...

      Last night I finally put a different game into the GameCube machine, switching it up from Shrek Smash 'N Crash Racing to Shrek 2. I'm great at compromises, aren't I? And I finally made it to the part where Fiona gets stolen. I learned how to control Dragon, but I always got stuck at the same part. Ten times. Finally I shut it off, but I was so happy I made it as far as I did.
      And some other weird stuff happened in SSCR. Like one of those Farquaad boxes just disappearing. It had the sparkly cloud thing you see when it gets run into, but I was in first place. Nobody had hit it. And my frog balloon flew waaay too high; it was just a speck on the screen. I knew it wasn't dirt because I saw it die. I also saw a castle guard get airborne.
      Last night I also planned my book. For once my writing was aligned at the side. Normally it leans. It still looked like a child wrote it, with a foot, but at least the edge was tidy. The plan seems easy enough, but each time I write it, it's another dis-appointment. Big surprise. Think I might just call it quits for the fourth day in a row and just watch some Toy Story. However I have been stuck on the first sentence in the first chapter on the first page for about seven years now...I think I should just accept what a total failure I am. Maybe I'm meant for something else. Or maybe I've made it too complicated. But complicated doesn't mean im-possible, does it?
      Well, for me it might. I'm dreading the next few days of my life just because I need to walk down to the bank, and then figure out this bus schedule because my mom relies on me...for some reason. I don't know why she can't just call the number right there on the paper and make sure we won't get lost. It is never a good idea to trust me. It is always, however, a good idea to trust the people who are confident they know what the hell they're doing.
      Had a yucky dream last night. I've had it before. I went for a jog in my day clothes, even though it was snowing and there was half a foot on the ground. Climbed a hill and realized a cop was chasing a gunman on foot. When the gunman went down the hill, I climbed up and for some reason, my hand bumped into a light switch on the tree. I thought for sure the gunman would kill me, but no, he took off his own head. And there it was, just looking at me.
      I prefer the dream before that one, where my family and I got separated in this massive building, filled with nothing but toilets and hallways and empty rooms. There were balconies everywhere and I stood on one, watching this baseball game from the other side of a large chain link wall kind of thing. I know why that was in my dream; I've been hit in the head with too many baseballs and even my dream self was skittish. But we ended up at that building after a bus ride and a bear sighting, and called the building a campus, so I'm pretty sure that was because I've seen Monsters University about fifteen times. Ten, since I bought it last month. I just can't get tired of it.
      I am getting tired of being awake, however; and I do need to wash my hair before The Big Day. I know the walk will be good for me...I just don't wanna. It's been really fucking hot, and I just don't feel safe here. I can't. And something I don't believe my family, the reason I'm going in the first place, hasn't taken into account is that with both of us gone, our wheelchair-bound mother will be alone. Can't trust her to be alone, either. What if she falls, or gets hurt, or...wants to drive and has nobody here to stop her?
      She often speaks of wanting to drive drunk. My best argument is that if she hits a car carrying a pregnant woman, she could very well cause a miscarriage; and seeing as how she had nine of them, how rude it would be of her to inflict it upon another woman. I don't want to be petty, but I do want her to stop and think. I want an answer besides Who the hell cares? So on the other hand, maybe a walk with my brother would be nice.

Could Have Stayed In Bed

      At midnight, my brother wrote an advance note, saying "Gone for tubes 5:45". At one, my mom woke up, saw the note and freaked out, saying it was a big, bold lie and that Satan was working through him - and through me, because I didn't see what the big deal was. Sixteen hours later she's still giving him the silent treatment, not even courteous enough to answer questions.
      She wanted to get in the car and go, and not come back. I was so tired and fed up that I thought, hey, you know what, if she gets pulled over and fails a breath test, maybe she'll learn some responsibility. Even so, I stayed up for yet another night, waiting for sounds, looking out the window. I didn't think she'd act, and I was right. But to use her words, he's "the biggest liar ever and such a traitor, the prick." Poor guy. I never thought he and I would be on the same team. It always used to be Mom and me. But last night she called me a dumbass bitch, so I think she's going to be kicked out soon. It's alright, she has a place to go. So do Lorne and I. It's just so weird. She preached such integrity back in the day, always wanted to do the right thing, and now she's letting this, if not making this, happen.
      All I can say is, good. You know what? I'm ready for change. I just don't want things to be the same in 2018 as they are now. Because chair padding can't be dented. Because you can't use the shredder. Because you can't type fast like I do. Otherwise you will be cussed out. It's ridiculous.
      And she wonders why I stay in bed...

