I live!

Okay, I know it's been months and months. Sorry about that. But I've been mad busy with school (finished summer semester with a 3.0) and this semester I'm taking Astronomy with the lab. Which means physics. Which means I'm thoroughly fucked. But I haven't forgotten the place.

Other news, I'm now 27. Turned it on the 12th, and so far it's been a GOOD year. I've got my own apartment starting mid-October, which is awesome. It's 600 sq feet, shotgun style, and it's all mine until December 2009 (longer lease since I'll be in school). I've got to do some painting the first week, so I won't move in proper until the next weekend. It'll cost about 968, counting utilities. I'll have to pay for my phone and cable box (extended basic comes with the utilities, and wireless). It's a triplex of an old 1930s bungalow in the city.

Since I got my trust, I've gone a little crazy but I'm curbing it now. I got a better wardrobe, to get a job with. It's necessary to look nice. I refuse to discuss the buyout of Merrill Lynch by Fuck Me Over America. Refuse. And my main account for everyday is under threat, too. Fantastic. Really.

I went to Dragon*Con this year, but mostly used it as a vacation. I was so tired and sore I couldn't stand it. So I mostly slept. Saw a few famous people peeps. Went to a few interesting book panels.

Other than that, let's see. I'm working my ass off to get into Georgia State by spring. I hate our political choices this season and I'm not voting for either. I'm gunning for Mickey Mouse myself. I need to do absentee next week. Like I give fuck on who wins. We're fucked with the government spending either way.

Ooh, and before I forget, someone wants to date me. Hot damn. He's an IT guy - I think - at Emory and very nice. We'll see how that goes, but I hope it goes somewhere. He makes me smile a lot. And I get a giddy feeling when we talk or email. It's just...nice. He contacted me the same day I got the apartment. Hot damn.

I think that's all on the updates, well important ones anyway. Hopefully I'll be back fairly soon. I've been balls to the walls busy.

Not Agaaaaaain

Here it is. Snow. Again. We had snow on Wednesday and now apparently on Saturday. I'm wondering if we'll get it on Monday. Though, I really don't wanna miss classes on Tuesday since I missed it on Thursday.

A little background. It started snowing sometime between 3:30 and 4:30 Wednesday afternoon. It was during my first class in any case. I thought "screw it, I'll go home." Got about two minutes from campus and decided to go back. See, I don't like missing class if possible. It tends to fuck up my learning momentum, and it's hard for me to get back into the swing of things. So I go back for math class, and we do one whole section. We got out like 45 minutes early. The little snowflakes I saw before math had covered the ground in massive amounts. The line getting out of campus was insane. Seriously, it was like traffic hour on 85. Which for those of you not Atlanta born, that means it's like trying to find a parking spot on Black Friday. Yeah, exactly. Except that's every weeknight.

Anyway, I managed to scoot around and use the back way I discovered by accident earlier last week. So I get in line, with a stoplight no less, and I'm like "screw taking Peachtree Industrial." The line was so massive to just turn, and no. I go to Buford Hwy instead. Now, going this route is not a favorite way for me. It's in a kinda seedy part, and hello, single girl rolling through. But I finally get to the highway, get in an lane, waiting to turn.

The light changes and everyone starts to turn, because hey, turn light. All of a sudden I see brake lights ahead. I slam on my brakes but still tap into the guy in front of me. By the way? I have this high pitch scream-squeal every time I get in an accident. It's so girly and sooo not me normally. Now, the problem with this is that those of us that were turning...were still turning! Oh, yes. Someone about four cars in front decided to just stop while trying to switch lanes. Because clearly you need to do that when no traffic is in the other lane since you're leading both turning lanes. I pull over to the other guy, completely freaked that I've fucked up his car, while driving my godmom's car, and on her insurance. We're at a closed car dealership, because you know, snow on the ground (another reason it was a fantastic idea to just stop in the middle of a turning area) so everyone's at the store stocking up on toilet paper, bread, and milk. Don't ask me, Southern thing.

I get out, check my car and his and am visible happy that I didn't even dent the car. Seriously, when you're going a whopping five miles, not going fast there. I knock on the window, make sure he's already (he is), and then he wants my insurance information and name. I hand it over and go back to my car to get out the cold weather. The guy gets out, checks his car, and I'm just babbling about why in the world someone would just stop in the middle of bad weather to merge in a lane when no one was going past them (a common affliction, I might add). He writes down his address and phone number saying that it doesn't look like there's any damage but he needs to see in the morning. I agree, get the info he's written down, and we take off. See, we didn't even need the cops. Go team me. I didn't want it on my license, what can I say?

