no KFC. But I feel great. I'm just hungry. These soft foods aren't enough. Or if they are, I don't have a sufficient supply. For twenty-two years I felt like I would starve to death moments after eating a big meal, but at least I knew I could eat anything I could afford. Now I'm making myself sick with a "buffet" of tuna, smoothies and pudding, and that's only on the good days. To make matters worse the damn welfare office denied me a food grant.
      It probably seems a simple solution to you. Do the procedure. Get teeth. Vomit as much as you have to and then it's over - but it's really not. You have to do the procedure again and again to make the slightest adjustment, or replace them entirely. After all that, they might not fit. Each time, it costs big money.
      To no avail I've done it four times; I've gagged enough.
      I suppose I could use my savings...but I'll never see this much money in my pocket again, not if I'm always using it up. You know, life shouldn't be this hard. Not for anyone. Life shouldn't be so greedy that countless people suffer. Those who make it happen should reassess what the word humanity means to them. It shouldn't be this damn difficult to try and have a little fun money. If the world has been turning for millions of years, and the average human dies in their seventies if they're not murdered or in an accident, if you really think about it death is right around the cor-ner. So can't we help one another while we're still here? Do we really have to suck so much?

At Least We Made It This Far

      Sooo...
      My mother and I went out today. Looked at some fish, some birds, found an inauthentic tank decoration that felt real (the tank wasn't in a tank, so I don't know if it was a tank decoration or a tank tank decoration), she bought me a new book for an old collection, and now our house is for sale. Well, fine. I never liked this place. Too many damn problems; good riddance.
      I'm just worried about what will happen when we move. We've lived together for financial reasons, and this house was the most affordable. Probably because it's a shithole, but we made it work.
      I hope when we do move, we're not stuck in something like this. And I hope my bedroom window has a screen.
      But, at least we've lived here six years and a few days. It's the longest I've lived in a house. I just realized that! So I guess the only reason I feel any remorse about moving is because we won't make it to a decade.
      Oh well...What else is new?

Reminder

--
Easiest way to add music to your MP3

 

 

 

http://www.youtube-mp3.org/

 

Step 1: Copy a YouTube URL.
Step 2: Paste URL into the script bar above Convert Video.
Step 3: Click Convert Video.
Step 4: A window will pop up. Click Save.
Step 5: AUDIO FILES! Plug in your MP3 player.
Step 6: The files might take a moment to appear. When they do, they'll be in My Documents in the Downloads tab.
Step 7: Click and drag the MP3 files onto Removable Disk (I:)
Step 8: DONE!

 

(I don't know if this needs to be said, but the little advertisement window won't get the job done.)

Wake Me When Pain Has A Cure

      No amount of medicine seems to be enough anymore. I think this is how a broken back must feel. Sitting is hell, standing is hell. I just want to crawl into bed and stay there until I can move without screaming. Here I am looking forward to my next period, because only when I'm menstruating am I not in pain.
      I had a thought today: Sims Pet Stories hasn't been installed for years, it might work. But I quickly threw that thought away. I would have to keep it open forever just to play the damned thing more than once, and I learned something recently; I like shutting my computer off at night. Just the night before last, I learned what silence is.
      Anyway, going now to have a soft, mushy pizza made from canned ham and blenderized pineapple. Later.

Weird Thoughts

      I don't believe I'm psycho. I don't need medications to think rationally. But I have been wondering some unusual things lately... like: How does an octopus have sex? One alone has eight arms; imagine two octopi all tangled up in a mess of sixteen arms. They have to put them somewhere to get the job done. What about electric eels and anglerfish? How do they bump uglies without killing each other? What about turtles? Do the shells stay on, or do they take 'em off during sex, like a man and his socks?
      I've never literally seen any creature literally fashion the beast with two backs, but I'm pretty sure their genitalia is adjacent to their...frontals. I don't think humping would impregnate the female. And do animals even know what the genitalia means? If flies have so little mental capacity that they continually bump into the same wall, day after day, how do they know they're not getting into a same-sex mating ritual? Do they mate for life? And if they do, how do they know which fly is their mate?
      So many questions...But I'm too afraid to Google them...

...

      I'm too damn tired and nauseated to sleep. Feels like my eyes are on fire. Still. You know, that sensation has never gone away - I've always been unbelievably exhausted. When sleeping pills give you energy and chocolate drains you, it really feels like you have no other option but to say fuck all and go to bed whenever you damn well please. Here I sit, 3:45 AM, knowing full well I won't ever have the perfect routine...which is just fine with me. Not much to look forward to anyway.
      Yesterday the family ordered pizza. I put mine through the blender, but it took out all the enjoyment of having takeout. It was just spiced mush that tasted no better than regular mush. I'll stick with yogurt and Boost and pudding. I'm getting my belly back, but I think I might buy a gym pass instead of a new computer and do something good for myself. (I considered using the money to get my book published, but I'm told it costs over three grand).
      I've been nauseated a lot lately...Keep getting bruises I can't explain. There's even a spot of blood on my pillow. No idea why. The good news is, it looks old. I guess for tonight I'll just flip the damn thing and change my bedding tomorrow. And I'll probably look up the symptoms for inexplicable bruising.
      Tomorrow. I have the sudden urge to go back to bed.
      Wonder why that is. Yawwwnnnn...

Hrm...

      I had an interesting day. I'll skip all the stuff that doesn't matter and get to the point. I went out to see an old friend, and she was such a hermit. She didn't come out and say hi until fifteen minutes after finding out I was there, and then she scuttled back to her room. Eventually she came out, spoke to me for five minutes, then went into the pool and didn't even notice when I left.
      I know I qualify as a guest, and therefore maybe someone she wants to avoid, but I was an old friend of hers and I thought she would be more sociable. She likes to be in her room a lot, like me, but when I get company I go out there and be with them. When my aunts came, we did everything together except our bowel move-ments. We went shopping, we went to restaurants, we gabbed and we played games. I don't demand attention like a prissy little bitch, but I thought we would talk. That's why we had planned this visit.
      Whatever. I'm gonna go have a smoothie.

I'm Unhappy!

