a Clockwork Rabbit

1-15-07

what a lonely place to be, until I learn to depend on me
I used to have all my journals, notebooks, sketchbooks and everything else that I’d spouted waxonic in
from before time was charted. Used to. Until the ex destroyed the apartment, and everything that we owned, that is.
All my awards and shortstories, all my everything devoted to paper.
Which is why, I suppose, I refused to write anything down anymore. I guess if the interwebs DOES collapse under it’s own weight I won’t have the horror of seeing it littering the floor of my apartment.
Unless of course my computer explodes along with it.
Which would be a shame.
I was thinking about all those ancient texts when I remembered my “yearly” diary. I wrote on it on (oraround) my birthday, just once a year and listed my thoughts on simple, trite matters… favorate music, movies, books what I’d done in the year that was amazing… blah blah blah.
On the cover I only had the dates, I’d written in this thing since 1990 so there wasn’t much on it when it was destroyed in 2001.
However on the inside cover I’d written “If you will not love me, you will fear me.” A qoute from some movie or book I’d read.
I wonder about myself sometimes. I give people very little chance to win me over. Generally there’s a “one hit” rule. Piss me off once and I’ll hit you… basically.
It’s extreamly flash-fire, when meeting someone new I make instant decisions on them and pretty much stick to them. Dislike will germinate into hate in 6 easy minutes. Expect fruits of spite and animosity in only a few days!
WOW!
Almost anyone will tell you, piss Tangela off and she’ll hate you forever. Isn’t totally true. Usually I just push a person out of my mind and they cease to matter in anyway, positive or negative, to me. That’s been my best defense against drama so far.
Other times I’ll forgive… to a point.
This is how I handle relationships.
Love =’s Forgiveness?
Whatever.
Think of a series of small black boxes.
Each box has a small measure of rich red liquid. As time goes on, the liquid rises and grows redder and redder still.
However, every once in a while one of the boxes capsises and loses it’s share of liquid. The surrounding boxes grow tougher and get higher edges. Sometimes the capsised boxes might rejuvinate but their edges are thin and brittle and their liquid isn’t quite so red or so high.
This it’s like to me.
I have all these boxes that look so damn tough but the one person who fills them with the red, red, croovy is the self same person who ticks me off and makes them cave in.
After a while the majority of the boxes have smashed, most of the liquid is gone, the replacement boxes are wobbly and leaky and I’ve just gotten sick of dealing with it.

Make sense?
No?

1-17-07

Romeo in black jeans

Stinks.
Your friendly local FRA is in debt, T pronouncing is optional.
I found this out today when I recieved a letter from the local not so friendly creditors in reguards to a phone number that is not mine and has never been.
So I gave them a call… here’s the thing about debt collectors… they’ve been hated throughout history and they know it however they try so very hard to weasel themselves onto your good side only to dash your hopes and feigned friendship to the rocks the second you don’t hand over a credit card number.
To.
The.
Rocks.
My wonderful collection jockies name was “Kelly” and she sounded like a he. Which is cool because if it was a dude named Kelly I’d totally bang him.
with a stick.
Jackass.
So it seems that there’s someone out there happily opening telephone accounts in my name.
Thanks.
no, really, thanks.
Ass.

Did some thinking while supporting MARTA today, recently some dude went nuts and killed a bunch of people. Nothing really new about that, but he had a blog. LE GASP! And supposedly he had alot in said blog about “Killing everyone”. Now, can they enter your blog as evidence against you in trial? Seriously, it’s a digital diary prone to be easily taken out of context… especially passionate ranting.
Or mindless ranting as the case may be.
So, I’m just saying this because JUST IN CASE I suddenly snap and do kill everyone my blog won’t be used against me in a court of law.
“Nothing you read here is ever true. All works are fictional. All refrences to real persons, living or dead, is purely a work of fiction and written for personal entertainment purposes only. Also, don’t believe everything that you read. Jerk.”
Now that my ass is inadequatly covered, let us move on.
Did some more thinking while shopping today… I really need to run errands with friends and relations rather than just by myself. I do to much of this “THINKING”.
Anyway, was thinking of my RP character Synthetic. I absolutly loved her, I loved her style her mannerisms, her wit, her anger. I loved it all. The worst thing I could have done to her was exactly what I did to her.
I made her queen.
And subsequently lost her as a cornerstone of my RP experiance.
Stupid.
She got eaten alive by Nuie (another RP cornerstone that I allowed to become overburdened) and was on the BITTER OLD HAG road.
So, I’ve decided to take a few old friends up on a suggestion and write Syn out of Nuie and start a new role play with her. Amazing because I’ve missed roleplay and I’ve missed Syn (she kinda gets into your bones and frosts the place up a little) so, why the hell not?
One of my goals this year was to actually get started on writing something that I actually like, anyway.
So wish me luck and junk and stuff while I head off on a magical journey to find Synthetic’s passion. So maybenot her passion, maybe we’ll go on a bohemian quest to “find ourselves” and forget to shave our legs and neglect to wear deoderant and take up some women’s lib classes.
…wait… hang on, I forget to put on deoderant and shave my legs as it is…I’M 2/3S OF THE WAY THERE ALREADY!!
This promises to be a short trip.
I’ll call.

