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Dec. 31st, 2012

So, It's Been Awhile

A few years I believe, has passed since my last honest to goodness entry on here - I really don't remember. It's been a wild ride since then though. After falling deep down into the Dark Place I managed to hang in there and went on to marry a Canadian. Once you go Canadian you don't go back. My husband is hands down the best thing that ever happened to me. We just had a little girl, Sofia; she is the light of my world.

I start school at St. Clair College in little over a week: I'm taking Computer Systems Technician - Networking. Exciting times! I never in a million years thought I'd get to go to college, that doesn't happen to girls like me. It's covered by the Second Career program. I love Canada.

Nov. 1st, 2008

Shining Beacon of Hope


Seriously, they have everything: movies, games, software, even full music albums. For free. All in one place. Huzzah Canada!

May. 2nd, 2008

We Need To Talk

Ok, so I need to talk. Ideally This would be a two-sided conversation with feedback that goes beyond being ragged on about how everything I say and do is very very wrong, and about how much I so thoroughly suck, but that's clearly not happening, so goddamnit, I'm gonna talk for once. Go ahead, give me all the crap about it you want, but so help me, this once I'm saying my piece and getting it out of my system.

- I'm sick of being treated like shit beneath your shoes. Maybe I am over-picky or demanding or whatever, but the way I see it, it's polite and considerate to keep those you share living space with informed of your wherabouts and estimated times for coming and going. Especially when it comes to knowing when the ideal time to have the cleaning and what not finished. racing against an invisible mystery clock suck more than you know. Picking up your own trash and dishes and shit is also considered polite and considerate. I have two children, unless your name is Sasha or Sonya and you live here, I am NOT your mother, even so, past the age of about 10, you should be picking up after yourself reliably anyway. Leaving a used pizza box atop another person's laptop is cold, dude.

- I'm a fucking PERSON, communicate with me. I'm not furniture, or an inanimate object. I rarely leave the house, but none the less, I am a real, live, living, breathing person. Ignoring me and generally trating me like a machine or robot or the like is definitely NOT cool. I am not a toy you can stuff on the shelf or leave lying around until you want what you want. That hurts, actually. It doesn't have to be constant, just fair and considerate. You want 'you time'? Fine, cool, I'm all for it. It'd rock if I could be included once in awhile instead of flung aside like last nights pizza box. I don't exist solely to cater to a whim of yours when you feel like it and that's it. Hate to break it to ya, but it just doesn't work that way. Work with me, compromise with me, look at me. It would save a great deal of heartache and frustration in the long run. Seriously.

- Contrary to popular belief, I am not stupid. I'll admit, I'm not the brightest bulb in the box, but I'm not the dimmest either. I've made some mistakes, including some that were overwhelmingly stupid, and I know that... everyone makes a stupid mistake at some point, there's just no getting round it. The key to it is learning from said mistakes, which I've done. You may now stop pummeling with it, I've learned my lessons.

- I FEEL THINGS. Physical, emotional, psychological... if it's a way to hurt or be happy or sad or tired or anything else that can be labeled a 'feeling' I experience it. I'm not going to apologize for it, either. I feel things. I feel happy. I feel sad. More often than not lately, I feel tired and crappy. I HURT. My tooth hurts before and after a root canal. My heart aches from loss of friends, family, places, things I've known. I feel it all. Deal with it. It comes with being a person, a chick, it comes with it all. I can't stress it enough, I feel things, and I'm NOT going to apologize for it. For whatever reason those around me seem to have no desire in sharing in my rare moment of joy, my moments of pain and sadness are an inconvenience to you? Too bad, I don't like it either. Even the experts say not to hold it all in, it's damaging. I'm damaged enough as it is, inside and out. Holding in what I feel and further inflicting more damage to myself just because it's not convenient for you to be in the vicinity of such things? Too damn bad. I feel it damnit. Shit hurts, it's not exactly 'convenient' for me either, but I don't have a choice, because I feel things. You don't like it? Find a real life Servo.