      I'm not having a good...two months. I had some good times, but it's the nerd in me who's suffering. She ain't having no fun. First, my Sims Life Stories suddenly becomes incompatible after five fucking years. Now my Sims 2 is incompatible as well. And I've already lost Sims 2 about a dozen times, but the last two times really hurt.
      And Life Stories...I can't even imagine never playing my current families again. Never playing with Laura, and Allison, and Amy, and...all the others...There are sooo many of them. Trina Wong became an adult and had about nineteen kids with Sullivan Thayer, and each one had the face of an angel. I think if I do need to get a complete reinstall and lose all my amazing work, I'm just going to play with those two. They were all so darling.
      The poor nerd in me is so miserable...I think we need chocolate now. She and I will be in the kitchen. See ya.
      PS. Yes, I really am bitching about fake people. They were like the only friends I've had in my room since 2005. I spent the last five years of my life working on this incredible family, and it was perfect. Their names suited their faces. Two of their houses were amazingly glorious, and I made them from scratch. There were about 1000 Sims, and I'm not talking alive and dead. No. I'm talking alive, period. 98% of the neighborhood was my own doing. Yes, I'm bitching. The nerd in you would, too. Brian Seavey married and had at least four kids - Kendra, Patrick, Ramona, and Samuel. And they were so great. Sims Life Stories, Sims 2, Need For Speed World - not even my DVDs will work anymore! My computer's only good for Facebook and writing. I don't know if I should buy a DVD player or save up for a new computer. The good news is, I suddenly feel into money. I have thirty on me, and I can save seventy more this month. That's a great head start to saving...I guess I'll save up for a computer. It'll have a DVD player included; two birds with one stone, right? Just seems like everything I love goes away...If I get banned from my Facebook game, again, I'm gonna be super pissed.

Ah, SHIT!

      So, I couldn't even finish my morning yogurt before my family was yelling at me for something I couldn't even control (sleeping in just a little, because I had woken up at 5am to the most pain I've ever felt in every damn joint in my entire friggin body, thanks for the concern).
      They know I'm going through some problems, and I'm not saying I should get the royal treatment because I'm such a bitch, but it would be nice if they acknowledged that I thought I was going to friggin die.
      And, they really worried me. Want to know the Good morning I got? "Hey, so, you ready for some bad news?" Here I am thinking my sister or my brother or his wife is dead or some damn thing - no, people are coming over because they love us and share our DNA.
      I am just so pissed right now. It is fucking not fucking going to fucking be a fucking good fucking day. Fuck.

Blog Post Number Whatever (Again)

      For two days now I've been exceptionally clumsy, walking into anything and everything whether it's in my way or not. But while my feet have been bumping into stuff, my mind has been going over stuff. I hear there's a Pocahontas movie where so-and-so portrays the character without the cheap doodle-book drawing type anim-ation of 1990s-Disney. So why don't they have the great Zhang Ziyi portray Mulan?
      I mean, come on. That would be fantastic.

Blither, Blather

      I've been dealing with my school slash workplace since May, and dealing with their sh*t, but finally on the eighth I'll be starting my school slash work program. I've been looking forward to it since before I got enrolled, because I wanted to change my future. But now that it's here I'm not nearly as excited. I'm scared. I'll still go through with it; at least I'll try my damnedest until they screw up one too many times. I registered with my own name, signed my own name on all the papers, told the dumbasses my name, and still they call me Emily. Friggin idiots.
      I'm six pounds away from breaking my highest weight record. Guess I better go for more walks and lay off the chocolate. It's just been so nice to eat something that isn't totally liquid. And, well, the dentists forgot to pull my sweet tooth. (I know, I know, it's only a figure of speech...blah, blah, blah.) The part that helps me remain semi-confident is that our scale is unpredictable; first it says I've gained thirty pounds in the past two days, then it says I've lost forty, both of which I would have noticed. (Plus I like to think there's more to be than somebody's opinion.)
      My book was going fantastic; then I fukked it up again. My other stories are all at a standstill, so I guess it's time to delete where it all went wrong. I told some of my friends I was going to work on a fantastic art project and now it's like, "I can't do this. I'm not nearly qualified enough." So I have to log on and tell them, nope, it ain't happening.
      Heard some great music nobody will tell me the names of. Dealing with a spider slash flea infestation (thanks, cuz). Can't make any more CDs, and oh yeah, the greatest Sims family ever made in the history of Sims is more than likely at risk to be deleted, because after five fukking years (and seven months) of creating perfection, suddenly the program's incompatible. After five years. What the fuk. So I'm grouchy; I have been for - what do you know? - forever. Apparently music and chocolate is - what do you know? - not medicinal.
      The good news is I am head over heels in love with icy, strawberries-and-blueberries smoothies. Oh, and garlic-potato-and-some-other-things soup. I'm still addicted to gaming, but at least they're a distraction from my other addictions. All in all, things here could be both worse, and better. I don't even know which side of the abacus is winning.
      I'm gonna go now. It's time for another evening of predictable monotony - soup, and Big Bang reruns. 'Bye.

I Hate This Feeling

      Today wasn't bad. Went out, got some nice pictures. Except now I'm overwhelmed with this crushing sensation that something horrible and heartbreaking is going to happen. Soon. I can't shake it off and I feel totally alone. I just want to go to bed and cry.

Sigh...

      I'm going to the denturist today. I really hope I don't vomit on the guy. Not only because it would be gross for him, but because it would be gross and embarrassing for me - and I'd have to try again. I've been so nervous I've been watching the Ice Age series since the early morning of the 17th. First, pretty lame; second, a bit better; third, best one yet; fourth, not crazy about it. Now they have two new ones. The Egg-scapade whatever is better than the Collision Course one, of which I could only watch five minutes before clicking away. I knew from the moment I first read the Wikipedia des-cription last year it was going to suck; and boy, was I right. Maybe it's better in high quality, but I have a strong feeling it'll be the worst in the series.
      Well, I only have about an hour before I have to go and puke all over the nice guy who's trying to help me; so if you'll excuse me, I need to comb out my wet mop of hair and read another chapter of Divine By Mistake. And hopefully, the doctor will see my stitches (and the nasty red, and white, spots) and say, nope, we can't do this today.
      Anyway, I could get used to eating nothing but chocolate-flavored things.

