I spent the entire weekend either asleep or at work. The few times I could rouse up and try to check shit online the stupid net connection kept winking in and out. (Note to self: There's a reason tech support includes "is it plugged in?" among the first of the troubleshooting questions.) I know at one point I was out for about thirteen hours solid. I remember waking up long enough to turn over every couple hours, but that's about it. Just this long session of "Do not want" when it came to consciousness and doing anything that didn't involve curling up in a fetal position in my warm bed.

My new glasses are also shit. If they're adjusted for farsightedness, shouldn't that make things further away a bit easier to see? Not... blurrier? Bwarg. I'll have to call them back and say, "Nope, still not working," and wait another week or whatever until I can hitch a ride back to Lex and get them looked at again. A working car would be lovely for that so I can quit with the actual hitching part. And being able to focus on more than a string of letters at a time on my computer screen would also be nice, kthnx.

Bwargh.
Translation of the spoiler for the latest Bleach chapter, taken from here.


Chapter Begins as Yammi has captured Rukia . Chad and Renji are already down on their knees .

Yammi and Rukia have an exchange and he's about to pound her into the ground .

When Ichigo saves her and says he's going to hurry up and finish this trivial battle .

Rukia: Why are his eyes...not of someone who won in the battle above?

Rukia says something like: "That guy's rank...isn't the same as the rank of the guy you defeated."

The 3 go off and watch the fight from a distance. It doesn't appear they will be involved .

Ichigo says he's going to quickly defeat him . Then go to the real world and dons his mask .

Looks like Ichigo's mask has a horn. And Chapter Ends


Ahem.

WHAT THE HELL?!

Dear Bleach Animation Studios:

I've been loosely following the recent manga chapters and the recent anime episodes and realize that one is about to fall behind the other. In the past, this has resulted in anime-only filler arcs being shown instead of pulling the current manga story arc out of Kubo's ass. This has resulted in two major filler arcs so far, mostly referred to as the Bount arc and the New Captain arc, along with a few smaller two or three episode arcs that have also appeared. The anime is rapidly approaching the manga and soon it will be time for a new arc.

In light of this, I propose that rather than introducing a slew of new anime-only characters that will likely never appear again or even mentioned, that the upcoming arc(s) be constructed to reveal more of the existing backstory of certain characters, or to flesh out the current stories of certain characters. Mr Kubo Tite has developed this rather distressing habit of creating somewhat interesting secondary characters that either have ties to major characters or ties amongst themselves and never really following through with them. This is an opportunity to take care of that. In fact, here are two concepts for possible filler arcs that I believe would be quite entertaining:

The Secret Forces are on a mission to discover just who's capturing Hollows alive and for what purpose, fearing that Aizen may be up to experiments yet again. What they discover is instead along distant ocean shores where ships are carrying an incredibly dangerous cargo and an underground gambling ring is forcing innocents and criminals alike to battle Hollows in a desperate bid for survival. A seal is placed upon all combatants to lock away any spiritual powers or zanpakuto, forcing them to rely on brute strength and fierce cunning to stay alive while spectators place bets on who will perish and who will emerge victorious. A covert group is sent to infiltrate both the betting ring and the fighters to discover who is behind it all and what goal they could possibly have. Along the way, the shinigami will have to learn who they can trust in an increasingly lethal game and just how desperate some people become to survive in the Rukongai.

BONUSES
: NINJAS, PIRATES, small scale epic battles, Hollows that can actually be scary, shirtless men, more NINJAS, and Ganju showing the shinigami how to brawl RUKONGAI style.
DRAWBACKS: None. There are NINJAS and PIRATES, so stfu.

The second basic concept:

The Captains and Vice-Captains are scattered across Heuco Mundo and the false Karakura Town in a fierce battle against Aizen. With her strongest fighters absent, the greatest threat to the Seireitei now might come from those the shinigami were sworn to protect. Tensions in the Rukongai run hot and vicious in the wake of Aizen's betrayal and even defeated, Kariya's words continue to poison and twist the ears and sympathies of many Rukongai citizens. With the strongest of the shinigami absent, who will protect the people of the Soul Society from the Hollows and Aizen's machinations? And who will protect them from themselves? An army starts to amass on either side of the Seiretei's walls, split between those in the Rukongai who wish to overthrow the Court Guards, and those within the Seireitei who wish to extend the control of those same Guards far past Yamamoto's original intent. It's a race against time for a small band with loyalties to both sides to fight and keep the peace and protect Seireitei and Rukongai alike from the threat that is emerging from the sleeping Karakura Town that could consume them all.

