Something Got Into My Pants And Bit Me

I had this itch on my butt, so I looked in the mirror and I have all these bumps, especially one large one. They look like bug bites. Or spider bites. Ick. This was a very relaxing Christmas this year. We saw Gramma for a while. She wasn't her best today. She was sitting in her wheelchair in her room, and she looked up at Mom, and said, "You scare me.....................you scare me." She looks over at me, "She scares me." Mom was quite taken aback, as any daughter would be when her elderly mother says that she scares her. I thought it was about the funniest thing in the world. I couldn't stop laughing. The relaxers in Mom's hair are starting to wear off so her hair is somewhat curly. It reminds me of Janis Joplin's. I picked up a lock of hair, and directed to Gramma, "Does this scare you?" "Yes." I laughed more, and Dad's cracking up. Gramma of course doesn't understand why we're laughing, and I'm not sure that she really notices. We brought her salmon. She doesn't have much use of her arms when it comes to eating, or anything else for that matter, so she asked Mom to feed her. I guess the fear subsided. I was about to offer, but thought that Mom should feed her - have that bonding moment with her. I know mom's fed her many times before, but she doesn't see her enough, and when she does she keeps herself busy by talking to nurses, putting Gramma's clean clothes away and emptying the hamper full of dirty ones, watering her plants, doing everything except just sitting down with her. But then, many days Mom calls Gramma to see how she's doing and asks the nurses about her. I never seem to have the patience to talk with her on the phone. I tell myself that I'll go see her tomorrow. But as I learned, we don't have tomorrow.

I think it was yesterday that we watched this commercial about Crohn's. Mom said that her doctor told her that her ulcerative colitis will, or most likely will, turn into Crohn's, which is terminal. That's how my sister's uncle died (on her mother's side of the family). I pretty expected that, and I felt barely anything. I know that this disease will kill my mother, and I don't feel anything. What kind of person am I? Why have I not felt close to her at all for so many years? I think it really started when I was 14. Maybe that was it. I was still somewhat close to her when I was 13. Not really though. But 14 is when she got so depressed. Well, no, she got depressed before that too, because she was in the hospital. I had to take care of her so much when I was 14, and I resented that. I resented having to wake her up by yelling at her, and pulling the blankets off her to rouse her from her drunken coma. I resented when she asked me to pick out clothes for her to wear that day. I resented making her lunch and keep telling her to hurry up. I resented going to bed at night not knowing if my mother was going to be alive when I woke up the next morning. But I refused to stay up with her all night. She's not my responsibility. So, if she's not my responsibility, or parents aren't supposed to be their children's responsibility, then why do so many children take care of their parents? Because that's what you're supposed to do? Your parents take care of you when you come into the world, and you take care of your parents when they're going out? Or have I gotten used to death? It doesn't scare me. It doesn't scare me to think of loved ones dying. I know they will. So what's the use fighting it?

I just finished watching this Christmas romantic comedy. It was quite funny, up until the end. The mother's cancer came back and she didn't have much time left. She was there throughout the entire movie, and at the end it moved onto the next Christmas, and she was gone. It was like a Steel Magnolias cemetary scene moment, except Shirley MacLaine and Olympia Ducacus didn't come to the rescue to make me laugh again. That's what got me thinking about death. We went over to our neighbor's this evening to give her a gift Mom made, that turned out quite pretty. Her mother passed away about two weeks ago. I mentioned her in a previous post. She was fine one moment, and dead the next. She was 94, though.

Sometimes I don't want to die. I don't want to think about my own death - that I will someday be dead. Sometimes I can't wait to die and be rid of this world. I don't really know how I feel right now, as my fingers press the keys. I'm not scared, but I can wait.

"So this is Christmas, and what have we done? Another year over, a new one just begun."

Am I a prude?

Sometimes I think I'm going to grow into an old spinster. Sometimes I feel like an old spinster. I seem to find fault with any guy who isn't Diego, except for one, but I won't go there right now. And it's not like there's been that many in the past few years. Certainly not like when I was 17. There was a guy at this bar I went to, but decided I really wasn't that interested. He said something that put me off, and I don't even remember what it is. My sister said I should give him a try, but I'm just not interested. And we were all pretty schnockered. Especially my parents, of course. That's when I walked home from the casino, where the bar was. Selina said that I should give him a chance, and take alcohol into account.