I get home explain it all to my mom, and kind of live in shell-shocked land until I fall asleep about 2. What? I was worried. I decided then that fuck it, I wasn't going to class. I don't care what I missed. I took the day off, worrying if his car had any damage. My mom calls him up and asks about 6 (talk about a day of torture), and it turns out that other than a teeny tiny paint chip, you can't notice he'd been hit. So I'm off the hook! Damn right I'm a good driver. After that I felt so much better. Like loads.

That was Wednesday/Thursday. Today I looked out and saw the scene you see in the pic. Sorry about the crappy photo. I guess it was something with the lights that did the weirdness. But yes, photogenic proof that Atlanta can in fact get snow twice in one week without it being a blizzard.

Fly Away

Well, this won't come as a shock to anyone who has spoken more than two words to me before, but I'm a cynical romantic at heart. Ah, I know. They're kinda opposites. Actually, there's no kinda about it. But I am very much someone that wants others to be happy (unless you're stupid enough to land on my 'choke on shit and die' list). I don't mean happy in general. I mean bone-deep, beyond content, looking at the world and feeling like they can do anything...with someone by their side to help when the tumbles and scrapped knees appear. What can I say? Mush McMushy on the inside. But that's not to say everyone needs someone. Just that it's nice to have the chance to share and not bottle stuff up because no one else is around to hear it. After all, friends do have lives that don't revolve around you.

But there's the cynic part. Where I don't think personally I'll find it. I know I've probably discussed this before, but hell if I'll look through the posts to find it. But the thing is that I still cry when I see certain movies, like that Leprechaun one. I also cry at the episode where Will on Fresh Prince meets his father, who ends up tossing him aside for other reasons. I've subtitled the episode "To Hell With Him" after that ending scene. I'm a complete and utter sap. Seriously. Though, I laughed my ass off at Beaches, Terms of Endearment and Titantic (Dear Rose & Jack, you're both dumbasses).

So I get this great big gooey crying fest going on every time I happen to run across certain movies and scenes. I've stayed up the past two nights to see the Leprechaun movie. Which is odd, because I really need to be asleep before 6am, but I can't seem to stop myself. Sometimes you just need that crying fest. And the chance to just enjoy the sappy. And I could quote the scenes to you. It's one of the reasons I can't hate Sci Fi entirely. They give me good mini series to watch (seriously, did anyone else watch Tin Man?).

It's no wonder that I enjoy fandoms, because I can read and enjoy the stories (while ocassionaly scoff at the really bad fic). Kinda like planting myself. Hey, at least I don't write Sue inserts anymore. I consider this progress. But the really good writers can make you feel that you're in the scenes, watching them unfold. The same thing with movies. A really good mushy scene is more than really bad dialogue. It's the emotions. Which is probably why I cheer on Frank Sinatra's character in Young At Heart, even though he's an ass.

Hey I'm not totally shallow girl here. I mean, hot boys (and a few girls) are nice. Really nice. But it's not everything. It doesn't make me connect with the characters, and want them to have a happily ever after. Does make bad movies more enjoyable, I have to admit. If only Jessica Alba didn't look like a bad peroxide job half the time, I might finally put her in that category. Well, her acting isn't what's keeping me interested. Ahem, sorry. Tangent rant.

And now that I'm done babbling, I'll be going to bed. Vacation and Christmas posts coming up in the next couple days. We're finally catching up with everything after Wrinkles. All I'll have left is one load of clothes to dry. We had like six.

Tap, tap, tap...squeal!

*shows off shiny badge of honor*


My story is about 50,208 words at the moment, and it's terrible. Seriously, when LKH writes better porn, you have problems. But! I did it! For the first time ever. I won the shiny little badge of honor. Go team me. I worked my butt off. Heeh! And it makes little to no sense, but I at least I know I can do it now. And that's all I needed to know, I think. That it was possible.

And now I go to sleep because I have to get up in the morning to start our dinner in the crockpot at 10am. We're having pork tenderlion cooked in margarine and Riesling wine, with spices of course. And it has to cook for like eight hours, four on high and four on low.