BONUSES
: Secondary characters can shine, reveal more of what actually happens in the Rukongai and the social structure, logical followup to the mess that was the Bount arc, room for backstories, and more Ganju showing the shinigami how to brawl RUKONGAI style.
DRAWBACKS: Captains and Vice-Captains missing is sort of a big deal and Kubo might actually have something planned for that.

Both of these proposals should be good for at least ten episodes and could possibly be extended to twenty or more, depending on the number of battles that can be crammed in. I wish to note, however, that extending episodes with the method used in the Bount Arc, for example with long, monotonous dialog and episode long flashbacks, may only serve to alienate your audience and there's nothing wrong with keeping it short and simple if you can't flesh it out with plot and proper action.

In addition, there are numerous unresolved plot lines or minor plot 'threads' that could be expanded to fill entire one or two part episodes, such as Renji's flashback episode to his and Rukia's childhood in the Rukongai. It would be highly recommended to touch upon these with close feedback from Mr Kubo Tite, as this could afford him the oppurtunity to delve further into backstories that he may or may not have an oppurtunity to address in the manga in the near future. These are listed in no particular order:

  • Kenpachi and the first Yachiro and why that name was bestowed with such reverance upon the second.
  • The Shiba clan. Specifically, what lead to the fall of the family from full noble status, Byakuya Kuchiki's past interactions with Kaien Shiba, Kukaku's use of a powerful kido spell, the origin of Kukaku's connection to former shinigami Yoruichi and Urahara, the form of kido or 'spells' that Kukaku and Ganju both use, why Ukitake didn't tell Kukaku and Ganju the truth himself and instead let the live however many decades hating the shinigami and believing Kaien as murdered in cold blood, and a possible fourth Shiba (There's a pattern to the names and each roughly translates as: Kaien Shiba - "Swallow of the Ocean," Kukaku Shiba - "Crane of the Sky," and Ganju Shiba - "Eagle of the Rock." Both Kaien and Ganju's names match their elemental ability, Kaien having a water-based zanpakuto and Ganju using some form of earth-based kido/spell. A bird of fire is still missing and no, Kaien's wife doesn't fit the pattern. More name information can be found here).
  • Spirit ribbons. Just... spirit ribbons. Oh, and the Gateway to Hell while we're at it. Listed mostly because while Kubo still might toss it back in when the current arc wraps up, it's been 200+ chapters.
  • The first shinigami that gave their powers to a human. If they made a law against it, either it had to have happened or something close enough to make them think, "Okay, um, yeah, maybe we should make this illegal guys?"
In conclusion, with the anime rapidly closing in on the current manga chapters, now's a good time to start thinking about this sort of stuff, although at this point in time the upcoming filler is probably already in post-production stage. Best of wishes, however, and please try to avoid the mistake in the Bount arc mentioned above.

PS: Yes, I am a Ganju fangirl as well as of the whole messed up family.
falsechaos: (Default)
( Jan. 19th, 2007 10:24 pm)
To everyone I might happen to talk to tonight:

I'm in a bitchy mood.

As far as I know, nothing put me in it, no great trauma or angst or whatever, just worked a really long day and am kinda tired.

Not mad at anyone.

Not a pre-emptive apology. ("Well, I warned you I was in a pissy mood!")

Not a sideways way of begging for ego strokes.

Just bitchy and pissed off and not sure why and trying to distract the mood.

Whatever.
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falsechaos: (Default)
( Nov. 24th, 2006 10:21 pm)
cut for emo )
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falsechaos: (Default)
( Nov. 12th, 2006 10:45 pm)
My family is insane. Undoutably insane. Came home from work after working the first 8 hour day in months. Only been working 4 hours to 5 and a half hours. Tired, needless to say. Get home and family is all but vibrating from suppressed spazz. Mom was saying everyone needs to be up to pack at 8:00 sharp in morning. Then spazz over sister and her... ah... acquaintance guy. Not official boyfriend, but close enough to raise hairs.