Then there was Jason, that I used to work with. I had a huge crush on him and we flirted shamelessly in the office, but I was going out with Joe. We ran into each other at a speed dating event, of all things! Have I already told this story? Well, anyway, after some talking, I realized that he was totally self-absorbed and expected me to make all the effort, so I literally told him to fuck off and that was the end of that.

Last Saturday was my best friend's birthday party. The last of us were pretty drunk. An old flame of hers was there, and we talked a bit throughout the evening. One time we were alone in a room, and he tried to kiss me! It was like, "Whoa, buddy. Not so fast." It's not like Christina would care. She even said that maybe he and I would get really drunk and make out, but I like to think that I'm better than making out with this guy in my best friend's house at her birthday party. I like to think of it as self-respect, but maybe I'm being too prudish. I'm not attracted to him, and it turned me off that he would do that to a friend and old flame of his. He also currently lives on his parents' couch and he's in his 30's. That doesn't mean that I can't have a little fun with him, but I'm just not interested.

Now there's this guy who found me on FB, who was basically a fuck buddy in my college days at EdCC, Mike. Earlier this week he said he wanted to get together in the next few days to go to a movie and dinner, but then he never set up a time (typical male). So, I texted him asking him what he was up to. He said, "Too bad you don't have a car or I'd invite you over for movies." Somehow that put me off. Then I remembered that he lives an hour away, and that really put me off, that he expects I'm going to drive an hour to see him for some movies, and then drive home? It may be the next morning, but that's beside the point. I asked if he could meet half way to see a movie (like he suggested), but his roommate, Jen, rented a movie and got dinner, so he was busy. That also put me off. A while later he sent, "You should come down and give me a massage, lol. I could really use one." Now, I realize that this was a joke, but it still totally turned me off. Like I'm going to drive an hour to give your ass a massage? I'm also a bit nervous about seeing him because I'm a good 45-50 lbs heavier than the last time he saw me, and may be totally turned off by my fat.

Am I being too defensive? Will I become an old spinster who lives with her cats? Speaking of which, this is a picture of Pearl & Presley. I realized that I will probably have them until I'm in my mid-forties, which is a sobering thought. I don't really want to have more than two cats at once, so I won't be able to adopt any for probably 20 years. But I love them and will be happy with them. I just would like to save more kitties, but I have to think of the kitties I already have.

As I was just finishing this, Christina called to tell me she got officially engaged tonight. Now that I focus on being alone...I feel....lonely....

Tomorrow Never Happens, Part II

The reason why I titled my last blog "Tomorrow Never Happens" is that I wanted to communicate that we don't always have tomorrow, like I didn't with Debbie. I thought I had time. I thought she had time. Now she's gone. Many great people have said, "Live today like it will be your last. Someday it will be." How would you feel about yourself if you didn't wake up tomorrow? Would you be satisfied that your last day was productive, you felt emotion, you did something for yourself? Or would you be disappointed that you dragged yourself to a job that you loathed, laid on the couch and watch tv and ate a mediocre dinner? How did we get to a point when we don't have time to live? You don't need money to live, although it helps. By live, I mean experience.

I visited my gramma yesterday and she said, "When it was raining so much I thought of you."

"Why would you think of me?"

"I thought of you walking in the rain."

I gave a wry smile and said, "It's refreshing."

"Oh, I don't mind."

I encourage all people to take a walk in the rain, best in the woods, but even if you can go to a nearby park. Or just walk around the block. Go out and get a tattoo. I've like tattoos for as long as I can remember. I'm still fascinated by them. I have yet to make a consulting appointment with the artist I want to do my next tattoo; my Forever 27 tattoo. I have tomorrow, right? Sometimes, I waiver a bit. I wonder if I really want it. I definitely want to get another tattoo, but sometimes I wonder if I want it to symbolize the Forever 27 Club. Right now I do. Janis, Jimi, Jim, Brian, and Curt. Forever young and forever beautiful.

I watch the flame of the candle by my computer, casting its glow on my buddha statue candle holder. It was an inexpensive, unneeded object I bought at Cost Plus, but I love it. He's so serene. I think of women who set out on journeys, alone, not knowing exactly where they'll end up, and usually with very little money. I think it's very brave. A couple of them journeyed 30 years ago. I think the world was so different back then, that it can't be done like that now - just up and leave, unless you have money so you know you'll have shelter and food. But maybe I'm wrong. I know a girl who is a professional campaigner who moves from city to city with no "home base." She just goes where campainging needs to be done. Everything she owns fits in her car. She sleeps on an air bed. I think that would be hard, but an incredible experience - all the places she sees, the people she meets. She said that Seattle is one of her favorite places. Mine too.