Oh, and apparently some 46-year-old man in my class has decided that my niceness bout helping him pass a few of his classes means he wants me. Just, no. Dude, he's my dad's age. Just, no. *shudders* And he's kinda missing a few screws. Okay, more than a few. He's been calling the past two days like five times. Yeah, exactly, kids. What the hell? I don't need stalker, I really don't.

Happy Time!

Time for a happy post!

Augs, I should be telling a Hell House story around Halloween. Not on Halloween since I'll be spending about six hours at my school, but around then. Probably the 30th, if I remember.

Hey, Marie! I meant to say, nice to meetcha earlier.

I joined NaNoWriMo again this year. Oh, yes, because I think I can write 50k words in 30 days. Clearly, I need to have my head examined. But I'm going to try my best. I have the story going in my head, and the leading lady is starting to shape up. I have until Nov. 1st to plan. Her name? Cooper. Her sisters? Harrison and Finley. Their dad sucks, but I find it hilarious that they were given men names, and have boy nick names. Coop, Harri, and Finn. Ah well, it is my twisted mind. But don't expect me to talk much about it. I'm keeping pretty quiet until I get it done. We'll see. So far, it's a paranormal romance. I'm thinking more like MaryJanice Davidson or Gerry Bartlett. Oh, and there's a hellhound descendant. But you know me, I ain't normal.

In December, my godmom and I are going to go to St. Augustine for vacation. Apparently, we're moving from Atlanta to down there, instead of up here. Um, yeah. But I don't mind, really. I think we both need a change. We'll be gone a week or so. I'll let ya know when time comes closer. We won't be moving until late May. Time for me to finish up the school year, and get some things straightened out first.

Okay, that's enough of an update. I need to go character build Cooper more. *grins* Hey, I might as well use the next couple days for not worrying over the Regents test on Halloween. It's a reading/writing comprehension thing.

Flip That Switch

So, I know I complain a lot on here. And it does bother me somewhat that y'all might think I'm not a sunny side up person. I'm actually pretty upbeat. I just use this blog as a way to let myself be able to feel unhappy and not have to deal with the emotional repercussions my family makes me feel ashamed of. It's a nice release.

I named this blog after Noelle, aka Ninja Kitty, because she is the light of my life. Seriously, when the rest of the world can go suck it, she gives me the chance to enjoy the sunbeams. She curls up with me while I sleep. Takes my pillows before I go to sleep. Generally is never far enough away that she can't tell every step I take. She doesn't like being held, but will tolerate it for about 30 seconds before starting to squall. But it's a nice warm, cozy feeling.

And, here's the thing that really, really gets me: she needs me. I have a maternal streak a couple oceans wide. It's a natural thing, and most of my friends end up at some point saying, "I don't need a second mother." And like a mother, I totally ignore them. Hey, I'm not changing my personality. Take it or leave it. I take care of my own. It's a natural thing that I don't try to force on people, but it's a given with me.

She doesn't care that I can't parse a sentence, that inequality graphs and notations are the bane of my existence, that I have some serious road rage, or that I'm not always the brightest bulb in the lot. She just loves me. That's an amazing feeling, and one I'm not really acquainted with. Usually people only like me for as long as they can use me up. I know, and I still let them. That's all right, though. Not that they do it, but if I'm aware, then it's on me. But having that kind of love at my fingertips has actually kept me from going off on a lot of people.

As for the upbeat thing. Man, sometimes I can make Pollyanna look like a downer. It's that whole "hey, I've lived through hell so the rest of life must be a cakewalk." I never said I was bright, did I? But it makes it easier for me to handle the bad spots. I find the oddest situations funny. Like I can start laughing over something totally stupid and I'll keep laughing until I can't breathe. Like when I tickle my godmom's feet and she wiggles around like a 4-year-old, or I'm on the phone with one of my best friends and we'll start discussing how damn stupid some fans are, like making My Little Pony characters of characters (note: I have, in fact, seen Stargate ones, along with hearing about Dr. Who) and how the sanity train musta never left those stations. Or I'll get tickled over the dumbest knock-knock joke, especially when my baby brother was younger and would tell them.

I'm not totally upbeat, as you've noticed, but I do try and keep some perspective. Hence the fairly twisted attitude. I might wanna choke a bitch, but I'll do it with a small on my face.

Kiss My Grits, Mel!

