Coolness

I have a new maneki neko cat! It's pink, and I love it.

I am Gozer, The Destructor.

It is official:  I *am* Death.

To make a long story short, This Guy was -- was -- living with a 30+ year-long friend of his. This friend turned up dead last evening, at 42, from what appears right now to have been an epileptic fit. TG keeps saying he aspirated (which is vague, TG is only guessing), but my opinion is he went into Status sometime yesterday mid-afternoon. I am basing my guess off the fact that Friend was not completely compliant in his meds dosing (self-admittedly; i talked with him about it), and had been dieting  since January. He had a huge seizure a few weeks ago, wrote it off as forgetting his meds, and now this. I tried to explain to TG, but couldn't get a word in edgewise, so i figured he needed to talk. Everyone deals with death and loss differently, plus my trying to explain Status seemed to irritate him, plus the autopsy will say what happened, so it is a non-issue, i just mentioned it because TG kept saying he wished he knew what happened, etc...

So I have suspended dumping TG for the moment. And i am regretful that i didn't fuss more at Friend when we last spoke about his seizures. I suggested adding Valium or Ativan for a few months, and he had said he would look into it, which always means nothing will get done.

I have to get back to writing a conference submission, but just wanted to wander over here and be depressing for a moment. This Blogger interface sucks, so i may have a repeated sentence down below that i cannot access at the moment. Sorries.

I got irritated at TG for lecturing me on not posting anything to Facebook; TG has all the hallmarks of a man who is accustomed to dealing with completely incompetent women and has become a little sexist as a result. When TG was lecturing me, he was waiting for the ME to show up (Friend was in full rigor when TG found him), and Friend's whole family didn't know yet, so why would *I* be posting anything??? I've only known Friend for a little over a year; my posting anything would be a total drama queen move, especially at that point in time. But i figured that TG was traumatised, so other than saying 'of course', i did nothing but listen to the rest of the lecture.

Okay...back to writing and stuff. I just needed to vent and be depressing.

I know, I know...

I haven't been a good blogger. I am still in the same state as ever, and am putting in resumes in every ridiculous place I can come up with. I am at my doctor's right now; yes, I am still stressed. I am also still upset with This Guy, and I know...he needs to go. Everyone is telling me this. Sabra started emailing me again, and I am behind in writing as always. I am worried for my brother still, and wishing everything would just settle down; I need peace.

One of the positions I applied for requires immediate relocation; this further scares the crap out of me because I do not know the area, and want to make sure my cats would be safe. I am just a mess of nerves about everything. I have tried to think of the easiest way(s) to relocate...whether getting me and my crap up there and boarding my cats here for a week would be better...I just don't know. I have these spells where I feel as if everything I do will be wrong, and I am just trying to minimise that. And I do not want to leave Butler II, but I cannot take him, I don't think. There is too much to consider, it seems. I feel overwhelmed.

Today I had hoped to be able to talk to This Guy, but then he popped up with more drama; I do not know how to explain this other than to say that to him, I am a paragraph, and he is a book. When he asked how I was (after telling me all about his day), I started by saying, 'well...' and then he interrupted with 'same shit, different day?', and I was just angry beyond belief at that point. Instead of picking up on that, he started talking about an ex of his (whom he calls his 'best friend', leaving me to wonder who the 'psychopathic retard' in his life would be) who has a child that isn't his, but whom he wants to call his son, which is great, except she and her family have apparently made it clear to him that he is unwanted as a father figure. Further, she has finally tracked down the biological father, and is engaged to yet another man.

Now here is where my seeing things as they really are, stripped of all pretense and glamour, really fucks me over; about six-ish years ago (probably closer to seven), TG and this woman parted ways as friends. They had broken up years before, and had finally gotten on each others' nerves enough that they told each other to fuck off and die. Months pass, and one night she turns up on his doorstep...a few months pregnant. She feeds him this story of how she 'must' have been drugged and raped, blah, blah, blah. He is convinced of this because of her description of how she drank a weird-tasting drink, or somesuch. And so then they were back together, but as friends, with him agreeing to play 'daddy'. Okay, fine. 