I wonder (which I do a lot, if you haven't noticed) how I can feel so much compassion for people, and want to do nice things for them because they're going through a rough time, but I have almost none for my mother. Maybe it's because I see her as so weak and I want her to be strong. Maybe it's residual feelings, or lack there of, from a long time ago. Feelings I thought were resolved. Maybe it's from resentment and frustration I feel now. Maybe I'm not as good as a person as I like to think I am. She just had oral surgery on Wednesday, and with other people I'd be waiting on them hand and foot, but with her I haven't done anything. I did wash half of the dishes last night (between commercials). I would love to get my life in complete order by the start of next quarter, but I would be happy with at least partly organized. I am working towards that, and actually making headway. I'm not just thinking about it. I finished the interrogatories. I sold some of my books from last quarter (for a whopping $7) and bought my books for next quarter (a meager $350). I also found all of my classes while I was at campus. I still volunteer for Volunteer Chore Services, although I fulfilled my requirement. Now I just need to write the paper and hand it in. Email it in, excuse me. It can really be a pain in the ass to clean her little apartment, because she has so much stuff, but I like helping someone who needs it. At least I can help one person. I just went out and turned off the light in the living room, where my mom sleeps (by her choice). She was asleep but I woke her up. She doesn't sleep very well, especially since the surgery.

I saw Dee today, mom's best friend who blew me off. Mom left something in her car and Dad and I went down to retrieve it. All she said to me is, "That was weird. I was looking out the window." because she met me at the door without me having to knock, which I'm actually grateful for. She didn't say hi, how are you, bye...I don't know if that's how she feels about me, or that she knows she's pretty much on my shit list and doesn't want to get into conversation. What a dick. Her husband's a dick too, so they're made for each other. Do you know what that wrinkled old ass said to me a while back when I told him I was going to major in liberal arts? He said, "That's a cop-out." And it was at a restaurant! I had to excuse myself to the restroom to cry. I know he said other derogatory comments about choosing to major in liberal studies, but I didn't pay all that much attention to them after he said I was copping out. That really hurt. Why do people have to be so mean?

Tomorrow Never Happens

My best friend's grandfather, my half-sister's cousin, my dad's best friend's father, my friend's mother, and now Debbie. They all passed away this month. Four of them in the past two weeks. Maybe even ten days. I used to work with Debbie at an environmental consulting firm. It sounds more glamorous than it is. She's the third woman I know of in her early to mid-fifties who passed away that worked there. It must be the coffee. I lost contact with Debbie. She was a good lady. Funny, but also quite the drama queen. Nearly every time we went out, which wasn't that many times, she cried. Alcohol does that to some people. That's part of the reason why I didn't always feel like going out with her. I'm such a drama queen myself. I should've shown a little more compassion. I'm sorry Debbie. She seemed to be such a tortured soul, maybe now she's at peace. Maybe I'm dramatizing her. I just had to put Flower down last Saturday; my cat I had since I was 8. I have fond memories of her, but she was also a tortured soul. Afraid of her own shadow. She grew so weak, and never strong to begin with. I just want to go back to sleep, but I have too much to do. I have to finish these fucking interrogatories for my lawyer. I was determined to have them done last Friday, and now it's Tuesday. I'm such a disappointment. I look down at my parents, never accomplished anything, so it seems, no degree in anything, my mother never bought a home until a few months ago when she bought Gramma's, and that's only because Gramma had to go on medicaid and couldn't have any assets to do so. Dad bought a house once when my sister was a baby, but his ex kicked him out and he never bought another one. They haven't accomplished really much of what society marks as accomplishments. A degree, a decent home, a good job, something to retire on...all things that I want to accomplish and they do also. Why is it whenever I start talking bad about my parents, I feel guilty and must say something good? Because they're my parents? No. Because they did the best they could and they always were there for me, unless they were the problem. Particularly Carmen. I started off about how I'm disappointed in myself. Or just feel that I'm a disappointment. I haven't finished the rogs, my room is a mess, I have laundry to do, I haven't taken a shower since Saturday, or gotten out of my pajamas since Sunday, I haven't even looked at scholarships, I never do anything around the house, I'm still fat and haven't done much about it, and twice in the past three days I forgot to take my meds. I'm really taking care of myself and my responsibilities. I was hoping this would turn into an eloquent, wise post with insight, but it turned into a bitch fest about myself and my grieving about Debbie. That part I wanted to include. The rest is just dribble.