I am so damn tired of being an adult, as in a fucking partner for my godmom. Dude, I've been an adult since I was born, having to deal with my parents foolishness, and that counts her too. She alternates between treating me like I'm her fucking husband to a three-year-old. I'm tired of dealing with her 30-year-old thoughts on Atlanta. Hi, it's changed. Areas have changed. I'm tired of dealing with her crap about "I don't know if I can handle a house" and when I say "fine, we'll just cancel that whole part of the search!" She goes "No, we need to look." Look, woman. You're 73-years-old. Grow a goddamn backbone! I shouldn't have to be the one to pick out everything! I'm not your husband! I'm your kid!

She won't even pick out the restaurant to eat at. She tells me to. Dude, seriously, grow a fucking pair. I'm 25, and I've been surrounded by her negativity all my life. And I love her, and I babied her so I created part of this mess, but come the fuck on! I'm so over this. She acts like I don't know a thing about house hunting. Oh, sure. I only look shit up daily, looking at prices and what we can afford. 220,000-250000 is not what it was five years ago, lady. The prices have gone up. Inflation happened. Please, I don't pull this shit out of my ass. I pay attention. I'm so over it!

I want my own place. I want my own space. I don't need someone up my ass 24/7. She just walks into my room, and sits down. Because she's bored. And she'll hound me to death. Seriously, I get the same nagging comment about six-seven times a day. Ugh, lady. I just. I'm so over this. I know I'm not in a position to be on my own. Hell, I don't even have a car since I sold it the other day (junkmonster's gone, thank god). But god knows I could use a way out. I'm seriously about to crack. It's compounding. Do you know how TIRED I am of listening to her human equivalent of "nom, nom, nom" EVERY. SINGLE. BITE. she takes? And a huge breath. And her fucking neurosis about her weight. Dude, you're 73. You're not gonna be a size 4 anymore. Get. The. Fuck. Over. It. I swear she has an eating disorder. She'll eat like a piece of cheese toast for bread, a candy bar for lunch, and half of whatever sets out when she makes for dinner. And she always goes "I'm so full." And don't get me started on her passive aggressive shit. I can't say one thing without it being held against me for fucking decades. Seriously, she brings up shit I did when I was like 11.

I'm 25. How about giving me a little credit? I've survived a pretty fucked up childhood, came out fairly mentally in tact, working on changing that even better. I'm just...so over this. Honestly, all I want is to be given a little downtime, for me. I shouldn't have to worry about her shit and mine, because she acts like I'm her partner. Dude, I get it. Finances are tight. But if I say something? I'm treated like shit, even if she wants my opinion and asks for it.

I'm going to lose my mind in the next couple months. I can feel it starting. I've gotten like this more than once. Hell, even in the past seven years, at least twice. I just. God, is it such a big deal to let me be a normal 25 year old every once in while? Really, is it that hard?

I'm about five minutes from a great big, giant crying jag. Because the stress is unreal.

Thanks to bobbleheads and morons

Nora Roberts bobbleheads! Seriously, this is so awesome. I wanna be cool enough that I get to be a bobblehead. I remember when everyone had an Nsync one.

I'd say, "Oh, I could get one of those." But really? Not so much. Spending 200 for two nights stay at Dragon*Con this year does not money make. Oh, well. Less driving time for me. Woohoo. And I got a king sized bed. Go me! Lots of room for myself. *grins* And WiFi, so I can take my mom's computer. Hopefully to do schoolwork, since I'm working my ass off on getting there by fall.

Reminds me, when I get the doll, I need to make a Vala doll.

Also, vigilante groups never do well, people. Seriously, if you're in one? Buy a clue. You just come across as stupider than dog shit, and half as alluring. All you do is mess up the investigations of real people. Yeah, WFI, I'm looking at your dumb asses. Really, really dumb asses. Like, I know amoebas with high brain function. Way to tip off the real pedophiles. Aren't y'all just so cute and smart? Like a beheaded ant.

Little Girl Blue

Okay, I have my LJ and I love it, but sometimes I just need to let a little bit more out. Things I don't want the masses to know, maybe. Or heck, it could be a fear of something. Who the hell knows how my mind works. I surely don't.

