edgarallenfrog: various pics of harvey milk (accepted)
50 Book Challenge Update

#33: "Covenant" by John Everson

Now that it's been a few weeks since I read this I can't remember any of the good things about it, only the bad. Ok, that's not true, I remember the good its just outshadowed by the bad. I mean, this book had a creepy villain, some good tension, a cool little plot, but the characters made really idiotic moves and...maybe this is just whatever Christopher Rice spoiled in me talking, but now I can't read fucking anything without thinking about goddamned "A Density of Souls" and the things it says about same-sex attraction. Everson's problem is that he's got no qualm with showing women getting it on with women. Fuck, the demon in this book barely has to speak to them and BAM! they're having lesbian orgies left and right. Because the demon breaks down their sexual inhibitions. Or something. But then, when the demon attacks men...they um, they go find a woman. They don't fuck each other. Ew, that would be icky. So basically, all the men end up raping women (because that's what all men want) and all the women want to fuck each other's brains out, and I could swallow this a whole lot easier if it didn't read like some horny middle school guy's sexual fantasy (one who wasn't GAY because EW that's GROSS). I liked this book, but it gave me hives, and that irritates me. Edward Lee is giving me similar skin problems, and it's doubtful I'll ever finish "Brides of the Impaler" because of that. Sigh. Stupid sophomoric lesbian sex scenes mucking up my otherwise good horror fiction.

In other news...my throat hurts so bad it's on fire, I was a minute late coming in for work and the write-up is coming tonight and I'm so upset, and I keep getting involved in stupid fights online because I can't let things go. I want to cry and scream but my throat hurts like hell and...poo. I'm so tired. I need a break from life.
edgarallenfrog: various pics of harvey milk (werk)
I've been holding this in for a month or better, trying to find the words to say it, and when I found myself wanting to gut some stupid blogger tonight, I realized it was time. I have a lot of anger in me, and generally writing brings this to the surface.

It's 6 pages long and it's angry. If you're going to give me advice or tell me I did something wrong, then please don't read it. Someone said once that I try to control the way people comment in my journal and I can't expect people to only agree with me, but I don't. See, it's my journal, and the promise of a listening ear or a reader out there is what keeps me writing in it. Otherwise I could keep this saved on my computer and never post it. I considered doing that, but having a reader means more simply because it's the promise of another person seeing what I have to say. And I never said everyone has to agree with me, so that's bullshit. All I ask is that you not say "What you should do is..." because that sends me into stabby fits of rage. If you want to say "I did this, and it helped" that's different. How can't you see that? It's MY journal, you have your own journal and I don't always agree with what you say, most likely, but I don't tromp into every opinion you have and say "You should have done this" or "You're wrong, this movie was good, I have scientific proof" so I don't see why it's such a strange request to ask that you do me the same courtesy.

Longer than the Song that Doesn't End )

Also, this. I heard this guy sing at West Michigan Pride 2008 and this song mesmerized me. Not only does he sample one of my favorite 80s power ballads (that always made me cry ANYWAY) but he mixes in his own lyrics that hit me harder every time I hear them:

We are young
Heartache to heartache we stand
no promises, no demands
love is a battlefield

We are strong
No one can tell us we're wrong
Searching our hearts for so long
None of us knowing
Both of us knowing
Love is a battlefield

When you're livin' in a world that's only full of hate
when the only word you've heard is 'discriminate'
you know the love that we're givin' that we're tryin to spread
is wasted on a world that wishes we were dead

We are young
Heartache to heartache we stand
no promises, no demands
love is a battlefield

We are strong
No one can tell us we're wrong
Searching our hearts for so long
None of us knowing
Both of us knowing
Love is a battlefield

No one ever asked me, no one ever dared
no one even tried 'cause no one ever cared
everyone just said that I would not be there
but I am here to tell you that I won't be scared

I'm not what you want
I'm not a child
I'm a man

'Cause love is a battlefield

I will not be afraid
I will NOT fall back
I will stand

Love is a battlefield

We are young
Heartache to heartache we stand
no promises, no demands
'Cause love is a battlefield
We are strong
No one can tell us we're wrong
Searching our hearts for so long
None of us knowing
ALL of us kn owing
Love is a battlefield

If it's not too much trouble, go here and check out the video (and hear my loud ass cheering at the end) and then give him some high ratings...because hell, he's trying to do something good and reach people with his music. We could use some good.

edgarallenfrog: various pics of harvey milk (suicide)
Finally; What Happened at Safe School's Lobby Day )

So today at 3 PM I loomed around the IRC building on the Ferris Campus (for those of you who don't know, the IRC building and the Business building are now connected...soon every building on FSU campus will be connected and we will roam around freely through a series of underground tunnels) and then once my motley crew had joined me, I took part in a 4 person interview for FSU television for a show called "Expect Diversity." Dr. Pilgrim (a name that should be recognizable to those who did go to FSU) conducted the interview, and along with me, Penny, Brian, and Susan (a student, a residence hall director and a professor, respectively) talked about the Day of Silence, why it was important, and our thoughts about being GLWTFBBQHIJKLMNOP on campus and in the Big Rapids community. I know I'm a geek and I know it's only broadcast on the local Charter network channel 22 tonight at 9:30, but I'm still geeked about being on TV and being interviewed. I'm staying up past my bedtime tonight to tape the show, and I expect you all to visit me and watch it. :-p (I'm looking at YOU, [livejournal.com profile] peskipiksi).
edgarallenfrog: various pics of harvey milk (werk)
Hey [livejournal.com profile] peskipiksi, I discovered how to make Ketchup edible.

1/2 cup Ketchup
3 TBSP Sriracha Chili Sauce (This stuff is worth buying, it's amazing, and no, [livejournal.com profile] terminal83, I'm not taking that term lightly, I was literally amazed how good this sauce tastes)
3 TBSP Dijon mustard
1 TBSP Schezuan stir fry sauce
3 tsp garlic salt

I used this as a dip for my homemade French fries, and man, they were delicious.

And Now for Something Completely Different )


Mar. 21st, 2008 09:20 pm
edgarallenfrog: various pics of harvey milk (other hot guy)
Well, I struck from 9 PM until 9 PM. Except I forgot 4 times because someone said something exciting and I commented without thinking. whoops. Other than that, I was silent. I don't think it'll make a difference anyway. But it prompted me to finish my 20-page column this month (Ok, it's not 20 pages, but it is 3 1/2 pages solid) and for that I'm grateful I guess. the curse of the stolen card is as resolved as it's going to get...the bank says it's their discretion when to charge fees, so even though I didn't make the charges I have to pay the fees, which I'm not going to do, so the fees are just sitting there and my account is closed. It's very depressing, but whatever. More debt. Ho hum.

I've been sitting up every night unable to sleep going through extreme withdrawal symptoms. Not much fun. I'd like to stop now, ok?