Apparently, sister and guy made talk of moving in together and skipping thanksgiving with family. Guy was serious, not certain of sister. Mom spent entire afternoon pissed/spazzing over sister. Found out few hours ago it was joke on part of guy. Mom uber pissed as sister now. Strained, very loud "we're trying not to yell!" voices. And then the thing about moving. Couple months behind on rent. No eviction served, but going by mom, close enough to be very not good. And no place yet to move to. And mom's threatening to make us start moving tonight.

Mom is uber upset with sister and that translates into a migraine. So as of this typing, she's trying to distract herself with a card game with some family friends. This is after her spazz with sister. Personally, the rest of us are waiting for her to crash. She's running on adrenaline right now. Sister came out not long ago to wander around for food. I pointed at her and said, quote, "Mom's pissed, fix it!" Mom said something, sister said something, then I said, "He's your puppy, so neuter him!"

Apparently, that got Mom in hysterics. Thought it was amusing. To the point of tears. Needless to say, she's threatened guy with evisceration when she sees him again. That should be interesting. And sister might move out anyway just out of spite. That would be amusing. After the spazz, of course. [rolls eyes]

So. No idea what's going on tomorrow on my day off. Sucks. Could be packing, or could be sleeping in while Mom sleeps off her crash and migraine shot. Which I doubt will be far in coming. Another trip to the hospital to get a painshot.

[sighs]
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falsechaos: (Default)
( Oct. 4th, 2006 04:22 pm)
My family has always been lower middle-class, and while that sucks, it's always been survivable. But not so much this month. Everything else is caught up on and paid for except the rent. Most of this is my sister's and my fault. She quit to go to Chicago for a month. I quit my job because it made me feel like scooping out my brain with a spork. Neither of us have been able to find full-time employment to start helping out with bills around the house again. Our parents live on disability and we're just kinda parasiting along.

I've got a part-time job now, but that's barely enough to let me keep my car, let alone make any real contribution to the household.

Our main of hope of paying the rent this month will be in selling that old truck of my dad's they've been trying to unload for about two months.

I'm just hoping all of this looks better when I get back from work tonight. T_T

Any hints, tips, or suggestions would be greatly appreciated. [headdesk]
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falsechaos: (grin)
( May. 28th, 2006 09:23 pm)
This sucks such total ass. I wanna write something. Got the bunnies a romping, fanstuff and other stuff, but there's nothing coming out. Writing, for me, is like using my keyboard to tap a vein. I think I read that off an avvy somewhere, but what the hell. It works. Anyway. Tapping a vein, yeah. Sometimes I'm lucky and hit that vein, and it's just this sudden clench and release and flood of warmth, just like thinking those kinda happy thoughts. It's like being so very thirsty and sucking on the straw extra hard to get that last little bit of vanilla milkshake at the bottom, then a quick little burst of cold, wet happy in your mouth.

But I can't get that now.

I'll stare at the blank screen for a bit, the little blinking cursor, and think, 'Hmm... I'd better go research this a bit more. Just a quick bit, then back to the fic.' My quick bits are not so quick. I've got bunnies, damn it, they're just not organizing! X# Sucks.

Okay, okay, here's some bunnies. Some shit I've got floating in my head that will be so damned vivid and vital when I don't have time to write, but god forbid I get five fucking minutes, coherency goes out the frigging window. Whatever. Bunnies.



"Poltergeist"
Clockwork/Dan, Danny/Vlad. Clockwork muses about how even though he stopped the horrible future that lead to Dan's creation, Danny and Vlad are still drawn to one another. Just like Clockwork is drawn to Dan. For [livejournal.com profile] sorakachan. I owe her this fic because she was so cool and drew an awesome pic for me as part of her meme. She rocks likes that.