I hadn't planned on writing anything over here, since really, I don't have a lot of to share, but I think I kinda do. More like I just wish I had something of my own. My own house, my own life, my own job, my own critters (okay, besides Ninja Kitty - aka Noelle, Jack the hamster, and CC the gerbil). I just need my own place to exist. Sometimes I feel like a fraud, and a freeloader. I know I should be doing better, but I'm so lost as to what. I don't want to be anything major, like a therapist or an artist. I'd be happy being a librarian (secret wish, actually), or a writer. I would love to make a living writing, but I don't have the follow thorough. I have all these amazing ideas and stories, but I can't quite get them on paper. So that's kinda a pointless goal. I love books, though. I get lost in them in ways I can't explain. And that's okay. I love that about them. I have to go through my book shelf a couple times a year to free up space. I have mostly romance and sci-fi/fantasy because that's what I enjoy. But I know that I can't afford, or should be spending time reading. I should be out looking for a job, but my skill set is pretty limited to the only thing I can't do. Due to my medicine, I have very real limitations. I can't be out in the heat for long, or get oversweaty, or stand on my feet for hours at a time. The thing is, that I'm pulled towards blue collar, on your feet eight hours a day type jobs.

I...have no idea where I'm going with this. I guess, I've just felt claustrophobic this week. I was snapping at my godmom earlier, and that's nottoo unusual, except I didn't know why. Maybe because in my mind, I know at 25, I should be hella more along on my path. I have these goals and I keep missing the deadlines, and I'm really feeling like a failure. I don't like that feeling, because I don't think I am. But I sure can't help it. I want to be further along. I did fill out my FAFSA form, so hopefully I can get help and go back to school. For what, I have no idea, but I need to go back and get in the routine. I feel like I should redeem all the time I've wasted. I've been out of high school for 7 years, and I'm in the same place I was right after. That's...deplorable. I've had resources, time, opportunity, and I've wasted it. Can't keep doing that. I know better than that.

I guess I should end now, because I'm babbling without a cohesive thought. Hell, I should probably delete it but I think I need to track my progress, or regression. Whichever it may be.

Day of Nothing

So, I'm not really sure what to write about at the moment. A lot's flying through my mind, but you know, that doesn't mean it's substancey. Though, it's getting close to my birthday, and being a quarter of a century then, I've started examining my life. Or rather how little I've accomplished in it, by society standards anyway. I'm nowhere near where I want to be. (I have a sinking feeling that I'll be 40 before I get anywhere near my PhD in Psychology.) And mentally speaking? Well, I'm in a better place than I was five years ago, but I'd like to be a little more together. Drifting is for the freaking birds. After Labor Day, I'll be doing some serious job searching. I need a) an income but mostly b) a schedule and purpose. I flounder without b and that's just no damn fun.

Also, I need more friends, like the kind I actually want to be around and can call and them show up. I understand my former on/off best friend is a newlywed, but she's the one that wanted us to be in contact after two years of not, so why does it land on me to do everything? I really need to get out and socialize. Maybe working at the zoo, even just a quick volunteer a couple hours a month, will help with that. Plus? The ZOO. The freaking zoo. Animals. Lions, Tigers, and Gorillas (though, they freak me the hell out) oh my!

It doesn't help that I'm feeling disconnected with my city. Now for most people, probably not a problem. But for me? Big freaking problem. I'm Southern, damn proud of it too, but it doesn't feel like home anymore. Like I'm waiting until I'm where I need to be. Bah, see! This is why I hate birthdays. They make you dredge up crap you wish you could keep buried deep.

Phooey, this is depressing. Well, okay. Now I'm going to go to bed since I've a) made a fool of myself at DH's blog and b) babbled on about stuff I don't even put up in my actual jouranl. Bah. Bed time for sure.

Why I Named My Blog

I'm so, so bad about updating this account. Usually I just put everything my LJ, but then this is supposed to be separate, too. I need to remember that there’s more I can talk about.

Like my kitty gone nuts. Seriously, I love the crack addict to death, but when it’s 4 AM and she talks to the walls, not so much. And she does talk to the walls. Sits and faces it in order to chat up a storm at whatever spirit is hovering around, which I do ask to leave but they never listen to me since you know...they're in the middle of a conversation and all. But then she wakes me up with a face cleaning in the morning and all is right. I really adore her. No other pet could make me this happy. Yesterday, mama and I were so scared because we couldn’t find her. Looked under the beds, in the clothes, under the other furniture…so scared, and where was she? Behind the chaise, just sound asleep and unwilling to wake up. Sounds about like Noelle, but the thing I love the most about her is that sticks by me like glue, like she’s afraid I’m going to abandon her. I would never do that because she’s mine (and I don't give up on what I claim for me) now. However I got her, I wouldn’t trade the little shit for an entire kingdom. No matter my moods, she makes me happy and when my depression sets in, that’s a plus, too. Also, "Ninja Kitty" is a nod to her stealthy modes of attacking from her chair. Just be walking by and "Bam!" you're caught.

