...

       Today was good, despite the heatwave―which is mild compared to what's coming, unfortunately. We knew it was going to get hot, so last night we made a chocolate cake with chocolate frosting and cherries, which alone is a treat. Then today we ordered pizza, too. And pop. So my sweet tooth is very happy. I plan on having a good night eating my devil's food cake and ironically, watching Lucifer.

      I also got a good gaming session in today. Made a pretty cool luxury mansion in The Sims 3. A pool on the rooftop, six Marguaret Vaguesters, which is the most expensive car (at least, without certain expansion packs that I have installed, but disabled―I really want to play them, but my game crashes every time I try or even have the audacity to change the settings). This house actually costs over one million, which makes it the most expensive house I ever made. There's a fountain in the front yard that all by itself is fifty thousand.

      Obviously my Sims are too broke now, but I plan on moving them in eventually. I could just use cheats, but I'm not sure who will live there yet, since I have seven characters and the mansion has one bed. I should have thought that through. Granted, their current house has three beds and a crib, but it also has a garden...and, what with it being The Sims 3, I'm not sure the horses will be able to eat the plants once I move them out. It sucks for that; I can't even lock the doors on their other properties. So yeah, I made a mistake...in private. At least I didn't sell it to millions while making them pay out the ass.

      Devil's food cake with Lucifer, fish strips with Finding Nemo. That's kind of gold. Anyway, on to this pathetic little party. I had to battle a headache yesterday right in the middle of Chicago Med, and my memory's kind of fuzzy on what happened. I know Asher stuck her nose where it didn't belong, again. She acts like the whole hospital is her gossipy, cliquey high school heaven. What's next, a poster of a boy band on her locker door?

     But Dan was sweet, even smiled for once. I do remember that. I remember him saying "Can you get me when Dad arrives?" He was referring to a patient's dad, but he sounded decades younger. I remember wanting to rewind... I don't think I did.

    But yeah, Asher... She really gets on my nerves. She was introduced as a junkie who OD'd. Okay, yeah, she overcame it, became a brilliant doctor, but she still acts like a teenage girl. Giggling over crushes and wanting to know who's going out with who. I mean, treat your patient, sign papers, take a shower, shut your trap. She makes me miss Stevie. Hell, she's enough to make me miss Rhodes! Ugh, Rhodes.

      I've stuck with this show because it's about medicine. I love Maggie for the most part (she's kind of giggly and gossipy, too, but not as bad as Asher and I cannot get over how she stood up to Choi), Dan completely and totally, I liked Will, Sarah, Vanessa, Goodwin, Dr. Latham, Dr. Scott, Trini, Doris, Abrams. Other characters are good enough; Peter, Archer, even Pam Blake. But I cannot stand giggly, gossipy, mentally-twelve Hannah Asher. I did not even realize how much I didn't like her.

      It's okay though. I like Chloe Decker, but I do not like Leslie Shay. At least not yet. And Chicago Med, I think, would not be tolerable without Dan, Maggie, Will, Sarah, et cetera. Chicago Fire and PD have a few of them, but in very few episodes. I'm not sure I can watch it all the way through... Even if it does have Severide, Voight, Halstead, Casey. And I only, only list Spencer's character because he was in House. My favorite doctor show by far. Med is very good, but it would be so much better if I could just take all my favorites from that, and plop them into the House universe.

    It's apparently about 14 hours on the road between their locations, and the entire gang going to the other location's hospital is a little unrealistic. And this is coming from someone who writes books about Lucifer. The only thing that makes sense is if Rhodes, or Vanessa, or Will, goes to their own hospital from their own past. I do hope it happens eventually. But I still want to know what TF happened to Sam.

      And maybe my memory is shot from yesterday's headache, since I could barely look at the screen, but I cannot recall if Crockett was in the episode. I remember seeing his name, but not his face.

      Anywho. I'm going to stop talking to myself now. It seems like it's all I ever do. Even deviantART, once bustling with my friends' sub-missions, is now completely quiet. Like I'm not being alerted anymore when they publish something.

      Oh, whatever. I'll just go be alone, as usual. I wish I could say I was good company.

...

       "I'm feeling...happy...which is a big deal, for me."

      Seriously, I am and it is. I've been sleeping great lately, and I'm pretty tempted to go back to bed and see if I can get some more good sleep. But I don't really want to waste what is actually a pretty good mood. I've been taking more Benadryl than the recommended dose, and I'm finally not staying awake all bloody night, every bloody night. I'm actually sleeping like a regular person now; eight hours at a time. My last snooze only lasted about two hours, but it was still...amazing. For me anyway; I dreamt my brother's bike got stolen.

      And in my eight-hour sleep, I dreamt that I was at a hotel, my family was walking down the hall, and I was running after them. I wasn't far behind, but I just could not catch up. I should be able to, even if most of my focus was on the shadow of my hair as I ran; it looked really silly. It's knee-length, but it was bobbing around like Chloe Decker's ponytail (when she walks, which I hate). They got outside, and before I could leave, the doors locked for the night and I couldn't open them. At first, my family didn't notice that I'd been locked in, so they kept walking, going home. I turned, went back to our room, didn't have our card key but what the hell, it's a dream. So I stayed up there until my family came back for me. My stepfather, who was always saying goofy things, said, "Is there a woman up there? A graceful woman?"

      And I, being accurately pissed, went back inside and slammed the door. My dream-self contemplates staying there the whole night or maybe longer, saying I was quarantined, but eventually I go to the door, see all these keys hanging right there beside it, and I try them all (yeah, from the inside). The doors open up and before I can decide whether I'm staying or going, I wake up.

      So strange. But I woke up feeling so good. Tired, but good. I usually feel good in bed; once I stand, I realize how sore I am. I can feel my good mood slipping away; pretty soon I'll be back to my pissed self. (Whoa, don't read that wrong.)

      I hope not. I'm never happy. As I lay there, it cheered me thinking of deleting my chat history with that guy I called my bestie. He doesn't even want to chat, so why should I hang onto a corpse of what was? Of course now I'm rethinking it.