- I am ME. I come as a package. This package changes and evolves over time, but it's nonetheless a package deal. I have my issues, quirks, hangups, virtues, and more. It all comes together, not as a buffet, take what you want and leave the rest kind of thing. Package deal. I have my social anxiety thing that prevents me from doing things involving humans I don't know. But the thing is, when I'm not collapsing under the strains of stress I've been under as of late, just get the ball rolling and I'm usually fine. The intense anxiety of getting started on something is more often than not the worst of it. It's part of the package. I've never understood where anyone can try and take only a part of a person. Take the wit, outer packaging, and a few interests and leave the rest. It doesn't work that way. I accept people based on the whole package. Cope with the quirks and downfalls, cheer on the good stuff, enjoy what's there. Even the less shiny stuff means something on some level. If you're not after the whole package, then what the hell are you doing? You can't change people into what you want them to be, and if you do, then what did you want with them in the first place? A chew toy? Bad dog. A person IS a package, nobody's perfect, that's just human nature.

- Fulfill the role you claim to be... friend, significant other, family member, whatever... it's more than a title, otherwise what the hell are you doing? Relationships of all categories are hard, and each one takes two people. You cry, I'll cry; you laugh, I'll laugh, need a hand to hold, I'm there. But where are you? That seems to be a good question. What's wrong with us all today only the good is acceptable? That goes back to the package deal point. We can't all be happy and perfect all the time, and those times when everything sucks you should be able to turn to the people who claim (as the 'friend', 'significant other', 'family' titles imply) for support and guidance. If you can't turn to them, who is there? Live together, die alone, right? (Thank you "Lost"). I'll scratch your back if you scratch mine. It seems fair, and we'd all win that way.

- I am a mom and a homemaker. While admittedly not the best, I try my damndest. Not just with those two roles, either. I always try so hard. I'd seriously love to know why it never seems to be good enough. Cut a person some slack, willya? There are never enough hours in the day or the energy to be found to get it all done. Aren't we supposed to take turns and share? Patience is a virtue. Or better yet, lend a hand, we could have fun and get it done faster, y'know. I try so freaking hard to make everyone happy, yet more often than not it seems the harder I try the less happy everyone gets... I've tried even not trying, and that miraculously only made things worse. By all means, either be jazzed by my exhaustive efforts or keep it to yourself. I AM A FUCKING HUMAN BEING. My energy and strength have limits, every waking moment has been spent trying to make someone somewhere happy. Thank you, I've failed miserably, I get it, you may quit kicking me over it now, my ribs hurt. I'm not a mind reader either. So many efforts have been done blind, if that's the problem, drop a hint, or deal with it. Pick one. I'm tired. Tired and out of ideas.

All this has been building for a good many years at this point. Not from one specific person at a given time, but many, over a great deal of time. Holding it all in is making me crazy. Go ahead, get mad, bitch me out. I expect no one to understand any of it, although it would be the pick-me-up quirk of a lifetime if someone out there did. Damnit though, it's been in there, snowballing, getting bigger and hurting more for a very long time. I offer no apologies. I need a turn to talk and here it is.