This poem now, again, because it expresses what I feel. Five Iron Frenzy asked once "Is it just the cripples here who understand the truth?" and I'm thinking maybe it is. I know I'm tired of hanging around "normal" people. The weak and the wounded and me, we get along. We're tight. Everyone else can just fuck off and go be strong somewhere else.

I'm tired.

I Say I Say I Say

Anyone here had a go at themselves
for a laugh? Anyone opened their wrists
with a blade in the bath? Those in the dark
at the back, listen hard. Those at the front
in the know, those of us who have, hands up,
let's show that inch of lacerated skin
between the forearm and the fist. Let's tell it
like it is: strong drink, a crimson tidemark
round the tub, a yard of lint, white towels
washed a dozen times, still pink. Tough luck.
A passion then for watches, bangles, cuffs.
A likely story: you were lashed by brambles
picking berries from the woods. Come clean, come good,
repeat with me the punch line 'Just like blood'
when those at the back rush forward to say
how a little love goes a long long long way.

Simon Armitage


Mar. 20th, 2008 08:55 pm
edgarallenfrog: various pics of harvey milk (viva la vie boheme)
Last Post Before Strike, Film at 11.

Say entertaining things to me, or ask me questions or something, or post lyrics or spam me (*cough*cough*[livejournal.com profile] edtheripper*cough*[livejournal.com profile] carrie_is_evil*cough*) and I'll respond when I'm back.

P.S. my account is overdrawn again, I disputed the charges because I didn't make them, they said they're charging me fees anyway, my card has been cut up, and I'm pretty bummed. I don't kno what to do. Hanging myself comes to mind. Anyway. See you all Saturday.
edgarallenfrog: (pissed off)
There are a lot of things I should update about, but I'm not going to. Instead, I give you the following:

Semi-Annual Useless Wank Post that People who are too Cool for School LJ Drama Can Ignore

For those of you who don't know, there's a planned "content strike" throughout livejournal this Friday, March 21.

Here's an explanation of the strike

Here's some information on start times for the strike

More info on WHY the strike is happening

Some discussion of the strike

More discussion of the strike

More info on some stupid things LJ brass have said and how users protesting isn't going to do any good

I hadn't decided yet whether to participate or not, since I'm jaded and cynical and certain that this strike isn't going to make a damn bit of difference, but then I heard more than one person say that the Strikethrough 2007 debacle had been "about fandom wank" and as always when I hear such ignorance, I got pissed off. Here again, I must state my piece on the matter.

Strikethrough 2007 wasn't just a fanfiction hoopla. My account was suspended during that clusterfuck, and I don't go anywhere NEAR fanfiction. Livejournal suspended accounts based on lists of users and what those users had listed in their user interests because pedophile watchdog groups complained that if someone had "child molestation" or "rape" in their user interests, then it must be because that person was FOR child abuse and rape. This is a ridiculous assertion, but of course LJ wanted to look good and make the public think they were caring and protecting children, so over one weekend they suspended all users with these questionable interests, which left some pedophiles free to roam because they didn't have user interests listed and moreover suspended a lot of people like me, who simply had the wrong user interests listed. The reason this affected fandom so badly is because people within fandom obviously write a lot of fanfiction featuring sex between underage characters and sex with older characters and just a lot of sex in general, and that didn't look good to advertisers, and LJ was stupid enough to think they could get rid of it quickly with no one noticing. Of course it didn't work and then they backpedaled and claimed it was a mistake (if so many people hadn't complained, my journal wouldn't have ever been reinstated and I fucking well know that, and so do they, LJ caved to user pressure, as well they should have because they fucked up). But then they called fandom out personally later on in the year 2007 and started removing and censoring fan art, which pissed people off even more. To be blunt, LJ was hoping to be bought by some big corporation, which they now have been, and they were hoping to make millions with ad revenue, and people don't want to advertise with a company that is associated with child porn for any reason. People aren't smart enough to research the issue and even think about freedom of speech or that the characters in fanfiction are, by necessity, FICTIONAL. People hear a whiff of impropriety involving the words "underage" and "sex" and they run screaming in the opposite direction, covering their ears and eyes and this shutting their brains in safe and sound. People don't like to discuss these issues, especially advertisers who could just as easily give their money to some other company that isn't associated in any way with anything that makes people uncomfortable, like art and nuance and things that require a thought process beyond black and white, right and wrong. Is it wrong to write about an underage person having sex with an older person? Is it wrong to read and enjoy such stories? Is it possible to get more than just titillation from these stories? Is it ok to get titillation from these stories? These are big questions, and it's easier to write them off than to answer them, but I can't do that anymore. Without my friends I've found in fandom, I likely wouldn't be here. If Livejournal could have gotten away with what they did suspending my journal, and if people hadn't complained, I don't think they would have bothered fixing their "mistake" and it doesn't surprise me that they're pulling all this bullshit, they have a record of terrible customer service. As long as they're making money, they could care less about anything else. the problem is that when you get a ton of creative people obsessed as I am with certain books and movies and TV shows and their characters, SOME of us are going to make up stories, and a LOT of those stories are going to be risque. Does that mean those voices should be silenced? It certainly would be easier to silence the writers than to ask and answer the questions, especially when you're a company that attracted a bunch of fanfiction writers and other creative people and now doesn't know what to do with them, but that doesn't mean silencing the voices is right or that tidying up the site and in essence making some users invisible because those users might make people uncomfortable is right, either. Livejournal is doing this and has been doing this for years.

Many people may say the content strike isn't going to do a damn bit of good and I'm being ideological. To that I reply, so fucking what? How am I being ideological? I don't think the strike is going to make a difference, I'm doing it because I have a track record of standing up for things I believe in even when they didn't make a difference...why stop now? I don't see how mocking people for participating in the strike is causing any less drama than the strike itself, either. I'll be participating in the content strike of 2008, even though I don't think it's going to do a damn bit of good, because my friends in fandom sent emails and hounded LJ and got me my journal back in the first place, and because this genius who spoke for the company is wrong, users being a pain in the ass HAS made a difference before and could possibly do so again. I don't think it will, but on the off chance, you know, I'll take my chances. Expect a lot of Myspace activity from me on that day. Or maybe not, maybe I'll watch movies and read all day. Who knows. Anything is possible. If you don't want to participate, that's fine, but at least now you've heard a relatively drama-free reason why someone is participating so you can make that decision for yourself.
edgarallenfrog: various pics of harvey milk (werk)
My friend [livejournal.com profile] boobalah got me thinking about this, so I decided to expand my rant comment in her journal and post about it here.