"Zugzwang"
Jazz/Vlad. "A situation in a chess game in which a player is forced to make an undesirable or disadvantageous move." From bartleby.com Jazz tries to help her brother and play in the big league by striking up an email correspondence with dear old Uncle Vlad. She might be quick and clever, but Vlad's had an entire lifetime to become as sneaky and manipulative as he is today. Of course, what he hadn't counted on was Jazz being just as clever as her mother.

"Darwin's Rebuttal"
Eventually Danny/Dash. In the space of one week, Dash busts his knee, gets booted from the football team, falls further down the social ladder than Valerie, winds up eatting lunch with Fenton and his loser friends, and discovers Danny's secret identity. Of course, things can only go up from there. This one has multiple bunnies. Organized bunnies. >_> I hate it when bunnies fucking unionize.

"Disparate"
Gen. Danny learns that the Plasmius Maximus has a reverse switch.

"Dichotomy"
Gen. Vlad turns up with another clone, this one stable, obedient, and with all of Danny's powers. Meanwhile, Danny's powers appear to be eating him alive...



So. These are in my stupid head. And refuse to vacate. Not to mention original fics I'm blowing off by the occasional fandom piece. Mrf. And anybody who reads this and cares enough to post, don't dare fucking tell me they're good bunnies or whatever. Okay, you're welcome to the whatever. They probably aren't that good anyway. If they were that good, I'd've written them by now. Ah... You are, however, more than welcome to tell me to shut the fuck up and write, or just shut the fuck up. That'll work.
falsechaos: (Default)
( Feb. 16th, 2006 12:10 pm)
Matters of Etiquette
(a vocabulary list for young ladies)


It is a matter of vital importance and dignity for a young lady to remember and practice a proper vocabulary. Such a vocabulary assures her of a secure place in society and helps to educate others of her impeccable manners and mores. A young lady must always know her proper place; her choice of words can assure her peers and compatriots that she is aware of this role and is happy fulfilling it. So, in the continued interest of civilization, a sample vocabulary list is presented here for the proper young ladies of the twenty-first century, as compared to an identical list for young gentlemen.


A promiscuous young lady is called a slut.
(or alternatively: harlot, scarlet lady, whore, strumpet, loose)
A promiscuous young gentleman is called a big man on campus.

A young lady gets laid.
(or alternatively: gets her cherry popped.)
A young gentleman scores.

A young lady is daddy's little girl.
A young gentleman is daddy's little man.

A young lady who roughhouses is a tomboy.
(or alternatively: dyke.)
A young gentleman who roughhouses is one of the guys.

A young lady who speaks her mind is domineering.
(or alternatively: a bitch.)
A young gentleman who speaks his mind is assertive.

A young lady who asserts her authority is henpecking.
A young gentleman who asserts his authority is leading.

A young lady who emotes in public is hysterical.
A young gentleman who emotes in public is honest with his feelings.

A young lady who speaks loudly is shrill.
A young gentleman who speaks loudly is yelling.

A young lady who is expecting is knocked up.
A young gentleman who is expecting is a father to be.

A young lady screws her way to the top.
A young gentlemen climbs the corporate ladder.

A young lady is a member of mankind.
A young gentlemen is a member of the human race.

In conclusion, the proper young lady can, with proper vocabulary, proudly announce both her role and her satisfaction in fulfilling that role with a few choice words. Remember, it is vital for appearances and the continued betterment of mankind that a young lady both know her place and allow others to know it. Without such important knowledge, her otherwise understanding peers might assume of her such rude cultural violations as independence, confidence, and strength.



a
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falsechaos: (Default)
( Oct. 5th, 2005 11:15 pm)
My mother threw a glass frying pan lid today and it shattered at my feet. This isn't, of course, to imply that she threw it at me. Of course. I hate her. She could have hurt me. Instead, she plays it off as being frustrated and angry that the lids weren't stacked right and that it fell on her foot. She wasn't aiming at me, I just happened to be in the hallway at the same time. That's all. Just an angry coincidence. She wasn't angry at me because I implied that the cow bitch was taking advantage of her to take care of the cow bitch's kids, of course not, mother loves the cow bitch and the cow bitch's kids. And she wasn't angry because I made the half joking reply that I didn't have a choice if I wanted to help dad install the sink and countertop they got at a yardsale. I'm certain these are just coincidences. It's just strange.... the first thing she said after the glass frying pan lid shattered was "Don't start, I wasn't aiming at you." And perhaps equally odd when I did indeed start crying and whimpering slightly, standing in shock and fright and her reply was "Quite blubbering." I hate her. I've gotten over the whole feeling guilty about hating her. Scared to death when a couple of weeks ago family was rear ended and mother was in hospital and wearing damned neckbrace for two weeks. Gut reaction. Visceral. But not where it counts.
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Sometimes... I should really just know to keep my fucking head down. Saturday passed by fine, no problem. Granted, family was gone for a few hours at yard sales, but hell, that was one of the good parts. Passed fine. A bit like dancing at a minefield, but pleasent nonetheless.