Hmph...

      Well, Mom's talking about suicide again. I can't help but wonder if it's the only way to ease her suffering. Every doctor, every ER says she's perfectly healthy; but she's still vomiting, fainting, for-getting where she is, and now she's having accidents, too. And I don't mean on the road.
      I mean, how would I feel in her shoes? I've wanted to die when I was perfectly healthy, just because my life was going in circles. But if I started vomiting on and off for 4 weeks, fainted behind the wheel and in public, made a mess on myself - wouldn't I want to commit suicide, too?
      I'm always saying how very much I want to choose how I die. I don't want to die at the hands of a stranger. I sure don't want to die in a hospital. I want to die when I'm ready, and I don't want to be saved because I only want to die once.
      And now I hear somebody else, somebody I love, speaking the same way. It's frightening to be on the other side of the situation. But I understand it. We don't even want our dogs and cats to suffer. We shoot horses for broken legs. Yet we lock up people who are ready to die, call them crazy, and let them wallow in self pity; cutting off most social interaction and deeming them unfit to be around.
      Humans are cruel and hypocritical. You know, all our lives we're told we need to make our own choices. When it comes to the biggest one, the most important one, it's taken away. And we're locked up and put on medications because we tried to think for ourselves.
      I'm not trying to sound callous. Of course I don't want my mother to die. But even more, I don't want her to suffer.
      Am I the only one?

Nerdified

      I went shopping with a previous neighbor the other day, and she graciously offered to take me to any store. I asked if we could go to Wal-Mart and, as usual, I flew on over to electronics and skimmed through the selection. And there, sitting on the shelf for the low price of fifteen dollars, were the first four Star Trek movies. I know my brother talks about it, plays the games, quotes it, and so on, so I picked it up for him. I saw the scene where human emotions are implemented into Data's robotic brain, and I saw him say Oh shit and laugh uncontrollably until he fell down...
      Well, now I have the theme song stuck in my head. I'm afraid I might one day start thinking it's not so bad after all. Or worse - understand what Sheldon's been talking about all this time. I feel like Penny, when she realizes the guys' nerdy ways have gotten to her.

WHYbrows

Take a look at some of the world's worst photos...

You should feel good about yourself. Unless you were featured.

Initiative

      Normally, when loved ones go down I am such a coward. I basically hide and wait for it to be over. Not because I don't care, but because I have no damn idea what to do. I totally panic. Today my mom and I were out for a walk, and her legs kind of just melted away. I started to panic, and then I just did what I had to do. I told her I was calling 911, and then I did. I went with her to the hospital, called for help when her IV exploded, I even wandered around while she rested.
      But I still couldn't look at her bruised arms. It's so colorful; I've literally seen those shades in a painting. I spoke to the paramedics, nurses and other patients. Three elderly men were so nice and helpful. They reminded me of the elderly man who asked to help me to the car when I broke my toe. He could barely walk himself, and he wanted to help a stranger. I'll never forget him. His name was Grant.
      It's the good deeds, the little ones, that can make you forget how cruel this world can be. And some people are so good, they shouldn't even be here.

      Quick edit; during my walk around the hospital I found my way from one entrance to the other, where I saw the gift shop. It was closed, but I saw these signs in the window and they made me laugh:
1.) Life is no damn fairy tale...If you lose your shoe at midnight, you're probably drunk.
2.) I haven't spoken to my wife in 6 months...I don't want to interrupt her.
3.) If a man is alone in the forest, and no woman is around to hear him speak, is he still wrong?