I think it's weird how when we get older suddenly we're supposed to pretend words don't hurt and bullying doesn't matter and we don't care what people think or say. I mean it's all bullshit of course, words hurt and people are cruel and it kills, but we're supposed to pretend it doesn't hurt. But anyway, since I know that's all bullshit and I know someone in high school who recently killed himself in part because of the way he was tortured in school every day, I've decided to do something about it. I'm planning to go to the "Safe Schools Lobby Day Rally" in Lansing on March 26th where constituents get to pester senators about issues, and I'm attending this particular rally to pester my senator to pass the "Matt's Safe Schools" law. It's a law that's aimed at putting a stop to bullying and it's named after Matt Epling, a 14 year old who killed himself mostly due to the horrific bullying he got in school. So Christians would support this, right? I mean, Jesus stood up for people who were being bullied, right? Well the bill lists "sex, sexual orientation" and all that good stuff among "race, religion" and all the other reasons people get bullied, and so Christian organizations are actively opposing it. I mean, it's mostly the rabid right-wingers like the American Family Association, I like to think a lot of Christians are sane and don't act this way, but the AFA ad others say that this bill is part of the homosexual agenda aimed at children and it will act to legitimize homosexual behavior, blah blah blah. So they turned a bill to protect kids into a conspiracy from the homosexual agenda.

Like I said, some Christians are sane and all that, I know, I am one. But it makes me sad that something good has to be turned into something horrible. I'm still excited about going though, if only to help spread the word that words are actions and bullying is a big issue and it's something that we should work to stop as much as we can.

A Little Bit About the Rally

You can read more about the bill here

And you can read more about the AFA's objections and such here





Music is the only thing keeping me alive. These boys have been on repeat all day long. They even kept me from killing a driver who rammed his truck into me when Iw as trying to cross the road and I had the right of way but who cares about that he was in a hurry! DUH! WHY DIDN'T I SEE THAT

Anyway. The=is song in particular song kept me from taking my knife and going stabby. So yeah.

edgarallenfrog: various pics of harvey milk (werk)
In the last 24 hours...

-My good friend has started cutting herself

-My account at Fifth Third bank was overdrawn because my electric company debited my bill WEEK EARLY (I don't get paid until Friday so I can't do anything about it until then

-My debit card for Independent Bank was stolen (I've got the card canceled so no one can steal money and there's only $2 in the account, but still...I don't leave my wallet lying around so it had to be someone at work or someone at the DSAGA group and I don't think it was them and I don't know why someone didn't take the cash...not that I wanted them to do that or anything, but I don't get it...)

-I've come down with the death plague

-The state turned down my Plan First insurance so they want me to pay for my last pelvic exam which is $100 I don't have

I'm so tired. I haven't slept this week, and people have the fucking NERVE to say "whose fault is that?" It's my fault. I purposely didn't sleep for five days just so I could ask for your sympathy because your approval is the only thing I need to get by in life. I admit it, it's my evil scheme. you caught me. I lie awake and can't sleep and stare at the ceiling and think of everyone who doesn't get it, everyone who doesn't understand how a person can break and why they'd do something stupid, everyone who thinks they're better than everyone else so they can sit in their ivory tower and look down on the actions of others, and I'm even more tired. But I still can't sleep.

I miss having a boyfriend. I don't miss my particular boyfriend anymore, but I miss that feeling of hope I had when I had him. It felt good. Of course it was a lie because anything that ever made me feel good was a lie, but it felt good while it was here. It was the first time I felt like that, like I was desirable to someone, like I made someone light up just to see me. Again, lie. But it was nice to feel that way. Someone said this week that I should ask this girl out even though she wasn't my type, and I let slip that I don't have a type. To have a "type" you have to think you're worthy to pick who you want to have sex with, to choose who you find desirable. I've never been that worthy, never felt that way, I was just so happy someone chose me. Now I'm back to where I was before, but I can't go back to not caring like I did before because it hurts so much to have that and then have it taken away from me and be undesirable again. To have hope like that, real hope and light and happiness for the first time and then go back to knowing it was all a lie and to kick yourself for being so stupid and letting yourself hope in a lie. It hurts so much that I can't even put it into words.

It's been almost 2 months since Mike killed himself. I haven't cried in public. I think people see that there's something wrong but I didn't think I showed what's really going on. My friend Jen said "crying's not going to bring him back" and it's not like I don't know that. But I'd give anything to FEEL most days. Well, to feel anything but tired and worthless. I even resorted to watching RENT" tonight to try and make myself cry so I could get some of it out. I'm desperate. It really seems like whatever hope I thought I had wasn't real ever, which I should be used to by now. But I'm not. Money shouldn't be important, right? It's only paper. But I don't have insurance to go to the doctor and don't have money to pay for anything and my wages are soon going to be garnished so I'll have even less. I don't have money for this shit. I tried talking to the electric company and they said it would take them 2 weeks to fix the mistake, and the bank said they wouldn't refund the fees because it wasn't their error, and everyone always says "They can't do that" but obviously they CAN since they ARE and they DID it to me before, back when people helpfully told me that the bank couldn't do it so I believed the fees would be refunded but they never were.

Mike gave me a lot of hope. He was so young that it seemed like the shit that screwed me up hadn't corrupted him yet and he had a future and he had hope and I looked forward to being his friend, to being there and watching while he grew into his sexuality. I just kind of blindly held onto that hope because I feel so purposeless, existing because I can, not because I want to. Everyone says shit like it's so easy. They see pain and they just want it to go away so they make it my fault that I'm in a bad place, because if I followed whatever magical plan they have I'd be able to move and have a place to live and being away from here would suddenly make everything ok and I'd be ok and somehow it's my fault I'm not (this isn't directed at anyone here even though one of you was talking about me leaving this town, I'm not talking to you, you're not the only one who's talked to me about this and I'm addressing the idea not the person, just speaking in general because I'm tired and my nerve endings are worn past the breaking point, so please don't say I'm talking about you, I'm not, I'm just talking because if I don't I'll explode). It's not what people think and the things people say I should do don't work and they're not even the issue, all I want is to fucking sleep and rest for a second, not have someone telling me it's my fault I'm not in a better place and it's not that easy and fuck moving anywhere, I'd be happy to have one fucking week where things let the fuck up and didn't come crashing down on me. One week where I could breathe and didn't worry where the next blow was going to come from. One week where I could sleep. One week where I didn't sit up and wish there was something I could have done to keep my friend from giving up. I want my friend back. I want a world that's safe for people to exist...or at lease people to tell me when they feel like they can't exist, so I can try to do something...but there's nothing I can do. Not that there's anything I can do even for my friend who started cutting herself this week. At least I haven't cut myself...but I feel like it's coming. I feel like I won't stop and I'm afraid but I don't know what to do. If I can scare her, to show her what it's like when you hate yourself so much you start destroying yourself, maybe I can get through to her. I don't know. I know for me, I always hated myself back before I started using knives to show it. I'm so fucking tired. I tried to make food but I can't eat it but I'm still fat anyway you'd think I eat the whole fucking world every night. At least I ate enough that I can stand up and walk and my head has stopped hurting. My throat still hurts so much I don't want to breathe though. I'm tired of feeling useless. I just want a purpose. Or some sleep. I'd take sleep. I'm terrified to sleep. Terrified of what will happen. What happened to me when I slept that made me so scared to ever sleep again? I know, but there's nothing I can do about it. Prescription sleeping pills didn't do anything so over the counter pills aren't going to do jack shit but I take them anyway until I want to vomit and my stomach churns and the sky keeps falling and I'm just a mess and I'm not even saying anything anymore just going around in circles. So I give up.
edgarallenfrog: various pics of harvey milk (empty wallet)
My friend Jaclyn wrote this and posted it yesterday. Yeah, it has some typos, but I'm not going to edit it. I'm really proud of her for posting it in the first place. Back when I met her, she was shy and quiet and ashamed of showing her feelings, and I'm really proud of how far she's come, so I wanted to repost it here.