Feb. 10th, 2008

You Can Run But You Can't Hide

The good news is I finally got that Helio Ocean I've been lusting after for ages now. It's the one with the nifty lil keyboard in it for texting and whatnot, and it ROCKS, I must say. Then I finally bit the bullet and gave the ex the new number. That was the right thing to do, I know... he should have access to call the girls, and to withhold that would have been wrong and unfair. But there was a strange, unexpected and awkward twist: apparently he's found himself a new toy to play with other than me. I'd texted him to tell him about the new number only to get mistaken for someone else. While, yes, that is great news; logically he should leave me alone now, quit with the guilt trips and harassment over not staying the naive 18 year old forever and such. But then there's the survivalist aspect of me that's screaming that it's not that easy, that the fight's only about to start for real, and it's going to get ugly... that part of me is tensed to the max over it, knowing full well that something really really bad is about to happen... that's the part of me that some have called 'paranoid' in spite of the part where it's the survivalist that's kept me alive all these years, always watching, always alert. The optimist, on the other hand, is jazzed out of her mind reeling off reminders that the harassment and abuse will stop for good, that the noose-tied short leash has finally been removed. Overall, I hold no doubt that both of these me's are right... there have been very few calms in my life, like the one in the past few days where the main line into my life was uncluttered by the threat of disaster coming through it; every one of them was also followed by a rough and horrific storm that shattered my world. Part of me wants to be cautious and enjoy the peace while it lasts, knowing full well it won't last forever. The other part of me is going crazy trying to come up with a way to prepare, be ready for whatever it is that may be coming, knowing full well it's going to be bad. I've seen enough over the past 5 years to know that all is NOT safe. There IS no escape. I won't simply be left alone because there's a distraction, a new victim. I'm also finding myself torn because there may be another person about to endure what I just got myself out of, and I worry for this person. I hold no doubt that that sounds crazy, to worry about my successor. I've seen a friend go through that same spiral I did, the one where someone drowns in abuse, I can see that pattern so clearly now that I'm out of it, and it freaks the hell out of me that it's so easy to fall for, it starts out so subtle and ends up so hellish. I may not have been hit, (which seems to be the form of abuse that automatically springs to mind for most) but this kind is much more subtle, but can leave more lasting damage... it infects the mind, alters perspective, and you don't even realize it's happeneing unil it seems impossible to get away from it. Being kept on that short leash seems at first like you're being protected, but before you know it, you're cut off from everyone and everything you thought you knew, it's isolation, and then there's noone to turn to if the opportunity arises to. I've lost every friend I had over it, and so it seems there's nothing more I can do about it. Oddly enough I'd landed there trying to live, only to end up closer to death than I'd ever been before. After all that, at this point, I want to believe the optimist, that things are clearing... but in truth I believe the survivalist, after seeing what I have these past 5 years. Something's brewing, I can feel it... if he HAS in fact moved on, I have that sinking suspicion that it may very well be a ploy to get the girls. Patch together a 'family' picture to make there look like the better place for them to be. I also know him to be a comulsive liar, so it may not be true, it could be just another sneaky attempt at something. I have no way to know for sure what the 'plan' is, although I wish I did. It's not over, not by a long shot. That man has pulled enough stunts for me to know that, and because of it, I continue to live in fear. The sickening part is I'd landed with him trying to get away from living in fear in the first place... now he's the greatest cause of it I've known yet. I wish to hell I had answers, or at the very least, hints... something to go on, anything...

Mar. 19th, 2007

The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly

t's that time again, kiddies... that's right, the latest edition of the good, the bad, and the ugly!

The Good:
I finally got my own computer. Yes, MINE. This one I'm typing on as we speak (or you read, which ever you prefer) is mine, mine, mine, all MINE!!! It's pretty freakin' awesome too, with the AMD Athlon 64 X2 4200, 250 gig hard drive, LightScribe DVD burner, Windows Vista home Premium, and 17" LCD Flat Panel Monitor. World of Warcraft is absolutely beautiful on it, and Vista is proving so far to be a rather snazzy OS. I'm totally lovin' it... it's for my birthday, even though that's actually next month. CP4U built it for me.

The Bad:
My darling daughters have been little hellions lately, driving mommy completely crazy. Seriously. They refuse to listen to me at all, and are getting louder and more unruly by the day. My sanity is hanging by a single, tiny thread.