      Addendum: Due to the severe sensitivity of my gums, the molding has been postponed. Woohoo!

Could Be Better

      I was doing well. Now I don't even care anymore if I'm alive tomorrow. My life has become all about Tylenol pudding, saltwater rinses, banana-vomit medicine, and more Tylenol pudding. My gums are uneven, dark, and held together with stitches; and here are my loved ones, insisting I eat blueberry muffins. My brother said he would try to do a number on them, so I don't have the temptation, but they're thinking of what I want, not what I need.
      It doesn't even matter if I'm asleep or awake. AM and PM are the same; boring and painful. I want to sleep, I'm tired, but I can't, because I hurt too much. I can feel my heartbeat in my gums. I don't think it's a good idea to eat mashed potatoes, but a muffin taller than my fist...Impossible. They want to tell me when I'm ready to eat, and it doesn't work like that. I haven't even washed my hair yet, because bending over is a fresh hell; all the blood rushes to my head and makes my gums hurt even more. Maybe I'll do it tonight, maybe not, one way or another I care very little.
      Not even music has been lifting my spirits. It only makes me aware of exactly how long the song is. How many minutes, how many seconds. I drift in and out of consciousness in a hot, hot, hot room, wondering why I'm sweating with my fan turned on and pointed at me; and then I get up and realize that sometime during my medicated sleep, my mother came in and turned my fan away from me, leaving me to sweat to death. She says it's bad for me, but what's worse is melting into my sheets.
      I can't speak properly, either. I keep slurring my words like a drunk. Words that have an S, a D, an SH, or a CH in any place-ment just don't want to come out. It's humiliating. I thought I had a lisp before; now I drool, too, like a damn St. Bernard. It's been coming slower and slower. I guess the worst part, worse even than the pain, is that they keep telling me I'm puffy, so I run to the mirror and see...nothing. Nothing at all. Just my face, looking the same way it always looks. I swelled up awhile ago, and every time they tell me I'm swollen, it brings that nightmare back to life. But I'm not swollen. This is just the way I look. And I've been looking in the mirror on and off for my whole life; I think I know the curves of my own face.
      My laughing face is the same as my serious face. When I'm laughing, it looks like I'm having a panic attack; so they ask if I'm okay. I just want to scream. And I sure don't want to talk. I want to learn sign language. I want to parachute. I want to run through the cold tide barefoot. I want to stand on a cliff, looking down at the storm clouds as I scream and scream and scream, until there's nothing more to let out. And I want to sleep, until I wake up com-pletely healed and totally ready for my dentures.
      And I want to talk to my friend. He's going through surgery stuff, too. I miss his positive attitude. I miss mine, too. This whole thing...better be worth it all.

...

      The fifth was a good day. My aunt, two cousins, and two second cousins came by; this time we had weeks to prepare. We laughed a lot and played games until late. I now know how to play the Victorian game, Old Maid; but since there were children involved, we didn't drink alcohol. (Well, Mom did. Thankfully it didn't mess with her too much.) I was even on a roll, telling jokes and being entertaining. When my brother lost the round of Old Maid, that's what I nicknamed him. I might not have, if he hadn't proclaimed, "I'm the old maid!"
      I lost both matches of Sorry, one round of war, and I won all Old Maids. It was beautiful revenge.
      Now I'm sitting here, stressed to the bone; wishing the good times could last...We have to get up much too soon to go shopping for soft food and Boost, in preparation of my surgery tomorrow. I tried to back out, but yet again they threatened to put me in a home. I think after I've recovered from my surgery I'll ship on out of here. I see no other way to prove to them that I don't need them fussing over me if I'm not heavily medicated. Yes, yes, I get lost and I'm scared of that; but who isn't? I at least know how to ask for directions, and if a sixteen-year-old, a minor, can do it, then I don't see why I need to put up with this. I intend on getting a job and taking care of myself; and if I really strike gold, then I can still help them keep a roof over their heads and a car in their driveway.
      I know I'm not a strong speaker. But I have other strengths. I don't see why I can't make it, if others can.
      The molding is the biggest reason I fear tomorrow. You have no idea what it's like. Allow me to aid you with that. You're instructed to open your mouth as wide as you can, and the denturist puts this fat, round, colored gob into your mouth and it tastes like vomit, and it's about half the size of your fist. And as you sit there, squeezing the arm rests and try to keep your lunch down, you bite the little ball of barf, and it molds itself over your teeth and into every gap and crevice in your mouth. The doctor is panicking, because you're gagging and there's a good chance you'll vomit; and finally he can't take it anymore and takes it out of your mouth, leaving behind little balls of vomit-tasting gob all over your tongue. You rush to the sink to rinse, feeling like a damn coward as he tells you, "We'll try this again. How's later today?"
      That's how mine always works. So, to try and do us all a favor, I'm going to request they do the molding while I'm sedated.
      Know what the worst part is? All this worrying makes sleep impossible. I'm definitely tired enough, but I don't even want to go to bed. I want to stay awake until the seventh, and try to enjoy myself.
      A long, long, long, long, long time ago, I bought a reddish-purple piece of silk. It's fairly big, and I have a reddish-purple dress with no sleeves. I hate showing my arms, and finally I requested we go to a seamstress and attach this silk to fashion sleeves. I love this dress. It's got a tapered waist, which makes me look about thirty pounds lighter; and when I wear it I feel...gorgeous, and strong. It's such an amazing feeling that it inspires me to work out. I don't know why I haven't been doing it religiously; it does feel pretty good. I think tonight I'm going to work out like I've never worked out before - put in my newly charged MP3, and don't stop until I'm sweating and I've heard everything. It might serve as a distraction, although lately not even listening to my favorites can really take my mind off my surgery. Talking about it sure doesn't do much good; according to my mother, brother, and my aunt I'm going to be "extremely sore", which is definitely not what I wanted to hear.
      But, I've vomited before. Though it's unpleasant and disgusting, I'm pretty sure the denturist provides mouthwash and such. I'll recover. I always do.
      Before I go begin my workout, I just want to stall for one moment more. I've been researching my ancestors, and while I only accomplished running in the same circles as I have been for over a decade, I did rediscover a quote from one of my possible ancestors. I couldn't really find the page to get the words exactly correct, but what he basically said is, "There is so much crap art out there. And what's the point of being an amateur artist?"
      That quote has never left my mind; and sadly, it inspires me to delete all my drawings, new and old, off of deviantART. It's always plain and justifiably unappreciated. I think I'll stick to what I do best - writing poetry, and uploading pictures my mom and brother take and allow me to upload. I'll still be a member, and I'll still have almost everything; but the pictures I drew that I hate so much... Nobody cares for them, not even me. Why should I keep them?
      Hell, even my poetry and photography go unappreciated. Truth be told I don't know why I didn't delete my account. I guess because I've had it for more than half a decade...I tend to get sentimental.
      Okay! That's enough stalling for me. I've spent about 13 interspersed years behind my computer screen. Pathetic, right? Time to work out. Or pass out trying. I'm not obese; I'm just not fit. I want to change that. Again, if anybody can do it, so can I.
      Addendum: Whoa! Sorry this is so long. If you've made it to the end, thank you so so much for sticking around!