      But, ooh, speaking of corpses! Last night, I was playing Scrabble with my mother. I played glocks, aimed, deaths, then I got a Bingo, coffins. Then she played guns, pig, and coral. All of these are in theme with the Walking Dead. I was just sitting there laughing my ass off. Even took a picture. I asked her to send it to me, she said "Okay!" and hasn't.

      Now the AC is on. I'm freezing solid. Like those walkers in the episode The Storm.

Weird, Cool

      I wanted to know who played Chloe's father on Lucifer, so I Googled it―obviously―and found the name Russell Simpson. But, oops, he died in 1959! How could Google even make that mistake, thinking it was Russell and knowing it was Chris Gilbert? That makes no sense!

      And Chloe's dad is married to Maze, so that's kind of cool. In huge news, my mother finally agreed to watch one episode. She didn't appear to like it, but she also said she would watch more. I know if I asked her why, she would blame it on being a Libra, always being balanced. Riiight. Whatever. I'm just impressed she took a chance. Or a leap, as the case may be.

...

       I burned my hand tonight. Ouch. I think if I hadn't set it down as quickly as I did, I might have lost skin. Eeeww.

Should Have Seen That Coming

       I don't know why we didn't remember that every time somebody comes here from PG, they bring a bug. Now my family's sick, and seeing as how I live with them...
      I swear I can feel myself deteriorating. However I am very excited, because I am all caught up on Chicago Med. I reached my goal! Now I'm waiting for the next episode to air. I didn't think I'd be able to do it. Yay me! And it seems I've immortalized my book in time, because my computer's dying. Apparently it was close to catching fire just like the last one. My brother took it apart to air-dust the inside and said there were spider webs. Gross...

      My perfect life? Lots of pizza and chicken, a lot of cats, preferably on a tropical blue island, and no spiders. I fail to see how they're "a link in the structure of life" or however they say it. Okay, so no silk, if we count silkworms. And I do, believe me. If it can drop down on a sticky thread that just won't let go, I want it gone. No silk clothing, big deal. Life ain't breaking down. There's cotton, fiber, nylon, polyester, you can use a material besides silk to make satin, which is close enough. But oh no! No disgusting, eight-legged night-mares? How will I live?

      Very well, believe me. I'd much rather die than encounter one more big-ass wolfie. My worst nightmare is several of those, shooting around the room at lightning speed. I'd probably die of fright, and good luck finding that on the autopsy.

      But they updated my game, which now includes tornadoes, volcanoes and wildfires, so that's cool... It would be really cool if there was like a mortality risk. "Oh no! You failed as a parent! Respawn."

...

       My day didn't start out well; running on no sleep, I had to go downtown. Typical. I never sleep on payday. Then it just got worse! I got a headache, and general soreness all over. Went to my bank, withdrew, went to the store (apparently one guy was really checking out my hair, which is very close to my knees now). Tried to pass off as a human being, right? So I'm loading up the cab with groceries, and my hair decides to just spill all over the place. It got caught on everything and I yanked it so many times. Then I almost dropped the orange juice, which likely would have exploded and destroyed the driver's car. And then I bashed my head. Finally got home and realized my bra was only half-on, and the strap was hanging out of my sleeve.

      Shit. Worst day I've had in...ever? Anyway, I was so miserably exhausted that everything sounded weird, so I guzzled my energy drink and downed five sugar cookies. Hell, I've never felt attractive to begin with. I just want the energy to make it to my bed.

      The good news is, my brother got a spare keyboard, which he hooked up to my computer. I'm typing, and finally, the people who call from Egypt won't be able to comment on how quickly I type. But I was staying within my limits and reading the box. The product is actually terribly described; listen to this. "Pull back the spring design,rebound ligh delicate and comfortable touch Effective control of the space bar rebound. Durable UV character, durable UV character,wear-resisting."

      Don't capitalize whole words in the middle of your paragraphs, remember to hit the space bar, the word light ends in a T, and I don't know why you keep saying rebound. I wasn't in a relationship with my old keyboard.

      These people really need me. Anyway the new mouse is extremely mobile, so I put it on the wiping cloth for my glasses because I haven't had a pad in ages. I should get a pad. Oooh, I wonder if I can get one with a skull on it! Probably, yeah. I also picked up two new shirts which I have yet to try on. I can barely raise my left arm, it hurts so bad; but I'm actually looking forward to seeing if they fit. I hope so. The store didn't have any changing rooms, and I don't have the courage to just start taking my clothes off in front of everyone... But I was given a 30-day allowance to return the items.

      I hate shopping, but I grabbed them in five minutes. I was actually hoping to replace an old shirt, but I swear it was one of a kind. Google has been useless. I haven't seen that shirt in forever and I'm pissed; it was my favorite one. Seems like somebody just stole it from me and used it to mop up a puddle or something.

      And I seem to be getting over my issues! Yay me. The whole getting ghosted by someone who said he never would, the comment about being slapped. I think I'm moving on. God, I hope so. I didn't want to live with myself. And I know I did nothing wrong. Liked him, loved him, supported him, gave him space. Got carsick, like a demon. I'm not really mad anymore, but it still boggles my mind. Hitting someone because they don't travel well has the same logic as hating someone for not having your skin tone. Just saying.

      Oh, I love this keyboard. I can type and think at the same time. In other news, my mother's boyfriend gave me 16 books that just don't appeal. It's about spaceships, and queens, and whatever a tree cat is. Lot of fights in space in these books. I said they read back as Star Wars for the Amish, then I happened to see that the name of one of the ships was in fact Vulcan. Weird, right?

      I also extended the offer to read a stranger's book because he was down on having no audience. He doesn't know me, the connection again is through my mother's boyfriend. My mother described it as Harry Potter style, and given the books they thought I liked, I've been dreading this whole thing... But, if I help him, then maybe he'll help me. That's sort of a cool prospect. I have one friend on my Facebook who is a published author who's even traceable on the internet, but even she is always grasping for reviews and ratings.

      I have another Facebook friend who is a musician in a band. I suppose that's as close to the limelight as I'll ever get. I like my privacy, but not so much the loneliness. Every time I go to Wal-Mart, I'm reluctant to leave. I hate shopping, but there's people there. I always thank my drivers and cashiers and tell them to have a good day, but today I said my first hello to a pedestrian. Just because she was smiling.