Then today.

Informed that my $60 a week is no longer needed, thank you very much, just go on ahead and save for that car and the insurance and so I can move out. Told don't come crying if we run out of toilet paper or the like, as mom wouldn't have any money. Since I want out so badly, just go on ahead and keep that $60.

Definately revising previous tenuously hopeful frame of mind. Should know better by now.

I want to know what I'm like from their perspective. I know I'm not being fair to them, have no idea what they're going through. No idea what I'm putting them through. Still... It's kind hard to really care right now.

Crap. I've got a leak to fix.
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falsechaos: (Default)
( Jul. 22nd, 2005 11:04 pm)
There's a large stuffed dog sitting on my bed. I have named him Pete. Pete sounds better than P2, and P2 sounds better than Puppy Two. Puppy was my first beloved stuffed animal. You know the type. That nasty, ragged, ratty ball of fluff and stuffing barely holding its original shape that no child can bare to leave behind.

My mother got me Pete today.

Went to see therapist. Emergency session, actually. Day started out abysmal. Family babysat five kids. Fighting and shit went down. Ended when I was outside watching the five of them and swatted a little one hard enough to leave a bruise on her arm. Was put in a chair and told to stay. Mom called dad home and big blewee from there. Got bad enough I was scratching at my leg hard enough to draw blood. In front of everyone. Kids shuffled home and Mom shuffled on phone trying to find a psychiatric place to put me.

Wound up with emergency session at local comprehensive care. Talked with therapist and with parents there. Mental equivalent of a bulemic purging after a large meal. No boobie hatches, but therapy and possible medication planned.

Dunno what comes next. Maybe... maybe a good thing. Getting it out. I hope.
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I honestly don't know how they do it. Either their manipulation is so flawless, or I am that easy to twist about. Started last night when I came in from work. Few things to establish first. It'll help things make a bit more since later on. I work at a steakhouse, busing tables and doing dishes. Part time, roughly 26 to 30 hours a week for $6.50 an hour. My parents get at least $60 a week from me, although most of the time it averages around $80. I'll be getting back to this in a moment.

Came in last night from work. Feet hurt and all that jazz. Mom asked dad what I'd do if I had to work eight hours a day instead of five. I just snarked back about being soft and weak. She just gave a friendly laugh. I think she thought I was trying to be funny.

Dishes weren't done. Still left in same vague stacks as when I left. My job and my sister's to do dishes around the house. No problem. Most of the time, they're just done in the morning anyway. But... no babies last night. They went somewhere, don't know what they did, whatever. She was home at least two hours before I was. And didn't go to bed until about 12:30. No where, in that multi-hour stretch of time, did she straighten up the damned kitchen. Never mind I had just gotten off from work for doing that very thing, she didn't do it. Acted very pissed off when I asked her if she would scrape and stack the dishes and I'd do them in the morning. I was informed that she needed her sleep because she had to get up in the morning and babysit three kids so she could make $15. Just never mind that damned $15. That damned $15 that would lift my family from the financial burdens of lower middle class and into the secure ranks of disposable income. Just never mind that. So I straighten up kitchen. Sister pitches in to help, I tell her to go away. She says that's why no one ever wants to talk to me. Fukk that. Seriously. She went away.

Cue forward to this morning. I was informed that I had to help my sister watch her three kids. Things kinda went downhill from there. I didn't act the happiest in the world to be spending my one day of the week off helping her earn her big, amazing, stupendous, how-will-we-ever-survive-without-it $15. So mom and dad could go to an avon meeting. That make or break $15. Yeah. Swimming in pennies, practically.