EEEK!!

      It worked! It really worked! The Bump is still cool. On May 30th, I posted a discussion on a Microsoft page, and today I finally said, "Bump!" and it finally, really, ACTUALLY triggered a response. I'm so thrilled! Sure, he shot the best idea I've ever had into the dirt, but I was cordial in my response and I really have high hopes for this idea. I think it's the best thing I ever said!

The Logic Of Things

      I'm one of the outnumbered people on this planet who thinks that there's an explanation  for everything, and everything should make sense. I saw a video on YouTube last night, about "strange events" occurring in different places around the globe. A bike, and then a car, appearing out of nowhere. A man running faster than the speed of light to save another man from getting hit. The video became very popular, and while plenty of people believed they happened or at least were or will be possible, most of them were skeptical of the whole thing, like me. One YouTube member even proved that at least one of the clips was actually a scene from a Japanese game. Another clip showed two men who looked alike donning the same tattoo on the same arm. I hinted it could have been twin brothers who wanted to mess with their minds, while other people continued to rant on about time travel. Don't get me wrong, I love science and how important it is, but come on.
      Another clip showed a man walking through a door, while the date on the security camera changed to a few years later. The homeless man began to freak out. Do I believe that's fake, too? You better believe it, but it's one hell of a mindfuck. Think I'll show it to my mom when she's had a few.
      But don't get me wrong. Science was my favorite subject in school, and it was the one where my grades suffered least. I just don't think we're quite there yet. However close they might be, to actually inventing time travel; I don't think they'd let anybody experiment with it. And honestly, I don't know if I would. Like I said, everything happens for a reason; I'd hate to alter the timeline and fuck something up. Maybe something important to me.
      Anyway, I have to go get ready for another appointment. Finally, I get to tell them at WorkBC that I can't do this course just yet, because of my surgery. And maybe in four, five, weeks - if not then hopefully before I'm 30 - all this shit will be OVER! I'll have a nice smile, forever...No more pain, no more infection, no more swelling...Just a pretty face with no more problems. How great does that sound?

Grimm Indeed - Terrifying Fairytales

      Disney sure does soften up a lot of its adaptions...which is great, when you're a kid. Then you grow up and you Google these things. Yikes! I tried this a few months back. Here...
1.) In the original Cinderella, the other women actually cut their feet in half so the slipper would fit.
2.) In The Frog Prince, she doesn't kiss him - she throws him.
3.) In the original Goose-Girl (I don't know if Disney ever made a movie about this), the talking horse is slaughtered and his head hung over a doorway, because an evil housekeeper feared he would let slip that he overheard her spouting death threats to the princess.
4.) In the original Hansel "Und" Gretel, they're kidnapped by a cannibalistic witch; and after enslaving Gretel, she decides to kill them and eat them. In the end, Gretel pushes the witch into the oven and bolts the door shut.
5.) In the original Rumpelstiltskin, a miller tells the king that his daughter can spin straw into gold, and the king locks her away, threatening to behead her if she fails. When she runs out of pay-ment methods, she promises to give him her first child. When he loses that bargain, he runs away and never comes back. They later rewrote the ending, instead making Rumpelstiltskin fall into a chasm and die.
6.) In the original second part of Sleeping Beauty, the prince's mother is part-ogre, who demands that her children-in-law are cooked; but when her ogre counterpart is revealed, she commits suicide, climbing into a tub filled with vipers. In a different version, Sleeping Beauty's real name is Talia, whom the king rapes, and whom the queen wants to be burned alive. When the king realizes his wife wants to burn Talia, he burns his wife, and some other people who betrayed him as well.
7.) In the original Snow White, the queen is so jealous of her beauty that she hires a huntsman to kill her, and bring back her lungs and liver as proof. He backs down when she pleads for her life, promising to leave and never come back. He instead returns to the queen with the lungs and liver of a boar. When the queen discovers Snow White is still alive, she poses as a peddler and brings her laced bodies, and ties up the laces so tightly that Snow White faints. The queen leaves her there, and the seven dwarves find her and undo the laces, just in time. After Snow White is later am-bushed with a poisoned comb and then a poisoned apple, her life saved each time; the queen gives up all hope and attends her son's wedding, and is horrified to learn Snow White is now her step-daughter. As punishment for her misdeeds, she's forced to step into a pair of red-hot iron shoes, and dance until she dies.
      Grimm enough for you?

Okay, So, F--k My Future

      I've decided it's pointless to get my hopes up...I don't know why I let myself stray from the path of constant disappointment, and allow myself to become vulnerable; but I did. Maybe for the brief-est of moments, I thought I deserved more. Maybe I just wanted more. Either way, I'm surrounded by monkeys; and the only tool they know how to use is me.
      One more screw-up and I'm quitting. I am in no Goddamn mood for bullshit today. I gave them several chances, and I was each time only given a bitter disappointment. They're not teaching me, they're not training me, and they don't know their own work. They're causing me more stress than I need right now. My life is
sh-t-y enough; so f--k it. If they don't give enough of a damn to give a few minutes of their day to help me, I'm wasting my time.
      They get until June 30th to make this right. If they cancel my appointment, or move it to another date without telling me (like today), then that's it. I'm done.