      Everybody's so angry lately. Racist, and homophobic, overly supportive of the transgender stuff. Or they just have some superiority complex, hating everybody equally. I got used to hearing about white people getting pushed, or run over, so now it surprises me to see one white person attacking another. I wish nobody would care about the outside. I wish they would all shut up. I don't care if they are supportive―or opposed. There are so many more things to live for, and these days everybody just wants to hurt everybody else.

      I'm trying so hard to be nice. I don't know if it's worth it. I watch TV and see a cast of all colors, smiling and talking and supporting. I see it on live news. I know it's out there. But why can't it be local? Why can't it be current, instead of just...old videos that were once live? It's like something broke in everybody's minds all at once.

      I guess the best news of all is, I can go to bed anytime I want. Don't have to go out tomorrow. I will either not sleep or have a nightmare that will make me want to not sleep ever again, but it hardly matters. I know as soon as I lay down, like magic, I'll be wide awake.

      Maybe I'll give Benadryl another chance. The way I feel right now, something's gotta give. My wrist seems to have healed; it recently hurt so, so, so, so bad. I actually had to pick it up with my other hand when I was trying to stand up, because I couldn't just take it off the desk. I still have a bruise that goes halfway up my arm, but it feels great. It's so good to lock the bathroom door without having to bend my body instead of turning my hand. That pain didn't last long, not like this stinging sensation behind my ear. That's been going on for months; even ice hurts. I think about the hospital sometimes, but I'm so phobic about my past. And Covid.

      It's not that terrible. I'll soldier through. To feeling better, to my death. I honestly don't care. Really, all my energy goes into keeping my head up.

...

       I have the opportunity to go to Prince George this week to see family. Tempting, but I've decided to stay. I don't do well on a 10-minute car ride and PG's 10 hours away. My cousin volunteered to drive my mother and me, and my mother wanted my answer today. When I explained why, she said, and I quote, "I wish you could get over it. I'd slap it out of you."

      Seriously? She doesn't want to slap my brother for getting carsick. And I bet my ass, she wouldn't want to get slapped for being in pain.

      Fuck. My. Life. Cannot wait for her to go to PG.

Medspeak

       I'm really enjoying Chicago Med. I'm on season 6 of 9...so far. They are still making it, and I hope one day I'll be all caught up, waiting for the next. If they finish before that happens, that's okay, too. It's not my goal, but it's okay. I'm binging as much as I can. And finally learning military time because of it.

      Daniel's still my favorite. He is so funny. In season 5 episode 7, they get a patient who believes he is a vampire. Dan plays along and says, "You must be getting hungry...want me to call the blood bank?"

      Later on in the same episode, Halstead says, "Since hepatitis is transmitted through bodily fluids, probably got it from having sex with his girlfriend," and Dan quips, "Or sucking her blood. Yikes."

      Fucking love that guy. YES!! I just read he's in Chicago Fire. I've watched clips of that, too, which is how I initially got invested in Med. I wasn't sure about Fire, but if he's in it, I'll definitely be checking it out.

      Meanwhile, I had another couple of bizarre dreams. I dreamt that I was pretty, and people were actually looking at me. I dreamt that my mother wanted me to drive an ambulance and respond to this woman's 911 call, but I was just me, not a paramedic. And I dreamt that I had a closet where my TV is, and it had a hole in it, so I could look out into the living room and watch TV from my closet.

      So weird. I've been using Benadryl to help me fall asleep like I did when I was a kid. Google says it will lower the quality of my sleep. But I think the quality of my sleep is so low that the Benadryl actually raises it up to the level of bad. And I sleep better.

      Which reminds me, I was going to do that when I got home. I wasn't downtown for long, picked up my taxes, went to the 24-store to grab a Pepsi, but oh man, that turned out to be hard! In my advanced age, I don't do so well on hills, and I finally get to the top, limp all the way over to the bus stop about 100 feet away (I'm terrible with estimates, measurements, and math in general) and wait for about 15 minutes; then this (really handsome) older gentleman stops his construction work, crosses the road to inform me that I have to go back down the hill, cross the road, and walk even further than 100 feet (or whatever) to get to where the buses have been re-routed.

      Uggh. At least the scenery was nice... He even had blue eyes. I tried looking up Oliver Platt's eye color; did not go well. Apparently they're brown, green, gray, blue, hazel, and black. Umm...yeah, I'm not sure about that?

      My favorite character in Lucifer is Daniel, too. Last guy who wanted to date me? Daniel. Of course he ghosted me too, so whatever. It's okay, only Dan I need treats vampires. I laughed so hard when he said that, and just when I thought I couldn't love his character more, he goes and gets a Hawaiian pizza, my favorite! And he knows it's from my country. Awesome.

      I've also been on more of a Nightwish kick than usual, looking up Floor's live performances, and damn! Her version of Sleeping Sun is gorgeous. And Ghost Love Score, which I've probably heard 30 times this week. Oohhh, a Chicago Med Nightwish video.

      I think I'll queue up the next episode and grab my pop. Dan has a stalker, apparently. It's not me, I love him in a safe way. I mean, an intense way, but safe. I know it's a show and I just want to keep her away from him. 😂 But he makes it to the end, I know it. I had to know it; without him the show would be, meh, okay. Who would deliver the blood bank line without him?

      And he's so composed. The only time he smiles is when he's looking a psychopath in the eyes. Probably trying to communicate, I don't know. I'm not a shrink. I actually hate shrinks, but I've made an exception. I'd love it if he did me. Evaluated me.

      I like Maggie next best, then Halstead, then Natalie―although she annoys the hell out of me. Not because she's annoying, but because she is too nice. I guess her worst quality is that she wonders if she's rude, an "ice queen." She can't get any sweeter, and she's shopping for honey. She reminds me that I'm not too nice anymore.

      But Maggie...wow. Choi is a hardass. He's a military man, his punch knocked a man across the room, he's actually pretty scary. He kept telling Maggie to "clear" and she kept hanging onto the patient's arm, looking him right in the eyes, not flinching, to honor the patient's wishes. I liked her almost immediately, but now she's awesome.