"All I ever wanted was love and peace and harmony. Just to be, to live and shine, and when I'm ready I up and fly. And I can't remember none of those things I want to forget. It's the best satisfaction no less, ask if I'm free and I'll say 'Oh, yes.'" ~Macy Gray

A Tree Grows In The Forest

Have you ever followed a line of thought and come to a completely irrelevant, odd, ending? I don't know what started it, but I was just thinking what the very first woman thought when she had her first menstrual period. I imagine it terrified her. That would be quite a surprise - one day all this blood oozes from your twat. And then it happens again the next month! That's messed up. I think men should have periods too. Even though I'm a woman, the thought of tampons makes me cringe. But it's still pretty funny. A few weeks ago in women's studies I was telling the girls in my group that I read an article about a birth control pill coming out for men. They thought that was great. Sasha was so funny. "No. YOU get the pill!" I told them that the pill should make men gain weight like the female version does.

You know, I've actually been feeling pretty good lately. Maybe this Effexor stuff works. It's weird not to feel so sad, worthless, hopeless, and even suicidal all the time, despite that my circumstances haven't really changed any. In a way, part of me liked being depressed as a way to get attention. "Love me because I'm sad." I withdrew from my women's studies class. That did make me feel like a loser and a little bit of a failure. Not a complete failure. I wonder if I wrote this in my last blog. That teacher that I emailed with a lot, and then she stopped, and now she started again, so that makes me happy. I am so ready for this quarter to be over. Don't I sound like I'm 18 instead of 26? I have an exam that I should've been studying for since yesterday, and have yet to open the book. I was so exhausted yesterday. I couldn't sleep worth shit Thursday night, and last night before I went to bed I took two hydrocodone and two clonazepan and slept like a baby. Of course I slept until almost 1 pm. So, I'm disappointed in myself, but still not depressed.

Another thing, DSHS turned me down for the exemption to stay with my doctor, Rachel. I'm bummed out about it, but still not depressed. This happy go-lucky shit isn't working out for me. It doesn't feel normal. Oh! Because it's not! At least for me. But I suppose it's better than pondering the different ways to off myself, and feel like I'm drowning in this deep abyss all alone and that no matter what I do, or how hard I try, I will never get to where I want to be, never accomplish what I want to accomplish, because there will always be hurdles to overcome and emergencies to take care of that won't let me move forward. Ok, now I feel a little depressed. I probably sound like I'm high. I don't need drugs to get high. I'm crazy enough as it is.

Yesterday on my walk I thought of the old saying, "It's hard to see the forest through the trees." and what it meant. I came to the conclusion that the trees are different areas or events in your life that are happening right now that won't let you see the bigger picture - the forest. These are my trees:
- psych exam on Tuesday I need to majorly study for
- paper due in philosophy on Thursday that I haven't started
- Rx's I need to pick up
- Make a dr. appt., and go to the appt.
- fill out the interrogatories the paralegal sent me two weeks ago I haven't done
- finish putting stuff away in my room
- get things out of storage that I want to put in my room
- buy books for next quarter
- try to read at least a little for each class next quarter
- finish reading Diana
- read Resilience
- read True Compass
- read Seized
- read The Bell Jar
- get my computer fixed
- make an appt. for tattoo consult
- do ambulatory eeg monitoring

- fill in my volunteer hours for SU

- hopefully get a Rx for PT (my shoulder is actually doing much better)

- make the appts and go to them

I could go on, but I'll stop here. They are not in any particular order whatsoever. So, what am I doing sitting here wasting time? Because it's what I do best. I hate that about myself. So, with all these trees in front of me, how can I see the forest? Actually, I think I can. I know that the little things in life don't really matter. At least not in the long run. You need to be disciplined, but not too hard on yourself. Life is hard enough as it is. I'm not disciplined. Maybe you don't need to be disciplined. Well, I guess if you attend a university and have lots of homework, you should be disciplined about that. And if you want to actually exercise regularly, you need to be disciplined about that. It's also very helpful to manage time well and be organized, which also takes discipline. So yes, self discipline is good. Moving on, I think it's important to know where you're going in life, if you want to get someplace. If you don't care where you end up, then it's fruitless to care where you're going. Well, I should study a bit before I go to bed, which I could really do now (as I let out a yawn). It's 9:30. Pathetic.