The Ugly:
He is at it again. Most of you in Readerland an probably guess who that is. Once again, I find myself in that tiny little prison-cell like world where anything and everything is entirely my fault, and everything imaginable that COULD be blamed on anything at all, goes straight back to me. Somebody, please, for the love of all that is good in this world, knock me out or SOMETHING. I'm so close to losing what is left of my mind, it is purely unreal!! Today a good chunk of it was listening to him whine on and on and on (AND ON) about how I don't want to play with him on World of Warcraft. Here's a newsflash: people that make me feel like shit on a regular basis, and who harass and badger me incessantly, throwing around wild accusations like confetti, I don't generally want to play with. He loves to accuse me of taking away from him and the girls whenever. I have busted my ass for over 4 years already, trying so damn hard to make everyone happy, andlet me tell you, it has been a very thankless job. I've spent countless hours cooking meals that only wound up half-eaten because they would all munch the entire time I was cooking. I have picked up countles candy wrappers and other small things that were choking hazards, among other dangers. I have warned about an astounding number of typical household dangers, only to have them fall on deaf ears, then wound up glared at as though I had done something unthinkable, as though I'd somehow engineered the world so that that particular danger was in fact a danger. I have cleaned, and done laundry, been the sole setter and enforcer of rules and safety guidelines, only to be ignore the entire time. I watch my daughters sit in terror, because he won't turn off the Sci-Fi channel when some horrific monster prowls the screen, and I've watched them scream in terror at masks he scared them with in various stores. Through all that, I'm accused of being the neglectful one. I change diapers all day, everyday, yet he complains at changing a few in the afternoons and on weekends. It's been ages since i got to focus on one thing for more than five minutes, yet when he doesn't get solid days to play games (focusing all the while), HE never gets to play. It's nothing but nonstop frustration. I haven't actually slept in weeks, yet he takes naps almost whenever the mood strikes... and I try to let him. Yet I am the inconsiderate one. Maybe I am, who knows. I am sorry I can't be perfect - although goodness knows I try. I have days from all this where my eye twitches nonstop from the stress, and I have days where I can feel the old tendencies and yearnings to disappear forever from the world come back. I have days where hours are spent trying to cease to be from sheer force of will. I'm crazy at this point, and I know it. I have days 9like today) where all I want in the worldis to scream and pummel someone - usually the one causing the hell... but I refrain, because then I would be called things like 'overemotional', and 'psychotic', 'out of control', and other things. People wonder why I suffer from chronic depression and severe social anxiety, and why it is that the general population freaks me out to no end. I can't imagine (Yes, that was sarcasm.) I'm hanging by a thread, anyone got a rope?

Dec. 14th, 2006

Oh Look, Hell Is Here!

Yesterday really was a day from hell. Sasha was sick with this stomach thing; my bank account landed $200 in the hole (thanks Video Professor!); Peter Boyle died (moment of silence, please); and the Astros traded Willy Taveras, Taylor Buchholz (this past seasons baseball crush... boy, oh boy, how I loved to watch that boy pitch...*snickers*), and Jason Hirsh to the Colorado Rockies for Jason Jennings.

It always sucks ass in a big way when your kid (or any kid, for that matter... although your own kid really nails it close to home) is sick. It's sucky, icky, heartwrenching, nervewracking , and maddening. You don't always know what to do to make it better, and with stomach things such as this, there really isn't much you can do besides push the hydration issue. All you really can do is silently beg your kid to get up, run around the room, and give you a nice killer headache, because that would be infinitely better than watching them lay there and spew. She does seem better today, at least. The catch? Today, Sonya's got it. She doesn't seem to have it as severely as Sasha did though. That or Sonya's just got a stronger stomach. Either way, it sucks ass, and I want BOTH of my daughters up and bouncing off the walls again.

Avoid anything by the Video Professor. Sure, it LOOKS like a good teaching tool and a valuable program... but there IS a catch. Once you order one, you've subscribed, and they send you another to look at, with five days to return the damn thing. Sounds simple enough, right? WRONG!! Returning the damn thing is the biggest freakin' pain in the butt, I swear!! The don't guarantee postage, so simply writing 'Return to Sender' on the package may not cut it, leading to major hassle and stress.

The world lost a great actor yesterday with the passing of Peter Boyle. He will be greatly missed. Most would likely recognize him from his role as Frank on "Everybody Loves Raymond". This is a sad day indeed.