Only that's not the story as my brain translates it. What *I* hear is that she got herself knocked up by some deadbeat, and after going through a quick mental list of likely candidates to step up and play house, she settles on This Guy because he is a near-perfect combination of drama-loving, white-knighting gullibility who is also too self-absorbed to ever actually sit down and subject some of the shite she is manufacturing to any degree of analysis or scepticism, perfect to step in and swallow this hook, line, and sinker because of the ego boost being Mr White Knight provides. Only she forgot about the part where she cannot really stand him, nor he her. So after a couple years of fighting and psychoness, combined with being reminded repeatedly that he actually *isn't* the 'real' father and so needs to STFU & DIAF, he finally moves away to be with his *actual* son, who lives here (which, IMO, says a lot about how far he'll go for an ego boost -- essentially throwing over his real son because the situation with this othe 'son' better fed into his self-image and drama needs until there was more ego insult than reward, which is when he stepped out). So after a few years of him gone, she pops up with a fiance and miraculously knowing who the bio father is and she proved it with testing just the past month or so when she needed child support from aforementioned baby daddy...who was, the way I originally heard the story, just this Mysterious Dude. Funny, that. It is so strange how money can clear away the effects of Rohypnol (which is what TG, in all his wisdom, has deduced she was dosed with...which probably isn't so, even if she were dosed with something), iddnit?

I know -- I am 'too hard' on people; I hear this all the time. The only thing is, I am more often than not right. In fact, I'd bet money on the fact that I am spot on with this one.

Butsoanyway, so I got really angry that her fuckery (she made some comment that he thought was about him, but wasn't) eclipses anything I might think or feel, and I told him that i didn't care and had to work. Then he sent a text a couple hours later that said something like 'r u angry at me?', and I was just seeing spots; textspeak should be used by anyone over twelve as humour ONLY. Period. At his age, that's just laziness.

=====and then time passes======

Okay, after royally fucking up Valentine's Day by (1) not doing anything and (2) posting some stuff on my wall that was supposed to be funny, but considering he didn't do anything for my birthday or Christmas (not even a card), and then not even posting a traditional 'happy Valentine's Day' on my wall, ended up really pissing off some of my family and friends, because at that point it came off as a very disrespectful remark (basically saying 'it's V-Day; come over and do me'). And after one of my friends told him off (i had to delete the thread), now he wants us to 'talk'.

Grrr...I have to go teach now. More later. 

<3

Just wanted to share.

Running away

I had to get out of the house for an hour, so I am up at this Mom & Pop seafood place that is cheap-but-annoying. I'm meeting Harry and then it's back to writing. When I finish this one project, I'm starting on a personal project while I continue to submit applications and crap. The xmas carols are going in here, and I honestly think I like this place cos it reminds me of a place I used to go sometimes when I was up North. Really similar decor, layout, etc...

Ok...gotta go.

Quickly...

I am okay. I am taking the night off to see a movie with Meg. She made me go after yesterday. I wish we had decided to do something else, but dinner and movie (Harry Potter) are okay. Squoosh is okay, i am hoping the clinda and prednisone work, that this really is just an abscess.

And I need a job...a better one. I cannot go on worrying all the time like this. This year has beaten the crap out of me financially and emotionally. I want a quiet job at a university doing teaching and research, but at this point, I don't care.

And i have to go. Meg's here.

And I have to find a job...a better one.

sigh.

I just got in from what Meg would call wildcatting about...more on this later. In the meantime, on Thursday, when I was feeding the ferals at Eviljob, in addition to seeing Butler 2: Electric Butleroo (who has let me pet him!), I saw...

Are you ready for this?

Oscar, Rhett Butler's real brother. It has been a LONG time since I have seen Oscar...like YEARS. I posted a pic of Oscar when he was trapped and neutered, and my heart simply *sang* when I saw his fuzzy face. So yay.