I'll admit, I acted like I always do when I'm overcome with impotent anger and frustration. I kinda yank things around. Started cleaning dishes, but perhaps with more a bit more... enthusiasm for gravity than I should have been showing. And yelling at mom's damned dog. Chewing, ankle nipping, kitten gnawing, random shitting little bastard. Mom got pissed and told me to go downstairs and not to come back up until she and dad got back from their avon outing. Then told to come back upstairs. Asked if I wanted to be dumped (not the word used, but certainly in the spirit of the offer) off at the library while they were gone. I finally broke down and begged to do what mom asked me to do in the first place, kill my day and help sister with her job. Told nope, no way I was going to be left anywhere near the children in my mood.

Please.

I'm not going to hurt anyone.

Not much.

Maybe a sharp nip with the teeth, or smacking a head against a wall, scratching with uneven fingernails, a sharp rap to the forehead with a broom handle. Not much damage. I'm subtle. It'll fade and won't show. I know who deserves to be punished. I know how to shock away that hollowing ringing in my veins, that nasty little inner savage demanding that the intruders be beaten down. Deep breaths don't do much. But that tiny little burst of pain will sure clear the head sometimes.

I think mom's worried that I inherited my biological father's temper. She's right. Maybe not quite as volatile or as explosive, but still there. She's worried I'll hurt the little children. Silly, silly woman. Why would I do that? Like I said earlier. I know who deserves to be punished. But it's okay. I don't leave bruises, rarely scratch hard enough to bleed. Mustn't give reason for concern. Most of my scars will fade anyway. Of all the people I live with, went to school with, encountered in my life, no one has hurt me more than myself. But let's get back to the children, shall we?

Interesting enough little diversion. Another stream of consciousness moment where we overflow into a sewage line for a moment. Back to children and dishes and parents. Working in kitchen, frustrated and crying. Always cry when I'm frustrated. I hate that. I want to burn out the tears and the whimpering breaths I allow myself when no one's looking. Heard parents talking about how they were trying to run a business to support our family. My little pittance contributed every week. And don't forget sister's pittance, but it's "every cent." She gives them "every cent." That's how that phrased it. My little pittance and sister's but-she-gives-every-cent pittance. Mom threatened to call off her two meetings and just stay home, thanks for ruining the day.

I begged her to let me do what had pissed me off so badly in the first place. Begged. "Please go, I'll stay and help --- with the kids." I hate myself for that. I hate her for reducing me to that and still saying that no, there was no way she was leaving and leaving me with sister and the kids. Again with the whole afraid I'll hurt the children thing. Why bother with them when I've got a much quieter and convenient target? I'm always here with me.

So mom turned what is a pleasurable event for me into a punishment. The first part of my punishment, anyway. And got me to beg to do what angered me in the first place. Masterful stroke there, absolute genius. So here I am, at the library, laying my sins before the silicon altar. And being terribly overdramatic, but really, in this mood, I think I'm allowed a few liberties.

I don't know what to do. I live in my parent's moldy basement. Mold is starting to eat my books and I'm fairly certain that's why I've had mild allergy-like symptoms over the past few months. I'm still making payments towards a down payment on my car and can't drive it yet. That doesn't even include insurance. I haven't even started to say for that yet. Can't. I don't make enough money to move out. There's no way I'll be able to save enough money to go to the college I want to go to in January. Spencerian. Graphics design program. Student loans out the ass, but it'll teach me skills I'll actually enjoy using for eight hours a day, five days a week. I tend to annoy people to death in real life, so I try to do the nice thing and stay away.

That's an interesting way to interpret anti-social behavior. I'm avoiding you to be polite.

This is random, but sticking in my head for some reason. I used to have a nail kit. In this little nail kit was a shiny little cuticle trimmer with a sharp, shiny little edge. We can see where this is going, right? I have a scar on my leg. A few, actually, but this is the only one prominent enough to warrent it's own story. Some random arguement with my sister. Actually hit her. She hit back, of course, and harder, but still. First blows and all that. Later, in the quiet of my room and the screaming of my blood, I made a quick little swipe at my leg with the shiny little cuticle trimmer. Left a scar. Just one. Made other little shallow swipes after other little temper flares, but never any as deep or wide as that one. Scratches, really.