Next season is looking grim for the Houston Astros. First they lost Andy Pettitte to the Yankees. (Don't even get me started on the parallels to the Nolan Ryan fiasco, either). Now they have gona and traded our best and brightest pitching prospects in Taylor Buchholz and Jason Hirsh, as well as one of our most impressive center fielders ever. I will admit, I am a bit more attached to Taveras and Buchholz than I am Hirsh. What do you expect, I've been screaming "Woohoo! Go Willy!!!" at my tv and radio for two seasons already, and still have yet to forgive the voters for not picking him as Rookie of the Year (I still say that was so very wrong, and he was robbed!!) Taylor Buchholz hit a rocky patch midseason (as many players in general do, his struggles were still nothing compared to Brad Lidge). Cut the kid some slack, most rookies don't manage to pull off much that is noteworthy, although he did. (A 1 hitter going into the 9th inning comes to mind, not to mention the sheer magic he worked against the Rangers). Jason Hirsh I did not get to see much of, and I feel he was cheated... he has been considered our top prospect the past two seasons. Yes, the Astros are is some pretty desparate need of pitching, as Roy Oswalt certainly can't do it all himself. However, relinquishing such a hefty chunk of the future as well as an asset like Taveras seems a bit steep. Buchholz and Hirsh both have tremendous potential, I sincerely believe both will be baseball greats one day. We may have a veteran for a year, sure. But what about beyond that year? Those kids we just lost will likely be going long after that. Oh joy, grimness.

Dec. 27th, 2005

I Found My New Wind... And I Need A RALLY!!!

The Stepford Wife thing just simply is NOT going to work. Carlos was riding my case yet again the other night, when I stepped outside, needing air and a moment away from the noise and constant harassment, trying to clear my head, hoping for my mind to hurry up and die already - when I realized I have no desire to go down without a fight. I keep listening to him yelling and snapping at Sasha - she's two, she's learning, she's at an age that requires the utmost patience. Granted, I do the same on occasion, but still not nearly to the degree that he does. I at least talk to her, and play with her, and don't simply ignore her because the tv or computer is on, or blow off changing her before nap or bed time. I also had a wonderful Christmas that was a total blast - I'm hooked, and I want more. I went out shopping at the mall with my cousins today - he spent the morning snapping at ME over every tiny thing, and accused me repeatedly of meeting up with Jason. What part of "Girls' Day Out" includes guys?!? I think I missed that somewhere. He did it more than once within a 15-minute period, too... what part of "No" is so difficult? Is it the 'N', or the 'o'? I honestly have no idea, but for the record, he is STILL looking for a job, and with the exceptions of when he's treating me like his own personal verbal punching bag, I have been as supportive as humanly possible to someone that tunes everything out if that damned tv is blaring loud enough to wake the dead. I'm sick and tired of being a freakin' doormat to him, and to people like him. I've had enough, and as for my longstanding rule of NOT saying anything less-than-shiny about him, EVER - ALL BETS ARE OFF!! (Except in front of the kids, of course, I'm NOT sinking to that level like he does) Like my favorite saying was at 18: "There's always that point where enough is enough, I've not only reached that point, I've done a tap dance, a merry lil jig, and an encore - ENOUGH IS ENOUGH." Gimme my damn flag back - THIS IS WAR, BABY!!! All I need from any of you out there in Readerland, is just a little support - let's get a rally going for the single mom to bust out and make it! Who's with me!?!?!

