Posted on 2013.01.05 at 14:21
Apparently I'm talking to Mom tomorrow. FML. I'm oddly terrified. Because I know this is going to cause me some serious pain because I know it's not going to go well. Hell, that's way too positive. I know this is going to go very very badly.
Yes, 'oddly terrified' seems pretty apt.
UGH. Not cool. Not even close to cool. My sister is lucky that I love her very much, because I don't think she realizes just how much she's asking of me here.
Best case scenario, which will occur only in dreamland: Mom admits responsibility to everything I have to say, apologizes sincerely for screwing me up, and is magically transformed into the perfect mother. (And since I'm dreaming here...) She then tells me that I'm the long-lost princess of some heretofore unknown district country whatever in Germany, and that Dave and I are heirs to a massive fortune. We then dance off into the sunset.
Worst case scenario: She... I... I don't even know. Everything I'm envisioning taking place tomorrow is a worst-case scenario. There's no way this goes well. No way at all. I mean, I'll probably die of a heart attack if any part of it at all goes even slightly less than awful. Mom's superemotional and will take all of what I have to say on an emotional level, she'll get hurt and pissy and angry, and - and -
This is such a bad idea. I should not be doing this. My emotional state is far better than it used to be, but even then I'm not sure I can deal with the probable outcome of tomorrow.
Posted on 2013.01.04 at 13:04
Posted on 2013.01.04 at 09:19
So I wake up around 1:30 last night. (Early this morning? Whatever.) Lay there in that contented little half-asleep haze for a few minutes. And then BAM. Suddenly, excruciating pain. I haven't always been the most stoic person in the world when it comes to pain, but I've grown into it, as it were - not complaining much when endo comes around, pretty much just stating yeah, I'm in pain. So when I say that this was excruciating pain, I'm serious. Excruciating as in, if this continues for much longer I'm having Dave take me to the hospital. I really thought I was - I don't know, had endo adhesions that were ripping me apart internally. Bleeding out from ebola. Had eaten pieces of glass or sharp plastic that were ripping my stomach to shreds. Dying, at any rate. I'm serious here.
Still in pain, I get up quietly and go to the bathroom. Sit there for about half an hour wondering what the hell is wrong with me. There's no blood. The pain is starting to subside into the more familiar ache of endo. And I'm freezing my ass off. So I get back into bed, lay there, and wonder what caused the pain. As I always do when it comes to endo. If there was a trigger, I wish I knew what it was.
So. Third endo flareup in the last month. I've got to get this crap gone.
ETA: So apparently Dave had this same stomach thing night before last. Does the fact that this makes me feel better make me a horrible person? I'm pretty sure it does.
Posted on 2013.01.03 at 14:26
I don't want to do this. But realizing that it's Thursday, and I'm talking to Mom next week... I have to make a list of what I need to say to her, to refer to, so I don't forget anything (or worse, get all emotional and spastic and... uh, forget things).
I'll put it all behind a cut so you can skip it if you like. Can't blame you if you do skip it. It's my life and I want to skip this part of it.( Do yourself a favor, skip it. No seriously.Collapse )
Ugh! I can't take any more of this right now.
Posted on 2013.01.02 at 18:20
So I read webcomics a month at a time. Meaning, around the beginning of every month, I go back and read the previous month's archives. I don't even know why this is relevant.
So I'm going back and reading December's "Something Positive" strips, and -
Son of a bitch!
The author has left us at a cliffhanger. A wonderful cliffhanger to be sure, but -
Dammit, I hate cliffhangers.
Posted on 2013.01.02 at 17:31
So among the myriad of little things that have gone wrong today, each and every one sapping my will to live -
Okay, all drama aside (or at least most of it), today was not my day. Have you ever had one of those days where it just seems like everything that can go wrong will? That was today. Okay, so it wasn't like everything went wrong. Just a whole bunch of little things. The biggest thing that went wrong was this:
With all the baking I like to do, we buy flour in bulk, and then I store this flour in big containers. With this particular bunch of flour, I had the containers on top of the refrigerator until I found somewhere else to put them. Well, apparently one of them was on top of the refrigerator door, and when I went to open the fridge to decide what to make for dinner -
CRASH! went the container on the floor, and -
SHATTER! went the container, and -
POOF! went all the flour.