What She Said )

You can discuss if you want...or ignore. It's just I've had a lot of tragedy happen lately, and my friends seem to be having similar experiences, and this made me think of them, and behind the typos I think she's saying some pretty profound things about how our society tells us to hide our emotions and how that can have some horrific results.

I'd like to reassert my irritation that there's no sidewalk between K-Mart and WalMart. I don't want to dig through a snowbank and I have no food in the house. I'm upset and craving chocolate soymilk and pissed off. Fuck you, big Rapids.


Feb. 15th, 2008 01:47 pm
edgarallenfrog: various pics of harvey milk (empty wallet)
For the moments I feel faint

This is a disclaimer, because sometimes I rant and rave in my journal and say things that sting. It's what I do. I have to get my feelings out because otherwise they're going to eat me alive. I'm glad so many people care about me and want me to move to a big city or a less crazy rabidly fundamental place as Big Rapids. that means a lot to me. But I'm glad I'm here for so many reasons and I know that it's not time for me to move on yet. Let me explain.

I will move on from here at some point, but right now it's not the right thing for me to do. Right now I have a lease and I do have a ministry here. When it's time for me to move on, I will know, and I have options on a few places I want to go. Once my year lease is up here my lease goes to a month-by-month lease so I can move any time I want with a month's notice.

About the ministry here, I plan to scream and cry and get out what I feel in my journal so you will see my doubt on display here, but no matter what I may say, I'm not contradicting myself when I say "I feel like I don't fit in here" and in the same breath say "I know I belong here right now." I had more than one friend flame me and stomp off in a hail of bullets because I refused to acquiesce to their assertion that getting out of here is what I need to do OMG NOW WTFBBQ. I'm not saying you're going to say that, but just in case, I want to explain myself here. I know that for right now I'm serving as a lifeline for some people who need to know that the churches here are wrong. I'm growing and learning every day, and the broken parts of me that would never let me survive in a bigger city are healing, no matter how it might seem like they're not, and there will come a time when I'm ready to move on from here. I'm saying this now because now I have clarity, tonight or even five minutes from now I might be weeping and wailing and uncertain again. that's the brokenness revealing itself. But I'm slowly and surely becoming more aware of who I am and what that means, and despite times like yesterday when I wail that I don't fit in (because I often feel that I don't) I can see myself and I'm not the same person I was even a year ago, I see improvement. When I feel faint, and there are a lot of those moments in my life, everything comes rushing back to me and I remember why I've always felt unworthy. But I'm not the same person I was then, I'm growing, and it's working slowly but surely so that when I do move on, I will know it's my time. I went 'round about this when my ex kicked me out last year, when I had the opportunity to move but I didn't know where to go. The apartment here opened up and it's been a godsend, and though there were (and still are) people who say it was the wrong decision for me to stay in this area and not move, I now know, after finding this GLWTFBBQ group and finding friends and starting to learn who I am and find myself brave after many years of fear and trembling, I know it was right to stay as much as I know someday there will be a time to move on. I'm in a college town and every year I meet people who will graduate and move on, that serves as a constant reminder of the transience of this life and why I can't stay here. I won't forget that someday I will need to move on, and when that time comes, I will know.

I'm not yelling at anyone here, though usually when I make a post like this at least one of my friends says I'm yelling at him/her and it turns into a flame war and I lose friends. I've just had about 5 people ask me in the space of a few days why I'm still in Big Rapids, and I'm trying to answer that here. I'm just trying to explain why I've stayed here in this small narrow minded place for so long because a lot of people ask me that ad it's a valid question, and people keep telling me it's just my fear of something new and I know it's not that but they won't listen to me when I try to tell them that. At first it was fear of something new that kept me staying in one place, but I've come to see over the years that it's more than that now. It was time for me to meet John, time for me to have my first boyfriend, time for me to get my heart broken, time for me to meet Bailey and have my first relationship with a girl, time for me to figure out what that means, time for me to meet my friends now and slowly figure out my place in this world and how to fit in there. The last time I had this discussion with someone she flew off the handle and said I was contradicting myself and making excuses and blah blah blah, but that's not it. I just am coming to realize that I have a place and right now it's here and when it's time to move on, I'll be ready.
edgarallenfrog: various pics of harvey milk (werk)
I probably should be posting this here, but who knows.

Wednesday afternoon I was working in drive-thru and one of my old pastor's wives came through and when she saw it was me, she refused to speak to me and handed the money to her daughter so her daughter could pay. This shouldn't have surprised me, because I've had major blowouts with a lot of the churches in town. I've been kicked out of two of the churches because I was shy and they told me that was a sin I needed to let go of before I could be a successful Christian. Back then it seemed like one thing or another had made me unworthy and impure ever since I was a little kid and whatever it was there was no escaping it. So you'd think I'd be used to it by now, but somehow this particular pastor's wife still knows how to get to me. She and I were close friends once. That probably has a lot to do with it. When that pastor and his wife kicked a 17 year old out of their church because they found out he was gay and they held a youth meeting and said he was "leading other people into the lifestyle" I knew I had to get out of there before my silence lent credence to their behavior, but leaving ignited a storm of gossip and hate that I wasn't ready for. I always think I'm prepared for things like that, but this is Big Rapids and it's small and what I'm never prepared for is running into these people elsewhere after the big blowout is over and having them refuse to speak to me, or in this case having a car full of kids I used to babysit glare at me like that. It stings.

Part of trying to make a difference in this town in particular is about being who I am and being open and trying to educate others by making GLBT issues real to them because I'm real to them. But I sit at meetings every week and feel like a liar because I don't feel worthy and I never have so how can I convince others that "gay (or whatever the heck I am) is ok" if I don't really think I'm ok and I never have? How can I possibly contribute anything with that attitude? Is it enough that I'm trying to be real and trying to reach out?

I don't even know and I don't know why I'm typing this. Probably because I'm tired of thinking it and not saying it aloud. I'm sorry I ramble so much.
edgarallenfrog: various pics of harvey milk (music obsession)
[livejournal.com profile] pewter_wings, you especially will like this. I decided to study Tich Naht Hanh, are you happy? :-p But these are really beautiful, and one of the most important people in my life, my friend Dave, recorded them. He's nervous about sharing them, but I've been listening to them all night and right now they're the only thing keeping me holding on.