"A tree never hits an automobile except in self defense." ~American Proverb

I have no title

I give up. I tossed in turned in bed for a few hours, took half a Seroquel and a hydrocodone, and I still can't sleep. I just hope that I'm not starting one of those periods that I can't sleep for days or weeks. I decided to withdraw from my women's studies class. It was a surprisingly hard decision. It made me feel like I was copping out and somewhat a failure. I also feel like if I managed my time a little better and put more effort into it, then I wouldn't have had to do this. And that I admitted that I couldn't rise above my circumstances. My parents really encouraged me to do it, and also from a surprising source, this girl in my philosophy class, Noor. She shared that she withdrew from a couple of classes herself. I found it surprising because she was so upset when she got a B on the midterm and an A- on our last paper. The dean of students suggested I take an incomplete, with the prof allowing, and finish the last of my work after the quarter is over. I already planned on doing so much during winter break, that I really couldn't stand the thought of adding the paper I need to do for WMST onto that. I already know I won't accomplish nearly what I want to, just by experience. Dr. Mower told me that I only needed to write the big paper and forget about the small assignments, but I just felt that I couldn't get it done, and I don't like the feeling that I didn't complete the whole course. I'll just apply myself that much harder next quarter and more diligently work around, over, under, and through obstacles that will arise. I'd only be kidding myself if I think that next quarter is going to go so much more smoothly than this quarter. Because I didn't want to focus on anything besides homework is why I abstained from writing in my blog for ten days. There is only two more days of classes, and a final paper due and an exam next week. In spite of how busy I was, this quarter seemed to take forever.

Queenie and Diego aren't doing well at all. They had to pawn their wedding rings - not cheap jewelry by any stretch of the imagination. Now Diego thinks they'll have to sell the Aviator. He already sold his Navigator months ago. Queenie is suffering, and I'm actually a bastard enough that I almost take joy in it. Not really though. I may get mad and vindictive, but I wouldn't wish what they're going through on anyone.

Carmen finally got back on her meds (now everyone take a collective sigh of relief), so she's acting normaler. However, she told me just the other day that she wants to get a new oven, which I would rather get a dishwasher, but ok, and what shows up at our door but an electric fireplace! Just what we need! I totally understand the need for your home to be your sanctuary, but you also need to be realistic and practical. We have no dishwasher and the oven is probably over 50 years old. I also liked having real fires in the fireplace, even if it's one of those duralogs or whatever they're called that burns clean. Aye, aye-aye!

Our Thanksgiving was very low key, and I think everyone really liked it that way. I didn't seriously look for someplace to volunteer until the night before, and by then it was too late. Whoops. So, we just stayed at home, watched football, I was fairly drunk by early afternoon, and they cooked. No other family, no one else for that matter, no chaos, no busy schedule, no stress. A good holiday. I feel like I should feel more guilty than I do about not seeing Gramma. It may be her last. Of course it could be all of our last.

A song: The Letter by Macy Gray

All I ever wanted was some love and peace and harmony
I could dance in the raw in the sun underneath the stars
When I walk over to my money tree ain't nobody there trying to take from me
When they ask "Are you truly free?" I'd say "Yes, truly"
But down here in reality everybody knows there ain't no such thing
And it's clear
It's obviously this is not the place I'm supposed to be
On and on and on I've searched
What I'm looking for is not here on earth
I can't stand, I can't take no more
So I know that I gotta go

So long everybody Mama don't be sad for me
Life was a heartache and now I am finally free
Don't know where I'm headed
Hope I see you someday soon
So long everybody
I have gone beyond the moon

All I ever wanted, love and the peace and the harmony
Just to be live and shine
When I get ready I up and fly
And I can't remember none of the things that I want to forget
It's the best, satisfaction no less
Ask if I'm free and I'll say "Oh yes"
But down here in reality everybody knows there ain't no such thing
And it's clear
It's obviously this is not the place I'm supposed to be
On and on and on I've searched
What I'm lookin for is not here on earth
I can't stand I can't take no more
So I know that I gotta go

So long everybody Mama don't be sad for me
Life was a heartache and now I am finally free
Don't know where I'm headed
Hope I see you someday soon
So long everybody
I have gone beyond the moon

Before I do
Just one more look at you
It's worth the stay
But I'll meet you later at that better place

So long everybody
Mama don't be sad for me
Life was a heartache and now I am finally free
Don't know where I'm headed
Hope I see you someday soon
So long everybody
I have gone beyond the moon