The Short End Of The Stick

      Doesn't it seem that British people always get stuck with iffy roles? By iffy, I mean the roles of characters who might have good intentions, but are ruthless in their methods.
      Think about it. Evelyn Harper, Dean Hardscrabble, Mother Gothel, Fairy Godmother. All these women are perfect examples. Evelyn, mother of two, loves her sons and constantly hints they don't spend enough time together, but she also has the delusion that insulting them will somehow help them warm up to her. Dean Hardscrabble wants only the scariest monsters in her program, to improve the future society of scarers, but it does come off a bit reckless when she insists nobody go into the human world to rescue Mike. Mother Gothel only wants to prevent herself from aging (who doesn't?), but goes to the extreme length of kidnapping a child when she actually had decades (AKA hundreds of years) to bring the flower, roots and all, home. Fairy Godmother wanted her son to marry a princess because she wanted what was best for him, but she also wanted to solidify her standing with royalty because she craved complete power.
      What do these women have in common? They're all British. This is just off the top of my head; I'm sure if I, or you, scoured deeper we could find even more examples. I mean, here's another one - why stick to just females? King Harold gives his daughter a choice, but isn't happy unless she chooses his choice.
      And you know something? I've been a fan of Shrek since 2001. That's fifteen years. It should be plenty of time to mull over the plot, and I never clued in on why exactly things turned out the way they did. Thankfully we have The Theorizer; here's a must-watch: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dj7gEkVjZvU

MeetMe Now Deactivated

      Yep, my old MeetMe is gone, and for the last time. Before I authorized the deletion of my account I specified why exactly I was deleting it: Too many ads. They slow down the site and make it such a hassle to use.
      I had my link memorized. It was www.meetme.com/member/ 50271393. I bet I could say that in my sleep. Aside from ads making the site nearly impossible to tolerate, there were too many idiots and easies. It's such a relief it's gone...Now the only thing I want to get rid of are my damned hiccups.

Rethinking

      Anyone who knows me personally knows I had a friend who turned to the dark side. She posted panty pictures, and apparently she was doing drugs in her early or (mid-) teens. I've also heard a rumor that she got knocked up; but I could have been given mis-information or my source could have seen her twin...We all have one, as I've stated before.
      Anyway, when I saw the indecent picture, I called her mother right away. She had always been moody, and when I say that about somebody you know it's true, because I'm no Mary Poppins. But after that day, she wasn't my friend anymore. She ignored my phone calls, stood me up when we had plans, and apologized about standing me up only to stand me up again. And I know it sounds wrong, but lately I've been thinking I was the bad friend. I know I did the morally correct thing by telling her mother that her eldest was disrespecting herself...But I also did the worst thing a friend could have done: I bailed. She was clearly going through some tough stuff, and I called her a weird mess and checked out.
      I can't help but wonder if she'd be any different if I'd been there for her. I said I was her friend, and then I basically said, F**k you. I guess I'm rethinking things.

...

      I know I'm probably the only one, but the evolution of Toy Story's Mrs. Davis bothers me. In Toy Story 1, she has a brunette ponytail and wears pale shirts with colorful, pajama-like pants. In Toy Story 2, her hair is much too short for a ponytail, and her eyes have gone from pale blue to brown. By the time we get to Toy Story 3, her hair is blond, her bangs are uneven, and her eyes are blue again. Not to mention the animation in the first movie is really bad. Her clothes look like Play-Dough, and her eyes are sunk way too deep into her forehead. By the second movie, the animation has improved greatly, and she's totally cute. By the third movie she's got the pig snout nose traditionally used in animation movies, but at least it's not pushed too close to her mouth. (Man, I hate that. If Rapunzel sneezed, it would just go all over her lips.)
      I could always choose to believe she cut her hair, dyed it, and maybe got colored contacts; perhaps as a midlife crisis. I mean, her husband is dead, her son's going off to college. Some people get obsessed with their appearance when things turn to shyt; and some-times Pixar and Disney (or as I like to call the collaboration, Pixney) actually try to incorporate a hint of realism into their movies...believe it or not.
      But back to topic, Mrs. Davis hardly looks like the same person.

 

AAAAGGGHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!

      I am so infuriated with damn summer. I hate it! I have been so severely congested for a whole week that I've had to eat open-mouthed like a slob, just so I could breathe. Benadryl's not doing a thing, except making me so drowsy that I can't think straight; but of course, because I can't breathe, I can't sleep. For about seven days now I've been wide awake until about seven or eight; and at nine my alarm goes off.
      I can't wait for the rain and snow. I can't wait to f*cking breathe again. Won't be anytime soon, though, because I have to sit in a car with my mother, who just used hairspray, and I'm allergic to that, too. I'm allergic to cats, and the woman who owns one and is always covered in fur is going to hug me. And I have to sit in a car where all the windows will for sure be rolled all the way down as we drive through pollen so thick it looks like a blizzard.
      If I don't make it through the week, don't forget me, okay?

      PS. Great. Somebody threw away all my snacks...It wouldn't suck so much if I hadn't fought the urge to eat one overnight. I resisted because I knew it would be there in the morning; and now it's in the compost. >:(

Terrifying Toys

      I'm trying to write Toy Story fan-fiction, but I needed to create a character. So I hopped online and began looking up differ-ent types of toys. I didn't find what I was looking for...I just found a lot worse. Check it out:

Blink! Blink, dagnabbit!

* * *





This must be what Chucky plays with.

* * *




This is what nightmares are made of.

* * *




Honey, you're a mess.

* * *





And now, the worst for last...

      ...Frozen Charlotte! This particular doll comes in its own casket. Also labelled "Living Dead Doll", it was based upon a poem called A Corpse Going To A Ball, which tells of a young girl called Charlotte who refused to wrap up warmly to go on a sleigh ride because she did not want to cover up her pretty dress; and she froze to death during the journey.