      Oh, yeah! Right. Next episode. Okay. NOW.

      Edit (2:45): Halstead's a Checkers player! These are my people!!

...

       I just got caught up on The Ones Who Live. Rick and Michonne walk by a spinning display shelf and for just one second, I could see his name. Seriously? I took a break from Chicago Med to get away from it. It's one of two reasons, actually; I wanted to see Judith and Rick reunite. Turns out, no big deal. Could have been, if it was done better. That RJ kid sounded like a zombie. "I just believed." Yaaawwn.
      Thinking of deleting my chat with the guy. I thought we had some good times, but apparently it was all in my head. Might go OTR in the end after all. I stuck around for him and my female friend, both of whom just...let me down.

    I don't know why I bother. Guess I'll just live for music. And dreams. I actually had a really cool one; I met this German guy―I never actually learned the language, but it sounded pretty damn good in my head. He spoke English but he still had this awesome accent... Go, brain.

People SUCK!

       What the actual hell is happening? People trying to poop in our driveway, or lighting intentional fires. That's bad enough. But turns out I can't rely on anyone, not even for a simple favor on Facebook. All I wanted from her was to compare our experiences in the same group and she didn't even have to click on anything, just think for a moment: Am I able make a post? Or do we both have to answer their questions every time before my comments are approved, which they never were?

      Seriously, I've answered their questions 20 times and nothing I've said has been published. What is everybody else doing right? Why is nobody on the entire planet acknowledging me, except the one guy I don't want acknowledging me since he commented on my boobs?

      Let's see. I won't mention names here, but I count...give me a moment...five important people who ghosted me after letting me think we were friends, my dad who walked out on us shortly after I was born, and a bevy of people who I just hung around because, well, we were kids and it was easier back then. Even losing them hurt. I had some good memories with those kids; learning how to play Tarzan, playing with the stray cats, playing Marco Polo in a pitch-black bedroom because I couldn't swim.

      It's always been me picking up the phone. Never them. They say they'll meet me downtown, stand me up. Say they'll come to my birthday party, stand me up. Tell me they'll never stand me up and fucking stand me up. I'm a nice person, so why do they keep doing this? Is it my face? The slump of my shoulders? My height perhaps! Or is it them―all of them―everyone else―every time? Never me, not me at all? Do all people suck, or am I just encountering all the sucky ones?

      It may be glaringly obvious that I'm single again. For about a year now, and I still feel like I've lost a limb. I didn't do anything wrong, I know that. My actions were just fine. He didn't want to say good-night, I sat in a rock-hard chair on my hemorrhoids for 24 hours straight talking to him. He said he wanted a month of space and I gave him ten. Ten! At which point I got dumped for missing him and wanting to talk more. Whatever. Ass. I got so tired of my family calling me a pushover.

      I gave him space when he wanted it. Gave him friendship when he needed it. Loved him. Still do, because I'm an idiot! I feel shattered. Burned. I actually blocked him. Not because I wanted to, but because I didn't want to keep looking at his name. Seeing it every day broke me all over again. The stupid part is, getting rid of his name didn't make me feel any better. Of course, maybe that's because of how many people there are with the same name in Chicago Med! Like they know, and want me to suffer for watching it.

     A lot of people have hit on me online over the years. For 29 years, I mastered pushing them away and feeling no grief. Then for this guy I let my guard down. Bam! Ended up feeling what I swore I never would. What am I supposed to do now―start all over again? I have the sneaky suspicion pushing people away will be harder now.

      I was such an idiot. Should have pushed him away, too.

    Here I am fretting over the wallet I lost because of the pictures inside. And why? It's just a picture of my dad, who didn't want me, and a childhood friend, who doesn't want me. Said we would talk "later that day." Here we are...eight years later. She moved, didn't tell me. Wouldn't even look at me when I attended the birthday party of the sister I didn't know she had. I ended up ducking out without saying goodbye. To think I got all dressed up. Those pictures should mean as little to me as I meant to them. I should rip them up and throw out the pieces. But no. Stupidly I want to turn my room upside-down and find the little bit of those people I'm left with.

      All I can do is sit here and be jealous of their ability to escape whatever's wrong with me. And applaud their refined taste.

More Dreams

       I had an interesting "nap" earlier―and by nap, I mean finally getting to sleep around noon. Whatever, I got some sleep. Doesn't matter when it happens, as long as it happens.

      It was about...celebrities! Ta-da. Actually, a whole mess of celebrities; specifically, the cast of Lucifer. And my stepfather, if his poorly-written, completely unedited, one-review book published in 2006 makes him a celebrity. There we were, in this gigantic room filled with all the demons. I'm trying to enjoy myself, and along comes my stepdad to ruin it like always. I look at him and tell him, "All these demons... Happier than you."

      It was nice. They were all dancing and laughing. My subconscious probably drummed up a cheerful after-party, instead of the one Ella botched. Well, she and Rory, not that I can actually blame either one. Hah!

      Much better than what else I dreamt during my "nap;" about an old, frail-looking man who was actually immortal. Cops were stor-ming the place, kids were being taken, and bullets were just bouncing off this little man's chest. Compared to the stuff I usually dream―not a nightmare! But still, an old, bearded man. Really? Couldn't he at least have...concealed stuff?

     Ah. Anyway. Binged some more Chicago Med when it let me. Stopped after a riveting episode where Ethan is nearly dead from cyanide poisoning after, stupidly, tackling an assailant with a can. The toxin floods the entire department, Charles and Natalie are stuck in the elevator with a pregnant woman. He peers past the elevator doors, recognizes they're in the old NICU, so he rips these fucking steel doors open like it's nothing. He's a big guy, so it doesn't look stupid. Takes a phony phone call when he can't get a signal to help Natalie give an emergency C-section―which apparently she's never done as a pediatric physician? Hello?

      Natalie goes to thank the doctor Charles pretended to call, finds out she was never in conference with him, and starts shouting at him. He barely reacts, showing her the mother playing with her newborn. I mean, what was he supposed to do? "Uh, sorry, ladies. We're stuck down here with no signal, so go ahead and panic. It won't accomplish anything, but...gosh. I don't see a choice."