1-22-06

Jenny don’t you lose my number.

I miss having the internet! I LOATHE not having access to the most trivial of things. Like google. I keep thinking “I’m so gonna google that!” and it never happens.
NEVER!!
Will I ever know if my “Spiders move their legs by bloodpressure” theory is correct? Will I ever know the ending to last weeks “I love New York”? Who has blogged about what now?
I feel so cut off.
What ever did I do for entertainment before the birth of these angry angry internets?
OH. Yeah. I went outside to play.
NOT DOING THAT NOW, THANK YOU.
The outdoors is for the young. Anyway, so this weekend was the EXTRA LONG FIVE HOUR SEASON PREMIERE type meeting for FWA. We viewed the hotel and chatted about what event goes where, there was arguement and lots of icewater.
Why do hotels ply you with icewater? As if your very comfort depended on you being perfectly hydrated and chilled. Are we aquapeople? I could have really used a mango-peach smoothie, thanks.
Apparently the hotel where we are staying has these huge exibition rooms that are being used by the state of Georgia as storagespace.
Well, one of them is, the other one is empty.
That fucking sucks.
Thanks state of Georgia. I’m happy to know that you’re using those tax dollars to rent two hotel exibition rooms for CHAIR AND AIR STORAGE. Never know when you might need to sit down and take a breather, eh?
Actually there wasn’t THAT much argument, in reality there really wasn’t an arguement at all. I just like being over dramatic. Makes for good ratings. It was actually one of those “person a is pissiing of person b but person b is doing everything in their power to not GIVE IN to being pissed because it isn’t really worth getting pissed in the long run” kinda situations which are fun to watch… as long as you’re not person a.
I realised yesterday that I am not really involved in the heavy duty GOOD GOD THIS NEEDS TO BE DONE sort of things. I’m just not that reliable when it comes to deadlines and details.
I know, I suck for that.
HOWEVER I’m really good at doing mindless bitchwork. As long as it doesn’t take too long, then I get disinterested and tend to wander off. Currently I’m SUPPOSED to be helping with the correction of the website (grammer and junk and stuff) but that’s totally “whatever, whenever” and Paul and I’ve taken over the FWA MYSPACE which is cool, mainly because though I hiss and spit about MYSPACE everyone seems to be on there. And by everyone I mean damn near everyone. It’s trendy and popular and NOW, baby.
….and just so you know, I’m www.myspace.com/filthyrotten.
yeah, baby.
The B girl is home sick from school today, poor thing. She woke up at the DAWN OF TIME (somewhere around 5 am) with a stomache ache. When faced with the reality of NOT GOING TO SCHOOL she started to cry.
Not tears of joy (as my son probably would) but because she really really like school and her teachers and junk and stuff. I am somewhat unnerved by this. Not that it’s a bad thing, just unusual. To me. I’m sure somewhere out there in an alternative universe tons of kids are in love with schooling. I would like to see this place, however I wouldn’t want to live there.
Too many nerds.
I guess it’s because she smart (did I tell you she was in an advanced learning class? I hesistate to use the term “gifted” because when I was in school all the “gifted” children wore saftey helmets and licked themselves) and pretty and about as popular as you can be… in kindergarten. All makes for a really swell time, if you ask me.
It’s like a party, math included… which would make it very much NOT  a party as far as I’m concerned.
About school, my son is on the downhill road.
Started off the year with …meh… grades and behavior problems. Such as not sitting still, playing, day dreaming and the like. These behavior problems have escalated into fighting, lying and just NOT doing his work.
I know the fighting is because…well my son is small kinda runty so the other kids pick on him. I’ve always advocated STICK UP FOR YOURSELF and apparently while the kids pick on him and push him around his teacher is cool with it, but when he starts fighting back then I get notes home and requests for meetings.  So I tried to change tactics with B boy, telling him that if the kids screw with him tell the teacher or attendant or SOMEONE. Which will probably get him tagged as a tattler.
But it’s one of the two evils. Either fight back and get in trouble with the teacher or try to get away from the situation and get called names… which will only escalate the fucking problem as far as I’m concerned.
I remember when I was in elementry school in Texas. Those fuckers would spend SO MUCH FUCKING TIME trying to get me to fight, RIGHT in front of the teacher, dude. They’d kick me or pull my hair or call me names and the teacher would turn a blind eye to it all. I was totally baffled, in Chicago I was used to teachers being all “No, you will not behave like this in MY class you little shit!” and then shoot the offending student in the kneecap.
I had to seriously relearn how to deal with people, meaning I had to not be scared that I’d get into trouble and beat the snot out of people who fucked with me.
I have the certanty that this is what’s happening to my son in class. He gets fucked with and no one says a thing but when he fights back then he’s a problem. I also think his teacher doesn’t like him much because he’s not the easiest kid to keep on task.
You have to involve B boy in what’s going on, even then he’ll go off on a tangent and you have to refocus him.
The lying thing is totally new to me. I take responsiblity for this because I have treated everything they say as the truth, believing them in most situations… B boy has begun to use this to his advantage.
So now I flat out tell him that I don’t believe him (even when I do) and check the sources. I’ve sat down with him and told him that lying ruins my trust in him. I think it all fell on deaf ears.
He doesn’t focus, so he screws up ALOT of stuff that you give him to do on his own. Instead of telling someone or asking questions he kind of pushes it out of sight and just goes back to fucking off.
I’ve asked him a thousand times “what were you thinking? that I wouldn’t notice that you shoved all your dirty clothes, homework, little sister and the cats under your bed?” and all I get in return are those great big eyes staring up at me and “I don’t know…” or a shrug. Which pisses me the hell off.
There are only so many spankings I can deliver on a daily basis before I start to feel like an absolute abuser. I don’t want to say that sitting and talking situations through with him doesn’t work, because that isn’t true… well it isn’t always true.
So I sit and talk with him, then if he keeps up the behavior he gets punished or gets stuff taken away from him.It just gets to a point where I want to screw off the top of his head and see if there’s a crayon stuck in his brain or something.
It seems like the second he gets to school his fuck-off rate goes up 110% and he doesn’t even TRY to restrain himself. I don’t want to be the kind of parent that has to show up at school unannounced three and four times a week just so their kid is too scared to fuck up.
Nice, B boy just came home with a notice from the school nurse. Apparently one of the kids in his class smashed his head into the wall hard enough to merit a trip to the nurses office.
I fucking hate this school. About to go call and bitch out the principle. Again.