Powered by

The first and the last (the aloha and the omega, she said pretentiously) are my favorites. Actually, I'm an ass, I dunno if they come up as the first and the last in this little player, I just know that's the way they are on his page. Well, um..."Today is the Only Day" and "That is Enough" are my favorites.


I'm cold, you guys. In the state I'm in right now, if that cunt screams at me in front of a customer tomorrow I'll rip her throat out. Send me good thoughts and toilet paper wishes if you would. I'm really not doing so well.


Feb. 3rd, 2008 08:40 pm
edgarallenfrog: various pics of harvey milk (werk)
Are you kidding me?

I just realized I'm out of toilet paper and I don't have money or get paid until Friday.


edgarallenfrog: various pics of harvey milk (werk)
I didn't expect to go to church today. My alarm went off for 15 minutes without me even hearing it and I was groggy and scared and wobbly, but I went. I wanted to run away when I got there, but I stayed. You'll all be happy to hear that my proud tradition of fucking up the communion service is intact, because I walked up and the wrong time so I had to stand around at the front of the church like a moog while I waited for everyone else to stand up so I had a space to kneel at the altar, and I forgot to make the sign of the cross, and I forgot to say "thanks be to God" when they handed me the wafer and said "the body of Christ" and when they went by with the wine and said "the blood of Christ" and somehow I ended up in the front of the line instead of in back so there was no one for me to watch doing it first so I'd be sure to do it right, and not only that, I was the only one who took the wafer and dipped it in the wine this time, everyone else decided to mix it up and sip from the cup unlike last time. I am destined to not know what the fuck I'm doing. I practically ran to the back of the church again when I was done. I'm not very reverent looking. The thing is though, I don't know what that reveals to other people. I'm sure the people in the pew in front of me, who rolled their eyes at me and whispered more than once don't think I'm very reverent. But it means so much to me, the wafer and the wine, the little tangible reminders, things I can hold and touch, things that represent god. I cried for a long time at home just thinking about them. Whatever the little disruptors like me do to church services, our lack of refinement and our lack of things to say and inability to belt out prescribed answers during the "blessing of the peace" doesn't mean that it doesn't mean anything to us. I miss my suave old self who could flit in and out and call and respond with the best of them, the one who was pretending and whole, the one who fit in. But she's gone and there's only me, the embarrassed one crying in the back, the one who stares wide-eyed in fear because she can't cry most of the time. But it doesn't mean the service and the symbols mean nothing to me. They mean everything because they're as tangible as anything else I have to remind me of the love I'm seeking. It makes me tired thinking about my moogieness. But I want to try and be there. Today was hard. I never expect the whispering and eye rolling and head shaking, it always seems to take me by surprise when it happens. I wish I could get credit for effort when I'm fucking everything up. I mean, I wanted to bolt out the door and run away, especially when I stood there like a moron because I went up at the wrong time, I wanted to turn and run away but I didn't.


I didn't run away though. Then or afterward. I mean, I tried to. But the priest was the old guy that I remembered from when I came to the church before, Richard something, and he's a good speaker. And he tackled me in the back and told me he wanted me to stay for coffee, and he found another person in the church and asked her to take me to get coffee, so I hung around with her, and sat at a table with some other people after she was gone. I was a big moog from moogieville, but I went. And I tried. The priest got my address and name and phone number and told me he'd have me added to the...something, I don't know what. I feel a slight bit more connected than I did before.

Still a moog though.

Where is my suave refined Christian self? Where is the snobby one who had all the answers and knew what to say, the one who could appear composed in front of a large group of people and didn't look all broken and empty and terrified? I mean, it wasn't perfect I guess. I thought I had it together but the campus minister told me they all knew something was wrong with me, so apparently it wasn't enough. But I didn't feel like such a moog back then. I could at least pretend I had this church thing down and it didn't affect me and I knew what to say and what to do and what to be. I can't seem to pretend anymore. I don't like it.

One thing I do like, though, is now I'm listening to my Christian music again. I haven't done that in a long time, but on Sundays when this nebulous god thing is all I'm thinking about, it's nice to have music that speaks to what I'm seeking. It's weird, and I skip a lot of songs, and I hear the shades of judgment and the "we're the cool kids and you're not in if you're not one of us" and the jargon and all that I couldn't recognize when I was on the other side of being acceptable to the church as most people recognize it. I don't know where I am now exactly and part of me wonders how I can believe god loves me in the same breath that I somehow believe all my sin is ok, all everyone's sin is ok, and I feel like I'm justifying so much and ignoring god's wrath and even INCURRING god's wrath for even deigning to think god could be ok with all that I am. But I still listen. And I plan to still go. And not run away. I plan to still try. Right now that's all I've got. My debt looms and my fear that I won't be able to pay my bills and my fear that I'll get screamed at in front of customers every day looms large in my mind, and I'm burned and burned out and tired. But I'm still here and I'm still trying.


Jan. 28th, 2008 07:46 pm
edgarallenfrog: various pics of harvey milk (werk)
Getting up at 6 every morning is kicking my ass. Plus dealing with snippy-snap at work and hauling scalding hot grease out to the hot grease dumpster in the morning is really hard. Today I dropped the grease shuttle (it's very slippery and heavy and awkward) and it fell on me. I have burns all up and down my arm and some on my face. the ones on my lips hurt like hell. I'm tired and hot and in pain and I don't want to go to work tomorrow for 8 hours, or the next day for 9 hours with snippy-snap all day long. The stress is really getting to me. I wish I had some burn ointment but I don't have any money. I want to cry. I'm going to go do that.
edgarallenfrog: various pics of harvey milk (accepted)

I went to the GLHIJKLMNOP meeting on Wednesday night. Let's just say I'm still not savvy in dealing with groups of people. I don't get it. I don't know what people are thinking or feeling or even what they're saying half the time, and I was so frustrated and pissed after the meeting that I stomped the whole way home on my swollen and split open foot and said I wasn't going ever again. I was THAT pissed. And to top it all off, my friend Kenny was being an annoying jerk all night (he's good at that) and when I was cowering in the corner of the meeting room after the meeting he came over and said "You're acting just like April" (his ex wife). I rolled my eyes and said "You know what Kenny? Good night." And walked home, and later that night he stopped by my friend Jen's house and told her I had "flipped out at him." Yep, that was way flipping out. I DID flip out that night, but not at him, it was later in my apartment when I was panicking and freaking out that I totally flipped. If he thinks that's flipping out he needs to get a clue or two. He's about the most annoying person on the face of the earth most of the time and he needs to fall off the face of the earth as soon as possible. He's a good little button pusher (plus who besides eight year olds insults someone by calling them someone else's name? "Oh YEAH? Well you're like BOB. Take THAT!")