Blog Post Number Whatever

      Things here are going better. With only four days left, before my training kicks off, I've been working to get my routine back. I think it's going okay. I'm more excited than scared, finally. I know now what I want to do with my life.
      I'm just a little upset that I can't find the receipt for my fifth and sixth Walking Dead posters. I know I held it coming out of the store. I know they were marked two dollars each and I know I got charged fifteen dollars. I've got to find the receipt.

Stop And Think, For Once

      Man, people are weird as hell. Every time I go to YouTube, I see a helpless Hannah saying things like, "Which episode is this? Wait, who portrays so-and-so?" They had the capacity to open up the web, type in YouTube and press Enter, but they don't have the same intelligence to look it up for themselves, instead of waiting and waiting for an answer?
      They need me to hold their hand and walk them through the process, I suppose. Step one, open the Internet. Step two, type in the name of the show you want information about. Include key words, like perhaps the name of the character, or an event that happens within the episode. Step three, hit Enter and read any of the articles. (And if it says Ad, it's probably an ad!) Step four, once you find two or more articles that all say the same, concerning which episode and season it is; copy and paste the episode and season into your browser and hit Enter, just to make sure. Aaaand, if they don't know how to do that either, try right-clicking once in awhile. Or take a class, because it's so obvious they need it.
      I should start a class. "Logic: It's not for everybody. Rose College, the place for idiots to learn virtually anything."
      Well, people, yesterday I threw a grand technology idea of mine into the real world, and though it has five views (all mine) and no replies, I'm eagerly waiting. All the other posts have feedback, but they're questions. Mine is a discussion; I guess I used words that were much too big for their tiny brains to comprehend.
      The good news is, I woke up early without an alarm clock. I'll be damned if I fall asleep at my school on the first day! Also, it finally hit me how to get my fourth book rolling. I don't dread writing it anymore; I'm actually looking forward to it again!
      Okay, I am hearing everything in Woody's voice. I think it's time for a Toy Story marathon! I thought about buying the movies...I thought about buying a lot of movies...but there seemed to be no sense anymore in buying something I could watch free online. Of course if I had the DVDs, I could watch them on my portable DVD player when the power goes out.
      Hm. I could've thought that through more. I guess I'll save up for a DVD player first; I would think they're more expensive, and I already have some movies. Twelve, to be exact; two of which are three-in-ones.
      Well, I'm going to start my day...I guess.


      PS. WHOOO! I was right; Finding Dory does come out in June! Sixteen days, fifteen hours and fifteen minutes and counting!
      PPS. My technology idea still has no replies. And I'm stumped, because it's a very efficient idea, and it could benefit all of us. Meanwhile, all the stupid ideas are popular. I don't understand some people. (June 10th, 2016 at 9:52 PM)

...

      Bummer...I just wasted 12,000 dollars on potions. I bought five twice, then two, but none of them showed up in my Inventory...At least the gems are easy to come by.
      Well, things here are going okay, I guess. Slow, but sure; and truth be told I don't even mind the slow going. I'd like more to happen, but I plan on savoring the time I have between now and my nerve-wracking September surgery. I've decided I'll bite down on my fear and go through with it, because I want however long I've got left to be pleasant, and it won't be if I refuse the terrifying procedure...As I have many times before, I'll heal from the gagging, blood, and anesthesia; and hopefully I won't get an infection and die.
      I'm a very uplifting person, as you can tell. Anywho, my Facebook is having another slow day, so I'm just going to write my book instead. I have got to get things moving. I came up with a terrific idea, but the problem is kicking it into action. I mean, where the frig do I start? I think the phrases, "The moon was..."/"The stars were".../"The sun was..."/"The wind was"... were used about a thousand times already. I want something new. I've thrown away several hundred paragraphs, and even entire chapters. I want something...gripping. I need to focus really hard on this; it's my whole life right now. I wash my hair every night, I eat, I go to bed way too late, I wake up too late, my routine is lost, I'm shoving all my hobbies to the back of my mind. I'm losing myself, I know it, but I don't care; because this is going to be my legacy. The least I can do is try my best.
      The sad thing is, it's not my legacy. It's stolen characters, while mine haven't really done much since their creation in 2006. But I can focus on this. I can imagine the characters doing exactly everything. I can hear them speak my script. Then I go to my book, and I get nothing, except bitter disappointment; as the waste bin gets filled with failure. So, yes, I'm stealing characters, I'm isolating myself...sue me. I've got a passion, and I'm following my dream. I'm rewriting the book I tried to write as a kid, and it's much better. Before...I couldn't imagine anything happening. I just ploughed my way on through. I knew it was bad, and I kept going; and that was one of my biggest mistakes.
      With my original story, I throw away, and I throw away more; and it never improves, no matter what. I think I just need to kiss my literary spirit goodbye, and keep stealing characters. After all, that's what Disney and DreamWorks did. Think of this as a tribute.
      I wrote a poem last night, but it sucked ass. For some inexplicable reason, I saved it; don't ask me why because I have no clue.
      I think I'll skip playing games and writing books. I'll just go wash my hair and watch a movie before bed. With less than two weeks before my school appointment (unless they push the date back again), I have got to get back into schedule. For some reason my body demands twelve hours of sleep, and cannot function with eleven. If I go to bed at two AM, I can't even think of getting out of bed until after two PM. Sadly, that happened today. Truth be told I should already be in bed, if I need to be awake at 8...But my hair is driving me crazy; and if I go to bed with wet hair, it's all bent to f**k when I wake up.
      Okay, I'm off. Later, guys.

Hmm...

      My brother enjoyed Angry Birds, so I watched it, too...And, while it had one, maybe two, funny moments; I don't think I'll watch it again. I rate it...two out of ten. The first percent is because of Red; I like his anger. The second percent is, I like it when the eagle bashes his head and almost swears.
      But aside from that...it stinks. It's a headache. I'm amazed I made it out alive; I thought I'd have died of boredom. Seriously, they had to have been high, during the making of this movie, because...Well, come on. Birds that don't fly, green pigs that do. I don't mean to be cruel - oh, wait, yes, I do. If a monkey were to stick his finger into his own excrement and smear it all over, his would be a better story.
      Red was a good character. At first.
      I was enjoying his character, right up to the point where he de-cided to find a happy place. He had been very relatable. They could have done more, but instead we had to see ninety-six minutes of Imodium.
      Well, maybe ninety-four. It started out okay.