What Happened And What's Going On

      Title's a Walking Dead reference, but it seems appropriate. I just need to get this off my chest. I didn't get any sleep last night, and I was not in the mood to go downtown. Mom noticed this and told me to sleep, and I was just too happy to oblige. I wanted a deep, restful sleep so I applied a nice thick layer of Vicks, and I was out like a light.
      Now, here's where it gets...interesting? I was out cold, so out of it that I didn't even hear it when my mom's boyfriend showed up and, seeing how pathetically drunk she was, started yelling at her. Remember, I'm just quoting my brother here, but Mom's boyfriend said something like she was ruining the family, and she needed to quit drinking right now. (She didn't.) My brother then told her she was not allowed to drive anymore. Not allowed! I understand their frustration, I feel it too. But she's the parent; she doesn't take orders from us. Even if I expected her to because I was such a betch, she is not obligated to act like my daughter. She is, first and foremost, my roommate. What she does impacts my life - hard - and if I'm sick of it, I can just move out.
      The temptation is there, don't get me wrong; but she's sixty years old and about sixty-five pounds. She's frail, she's weak, she's old, and she's sick. She's been vomiting and fainting lately. How good would I feel about myself if I took off at what is probably the worst time of her life?
      Then again...there is the other way of looking at it. She can go through one bottle of wine a day, plus however many shots she has on her dates. My brother proved to us all that alcoholic beverages will strip away your potassium. So as long as she's drinking, she's only causing herself more harm. But she won't stop drinking. Even if she has to choose between her boyfriend and her booze, I don't think she'll take a lot of time to consider. All I see coming of this whole confrontation is the three of us splitting up - and she and her boyfriend, too.
      I hate him. If I saw him dying of thirst and I had just bought the last Coke, I would feel a little unhappy about sharing. But he does care for my mom, and if it meant she would give up her alcohol, I would put up with him. Every day, she cracks open the wine, sometimes as early as noon. She staggers around, spilling every-where, repeating herself, refilling her glass until she is too drunk to wake up again. Then she wakes up around eight or nine and repeats the whole process. It's painful to watch, and on nights like tonight, where she makes me refill the glass for her, I really really hate myself for listening to my mother.
      She needs an intervention or something. This madness has got to stop. She's always saying how wonderful life is. If she meant it, she wouldn't burn through life drunk; she'd savor it. It wouldn't be a problem if she were actually happy. And maybe she's not actually happy because of the hell she puts herself through. If she would let the potassium pills do their job, she might actually start living again.
      The main reason I want her to stop drinking that swamp-scented poison is because whenever she drinks it, which is always, she starts talking about suicide. I don't know what she wants. Life is wonderful, I should jump off a bridge. Should I believe her when she's sober and clear-headed, or drunk and honest?
      This whole thing is incredibly hard to watch, day in and day out; it's always the same. The only thing I know for sure is how much it would pain her own parents to see what their daughter is like. My brother and my mom's boyfriend are ready to butt heads with her. I'm just not sure I'd be a good soldier. I'm weak and unheard, and nobody takes me seriously. Not even my...room-mates.
      I just miss the days when she and I were friends. I could tell her a secret and it would be safe. I could share a problem and she would help look for the answer. I miss that. Now she's just a stranger, with a bottle in her hand. Couple of years ago, my aunt came over, and my mom was so drunk that she didn't even recognize her own sister. She kept saying, "Who's he? Who's that guy?"
      Now that same aunt is back in town, staying at a hotel because once again, Mom's drunk. Probably didn't care to be insulted again. She knows now, just how much booze my mom can drink in a night. The look on her face. I don't know why she insists on coming over, but I envy that she gets to leave.
      I sometimes kind of get the sense that she's trying to annoy us all.