I really don’t have a lot to write, to be honest. My life is pretty boring, when it’s not about my fandoms or life that I don’t always feel comfortable writing about. Changed my email though. Now it’s jessedup@aol.com since it’s my new account that it’s easier to access at times.

Back to your regularly less-boring-schedule. Oh, and the Pepto pink will be gone...eventually. *grumbles* Give me LJ's layouts any day of the week, and they're a major pain in the ass is it is.

Ah, and even though I said I was gonna keep myself separate (and yeah, plus, no one visits this place anyway), here's a really cool movie, A Dog's Breakfast, that I'd want to see if I wasn't already in fandom where the actors usually play. It still looks cool and quirky, and honestly, what else could you ask for in a film?

Scooby Doo, where are you?...Over here!

Wow, I haven't really posted here because of LJ (what? that nifty client they have is so much easier), but yeah, I've also been...contemplating. I know! Me thinking is a scary, scary thought. Believe me, I'm as scared as the rest of the world. Basically, I've decided my mom (yes, yes the biological one) is so jealous of me she can't see straight. Well, that's not a totally new concept since I figured that out a really really long time ago. Can't say I wasn't a bright kid. Anyway, it's more of a perspective of an adult female as opposed to a kid. And wow, it's just as kick in the gut as it was at sixteen. It's horrible to realize your mama has no desire to see her child succeed.

Ah, I bet you're a bit confused if you're reading this. Okay, so I had another blackout and had an accident (fuck, and I need to call to find out how much the citation is going to be). I being the bright girl didn't tell the cops about the black out. Instead, I made an appointment with the doctor (well a new doc, and durn, can't the people make a cheaper office visit...126-331 for the office visit ALONE). Okay, so that's a plus. But we as a family decided it would be wiser that I not drive by myself until things get straightened out. Sometimes my family is quite bright, I must admit. That meant however that I couldn't get myself to work. So, my mom and stepdad were going to have to drive me. Now, here's the kicker. I was forced to quit because driving me to work wasn't "worth my time" (her words, not mine!) to let me keep my job for a bit until I could get a reference (I had been working there for nine months, for pity's sake!). Isn't that nice of a mom? I think it does scare her that I was succeeding, though. She never wants me to raise above my mistakes. If I stay in them, then I'm down with her. Makes me feel all gooey inside. Really. Can't you tell? So I have no income and I'm attempting to get on Medicaid. Hey, if anyone needs it, a diabetic without insurance a job sure as shooting does!

And then, oh man, the 4/20 episode of Dr Phil was so much like my life. Seriously. I have stepmother that could make Cruella's toes curl. She's hit me (twice), thrown me out of the house (or forced me give my dad ultimatium, you know who won that bit... three times), called my mom an alcoholic in my therapy sessions (but mama clocked the bitch instead at a bar), and turned my dad against me. Literally, if I hadn't landed in the hospital, I wouldn't have a relationship with my father now. I mean, this woman is toxic personified. She smirks all the time, like she's some villian, talks down to me, has my dad convinced that his non-smoking, non-felon, virginal, barely-drinking daughter is worthless. She's just mad because I can see through her. It's not very hard, she's as transparent as glass. Okay, here's a comparision. If anyone saw Shannon's stepmom on Lost, that would so be Johnnie in a rich setting. Or you know, The Ant, in the Undead series, with less likability. And this woman drives a bus. Those poor kids. There's nothing worse than a woman coming in and...just taking control of a family. It's a *blended* family, not a new one. You have to compromise, and so many people don't. My stepdad and I might buttheads, a lot...but we get along pretty well. Because we both realize that we're people and opinions might differ but no one has the right to say the expressed comments are stupid, like my stepmom does. Major differences, there.