Shit. I even manage to half-ass a psychological disorder.

I'll read occasionally, usually in journal entries like this one, or even author notes in the occasional masochistic fanfic, and wonder how in the hell people live like that. With all that petty anger and meager coping mechanisms. Complaining about their medication or their family and other boring, whining self-serving bullshit.

Here's my little contribution.

On a good note, though, I got my book in the mail today. Tanya Huff book. Only first chapter in and already hooked. Good stuff. Whee.
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Baby Hayley went home a couple of days ago. Still hate dishes with a vengence. And my sister's ex-boyfriend turned roommate. Always prattling on about his car and how it's falling apart. Well... if the idiot quit trying to fix it himself and got a professional's help... The door fell off the other day. Just... fell off. >_< Gah.

Too frigging hot to be this pissed off. Hot and muggy and moldy (in the basement).
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falsechaos: (Default)
( Jun. 9th, 2005 10:58 pm)
Tired. Tired of stupid job with nice people. Tired of living in basement that smells of mold and is making all my books clammy. Tired of stupid baby. Tired of listening to people upstairs above me sounding like rats scurrying through woodwork. Tired. Tired. Tired.

Wanna sleep. Wake up and be someone else. Someone less whiney.
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falsechaos: (Default)
( Jun. 6th, 2005 10:04 pm)
The baby is back again. Big source of stress over past few months (months) is the constant presence of a little parasite named Hayley. Had to stay with us at first because her big brother was terribly ill. Serious talk that little critter might not make it. Fine enough. Hayley stayed with us while her brother was treated in the hospital. That took several weeks. Hayley is still with us.

Big brother was released from the hospital almost two months ago.

We're still stuck with his baby sister. Her mother doesn't want her, I'm certain. Just hangs onto custody to collect state checks and the like. There was one day when we actually managed to track the bitch down and deliver her child. Less than two hours later Hayley was back at our house along with her little brother. Joy.

I can't remember a day in the past three months when there wasn't some sort of small child in the house. There had to have been at least one day child-free, I'm certain. Somewhere. I can't remember.

So. Stuck with small children. Reassured in oh-so-gentle-yet-stern tones that no, I'm not being replaced. I believe that. Kinda hard to replace a child that you didn't have much of a hand in raising anyway. Most of my childhood took place during my mother's crazy years (certifiably crazy years; pretty sure she's still there, just of a different variety nowadays). I'll have to ask her how much of that she remembers. I won't be surprised if it turns out she's as much of stranger to me as I try to be to her.

Also told that I'm still welcome to move out should the fancy strike me. Not so much to worry about there. After all, the baby's will still be here.

Good for them.
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People suck. Especially short people only a year and half old. Short, loud, nasty smelling people. Babysitting sucks royally. And I'm not even the one doing the babysitting. Technically, sister is the babysitter, but I'm expected to tag along. After all, I've got nothing better to do than listen to a baby squall and shriek. Fun, fun, there.

Hoping tomorrow turns out better. If nothing else, will get my laundry put up. It's sitting neatly in a basket. Better, at least, than in a heap on the floor.

Got some measure of privacy in my basement corner now. Living in a basement with sister and sister's-ex-boyfriend-turned-roommate is hella annoying. Especially with no walls. At least managed to land corner with a chimney support. That's kinda like two and half walls. Space between wall and chimney support is now covered with a shower curtain. Yeah. Fabulous. But at least it's a little nook where I can change. Woot.

I think Trill Dayo actually likes me. I've had cats before, and this one is no more or less affectionate than any of the others, but still cute. Purrs and stuff. Actually likes and seeks out my lap. Mostly when I'm on the computer, though. Hm. I think that's more along a cat's innate need to be the center of attention, be it computer or newspapers. ^_~
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falsechaos: (frisbee)
( Dec. 2nd, 2004 11:28 pm)
I turn 21 on Sunday. Woot. Not looking forward to it. Reality is being most uncooperative my unrealistic expectations. So here's my list of demands for reality on Sunday. Doubt anything'll come of it.