I tried to post via email on Monday, but I screwed up the email address, so I have included it below. I have a project due Monday now, and I'll be killing myself to get it finished today. For now, I have to sleep for a while. So until later...hugs. I mean it, whomever you are. Life is too short to not allow yourself a little love and happiness. G'night.

==============

Here's the post from Monday:

I just found out that my great aunt died. This is sad because even though she was ninety-five, I did love her, and I wanted to see her again. But she had a bad fall at her home, and her heart stopped twice in the emergency room, then it stopped a final time after her nurse left to go back home to get her living will, or whatever it is that says whether one wants to be revived or not.

And my piece-of-crap evangelist cousin is in charge of her estate. I cannot *believe* he is such a vulture, but he has done it to other members of our family...I think he scares them, frankly. I mean into thinking about their salvation and crap. I hate him. I think that the only reason he is not ingratiating himself in with mom is because she has three children, where others in our family often haven't anyone in close physical proximity.

Oh, did I say that I hate him?

I have to get back to work, but...so far, 2010 is sucking ass.

Ain't no party like a hospital party, 'cos a hospital party don't stop.

I am sitting and waiting for my laptop to be repaired (because I am a control freak, and do not like leaving things which I consider ultra-personal with strangers, or anyone who isn't, well, *me*) before driving out to Botany Bay to meet Laura for a ton of rescue-cat cat food for my babies at Eviljob. And hopefully to meet Betty for, as I texted, 'coffee, dinner, or kinky sex with a pooled-fund male prostitute'.

She picked coffee, btw.

Butsoanyway.

Of course, this PC repair place is housed in an xtian motivational place, and I have eyerolled so much that i have a headache. Does no one understand that the entire world is not xtian? Well, the total lack of reading material allows me to blog. Except for this needing a bathroom thing.

Speaking of xtians, i have re-friended IRL (like i have the time to go to the bathroom IRL) a guy from ever ago that i sort-of knew, and don't you know, he's still an awesome person (now divorced with a sweet son), and ::drumroll:: an xtian. Bleurgh. Why is it that when everyone loses their crackers, they find Jesus? Is there not some corelational thing there? 'I went batshit, then found my lord, jeebus mice'?  If, then...if, then...

I'm just sayin'. 

Mommy is ok; she was put in hospital for breathing difficulties which turned out to be fluid surrounding he lungs, most of which was drained yesterday, but a large part of her lung was still not filling up, so i had to rage at the day nurse to get mom a spirometer and PT orders, then when i stopped by after work, i had to rage again cos she had basically been abandoned for over five hours with a blood sugar of over 200, in pain, needing to go to the bathroom, etc... i asked for her nurse, the charge nurse, and finally when a tech told me she couldn't do anything more (almost crying), i told her that as fucked-up as this place is, i empathised with her dilemma, and to go take a smoke break or something, and i'd handle it. She left, and the same gaggle of scrubs was clustered around the nurses' station as when I'd been there before, way up at the end of the hall, so i just walked around and removed an arm-full of Steris foam from the dispensers all around, and started having a foam party in the hall.

That got their attention.

All of a sudden, room 5802 was The Place To Be; i can get a party started better than Alig, guys. Not only did i get the charge nurse, but i got the charge nurse phoning a director who was still on. I vented my spleen at the charge nurse, and she assured me that she would (1) get mom's meds immediately, (2) change the dressing herself, and etc.; then Heidi The Director showed up and told me to give back the cans of Steris, or get trespassed off the property. I set them down, and told her to walk around the corner away from pt rooms to talk with me, and she did. By the time i told her the whole thing, she was writing down names, incidents, and times. I told her that if i had ONE more burden added to my caretaking in the form of a broken hip cos no one would spot my mother bathrooming herself, i was going to burn the fucking hospital to the ground to keep their inferior standards of care from hurting one more person, even if it meant i was trapped in it, i was *really* that far beyond caring, and i figured they were on the road to murdering half the people in there, so all I'd be doing was speeding up things a little.