So. Not only did I waste a bunch of flour, but I broke one of my containers. This may not seem like that big a deal to you, but it's just one more straw on the camel's back.
...That is all.
Posted on 2012.12.29 at 11:53
Dear people: I don't care who you defriend on Facebook. I really don't. I don't even care at this point if you defriend me. So what the hell makes you think that writing a multiple-paragraph status update on the subject will make me care? The only thing it makes me is:
A - aware of the fact that you're a douche.
B - annoyed by the fact that you're a self-aggrandizing jackass.
C - aware of the fact that you want to be Arbiter Of The World.
D - astonished by the fact that you feel a need to write a freaking essay about this person and why you defriended him.
I could go on, but it kind of already seems like I'm doing the same thing here, except I haven't defriended this person, I just don't like them.
And it isn't like this person is the only one to go on on Facebook about who they've defriended. I see it all the time. And it bugs me. Because I DON'T CARE. It's YOUR business, NOT mine.
Posted on 2012.12.29 at 11:22
It really annoys me, the typical sermon heard in the churches lately. Content doesn't really matter, but here's the formula:
1 - Speaker comes up with a new spin on some doctrine.
2 - Starts off with going to the original language because this helps with the clarity of his new doctrine.
3 - Continues on by going to a number of other translations, as this also helps with understanding.
4 - Goes on to say that this word was mistranslated originally - it should have been translated this way. The word happens to be the focal point of this entire doctrine.
5 - Goes on to cite a number of commentaries, Bible dictionaries, and/or papers written by "learned men", although the speaker will tell you that these "learned men" don't understand what the Bible really means.
6 - Rinse and repeat ad infinitum.
And it bugs me. If you have to do all this to prove your point, maybe it's not a valid point. Let the Bible interpret the Bible. I mean, it was God that wrote it. Like these professors that all want to pick apart some great work of literature and determine what the author "meant" when he said the curtains were blue. Maybe he was depressed, maybe it was a commentary on how we view the world through our own sorrows, maybe the author felt at peace and wanted to portray that peace in his work. OR MAYBE HE NEEDED A COLOR FOR THE DAMN CURTAINS AND CHOSE BLUE AND IT MEANS NOTHING OTHER THAN THE CURTAINS WERE BLUE AS OPPOSED TO PINK. Damn! Really irritates me. But that's what these people do with the Bible. A scripture can't possibly just mean what it says - God's a tricksy hobbit apparently and therefore is incapable of just saying what he means, and so we all need the ministry to tell us what God really meant.
Okay, this is kind of getting away from my original point, which is:
Let the Bible interpret the Bible. If you have to jump through hoops and say that a scripture doesn't mean what it says to prove your point, maybe your point is invalid and just freaking let it go.
Posted on 2012.12.27 at 11:26
( tl;dr FB convo is tl;dr.Collapse )
Long story short, Jess has talked me into talking to Mom about my multitudes of issues with her. This was like two weeks ago. So far, nothing has come of it. Which I'm pretty much okay with. As I've mentioned, this seems like a not-wonderful idea to me, and frankly, I have no idea what to even say to her. I mean, I don't want to get all crazy weepy yelling emotional about any of this. I don't want to make her feel horrible. But I don't want to sweep this all under the rug, either. lkjsnfatrfgg I don't freaking know.
Posted on 2012.12.26 at 20:17
This seems to be a trend. I should be alarmed by this... but I'm too tipsy to care.
I have so much to say... and so little inclination to write it all out here. Which is probably for the best, all things considered.
I am my father's daughter.
Posted via LiveJournal app for iPhone.
Posted on 2012.12.24 at 17:45
I actually thought I was remarkably coherent in my last entry. lol
Been thinking lately about the early weeks of my relationship with Dave - the long-distance part if it, anyway.
...I don't feel like typing this all out on the iPhone - remind me to finish this later, someone.
Posted via LiveJournal app for iPhone.