And it's always great fun to get a call that says if you don't pay back such and such amount, you'll be considered a felon. Niiice. And even better when it's TWO days after you're forced to quit your job. Wonderful timing there. Luckily my godmom offered to pay the 1800 debt and I'll pay her back, when you know, I get a job. But I really didn't need to hear that right after. Oy, worried me to death. *sigh*

So, the mama situation kinda made me starting thinking about what I want out of life. I want my psychology degree (I'm working! I'll get there when I'm 40, I'm sure) and I want to be happy. I want a book published, just one. So I can say, "Hey! Look! I accomplished a goal! Go me!" That's what I want. And yeah, but that's enough about me. Well, not really since this whole place is about me. Anyway...moving on.

So, I read Dead and Loving It by MJD, and wow. Thank you so much for making me laugh. Which of course I emailed you about...again (I'm sorry, I really don't stalk people, honestly!). I just needed that over the week or so I've had. I also read the first Sookie Stackhouse book (read a short story one of those anthologies, I think...can't remember) and after about midway through, I enjoyed it. I'm usually not the vampire kind, but you never know. Lets see...what else? Books are my escape and trying out new (or old favorites) really are treats. Where else can you discover new worlds, of indentifying with new characters, of wanting to know these people? Lovely places, books.

And now I leave this post alone and go write some more of a short story that's been churning in my brain. Nothing like a Southern princess type eating a Waffle House with man trying to impress. *grins* So much fun, that.

Bzzz, wrong answer.

I swear I get so annoyed with my job sometimes. I had to rearrange my schedule on my day off(shopping is important, dammit!) to go help because they don't understand 70+ dogs and 1 person means they're gonna need help. First shift details involves walking dogs (which is when we take the dogs out to potty in the outside runs and while they're out we clean the cages), taking out the old laundry and putting new in (which means we have to wash all that laundry too), giving out water in new bowls (but, shhhh, that doesn't happen when we're packed, we just give them water in their old bowls), sweeping/mopping, depooping (cleaning the shit from the outside runs), washing the dogs that are getting baths (nail trim and ear cleaning included in this), fixing evening food and next morning's, recess (playing with dogs for 15 minutes), extra walks (where they stay outside in the runs for 15 extra minutes), snacks, and ice cream (Frosty Paws). The Recess and Walks are skipped when we're slammed. We simply don't have time. Yeah, all that for ONE PERSON in an 8 hour shift. Right.

The stupid keeps on breeding. Make them stop. Please. I say we spay/neuter the really stupid. What does anyone else say? Hmm, this is a lot more negative than I wanted to say, but I'm just frustrated. *sigh* Oooh, Fastlane is on. Okay, that's a better day all around.

Howdy, Folks. Welcome to the Asylum!

Welcome to my world, children. Usually I blog at Livejournal, but there are times I want private thoughts (plus, you know, to have access to other people's blogs) so tada, this exists. I wouldn't expect much really, except the mad ramblings of a 24-year-old (nearly 25, thank you very much, go cheaper car insurance!) neurotic soon to be former kennel assistant (yeah, that's right. I clean up dog crap for a living....but I get to play with the puppies, so YAY! Oh, wait. I'm leaving that job, so maybe "Boo!" I don't know. Don't ask the idiot here.).

Be warned, my brain is a SCARY place on the best of days. No, really. I mean, I can ramble like this for hours and hours. You can imagine the hell it is to live me. My poor, poor mom. Don't you just want to send her like, some aspirin? Yeah, I know. I do too, and I'm the person in question.

You know, I really hate pink, but it was the prettiest color they had. Ah well. The Pepto theme is about right. Oooh, did you know that a killer whale is actually a dolphin? Hey, you keep that in your brain for like ten years and not randomly pull it out of nowhere. I had to say it to someone you know, and y'all are the lucky few. Whoever stumbles here anyway. Poor people. I should be all hostessy (mmm, Hostess) and offer some cookies, but how I do know you won't throw 'em away or something. I mean, honestly!

Right, time to go. Got to get my feminine justice dress tomorrow, and probably do some of that pesky homework, since I'll be working this weekend (except for Saturday, the day to outshine the bride, aka my former best friend. What? I'm completely petty. Hello, where have you been?) mostly. Also? I want a puppy. Just a random request. A Rottie named Boudicca.

Oh, and I won't be fandom speaking on here. For that, you'll have to email to get my LJ info. This is going to be all about "Jessie, Jessie, Jessie!" What? I can rip off The Brady Bunch all I want.