    Every episode lately, they're yelling at the guy. Kind of un-professional, and that doesn't make anyone a better person. Not to mention he's the best one, so kindly lay off. 😏

      Oh, damn. I keep putting aside the new Walking Dead for Chi-cago. I mean, Walking Dead sucks now, but I suppose I owe it to the series to watch the two episodes that are left. Meanwhile season 9 episode 8 of CM is on its merry way, not to mention it's connected to Chicago Fire and Chicago PD! It's so weird seeing Chloe Decker and Robert Chase fighting fires. Actually I started with Med, because it's doctors... I don't actually know if they share one scene, but appar-ently she does not appear in Chicago Med. Kinda bummed about that. They killed her off, so she probably never will. Anyway, not gonna lie, it's, bleh, weird! Every time Casey talks, I have to tell myself, "It's his twin, he's identical. He never was a doctor, he never married Cameron, he never wore a doctor's coat or cut someone open; it's not Robert Chase."

     Doesn't do any good, I mean... But he's Australian. Keep the accent! You want an American? Hire one, come on. Let him be an Aussie. 😛

Dreambabble

     I recently had a dream where my family and I rolled up our pantlegs and waded into this lake, and it was so cold it was like it was cutting through my bones.
      A more recent dream was when I was in this cafeteria-type place with a couple of my aunts, of whom I don't think I've ever dreamt before, and true to my real self, I want chicken in my dream. I get up to the counter and I place an order for chicken strips, or at least I try to. The guy behind the counter doesn't know what I mean. After repeating myself several times over, I say, "Do you know what chicken is? Because I'll have that."

    Takes my order, no problem, but I'm apologizing to him for my rudeness wondering if he'll spit in my food. He's laughing, though.

     I love dreaming of celebrities. It's happened a lot. House, The Big Bang Theory, The Walking Dead, Fresh Prince, even animated movies combining with games I play. Or it's all original but I am a cartoon. It's so weird when that happens. But yeah, in my dreams, I say things that I wouldn't in real life; kind of makes me wonder if I'm actually rude, deep down.

      Thank goodness for filters. 🤷🏼‍♀️

!!!

       Another episode, another House similarity. A female patient who is discovered to have a split personality with her younger self because of trauma. I think this one sort of trumps digging up a dead cat... which I'm still not ruling out.

I Really Hate Titles

       Still binging on Chicago Med. I think I'm going to see it all the way through, even though it's getting on my nerves a little...and I'm not even talking about the episode I just saw called Lock It Down where the hospital was locked down because of a missing baby...just like House. Actually I think I saw two more House characters, too.

      But yeah, it is getting annoying. Used to be the characters would all mingle. Now they pass each other in the hallway talking to the same character they always talk to. Daniel and Sarah, Natalie and Will, Connor and Ava, Ethan and April, Maggie and Sharon. Some-times, sometimes, Sharon will talk to Dan. Even less frequently Connor talks to Will. But I can't remember when last April talked to Sharon, or Natalie talked to Sarah, or Ava talked to, well, anybody else. Several episodes back Ethan and Natalie were called onto the same scene, but apart from that, they've basically gone their sep-arate ways. Sarah talks to Daniel about exposure therapy and her dad. Connor and Ava alternate constantly between fighting and flirting. Sharon is always telling Maggie that she's in trouble...

      I'm just waiting for a girls' night. Maybe Sharon goes out with Connor for crying out loud. Maybe Natalie asks how April's doing with her TB already! I've compared Daniel to James Wilson, who always acts as House's conscience. When did Wilson talk to Hadley, or Taub, or Kutner? He barely even speaks to Cameron. I recall two times; when she thought she needed to look for another job, and when she was getting ready for her date with House. But Chicago Med is a medical show, too...so how about a differential? Natalie and Will have a heated argument, and Sharon has the whole staff gather to discuss. Or they're talking about Maggie's actions. Something, any-thing, that makes them, I don't know, converse. Can't they just say hi to each other? Nod at each other in the hallway? They're passing each other all the time... Freaking look at each other.

      Still, superior to Nurse Jackie―what isn't?―and so far I think I could give it 8/10 stars. I'll see it all the way through and, maybe, even watch it again. Hell, I'd consider buying it, if I had money. I'm comfortable with the cast and I'm even fond of some of them. I was watching it on the TV for awhile because my headphones were dying. Now the TV is being replaced and I have new headphones, which work great...but the sound cuts out from them, too, so I don't know what the fuck's going on.

      And as an update, shortly after the leaky pipes in the bathroom were fixed, the tap exploded. Then a stove element wouldn't shut off. My family's decided not to even tell the landlord, we'll just call the handyman and pay for it ourselves so that shit actually gets done around here. I'm good with that. Really, I'm just waiting for the toilet to come out of the wall.

...

      "The crazy guy out front who thinks he's Jesus." Seriously? Another similarity between Nurse Jackie and Chicago Med―and I counted two patients from Chicago who were also House patients. I mean, granted, they are all medical dramas...how unique could they be? All these places, all these people. Only a couple handfuls of situations we can be in. Characters have even played the same song on the same instrument.
      And nobody sane thinks he's Jesus. Shocker; that's why they're on meds. What next, somebody's going to throw a bottle and hit this guy, too? No dead cats yet, but I'm kind of waiting for it. If I wrote a book about a guy with huge metal claws who got in a car accident and ended up falling for a telekinetic redhead, you think I could get rich?

      I'm just glad these doctors and nurses aren't addicts. Although one of the doctors did just discover she has a serious disease, so there's that. But at least April was blindsided, instead of knowing she was at risk and just trying to hide. I liked Thirteen and I liked her rationalization on the matter; but if they were both trying to hide and pretend, it would be completely crazy.

      I've got another episode queued up, and maybe I'll watch the latest episode of The Ones Who Live, too. I slept earlier and it's still so early that I can squeeze it in and still get some....uh, "sleep." Really just a metaphor for "lying there reluctant to face life while spiraling into a horrifying mess of personal shit."