Posted on 2012.12.22 at 17:40
But I have a totally legitimate excuse. You see, I require alcohol to function properly when menstruating. And that's your daily dose of TMI.
I came to Livejournal for a purpose. It was a lofty goal, one that had great depth of meaning. But apparently was also easily forgotten.
...I'm going to read this tomorrow morning and be like wtf did I just read. lol
Okay so I don't remember what I came here to write about. People do this for fun. Get drunk I mean, not go to LJ and forget what they were going to write about. I'm really tempted to stop fixing the typos I'm making here just so you all can see how messed up my poor little brain gets when I'm like this. Lacey would love to see this, by the way. She'd probably make a special trip down here just to see how loopy I get when I'm a little drunk. And then I'd do her nails and she could teach me... uh... things.
Yeah so, I'm such a fangirl that I named my Kaiser Fou-Lu on Maplestory. At least as close as I could get to Fou-Lu. Oh my word I can't even freaking think. I'm a lightweight. Just how much rum have you had, Frau Rothwell? Just like... four shots? Over the course of uh five hours or so? I'm a lightweight. But damn, my uterus won't shut the hell up. Fine, I'll go have it freaking operated on or something, whatever. If I'm going to get drunk I'm going to do it for the purposes of amusement and not trying to escape excruciating pain. Well isn't that ironic, I misspell 'excruciating' when I'm sober but spell it correctly when I'm drunk.
I don't even know what I'm still doing here anymore.
Posted on 2012.12.22 at 09:38
"I mean, children are the natural result of marriage, right?"
I know people wonder about my lack of children. I also know they'll never say anything about it to me. Too awkward a topic, perhaps.
I also know that most people don't know about the Raisin... or how an unrelated remark like the above feels like a punch in the gut.
Posted via LiveJournal app for iPhone.
Posted on 2012.12.16 at 09:44
Saw this this morning and was all ireuhtldkjgdblufhtl FOU-LU IS IN MARVEL VS CAPCOM 3?!????? I WILL GO BUY IT NOW. MUST HAVE THIS GAME. FOU-LU SJAKGFLRJTHILHKJSDHF.
Yeah, he is, but not as a playable character, so it isn't quite worth buying the game over... but maybe - just maybe - his and other BoF characters' presence in the game as card effects (if I have my info correct) will reawaken interest in another BoF game... which I most certainly will have to buy.
In the meantime, I sense another playthrough of BoFIV in my near future. *very seriously considers building a new LJ layout, this time with Fou-Lu instead of Beatrix*
Posted on 2012.12.10 at 23:47
I was seriously considering ranting about the jackass I came across on Maplestory that really pissed me off, but I don't have the energy to maintain that level of rage long enough to write about it.
So after staying up too late last night, I'm just all sleepy and -_- today. Can't really focus on much - too sleepy.
It occurs to me that I must be the strangest adult ever. Me and my bundle of contradictions. Religious but not a spaz about it. Religious but with my, uh, issues. Religious but not unafraid to unleash curses once in a while. (Dave would say, more than once in a while. Mainly because I feel comfortable enough around him and not like I'm going to traumatize him if I suddenly yell out "HOLY SHIT!" while watching the preview of next week's Dexter. Also, around other people I have this image I feel I have to uphold, and swearing isn't part of that image. I really need to curb my cursing. It's not cute, and it's occasionally funny, but it loses its effect and shock value after a while. Wow, long parenthetical statement.) An adult female gamer. Who listens to things like Linkin Park and lostprophets. Almost thirty years old, and...
...I don't feel like any more of an adult than I did when I turned eighteen, hit that magical barrier.
I figure that someday I'm going to have to give up the games, the rock, the occasional anime, and turn into a boring adult woman. I mean, I used to think it was cool that my mom was a semi-gamer, but that was a long time ago and it annoys me now. Although, to be completely intellectually honest, this could just be because this is my mother we're talking about and her every word, thought, and action annoy me now.
But this thought depresses me a bit. The boring adult woman, not Mom. Though Mom depresses me too. But that's not what I'm talking about. Right now.