So that was a failure and a half, but the next day there was going to be a roundtable discussion featuring local pastors discussing issues of social justice (all in honor of MLK Jr. weekend) and there was going to be an openly gay pastor from Grand Rapids participating in the discussion, and he wanted to meet with people from DSAGA (the official name of the GLBYOBNAACP group, Diverse Sexuality And Gender Alliance) before the roundtable discussion and just hang out and talk with us. So I forced myself to go despite having to fight to think that people don't hate me and think I'm stupid (my brain likes to tell me that because it thinks if it tells me that I'll cower inside my apartment and not walk out in the cold on my cracked and bleeding feet and yes, before you ask I've tried every foot treatment and lotion that the land of OTC can offer, nothing works). So anyway, I went, and not only did I survive, the pastor was actually pretty cool. You guys know me and my history with pastors...but this one wasn't bad. He seemed nice and personable and human (which is something I admire, though I know they all appear that way before you get to know them and the claws come out). Something new in my "spiritual journey" is seeing pastors as people. It's not something I was used to, I put everyone on a pedestal (which I defend in part because I didn't do it intentionally, and because they were supposed to be speaking for and representing god to a congregation, so I think that invites a higher level of scrutiny) but it's interesting to view it from outside the church (or maybe form my new place inside the church, who knows) and see them as human beings struggling with things just as I do. I can't put it into words but it makes sense in my head; seeing someone who doesn't sit around all day fearing that god hates him but instead works to understand and seek god working from the presupposition that god loves him...I wish I could do that. I want to do that. I've been trying my whole life to do that. and it was inspiring to see.

Then the discussion itself got underway. It was scary to be in a room with that many pastors. No one would ever choose to do that. but they were being remarkably human and that was good to see. I see enough fake people in my life, I'm required to be happy and please customers all day long so I lie my way through many a time I want to strangle people, I don't want that in my church too, I want people to be real. There was a lot of realness that night, and I appreciated it, even when it made my skin crawl (pastors have that affect on me). One of the pastors, Kevin Payne, is the pastor at the Assembly of God church here in Big Rapids, if you guys remember the fun that ensued when I went to that church a few years ago. For those who don't, here's the run down: they had a weekly prayer meeting for "real Christians" and not the "timid, shy, or fearful," I talked to the pastor and protested that phrase being used to describe the prayer meeting, we went back and forth a few times, finally I said "I feel like it's saying I'm not welcome because I'm timid, shy, and fearful," and he replied, "most people don[t realize that shyness is a form of pride, trying to separate yourself from others, and if you're not willing to let god work on that, then we DON'T want you here," so I said "Ok, I'm leaving the church if you don't want me here, best of luck making headway in this area with that attitude" and I never went back. But seeing him there that night reminded me why I stayed at that church so long. He has one of those voices I could listen to for hours, and I believe he's 100% sincere in everything he says, whether I agree with him or not, he believes what he's saying. He's one of those people that you want to listen to even when what they say makes you angry, if that makes any sense. I respect that about him, I always have. The other pastors were a hodgepodge group, two methodists, a UCC trainee, a Lutheran, Pastor Kevin the AG rep, and then our guy, George Miller the openly gay pastor from Grand Rapids. the discussion turned into a debate at times and got heated, and people insulted each other in that nice Christian way where you offer a backhanded compliment like "We love you even if you're gay; your sin is no worse than mine" "but...but...you just presupposed a conclusion in your-" "hush, child, we love you." But somehow the conversation managed to always steer back to the topic of social justice and how we're all trying to live that out in our lives and congregations. It was eye-opening. Not always fun, but then, I find unfun things fun most of the time. The discussion was a bit choppy, and the specific focus on Dr. King seemed a bit forced to me because I don't think Dr. King would have wanted us to be sitting around discussing him, he lived and died for a cause and I truly believe he'd want that cause featured foremost in our discussions so he would be able to see he hadn't died in vain. Or at least that's what I believed. the most profound thing to me about Dr. King wasn't all the good and wonderful things he achieved, the things he helped motivate people to do, because I grew up with those stories as a kid the way I grew up with stories about David in the bible and Samson in the bible, great heroes. then I got older and read for myself and learned that Samson and David did some pretty horrible things in their lives, and I got glimpses of the hope that someday I could achieve something great, too. I didn't really connect with Dr. King's story until I heard about some of his flaws, some things he might have done wrong in his life, because those to me brought him down off the pedestal and made him human. Again I was able to believe that even we flawed and fragile humans can achieve something greater than what we are. To me, that's more inspiring than the most inspiring speech, not that Dr. King spoke, but that he lived what he spoke, every day, in spite of his flaws and humanness, and that he motivated people to change the world.

Here are some of the highlights from the night:

The United Methodist pastor seemed to echo some of my thoughts above when he said Dr. King was a great motivator because he convinced people to do things that would be difficult or scary. "He had to motivate to get people to believe in something that would be hard to do."

The Free Methodist pastor said that it was hard for people to discuss things civilly because they wanted to change people's minds, he said we think "We'll be on the same page as soon as you agree with me."

Wendy Samuels, a social work professor and moderator of the event, said "This is an opportunity for you to be intentional about learning." I love going to conferences and such for just that reason. It's hard for me to be around people, but I know that's the only way I'll learn, so I go.

One of the men in the audience, said that we expect the world to change overnight and we need to be patient and take the time to learn from each other and make things work. He said "We live in a microwave generation. We want our food now, but our food is killing us."

There was some great discussion about churches reaching out to young people and one of the moderators said that until churches accepted youth, as loud and messy as they might be, then "youth ministry" would be just a name. A-fucking-men.

As expected, the biggest clusterfuckle of the night was when the topic turned toward homosexuality, someone tried to turn it away, it got turned back, and it had to be forcefully turned away again because people were about ready to start fires. Or at least I was. I don't mind listening to people, and I'd rather they come right out with their "yes, dear, you're a sinner and if you don't change you're going to burn forever in hell for disobeying god" stuff rather then sitting quietly and pretending they don't think it. It's still hard to hear, though. The pastor from the Free Methodist church told this two million hour long story about this lesbian couple in his church and how he loved them and promised to love them but he told them he can't sit there and say the bible doesn't call them sinners, and why wasn't that good enough for them? Because they didn't want to hear the truth. It's about here that Rev. Miller (Grand Rapids) interrupted and said "Can I interrupt here? I was wondering if we could get back on the subject of Dr. King here, because I was invited here to participate in this discussion and talk about changing the world through a message, and I've just been told I can't be a part of that because I'm a gay man." That hurt. As did his response to my friend Jen when she asked if she could go into any of the pastor's churches and not be judged even if she has scars on her arms or if her friend Kenny is wearing a dress, and Rev. Miller said that sometimes we walk into those kinds of situations expecting others to judge us and that's being judgmental. He's right, I'm not disputing that, but I've been told most of my life that I'm judging people, that I want them to agree with me, and that I hate people who aren't like me, and it's taken years and years for me to be able to understand that no, I don't want everyone to be like me, and I'm even ok with people not understanding me. I don't even understand myself half the time, I don't expect other people to understand me. What I want and need more than anything in the world is to be able to believe that god understands me and that god loves me, and if I can get there, then everything else will be ok. Really ok. I've spent my life trying to change who I am, everything about me, every impure unholy ounce of my being, and this has been going on years and years and years before I ever licked a pussy. My problem isn't about other people, though they will always skeeze me out a little bit, it's about god. I know from the bottom of my heart that I am a sinner and a failure and a screw up of the most monumental proportions. I don't need to believe that I am free from sin or mistakes...but I know there are some things I do that are a part of who I am, and those things won't change. I've tried. I am who I am in spite of that trying. so what I need is to be able to believe that god loves me, not "god loves me, but." I've lived with that "but" my entire life. I want to believe god's love, whatever that is. I will always be attracted to places where people are seeking god because community is part of how I experience god, it always has been and always will be. But I'm not looking for attention, I'm looking for god. I'm not looking for answers, I'm looking for the deity who is the reason my questions exist. I want to find that. Desperately. I'm trying. People can't accept me because I'm weird and different, I have been all my life, and to make that all about one thing, one thing that is the reason I don't fit in is vastly unhelpful to me. So I'm with Rev. Miller that the focus on homosexuality is stupid because it's missing the point. It scares me to be "with" a pastor on anything. I try to avoid agreeing with them at all costs. But I like how he challenged me not to come into situations expecting people not to accept me (yes, he challenged me, me personally, screw those other people there, me me me the center of the universe). I'll have to think about that one. And I'll have to think about this:

"Homosexuality isn't brokenness, it's an aspect of wholeness that we don't understand yet."

Guess who said that one? Yeah, I'll be thinking about that. thinking a lot. I'm so glad I went to this event. I got a little closure with pastor Kevin, and I got a lot of things to ponder.

It's only one more day until D-Day and we'll see if I'll go to church Sunday. God have mercy on my soul.


Jan. 21st, 2008 05:44 pm
edgarallenfrog: various pics of harvey milk (werk)
I knew it, I fucking knew it. It's been, what, three seconds since something went wrong in my life? Well I need to make a maintainence post now. I'm tired and hurting and crying and upset so I'm going to sound angry. I'm sorry in advance.

1. I love you all. Please hear me when I say this. Don't give me advice unless I ask for it. Don't. It's the rules, it's what I've asked time and again. I know you're trying to help, I know you care, I know you mean well. But I'm really tired right now. I say things and then people advise me saying things I already addressed in my post and I feel like...I know you care, but please don't give me advice unless I ask for it. Please. Ok? If this makes you mad, you can drop me from your friend's list. I won't be offended and I'll still wish you well.

2. I'm on suspension from work. I don't work all this week. I got a bad evaluation at work, some customer said I was rude, so I'm not going to work all this week. that means I'll be missing almost $150 on my next paycheck and won't be able to pay my bills. I've been crying all day and now I'm just numb. I wasn't evebn rude to anyone, you guys. I don't know what I'm going to do. I just want to give up and shoot myself, I'm so tired of fighting and I feel like it's not safe to even come here because people are going to misunderstand what I say or not read it and then butt in and tell me what to do when I've already said even in that specific post that I've already tried it. I'm so sad and scared and don't know what to0 do. Why does this always happen to me? What did I do to God that was so horrible to deserve this? I try so hard. I'm so hurt and upset. Please if this makes you mad just drop me off your friend's list, I don't want a fight. I just want to die.
edgarallenfrog: (pissed off)
Well, the day is over. Yes, I got up at 7, but my body decided to wake up at 3 AM in full migraine mode so bad I was crying and couldn't see and I tossed and turned over and over after that. But I got up for good at 7 AM, dicked around a little, then made the trudge to church.

Let me tell you, I suck at Episcopalian. I forgot when to stand and sit and kneel, and the bulletin wasn't written as well as two years ago when I went, sometimes it said nothing but everyone else stood or knelt, so I looked like an idiot. And it was definitely harder than last time, I was cowering in my pew, trying to edge away from people when they did the "hey, walk around and greet everyone" moment, and I felt so rude because people followed me and I couldn't speak, literally couldn't say anything to them and I felt like they were all looking at me thinking "God, she's a rude dumb bitch." Yeah yeah yeah, it's irrational. I don't care. It's how I felt. I wanted to run away. then the Priest (who was way younger than the last Priest they'd had) Did his sermon, and he pulled out a book called "The Giving Tree." Oh fuck. He HAD to do that.


Ok, story time? Does everyone know the story of "The Giving Tree"? I'll summarize. It's about a boy and a tree, and when the boy is young he loves the tree, and the tree gives him shade, then when he's older the tree gives its fruit so he can sell it and make money, then when he gets older the tree gives its branches so he can have a house, then when he gets older the tree gives its trunk so he can build a boat and sail away, then when he's finally a really old feeble man the tree gives him a stump to sit on and rest. It's a cute story and it's a good illustration of God's love (or anyone's love for us that is unconditional and that person loves us even when we can give nothing back). But when I was in college in my campus ministry, one time right before Christmas I confided in my campus minister that after so many years there I felt like I didn't have friends because everyone loved me conditionally, they wanted me to be someone else, they couldn't accept who I was and there was so much they wanted me to change. Well he said I was being prideful and sinful of course, then a few weeks later his wife gave me a present and I was so flattered and happy to have something to open on Christmas because I didn't have a family or get presents, I was just so happy so I waited until Christmas to open the present, and it was a copy of that book "The Giving Tree" and inside the front cover she had written "Lillian: from your "friends." Hopefully one day you will realize the meaning of this story and realize how you treat us."


I'm crying so hard right now and I HATE it. I hate it, you guys. They took that book and used it as a weapon. I felt so ashamed that day with that present, so stupid for looking forward to having a present and being excited only to find THAT. I sat in that church today and every ounce of shame I felt came back and I felt so horrible. I felt so unworthy. I'm not like the people at that church, I didn't even know when to stand and when to sit and when to kneel, and when they have people come up at the end for communion I just sat there frozen and they looked at me (the ushers) but I couldn't even meet their eyes. I sat there and felt so horrible, and then after it was all over I waited until a path was clear to the door and I ran. I felt so horrible, I couldn't even talk to people, I couldn't even cry (though I'm going to town with those tears now as I try to write this). I just felt so frozen and scared and out of place like I didn't belong because those people were good people and I was a horrible prideful person who only cared about herself.