YES!

      So, as my Facebook friends already know, I finished my third book! And I already have ten possible, unofficial ideas for my fourth. I know how it will begin and end, but the others are a little iffy.
      Here's the joke, although I'm not at all kidding; the reason I began writing this book still hasn't happened. From July 24th, 2014 to May 24th, 2016...that's all filler. Detail. Damn, right? I know. But it's entertaining as hell; and my fourth book will, hopefully, wrap things up.
      But I don't care if it takes me until the twentieth book. I'm having the best time! Well, the best time one can have when she's all alone, waiting anxiously for nerve-wracking appointments and school to begin. I just know if I were directing a movie, it wouldn't take me a year to make each episode. There'd be people who would do whatever I told them to, to make it happen exactly as I want. There might be other directors...But when I'm sitting here, all by myself, it takes longer, because nobody's here to help me.
      Still, I was born to do this. I was born to write. I'm even hoping my line of employment will be as an editor! I'm always correcting people, I'm an English literate; why not put those traits to good use? I'd be surrounded by people who would want me to correct them! I'd be right at home!
      So on June 6th, I need to tell my case manager that I've changed my mind about working with pets - allergies, dander, whatnot - and would prefer to work as an editor's apprentice, instead. He might be flustered with my inconsistency, but I just have a very good feeling about this.

YES!

      I was very depressed earlier. I didn't realize how generally okay with my life I had been until my mood today. Not even music could lift my spirits. So instead, I cried and I slept; and now I feel great!
      And this might also have something to do with it: Not only did my ban get lifted, from my most successful account; but Finding Dory comes out next month. I've been waiting since 2003 for this! That theater is going to be packed with adults who saw Finding Nemo when they were children. Including me. Oh, I better start saving up for my ticket! I've got fifty-two cents so far, whoo!

Walkward!

      I was trying to look up pictures of talons on Google Images. Instead, I got pictures of some of the most awkward fashions. Try these on for size...

                                                                     

   

  I think I'm seeing double.

 I don't care what "fashion experts" say,
 feet should not bend like that.

   

  
    And they definitely shouldn't bend like this...

        


Or like this. Come on, ladies, stop torturing yourselves...It's not worth it.

 

...

      Excuse the nerd-rant I posted on May 6th. I meant every word, but now it makes me giggle. I don't even care...but that's probably because I broke down and made a new account, and continued my nerdy addiction like I said I would never do again. It's going so well that even if I don't get my other accounts back, I don't care! But this time, I'll avoid Mushroom Forest...Perhaps then, I won't lose my work a third time; and if I do anyway, then I'm done. I just have to make sure it's the level, and not the game, telling the admins I cheat. Which, by the way, I still don't.
      My books are going well. On my own story, with original characters, I have over thirty pages. It's currently stuck, but lately instead of ploughing my way through utter sh*t, and making it stink even worse; I delete the bad stuff and throw all my effort into fixing it. I learned that with the fanfiction I'm doing, which only needs twelve or so more pages before it's done (I'm treating this thing like a haircut; I want them all to be the same length).
      Not much else here is going on; I've been waking up at around eleven. I know that's considered sleeping in; but when you're up half the night and your eyes burn with fatigue, it doesn't really feel like rest. And it's certainly not relaxing when you know you won't sleep, and you dread going to bed, and then, sometimes, eventually you fall asleep and somebody wakes you. That's the worst. But, I want to keep my routine, and be ready for school; and maybe, in the future, a job...
      As for my September surgery, I'm trying to be positive. I'm trying to tell myself the pain, gagging, blood and anesthesia will only last a few hours or a day; and then it'll be over and in a perfect world, I won't get an infection and die, and I'll never have to go to the dentist again. Wouldn't that be swell?
      But it was the funniest thing...When I was at the school, they asked on the application if I had any upcoming surgeries, and I said, "Yeah, in September." They asked what kind, I told them, and my case manager said, "Well, I had that! It nearly killed me!" And then she had the good grace to rethink her words, not like she could take them back; but at least the other person in the room with us could laugh about it.
      Yeah. Trying to be positive, but it's never been my forté.

Okay, I Am Seriously Pi$$3d

      I just got banned from my game. AGAIN. And, just like last time, I didn't do anything to deserve it! I collected my coins, I was nice to everybody, I did my quests...I never cheated or anything. Does anybody ever not get banned?
      I'm not even going to try again. At least, not unless they decide to give me a permanent ban on both accounts. These two will expire...But that's even worse. Now when I do get my account back, I have to wonder if they'll ban me again, forever. I'd rather they not tease me like that. If they think they have reason to kick me off (which they don't), then I'd rather I only get one chance from the get-go. I mean, be serious. Don't f**k with me like that.
      Until I know I'm permanently banned with both accounts, I'm through with Facebook. I'll play my word games, but I'm done wasting my time. I'll just play with my Sims. I can always rely on that, at least.
      But I'm so pissed. I finally had over 1,500 coins. I was so close to gaining access to the kingdom. I had unlocked three new maps in one night...How does anybody level up in that game, if they treat their players this shabbily?
      I never cheated. I can promise that to anyone who cares. Maybe nobody else gives a shit, but I do. I worked so hard. Everything I did, I did twice. Defeating thirty Malicious Weeds of a level 20, when I was only level 12, trying to avoid the bees as I dug for that book, and even collecting the eighth Exploration Token in Mush-room Forest. That was so hard. Seriously? Why would I cheat on a game I love, if I know it can get me banned?

