Tuesday, February 28, 2017

Thursday, November 27, 2014

Cos we live in a time When meaning falls in splinters from our lives…

Happy Thanksgiving.

I'm not dead yet.

Neither is Mother Liz, my stepmother's mother…so I guess she is my step-grandmother. And she is not dead, but it's coming.

I am, morally, against the withholding of food and water as a means to hasten death. While I fully support voluntary suicide and euthanasia — including voluntary terminal dehydration (VTD), if that's what blows your skirt up — I strongly believe that a systematic withholding cannot be tolerated because of the potential for a slippery slope-type justification for the denial of fundamental Human rights.

And, coincidentally enough, I believe access to food and water is a fundamental Human right. I would be happy to help out if someone needs to park a bullet in their brain, but I want them to have a nice lunch first. That's how I roll.

So this was my 2014 Thanksgiving, because my family raises the bar on dysfunction every single year: while Mother Liz is VTD'ing it, and went non-responsive a little over a day ago, we did Thanksgiving.

It's demented and sick, sure.

My offers to help out were dismissed, largely because, I think, my relatives are a pack of pussies. Or they enjoy misery, both their own and others'. Who knows? I *do* know that I would never let someone I loved go through that; if she wants out, fucking help her out. Damn.

Why is everyone so damned weird?

Wow. I just hung up with my father, and AGAIN I offered help, and again he got all defensive, saying that his wife is doing a fine job of taking care of her mother. Fuck this shit. I told him that he has my phone number and morphine, and I have the Vistaril and glucophage, so quit being stupid. He said he'd phone if help turning her was needed again. Whatever.

Yeah, my morality says I have to hear it from my stepmother. I can't just go all vigilante, even if it's clear that *someone* needs to. Fuck, this makes me angry. And sad. Angry and sad. I really liked Mother Liz; I kind of loved her, really. She reminded me of Mom a lot.

I'm going to pretend this shit isn't happening and watch movies. I'm home now. And I moved. More about that later.

Hugs and love.

- Posted using an app that I drew on an Etch-a-Sketch modified to run Free BSD.

Thursday, May 22, 2014

Le tiers livre des faicts et dicts héroïques du bon Ancodie.

Ok; things are changing, I think for the better. I hope. Soon, I can possibly afford to have a sense of humour again. And maybe a life.

This is good. And so is Cookie; she is the best pill-taker there ever was. She approaches cathood as if it were a job, and I have never seen an employee so eager to get promoted (to what, Cookie? Head cat???).

Ok; I am going to either watch Columbo or find god-awful movies on You Tube from the '70s and '80s. Or play Infinite Poker on #121. Or I might watch Maude. I missed Logo's Maude Festival because I was in my cups for Mother's Day.

Oblivion, ho!

- Posted using an app that I drew on an Etch-a-Sketch modified to run Free BSD.

Monday, April 14, 2014

I wasn't Cleopatra.

I clearly have been a raging bastard to someone in a former life.

Right now is proof positive that when I need rescuing, no-one is there. Mary is right; I should never worry myself with another's problems ever again.


- Posted using an app that I drew on an Etch-a-Sketch modified to run Free BSD.

Tuesday, March 25, 2014

Swim big fish.

I am trying to move. This sucks, as well as the suck part of trying to sustain an increased level of output just to find out that some petty person can interfere so with their stupidity.

I am not giving up, I just came very close today.

- Posted using an app that I drew on an Etch-a-Sketch modified to run Free BSD.

Tuesday, March 18, 2014

Potentially Useless Post

Here's to hoping that tomorrow works out for me. ::clink glasses::

- Posted using an app that I drew on an Etch-a-Sketch modified to run Free BSD.

Sunday, February 23, 2014

Random thoughts

When my eldest aunt, my mother's sister, died, I suppose that I was not prepared.

Christ, I still haven't dealt with Weebie's death.

I have been operating for so long in what Mary calls 'survival mode' that, basically, I am fresh out of deal and cope.


My aunt's children, and *their* children, are despicable, mostly. I cannot stomach listing off everything that had happened, so there is no purpose in naming them; their names would be reminiscent of Thirteen Ghosts, anyway.

They did NOTHING to help her. NOTHING to try to save her. They had her home cleared out before she was cold in her grave, and I am not joking — my mother's youngest sister kept them from clearing out the house before the funeral, but guess what happened that afternoon/evening? Yes; even her prescription medicine was taken (by a particularly worthless cousin-in-law). Thinking about it makes me rage. Wondering how Mummers could have had, in comparison, such decent children leaves my head spinning. I did not need to find out that one of my cousins is moonlighting as a drunk; I did not need to find out that one particularly wicked wench to whom I have the misfortune of being related tried to turn the entire funeral into an audience. I just …

I don't need this shite in my life. Nothing and no-one can fix this. Ever.

There are days, like today, when I have an unusual peace. Yesterday evening, I went to see Victor at my new massage place (I have had to change a few haunts to ensure that I avoid the demented stalker), and there was something so perfect about the atmosphere that I felt peaceful, and it has lasted through today. I mostly credit listening to Klaus Nomi's Valentine's Day as I drove through the sunset.

I have an application to get off, and I will finish that today, but in the meantime I am writing (here), cleaning a little, laundrymaking, and distracting myself from anything too serious by cataloguing the e/s I desperately need from Ingsoc…err…Inglot.

Fuck that; I am still going to call the brand Ingsoc.

…and wishing I were at the Quite Overcast beach today. When this is over — and it will be soon — I am going to treat myself, not that sheer peace shouldn't be treat enough. I need a break. I have needed one for a long, long time.

And I swear this Holiday Season will be nothing short of completely magical.

- Posted using an app that I drew on an Etch-a-Sketch modified to run Free BSD.