I don't know if I'm saying it right or if these words can convey how horrible all this stuff is, even the things I've never told anyone about His House and my other churches. I mean I never wanted to treat people at His House like shit and take and take and never give anything back, but I DID give back, I bought them gifts and showered them with cards and thanks and I gave money and went on mission trips, that was far from a one-sided love fest there, and I didn't tell my campus minister my dark innermost feelings to have him run and tell other people so they could give me a guilt trip wrapped in shiny Christmas paper. I felt so ashamed then, such a terrible person just like I did when I was little and everything my mom said about what a horrible bad girl and a slut I was came rushing back, and she said no one would ever love me when they got to really know me and I tried not to believe that but it kept coming true. And I felt so ashamed. And that wasn't the only time, there are so many things, things I've told people before and then also things like the incident with the book that I've never told anyone. I feel alternately shameful and horrible and prideful and broken, like it's not my fault and it's all my fault at the same time. This is how I've always felt and I can't seem to put it into words. How I've always wanted god (and I've tried other faiths and other paths, they're not for me, I feel most moved by the rituals of Christianity and nothing else does more than irritate me, I've tried). But I feel like I'm so afraid to reach out to this god because I don't want to hope and be hurt again. It hurts so much everyday and I don't know if I can take anymore. I'm fucked either way I go, because I miss church when I don't go but I feel so horrible when I DO go and I don't know how to get over that. Next week there won't be an 8 AM service so I'll have to go to the service with all the people, and I want to go so bad and want to take communion and want to greet the people but I'm so AFRAID. I feel so open and exposed and dirty and unholy there. I don't know what to do but cry but I don't want to just sit there and cry either and be the stupid freak who sticks out like a sore thumb. AGH. I mean, while I sat there in church I was moved a lot of times. I mean, when we knelt and read from the book of common prayer and prayed for our sins to be forgiven, that stirred my soul and it wasn't in a bad way, I thought of individual sins I wanted forgiven and I felt a flicker of a freedom and a release in saying those words and thinking of those specific sins, like a flash of lightening glimpse, a momentary touch of forgiveness and healing, and then it was gone, but that instant was so good. there were a few of those. But the rest was so terrifying. I feel like I could really get in touch with the god I see there if I could be in the church myself and go through these rituals, but then at the same time I know that's not right (maybe for some people but not for me) because I've done these same rituals alone in my room and I don't feel the same unless I'm in a community with other people who are seeking god too, even if our paths are different. The community is part of what makes the experience work. But then I feel fear because I don't want to be exposed like that and I feel like maybe all those Christians were right and I don't want god all I want is attention and I'm really as horrible and evil as they say and I want someone to say that's not true but then even wanting that is wanting attention and it means all the Christians were right.

And I'm a fucking screwed up mess is what I am. FUCK this. All I wanted to do was make a jokey little post about how "I suck at Episcopalian" and make you guys laugh and move on, I wasn't going to say all this but now here I am weeping and splashing my verbal diarrhea all over the internet. JESUS CHRIST.

Yeah. whatever. So then I worked for six hours and it sucked and I wanted to shoot myself and everyone else. The end. My great day. I limped to church only to limp through the whole service like a fucking wounded bird or something (yes I know wounded birds don't limp, stop interrupting my mixed metaphors asshole). I just feel so discombobulated. There's my triumphant "return to church" post, I was a big wuss and didn't even take communion and I stood around like an idiot staring blankly at everyone else and felt like a dirty whore. Woo hoo. How was your day?


Jan. 18th, 2008 05:08 pm
edgarallenfrog: various pics of harvey milk (werk)
Dud guys, my book is so awesome. I passed the 30,000 word mark today and I'm reading and agreeing with all my brilliant points. I love myself. :-p~~~

I've been crying all day. First, I watched "Celebrity Rehab" on VH1 last night and that fucking show makes me bawl and have flashbacks and panic attacks every goddamn time I watch it. Fuck that shit. But I want to see what happens just because I remember my own experiences, so I put myself through it and stay up all night freaking out. Then I walk to work in the cold and snow and want to die, then I got to work and I'm tired and we're busy right off the bat, so I jump in and get screamed at by Leesa, formerly known as "crazy pregnant lady." Remember when you asked me if she was always like this or it was only mood swings because she's pregnant [livejournal.com profile] blindingrhyme? Well, then I didn't know because I'd only known her when she was pregnant. Now I can safely say she's a fucking cunt and she needs to be knocked off her "I'm queen of the world" pedestal before I break her face. Outside of work, she's ok. Inside she's a Nazi who berates and snaps at everyone for what she perceives as their mistakes, but if she thinks she sees you looking at her crosseyed she screams at you for being so mean and rude. It makes me want to stab things. Namely her face. Everyone was in a pissy, snappy mood today and my migraine hurt and my head hurt (not always the same thing though that may seem strange) plus my feet hurt because they were swollen and bleeding from walking to work in this godforsaken weather and having to be bundled up in socks and shoes all day causes them to swell, crack, and bleed. AGH. Good thing I don't stand on my feet all day at work. Oh wait...

Then I got home and I had a card from my mom. She got my Christmas gift I sent out last Friday. She wants me to write her. This is huge because the last communication I got in the mail from her years ago said she would never understand how I could do what I did to my family and she never wanted to hear from me again but I was always her child and she would always love me. She's large with the guilt-trip, my mom. I saw her for Christmas a few years ago and she looked so old and frail it broke my heart. I took the time to pick out a gift I knew she loved, nutcracker figurines (because she loved collecting them when I was a kid) and I picked out a Christmas card that I knew would touch her heart because it talked about loving memories from the past and how a mother's love was important even if she didn't always hear from me. It was a big deal to hear from her. My brother still hates me, but I do love him, and her, and I do want to try opening lines of communication. I want to shower her with gifts as much as I can on my budget because I want to make her smile. Whatever she did to me as a kid...she did love me, and I know it, and I want to try and make her happy however I can. I don't know if any of that makes sense, but I do love my mom a lot and it means a lot that she wrote me back with no guilt trip, and I just...I'm repeating myself, but I love her and I wan to try and be a family as much as I can.

*takes break to cry for awhile*

So yeah. then i worked on my book and made myself cry again. I need to quit this. what's all this crying bullshit? I used to be cold and uncaring and dead inside; I need to get back to that. It was easier that way.

Ok, so another crying point...remember how I was going to go to chu8rch on Sunday? I still am planning to, but guess who wasn't scheduled to work but is now scheduled to work? Guess! GUESS!!!!! I now HAVE to go to the 8 AM service, no other way I can go, so I have to set my alarm for 6:30, get up, get together and go, sit in church and freak out and die, resurrect myself, dick around for an hour and a half, probably kill myself and resurrect myself again, then walk to work and work an 8 hour shift. YAY OMG IM SO HAPPY CANT U TELL?!?!?

The only redeeming value to all this is now I will have Monday off, a real day off where I don't have to go anywhere or be anything that makes me uncomfortable, and I might have some down time. If any of my friends guilt trip me about not hanging out I will strangle them. seriously, is it that hard to understand my psychosis? Jesus, people.

So yeah...sad day of crying, but YAY BOOK, and OMG NO SCARY CHURCH RUN AWAY looming in the distance. I'm cold. I'm going to go crank my heat and try to find something to eat and resist the urge to splatter my brains across the walls (what brains? Ha ha). I'll catch you all later. Send thoughts of good and prayers and bombs so I don't have to go to church my way if you would. I love you all.


edgarallenfrog: various pics of harvey milk (Default)

May 2009

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