In A Rut

      I feel well and truly done in. I've been crawling into bed before eight PM lately, so I can get enough sleep and wake up in the early morning, which is what my family wanted (now they just complain I'm in bed too early and sleep too much...even though way too much of my time is spent wide awake).
      I don't get enough sleep, though. I'm sooo exhausted. I was hoping for a movie marathon, or at least some popcorn and a half-hour DVD show. But I think I'll just drag myself through the monotony of a shampoo and then stumble off to bed. Again.
      I was going to wash my hair yesterday, around supper...But I was too tired. I went to bed and didn't wake up until 1 AM. At least if I do it now, I can go to bed knowing my hair is clean. That's always nice. Today I wanted very much to go out and do something fun. Yesterday my mom said today was the day, and then she ran off with Boyfriend. I got a text earlier - tomorrow we go out. Great, except now I want to sleep in. I'm not in the mood anymore; she could have at least asked if I was up to it. I showed her that much courtesy yesterday.
      Okay, I'm worn out. I'm too tired. I'm done. Off to wash my hair, and then I'm calling it a day.
      Again.

Another Sad Day

      I did my laundry earlier this week, and upon returning to the washer to put my load in the dryer, discovered something very precious to me had gotten washed...The MP3 I couldn't find. I was devastated, and asked my brother to fix it. He put it on top of the hot water tank for a few days, but it still would not turn on. I plugged it into my computer and it malfunctioned...
      So the best MP3 player I ever had is now in the recycle bin. Every song I ever downloaded, reformatted, and transferred is still on the MP3, but it's beyond help. It's dead.
      I have another MP3, a spare, here at my desk. This morning, at six, I was already wide awake, transferring the same songs onto it. It's not the same. It doesn't have the "Now playing" feature, which means I have to start at the beginning each time and it's very slow; not to mention the plastic covering the screen has almost peeled completely off. I literally have to go see if we have clear tape, to hold it all together.
      So, that's that. I think I'm going to refill on my Sunny D and watch Beside The Dying Fire. See ya.

Blooger (Yes, I Did That On Purpose)

Don't read this if you haven't yet seen the episode of The Big Bang Theory, titled The Viewing Party Combustion. (But it's okay if you don't care, of course.)

* * *

      Well, the good news is, we now own the fifth season of The Walking Dead – and it seems like my ban on the game is only temp-orary, so that's really good.

      The bad news is, The Viewing Party Combustion only had one funny moment, and I already forgot what it was. In The Holographic Excitation, Howard annoys everybody by incessantly talking about space. In this episode, Raj annoys everybody by incessantly talking about dating two girls. In both episodes, neither realizes their rants of pride are just irritating. Normally I like Raj, with his dark eyes and his accent, but in this episode he just got on my nerves.

A Sad Day

      I've been banned from my game; can you believe it? I sure can't. They accused me of cheating, which of course I never did. Maybe I asked for help too many times, I don't know. So, Zhalla is no more. And that sucks, because I was level 13, I'd just decorated her bedroom, and I was going to do the rest of her house. Not to mention some of the quests are nearly impossible, and now I have to start all over using a different email, which even though it's mine makes me feel like an imposter and a fraud.
      I just can't believe they banned me! I've never been banned in my life...I had no reason to be in the first place. And of course, now, I have to wonder if they'll ban me again.
      You know what? I don't much care for this.

Ah, Fudge!

      Damnit. That's not what I wanted.
      I posted a comment in my atheist group, but because there is no "Share Only To Group" option, all my religious family members can see it too. So, great; now they're probably going to huddle up and make me seem like some horrid person...Or, is this a good thing?

Almost The Second Month

      On February 6th, I noticed the memory chip for my camera was nowhere to be found. Here we are in late April, and there's still no sign of it. I'm really getting disappointed. I've looked everywhere; I guess it's gone for good.

I Finally Did It

      I told my sister a long time ago I would take some pictures of a funny incident in my Sims 3 game before I deleted it (and from the way my computer is screaming like a Banshee, I say the sooner the better). It took me long enough, but, better late than never. As promised, here they are:

 

 

 

 

      For all who don't know (as if anyone else ever reads this), these are my Sims, whose low knowledge of alchemy have transmuted them into solid gold statues, each worth fifty grand. I immediately saw the humor in their final poses and, instead of selling them, decided to arrange their valuable bodies. Sorry this took so long, sis!

 

No Idea

      Well, I'm in pain again. It never seems to stop; thankfully this time it's just my hand. I can't close it or even touch it without it hurting; and I swear my two sorest fingers are swollen. Or maybe they're all that fat.
      This week my brother told me he had a long time ago definitively proven we were descended of kings and queens. Last night I got caught up in Ellen clips on YouTube, and I came across one where she, and then somebody who commented on the video, definitively proved she was related to Kate Middleton. So how crazy is that? Through marriage, I am related to one of my idols. 

A Funny Oops

     Every time I need a laugh, I reflect on what happened two or three days ago, when GST came in. I was in the car, with my mother and brother; and all three of us are very aware that my eyesight is failing. There was this sign, and it was close enough where I could read just some of it. What I saw read, "I come with my wife." We were parked at a red light, and I doubted very much something like that would be outside of a grocery store. So I leaned closer, focused harder, and the words "I cook with my wine" came slowly into focus.
      I can't recall another time where I made my brother laugh so hard.

What Did I Do?

      Ergh...For maybe a week now, my legs have just been killing me! It hurts to walk, to sit, to stand, to do basically anything. And I'm pretty sure the backs of my knees are bruised. I mean, I don't think it's supposed to be purple back there.
      I suppose it could be from walking...They were sore when I did. But I don't think I'm that weak; I just walked around the block, to and through some stores and then walked back. The other times I did that it didn't bother me...I hope I'm not "getting old".

Holy Hell!

      I went to sleep with a clean Facebook inbox; and when I came on to check my mail, I had 76. So I ignored it for awhile to play some games, and by the time I clicked off, it had gone up to 97. I don't know why all these people are adding me, but I'm the popular girl; something I never wanted to be. And I still don't. I think once each of these strangers are offline, I'll delete them all. And maybe I'll delete anyone else who doesn't talk to me...It's a keep-in-touch site, after all.
      Oh! And in my new game, I've gotten 45k in gems! And I'm a level six "Really Cool", about to level up. But for anyone else who plays that game, don't go into the cave on the beach unless you can beat the boss.