      It's pithier. 😆

A New Something New

      Now that I'm done with Nurse Jackie (woohoo!!) I'm trying to find something else to fixate on―which is weird, because I have a Friends marathon going. It's an episode I'm not particularly fond of, and instead of skipping it or just getting it over with, it's like I'm trying to watch everything else in the world. Then I tell myself I'll watch it tonight, tomorrow. Doesn't happen. It's been so long I'm contem-plating just...quitting.

      So now I've started watching Chicago Med. There's already a Zoey in it, along with a bunch of House similarities I've gleaned just from watching clips on YouTube and seeing them on the list―like the supermodel who wasn't all female, the locked-in syndrome, a gunman in the hospital, a child molester, a doctor fighting for his life, a doctor committing suicide, a doctor performing self-surgery, a patient thinking he's in a simulation, a patient with extreme altruism as a symptom... If they have to dig up a dead cat, I'm quitting.

      Which reminds me, there was actually a patient in Nurse Jackie named Jules. I liked her, although her introduction was bizarre. After entering the hospital screaming that she had been shot, the doctors decide, "She's not shot...she's just pregnant." Turns out she wasn't, she just had tumors. I liked when she told the doctors what their names were. You could finally see an emotion other than anger on her face.

    I just wrote a huge block of text, clicked Publish, and got auto-matically logged out. Lost it all. I don't feel like rewriting it. Anyway, there's a new leak in the house; we can hear squishing when we walk down the hall and the floor's all bubbled up. As part of his endeavor to fix it, the repairman cut a huge hole into my brother's bedroom wall and now he can see into the bathroom, can you believe that? I thought the hole in my wall was bad, and I couldn't see outside at all.

      I feel like there are no good handymen. Wondering if there are good landlords, too. I hope so.

....Wow.

       I just went through all the transcripts of Nurse Jackie. My source left out ten episodes, but I still gathered 348 times they used the word "fucking." It really makes the characters sound immature. It was said 70 times in just season one.

      That's ridiculous. They might as fucking well be fucking talking like this, for fucking fucksakes! Yeah, see what I mean, how annoying that is? I mean, when they get into a fight, I can't even take them seriously. It really does sound like it was written by a bunch of teenagers whose parents died, and they finally felt free and went overboard.

      To each their own, I guess, but I'll never understand how this show can be anyone's favorite. The most popular phrase in House MD is "jerked around." But I bet it wasn't used to that extent!

Done!

    Finally, done watching Nurse Jackie. Cripes. I am not putting myself through that again; my two-star review is generous as hell. I've actually said that about a one-star review before; we should have the freedom to give it as many as five stars or a thumbs down instead.
    I published a review saying that instead of the way it is, Dr. Aka-litus should have been the adoptive mother to Grace; and Jackie Peyton should have been a cameo, somebody mentioned once or twice like her name left a bad taste in the mouth because she was the bitch who abandoned her baby. That's how much I hate her. The good news is, the writers left her fate up to the viewer, so in my mind, she dies and only a handful of people go to the funeral. But all they can talk about is how she performed at work. She's not a mom, not a wife, not even a person outside the hospital. Kevin doesn't say anything. Grace and Fiona don't say anything. Gloria mentions how she encouraged her to call her son, but otherwise was a plague on her life.

      Screen goes black to the sound of silence, boom.

    Not many more similarities to other shows. Like in House MD's episode Unwritten, there is a woman Helen whose real name is believed to be Alice; and in Nurse Jackie, there is a Helen who also uses a different name. In my experience, coincidences are much less likely than someone ripping you off.

     And that's it. There may be more similarities, I mean, but now that I'm finished with the show, I'm going to forget them....I hope. Obviously I like Grace and Gloria, but they deserved better. Hell― Thor deserved better. Hell, even Zoey deserved better!

      Feels so good to be done. I never have to look at Jackie again.

I Hate TITLES

       I dreamt about The Walking Dead again. Negan and Rick were hanging out by the tree where Rick cut him, and Negan insulted him; unfortunately my stupid brain doesn't know what he said. Then he was with Carol, who mockingly sang one of his lines to him. I think it was probably, "Half of what you own belongs to me," but I can't really remember that either. Then, because of his evolution, he said something like, "Shit, I just fucking died a little."

I Hate Titles

       I really, seriously hate Jackie. Whenever I watch the show, I just want to reach through my screen and punch her. Grace, her kid, is 11 years old and freaked about turning into a psycopath. She's having constant nightmares, pulling out her own hair, locking herself away, having a meltdown if her pencil breaks. More cringy stuff like that. What's Jackie's solution? Gobble up all the pills prescribed for her kid.
      We're all in pain. I'm in pain, my family's in pain, I can't throw a rock and not hit someone in pain. You suck it up, you deal with it, you don't steal medication. Not from your child, not from your patient, not from a random stranger in the middle of a seizure.

      That was one of two episodes I watched today. Also, Jackie has a boyfriend on the side; not to mention she will kiss an enemy on the lips. She has a double or a triple private life. Her husband admits to an affair and she tells him to pack his bags.

      Thank goodness for the other characters. They are the only reason I've gotten to season 4. I do like Gloria. She's by-the-book, she's a hardass, then she turns off a switch and dances for a baby.

      Gloria's awesome. I like Jackie's kids, I'm starting to feel for Kevin. Never liked Zoey, and I like Thor a little less since he began to sing. But I'm also a little anti-life, turns out. Who saw that coming?

      But more similarities are the episode with both a Carl, and a Walker; and in House MD, there's a kid named Walker. In an episode with a missing baby. The baby Gloria dances for, well, he's not missing, but his parents are.

      I think the worst part about this show is how Jackie can do anything she wants without repercussion. I mean, yeah, she's on probation right now. But her friend realizes that she's been taking her child's meds, shrugs it off, gives Jackie more meds. Everybody bends the rules, everybody tiptoes around her, everybody gives her meds.