Dec. 23rd, 2005

Back On The Battlefield

Here we go again, apparently. Carlos and I are fighting like crazy, yet again... tonight was over who does more around here, starting over the dishes. For the record, the only job I really even ask him to do around the house on a regular basis is JUST the dishes. I do the laundry, the floors, take care of the kids (although since he hasn't worked in a month, I think it only fair that he does spend extra time with them - makes sense, doesn't it?), take the trash out, clean the litterbox, etc., etc,. etc. Is that REALLY so much to ask? Evidently, it is. I guess I'm should just go back the the Stepford Wife lifestyle where I do everything without thinking about it... just shut off what's left of my mind, my heart, and every other part of me that has much of an independent function. I may as well, I'm out of ideas, seeing as I'm uneducated, unemployable, and have no other options. The past year or so of trying to be an actual person to some degree have been somewhat fun and adventurous, although stressful. At this point though, I just can't do it anymore. Even if I were employable and everything, there's nothing even remotely good to look forward to or hope for. All I can see in that potential future is struggling to survive in a horrible, god-awful apartment that should have been condemned years ago, and STILL having everything taken from me and the kids. I'm not Lorelai Gilmore, I could never pull any of it off without pure catastrophic disaster, especially by myself - I'm simply not that capable. Having never managed to succeed at anything whatsoever, no matter how small, it's no doubt impossible to pull that particular rabbit out of any hat. I'm just so tired of fighting, even more so of fighting alone, against everyone and everything, in a position where even if I managed to win, I'm losing that much more. I can't do it anymore, I've fought so hard, for so long, against so much, for so much, never making any headway - losing headway, actually - I just haven't the strength, heart, willpower, or motivation to go anymore. Once upon a time I had freedom to look forward to, and the chance at a future of my own - both those things are gone now, I see no more point in it. At this point the only spot there is to fight for means nothing but oblivion, and with kids in tow, I wouldn't be the only one affected - that, I cannot stand for. I am alone, I surrender...

Dec. 12th, 2005

Quickie Poll

Ok, this one's mostly just for fun... but I also get to see who reads this stupid thing, or cares enough to take part in something fun. :-P

Which Amy edition should make a comeback?

A) The Hippie/Boderline Goth version - Junior high edition, obsessed with all things 60's and hippie-like, but was also ultra dark and chronically depressed without even trying to hide it. Would have worn loads of black if I'd had the faintest chance of getting any other than my X-Files T-shirt.

B) The 15 year old version - Cute, quirky... and very 50's-esque, right down to the classic flip-hairdo.

C) The 17-18 year old version - Sweet, cute, funny, quirky, neighborhood sweetheart/do-gooder, always up for a laugh. Always ready and willing to chit chat about and/or help with anything. Relatively comfy and ok with self as a person - for the most part at least.

D) The Stepford Wife version - The quietest ever, but always ready and willing to smile and nod while cooking: who's hungry?

E) Create-Your-Own/Fill-In-The-Blank - That's right, create your very own version of, well... me... or pick another that wasn't listed.

That's it, there's your choices... I dare you to pick one... or are you scared? Maybe one of the decent ones will make it back - who knows? Thanks for playing. :-D

Dec. 11th, 2005

Popular People Suck!!!

Yes, you read that right - popular people suck. I'm mostly referring to Carlos... this time - but the rest of you popular people suck, too. I made the stupid mistake of joining a guild in World of Warcraft. He wasn't long behind in joining the same guild. Now he's Mr. Popular (what else is new?), and I'm still... just... there - totally invisible. He's not the only one picking up stuff for the big freebie giveaway... but of course he's the only one getting credit and widespread admiration from the fellow guildies. I swear, the popular people of the world are driving me crazier and crazier on a daily basis. They all seem to be in this one huge clique, ignoring the rest, and noone else is allowed in. Or, if you want to look at it this way, there's two kinds of people in this world: the popular people, and me.

I admitted recently on this very MySpace page that I suffer from severely crippling social anxiety and chronic depression. It has been confirmed that I will never make it beyond this very step (admitting it), seeing as even the people that claim to care won't even help me try to start talking about it. Well, guess what: that means that this is the only place where I get to talk and vent (fun, fun fun... bet you're searching frantically for that little 'back' button right about now, huh?), and I don't even have to give a rat's ass whether or not anyone reads or replies. Granted, I understand it doesn't help any that this stupid time of year always makes me crazy and grouchy and all, what with all it's sucky taintedness. It's just as well, I suppose, since I'll obviously always be a complete hermit, and am about to slip right back into doing the brainless Stepford-wife thing anyway. I get it, my company clearly isn't particularly sought after, and I'm slowly getting back to the point where I can say that it's cool. I've always done better by myself anyway, although I can ever say it's not nice to have someone to talk to, even if it is more sporadic all the time. Yes, I was always that kid that all the other kids picked on, taunted, teased, and tortured relentlessly; I always failed miserably at the whole 'works and plays well with others' concept, too. I guess I will always stand alone.

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