Then she told me about losing her sister to cancer, and how if all of this had happened to her sister, she would feel the same way, and...well...she was being serious. I felt like crap. She gave me her number, and said to phone her before i went off on any more foam parties, and i said that i would.

The poor tech had already cleaned up my mess by the time we came back, so i felt even worse. :-/ i sat with mom until she began to feel drowsy (mind you, i started my foam party at around 11:15 - 11:30), and while we were waiting, more bedlam erupted; an elderly man a few doors down (who was aparrently also being ignored) simply unhooked himself from his shit, and got up and started walking down the hall, screaming 'isn't there a god damned doctor in this hospital? I want to see a doctor!'. And once again, the techs and charge nurse (and Heidi, who was still on the wing) came a-running.

Next time, we are taking Mummers to a different hospital. i can't take this anymore. 

Oh, and when i came back in Mummers' room (I'd done all this away enough that she thought I had just summoned all this help), mom told me she was impressed that I had maturely handled a situation instead of flying off the handle, as i usually do. I just smiled at her. Why try to introduce yourself to a dying person? You and I know I am about as low-key as Tank Girl. Snort.

And I am *starving*. And i am hoping that my PC repair guy isn't pawing through my porn. o_O. Ok, kidding...but i have my blogstuffs and shit on there. And research shit. Well, ok, and porn. XD

Though if i gave in and became a xtian, i guess i could do away with all that, right? Haha.

Ok...more later, cos i'm getting grumpy.

I has a headache.

I am (I know; my mother is dying, and I'm all 'me, me, me') exhausted, and I cannot write anything for shit right now. And i cannot get uninterrupted blocks of time to write. And my mother feels understandably crappy, but she won't take anything for her mood swings, and she is driving me to tears every day.

Sigh...gtg.

Radioactive mommy

She was sick from the radiation yesterday, and i still need to finish Saturday's post. Sorry. Classes have begun again already, and i am doomed and damned if i cannot get this sleeping in hand. I am having nightmares about EVERYTHING, from trying to help mom stop her haematomas from bleeding, and i am all alone and can't get the bleeding to stop, to other shit, being beaten, assaulted, every night is another nightmare. I am not telling anyone about this, so shhh. I am on Facebook til all hours some nights, others i just drug the crap out of myself.

I cannot believe i am losing my batshit crazy mommy. I honest to elvis always thought she would be too bleeding insane to die, actually.

In other news, i am still kinda in love. I don't write about this here, cos it falls somewhere in between mom's dying and my coping with what is appearing to be a hellacious case of PTSD, and it is just out of place. For now.

I am working on getting some shit out as far as pubs, but now i am re-focussed on my actual graduation...i want mom to see it. That means it is sped up a tich.

Well, now back to work...and of course, *now* i am tired. ::sob::

Oh, btw

I am miserable.  And unmotivated to do anything.

Just in case i was unclear before.

Everything good is bad...everything bad is good.

Meg and Mummers are still in Baltimore and even though this is moving faster than here, I have adjusted, and it feels like a snail's pace. I am, for once in my life, so tied up in knots that I am having a hard time thinking.

In other news, Karen is coming back to the program that I am about to leave, and...I am very behind. I just feel sick. Screw it, there isn't Other News, except that I am going to beat Meg half to death if she doesn't start being more forceful. Oh, and, I have totally violated the sanctity of this blog by bringing someone in from Outside. Oh, and have I mentioned that I feel sick all the time anymore? :-\ 

This really is not like me...it just isn't.  Can't we just go back to having fun on here, rescuing cats, and kvetching about stupid people?

Desperation

I can't sleep. Betty's at work, and wanted to know if I will be in Baltimore for her surgery. Probably I will not, but I will tell you that if she has not metastisised, my skin graft scars will be the greatest source of pride for me ever. I might just wear shorts to show them off, because skin grafting means she's savable.

My cat!

This is Squooshable, he's doing well, btw.