      I like House. But the thing is, everybody knows who and what House is. They know about his addiction. He's a jerk, yes. But he owns up to it. He's an addict, yes. But there are actually conse-quences. He actually goes to court, he goes to jail, he goes to rehab, and people actually refuse to give him drugs. Sure, he took med-ication from a dead guy once, but when he saw that mother strangling her baby, his first thought wasn't, "I'm going to steal her meds while no one's looking at me." The guy dropped his cane and fucking ran to the bedside just as fast as a person with two good legs.

      When I first started watching Nurse Jackie, I thought I could do a crossover. But that wouldn't be interesting. The doctors in House have some scruples. Jackie chewed gum she had pushed down the drain trying to rescue a pill, she took pills she had stuffed in her socks for a full shift, and this might be a goof, but when she was washing her hands, she didn't grab the soap. She didn't turn on the water. No way would House let that slide.

      Edit (15th at 4 AM): Wow. Another Mr. Decker, and Zoey was called Chloe. This shit's getting too weird! 😂

My New New Low

       Yesterday I woke up long enough to have dinner. I went back to bed afterward. Didn't sleep, of course, gave up two hours later. Going through this whole ugly breakup thing, during which I waited ten months, now. Pretty sure I don't matter at all, even to my "best friend."

      Here, I'm a damn ghost. If someone knocks on the door, it's always, "Is this person around? What about that person?" It's never, "Hey, Kimberly! Here's what's going on. Tell them when you see them."

      It's never even hello. I've lived here eight years and I don't know if these people know my name. Not that any of them are likeable, and I'm seriously starting to wonder if anyone is. Hell, maybe I'm to blame for that, too!

      It doesn't help that everyone I know says they respect me. If they did, they would not call me Kim; I've asked them a billion times not to. I'm not a Kardashian, I'm not the war-mongering dictator of North Korea. It's two more syllables. If you're that unbelievably lazy, use my middle name. Fucksakes.

New

       I want something new to care about, so I'm watching Nurse Jackie. It's very interesting―not that she's perfect; actually I find her to be hypocritical and shockingly unsanitary for a nurse. But I'm getting into it, and I've noticed a LOT of weird stuff. I'm only nearing the end of season 2 and there are similarities between it and Lucifer as well as House MD.
      The Walking Dead elements are the actor and actress, Seth Gilliam and Merritt Wever, respectively (and obviously); as well as the characters Connie, Lucille, Rick, and Sam. The Lucifer elements are that the title character always calls her daughter Monkey and even-tually meets a visitor named, hold onto your hats, John freaking Decker, people! John freaking Decker, I almost choked on my pizza! And in reference to House MD, we've got ourselves one blue-eyed healthcare worker with an addiction to Vicodin, and one episode called Sleeping Dogs. Granted, in House it was Sleeping Dogs lie, but still, it counts. Whoo!
      Oh, speaking of Whoo! she totally sounds like Dory. Looks kind of like her, too!
      The site I watch it on is not totally behaving lately; I have to F5 a shitload of times and sometimes I actually get lucky. But I do look forward to finding all the other similarities. Oh, one similarity it has to The Big Bang Theory is a Dr. Cooper, who is obsessed with Twitter; and much like Dr. Taub, he gets his face up on a poster representing the hospital. And just like House, Jackie intentionally smashes her own finger. He did it to block pain and she did it to explain her broken wedding ring, but wow. Season 2, episode 3, House speaks Spanish; season 2, episode 5, Jackie does.
      I know. John Decker and the monkey thing are the biggest ones. All this, and I'm not even on season 2. Oh, Lucifer and Nurse Jackie both include a man claiming to be God. I think my favorite part so far in NJ is when some guy on the street is walking along, minding his own business, this crazy God guy starts yelling at him from the fourth floor, so he picks up a beer bottle from the trash receptacle and throws it, nails him in the head. I know I should have been appalled, but I was just thinking, you know... "Good shot." Then stupid Zoey goes and ruins his recovery, "Maybe you're like Jesus, yell at people again, do it, insult them, you're so good at it!" I mean shut up. Dude was getting back to normal; your job is to expedite recovery, not stand in its way.
      I'm getting into the show―but I hate the people. Know what I mean?

A Hot Mess

       Well, that was a disaster. I finally got all the strawberries de-leafed, rinsed them, got my smoothie all ready, and the blender wouldn't blend. So I was shaking it a little, and I turned it over too far and the lid came off. Berries, berries, everywhere! Not just berries, but the puréed mush, too. And I was sharing the sink with an old tobacco can of dirty cutlery with soap bubbles. I really didn't want to have a greasy, soapy smoothie, so I threw the berries back into the blender, rinsed off all the gunk, and disposed of them. I don't know why I rinsed trash. I don't know why I date papers I know I'm throwing away, but I do. It's just something I have to do.

Retardo's

       I tried ordering pizza recently. I've done it a lot, but this time I got a new guy, who had the audacity to say, "You sound too robotic" and hang up on me. In a nutshell, my brother's friend works there and he put in a complaint.

Sans Nom

      So, that happened. My mother just informed me that "People have kids so the kids can do all the work." Um, no, no, no. That's why cruel people have kids, and that is a level of cruelty I can't even fathom. No―people have kids because they want a family, or....the condom broke, or they forgot the pill, or they were under some stupid impression like you can't get knocked up the first time you have sex.

      I don't know if she was joking or not, but regardless, if she was it was a horrible joke. So, what, she has kids to make them suffer. Give them the burden. None of us asked to be alive and we are the only species in the galaxy stupid enough to pay to have this burden. You don't want to die, fine, but don't act like I should be grateful to be here.

Not Good With Titles

       I may be over all that. And I might not be. Anyway, I had to blog about my dreams! There was one where I'd been given the impression that I was attending a video conference, so I put on my new fuzzy pajama pants underneath what, in retrospect, appeared to be a tuxedo top. I open the door and step into a room filled with all the presidents, and I'm supposed to walk past every single guest and go up onstage, I still don't know why. So there's Trump, of all people, laughing at me, my fuzzy pants, and my furry slippers.

      Yeah, bizarre. Not a nightmare, though, so I'll take it. I'd like to reject the dream where I'm walking and walking and walking, with no place to go, no destination in mind. Then I start passing out, and fading into and out of consciousness. Total strangers were picking me up and trying to keep me moving.