One of the many reasons I don't get along all that well with adult females my age is that everything they care about is freaking boring or has nothing to do with me - I have nothing in common with them. And yeah, I like sharing funny stories about me and Dave, but I don't allow that to be a topic of conversation for more than a couple of minutes, unless the other party asks questions, because -
Because I know that when I'm talking to a woman and she goes on and on and on and on about her husband/boyfriend I get to critical mass very quickly (unless I know the guy) and then I'm like SHUT UP, FOR THE LOVE OF HUMANITY SHUT THE HELL UP.
Reason #2 - They talk about their kids ad infinitum. Oh you should have seen what little Johnny did the other day blah blah. Okay, that's kind of vaguely cute, I guess I'd've had to have been there. Now shut up because... Bluntly, because I don't care. Because -
BECAUSE I SHOULD HAVE A FOUR YEAR OLD, AND TRUE, YOU MIGHT NOT KNOW THIS - BUT IF YOU DO THEN THIS IS FURTHER DOUCHEBAGGERY ON YOUR PART.
And so I have to ask, is this what being an adult normal woman is about? Tormenting people with incessant stories about your kids and husband? Trading recipes and housecleaning tips? All of this sounds so... dreadful to me. So uninteresting. So unlike anything I have any interest in ever doing ever.
Because while these women are going on and on about little Johnny, I'm looking over at Dave talking to a couple of guys and knowing that their conversation is way, way more interesting than this - politics, religion, current events, sports. (Not that I'm all that into sports, but let's be real here, sports is way more interesting than hearing Martha tell me about this one time that little Johnny...)
As if because I have breasts, I'm automatically tuned in to the chick channel - kidsrecipesfoodcookinghusbandscleaning. But this is not really the case. I'm feminine in a lot of ways, but in more ways I'm a guy trapped in a woman's body.
I know this isn't what I originally started off talking about...
Ah yes. I suppose that eventually I'll have to join the legions of Stepford Wives. Kidsrecipesfoodcookinghusbandscleaning. Forgo my dreams of the Presidency. Stop caring about politics. Squeeze out a kid or two. Become a normal woman. But the idea of this fate kind of makes me sick to my stomach, like pretending to be something I'm not and probably can never really be is a physical poison that my body's trying to reject. Because yeah, there are parts of my life I don't like - mostly what goes on in my head - but overall... I like being me. I like the gaming, the politics, the... everything that makes me me and doesn't make me "normal".
But I don't see how continuing to be who and how I am can ever be conducive to being taken seriously as an adult, a wife, a stepmom.
Dave likes me for who I am. He tolerates the gaming. He likes the interest in discussing politics and religion. He's amused by my talking about my Presidency. (No one takes me seriously yet about this.) And this should be all that matters to me, that he likes me. I know I shouldn't be so concerned with what others think of me. But occasionally I take a step back, look at myself objectively, and wonder.
A 29 year old woman, married for almost six years, still playing video games, still talking about Star Wars and Sailor Moon, no job, no kids... is this person for real?
I'm torn between feeling almost obligated to grow up, and being me.
Is this some product of my childhood - like it seems that everything else is? Not that I can trust my sleepy brain to come up with an accurate answer right now, but I kind of don't think so. Unless I can blame it on my father for bring home the Star Wars movies when I was three and letting me watch them. But I don't think I can. I don't think that this is some detrimental effect of my childhood, for once. (O frabjous day!) I think that people's personalities are there from the moment they're born. I think I've always been this way.
I think maybe I just need to accept that
I don't know that I can. It's too weird to me. Too weird to me to think that other people look at me - in the role of wife, stepmom, adult - and see what I see, but see it differently, not as forgivingly as I'm obviously more inclined to.
I think maybe I just need to stop deciding what other people think of me. Dave likes me. Hayden and Lindsay like me. Cathy likes me. Jess likes me. Those are the important people. None of them - I think - look down on me for being me, fitting into an odd role (which is kind of okay since I'm an odd person).
And other people? Like I said, I really shouldn't care what they think, I know this... and yet. And yet I can't seem to just... not.
All this and I've come to no conclusions. Typical.