The First: No small children.

The Second: No parents making me feel guilty for wanting to know if small children are coming over.

The Third: No parents making me feel guilty for not being overjoyed if small children are coming over.

The Fourth: No parents running off for "errands" and leaving me and pissy sister alone with small children.

The Fifth: Mad homoerotic boy/boy smut. Yeah. That'd be nice.

And yes, I realize this is incredibly immature. At the moment, however, I'm too busy indulging in a pity-party to care.
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falsechaos: (Default)
( Nov. 21st, 2004 11:06 pm)
There was a commercial on tv today. I only caught the end of it and didn't pay much attention when it was running. It was my dad's reaction that caught me. In this commercial, some people of Iraqi descent or origin were protesting at the treatment their people were receiving in America as a result of September 11. My dad thought that the protest was meaningless, that such treatment is to be expected and that it is natural for such people to be put under suspicion since "their people" were the ones who did it in the first place.

I'll admit that my worldveiw is very limited and underdeveloped, but that made no sense to me. Am I expected to condemn an entire people based upon the actions of a few? If so, does that mean that other people can judge America based on the actions of Bush alone? Frankly, that scares the shit out of me.

My dad is a decent guy, certain. But that... that just made me stare for a few moments and go "Bwuh?"
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Written as of roughly 7:00 pm eastern.

Family meeting scheduled for tonight. Not looking forward to that. The very words are enough to produce that fluttery chest feeling. Mom's pissed off and determined to drag the rest of us down with her. I honestly don't know how dad lives with her. She's


Written as of roughly 8:30 pm eastern

Family meeting interrupted the angsty little monolog I was going to write above. Oddly enough, I'm not crying this time around. Still got targeted, still received the same litany, but for some reason it didn't sting as much this time around. "Quit giving me mean looks" (from mom); "Quit growling/snarling/grunting/groaning/etc" (mom); "Be nice to your mother" (dad); "Be nicer to our quests" (mom; not like she cares too much about them either). And there were the now familiar warning/threats of "Shape up or ship out." Yeah.

I don't feel much of anything right now. I should. I should be raw and sniffling and shuddering with repressed anger and self-righteous pity. Nothing. There's a distant little thrum, an odd little quiver to my fingertips, but that's it. Maybe it's just because it's the same old thing again and again. I don't think so. Maybe I've been rubbed about as raw as I'm going to get around this family.

I don't hate them. There's just this distance between me and them, as though I'm a tenant that got a bit too involved in the neighbors' business. I want out. I want out and away from them and absolved of their squabbles and petty matters that frankly, I want nothing to do with. Instead I'm pulled into their little dramas of Sister arguing with her Boyfriend, Mother angry at everyone and helpless to her hormones (she finally admitted she's going through menopause), Mother pissed off at people because of the thrice cursed children, Mother possibly moving to Ohio because of a possible promotion, and Mother, Mother, Mother.

Somehow it always gets back to her. I'm starting to recognize more and more personality traits I share with the one person I once swore never to be anything like. Both of us are egocentrically dedicated to our own causes, to hell with anyone else. Killing that train of thought. Suffice to say, she's too much like me and I don't much like myself. Transference.

I want out and away from them. West. I want to go west. California, Oregon, Texas, Arizona. Kentucky is the last place I want to spend the remainder of my life. Tch. Easier to dream than to actually do. I would need (and not necessarily in this order): a final destination, a job at destination, a place to live at destination, fully running car, insurance for car, tags for car, license to drive the car, a way to move all my belongings, furnishings for place to live at destination, finances to help me get set up on my feet, finances to pay for out of state college (which my grants would most likely not transfer to anyway), etc, etc.

Even if I manage to pull the rest together, I'm pretty sure that etc is gonna bite me on the ass.

So stuff it ma, I want away from you to.

Anybody need a roommate?

=====

Post Script:

Why, if I contribute to household expenses and chores, told that my opinion counts at least a little bit, am I told that I will have no say whatsoever when it comes to Mother and her odd little obsession in keeping small children around?
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