      I also dreamt I was holding the paw of an injured wildcat, and of course it dug its paws into my palm. I could feel it, too.

      The worst of the bunch was, my brother showed me a video rec-ently of a rollercoaster gone wrong. Just like in that episode of 6teen, they go up the loop-de-loop, someone pukes, and it splatters everyone when they come zooming back around. And, oh, god, the sound. Well, I dreamt that I was running and running, or crawling on my belly between a fence and really low branches, whatever it took. It was like the zombie apocalypse, but instead of being undead zombies, everyone was alive and had the flu. Their main goal, it seems, was to spread that virus. They wanted to touch me, puke on me, breathe on me, spit on me, whatever it took to make me ill; and I could hear that retching sound from the video in my dream.

      I seemed to make it, so....

     Lot of fucking weird dreams. Negan in the planetarium, or I'm a bat (the "I want to suck your blood" kind, not the Lucille kind, which would definitely contain some serious face time), the maze of RVs that all look identical and I'm supposed to find mine. The one where I'm Brooke Nevin wandering around in a spaceship, and then I find my (not her) mother, who's only finger-big, so I tuck her in my pocket.

     I could probably sleep right now. Actually, lately, I've been sleeping pretty well. Maybe it's my fuzzy pajama pants. Or maybe it's the hot chocolate I've been drinking. Don't know! Last time I tried it, it sent me to the hospital, so I swore it off; a few hours ago, I find out it was home-made with Coffee Mate. Hello? I have a delicate stomach, I do not experiment like that.

     It was an eight-pack I got over the holidays. So far I only really like the double chocolate and the marshmallow flavors. It's kind of unfortunate that I went all this time thinking I was allergic to the real stuff, but oh well. Think I'll shop around for more sometime, esp-ecially if I find out that is the reason I'm sleeping better.

      One book out of four is going okay. One of those, I haven't touched in years. Ironically it's one people seem to like. I just don't care for it, so I might submit one last chapter only to announce that it's been dropped.

      Anyway. Snowing like a bugger now. I might be able to stay home tomorrow. Well, more like in four hours and 45 minutes. Whatev.

      ....Er. I can never get away with that. Maybe it says something about not having commitment issues.

OTR

       I think I'm going to wait a week, two if I feel generous; then delete my Facebook account. I'm just so tired of waiting on people, giving them chances. It's not flattering when they fall asleep in the middle of a conversation. It's not flattering when they'd rather play a videogame. It's not flattering to know I've wasted, let's see, nine months and twelve hours waiting, waiting, waiting.

      I miss the girl I was. No third chance, no emotions. I know most people want to be progressive and move forward. I just want to go back...

      So, I just spent the past half hour checking all my apps, to see if I require a Facebook account to use them. I think I'm in the clear. I only have to check Steam, and I will, once it lets me log out so I can actually see the login method. Look at that, even a program has me waiting.

    Seriously? Fuck my life. I'm also thinking of deleting my dev-iantART account too, finally. Going completely off the radar. Nobody important to me is talking to me, so seriously, what's the point? I may not believe I ever had a higher purpose, but I know damn well, I wasn't put here so other people can break my heart as much as they want.

      All I wanted, in the entire freaking world, was one friend. That's it, one friend who wouldn't make me wait! Who wouldn't abandon me, wouldn't ghost me and turn me away. It's ridiculous; rich people can get away with asking for money; but on every planet in every galaxy, no friends. I didn't even do anything wrong. Well, no, I've done shitloads wrong, but not to them. I've done nothing of relevance wrong. Hell, maybe it's the gifts I gave them that pushed them away. And, sis, if you're reading this, seriously, upload some pictures or send me my camera back; it's been five years!

      Nah. Who am I kidding? The Internet's a big place. It requires room in one's world. You know what, break my camera like you broke yours, I don't care anymore. I'm just done. I might as well go hunt down my knife and prove it. It's the only scenario that cheers me up anyway.

The Good, The Bad, The Geeky

       Today was...wow. I'm torn, really. On the one hand, we have the good; the shower was finally fixed, after two years of waiting. You, my seemingly nonexistent readers, wouldn't even believe it. But let me ease you in. The shower faucet began to leak straight hot water, and as time passed, it deteriorated due to our landlord's neglect. More time, more water. The ceiling was so saturated, it was raining in the bathroom. If you were at the sink, if you were on the potty, if you were in the shower, you were getting splashed on...sometimes on the shoulder, sometimes in the eye, sometimes where the sun don't shine. Unless you're nudists. The walls were crying. There was an instance or two it had begun to flood, and we had to wade through it and mop the ceiling before we mopped the floor. Even the kitchen windows were steamy from the heat, making us hang curtains to try and cool off the kitchen. You know, before we baked. My brother went back and forth in the cold to use a shower in a vacant unit so many times that he actually caught a bit of a cold; and my family, sleeping on the wrong side of the curtain, was worried they would get pneumonia.

      Absolutely ridiculous. There is so much mold, there is a possi-bility we may have to go to a hotel again.

      I reiterate, the faucet has been repaired. Bad news, now the toilet refills very slowly and screams the entire time; and the shower faucet has almost no pressure. Do you have any idea how agonizing it is to try and rinse bodywash out of your tub with practically no water? Well, probably not. Hopefully not.

      So that's basically the good and the bad. Now, as promised, the geeky. Here's where you'll probably click away; not many people will care that my brother used his phone to give me VIP access in Avakin Life. Now I have body shapes, exclusive access, and other neat stuff. I upgraded my girl and love her new look. Also, I have been working extra-hard to gain a type of currency in a different game, and now only have two more characters to unlock. Probably not many players who can say they will soon own everything. Best of all...actually, no. The VIP thing is the best of all. Next best, I immortalized my favorite Sims 3 family ever! Translation, I can play them even if my computer dies and I lose everything. Again.

      Oh, and I found Swiss rolls. Finally! They said they no longer make them, but they do. I bought a pack and look forward to my treat... One of a few, it seems.

      Now I should go. I took a sleeping pill around nine, became a VIP member right afterward and the night kinda got away from me. 😂