1-26-07

Hey-o, Listen to what I say-o

News flash! Your local filthy rotten angel has come down with a freakin’ headcold.
More news after this.
Yerp, add that to the fact that my dreams seem to be hunted to extinction and I’ve graduated from “generally grumpy” to “grumpy all the time”.
Really?
….I’d like to thank the academy…
For the past few weeks I haven’t been able to sleep past 4 am. Then cut off time turned to 3 am… then 2 am… and tonight I was blessed with a 1:15 wake up time.
I hate this, laying in bed thinking about the same things over and over, finally dozing off right before the alarm sounds, getting maybe 2 hours of sleep after everyone clears out for the day…
I’m starting to adverage between 4 and 6 hours of sleep in a 24 hour period.
Not good.
especially since I THRIVE on sleeping my ass off.
maybe that’s what happened!! I overdosed on slumber. Oh gods!
meanwhile, back at the ranch…

So, 2 days ago B boy was back in the nurses office because some kid (actually the same kid as before) kicked him in the back of the head.
Gr.
Fucking, RAGE. By the time I was able to get there the principle had already called the kids mom and had him taken out of school for the day. I was totally ready to withdraw my son from the school. I just have HAD it with B boy getting roughed up while there.
The principle met with me so did the parent/teacher liason.
Thing is the day before I had JUST met with the parent/teacher liason AND b-boy’s teacher in reguards to this kind of crap going on.
I told the principle all over again what I told the parent/teacher liason about the fact that all sorts of shit happens to b-boy on a pretty regular basis but his teacher pretty much blows if off, which makes me think that this ONE FUCKING KID feels pretty confident that he can get away with damn near anything. So long story shorter, I didn’t withdraw B boy out of the school but I am thinking about having him switch classes after his scholastic testing.
I could go on and on about this but I won’t, it will just make me feel more despondant. What if changing classes doesn’t matter, what if my son is the cause of all this and no matter what changes it will always be the same?
These thoughts and more brought to you by Lack of Sleep, inc… where all your paranoia come to life!
Back to sleep, lack of and the same thoughts rolling around my head for hours, I find that I tend to get myself all worked up and angry over stupid things people say/ do that I would normally just let go.
I don’t like this aspect of the new, grumpier me. I’m supposed to be more emo, with black nail polish and maybe a piercing or two. Ready to defend myself with Bright Eyes lyrics and dangerous swaying… not all “grrrrrrrrrrrr…… I’LL KILL YOU!!” hours after some incident with an idiot.
Well, I’m tired of rubbing my nose with this tissue so I’m gonna try going back to bed.
…in a second…
I HATE how even the most loving, generous, soft and silky tissue turns into acid spitting sand paper the second or third day of having to constantly blow your nose. I also hate that when i’m all “grrr, sick” Paul is all “awww…” and tries to pet me and give me hugs and kisses.
….. I sometimes wonder if he’d try to cuddle a rabid raccoon if it was cute enough.
A rabid raccoon with a penchant for human flesh is sooooo less likely to attempt to eat his face than I am when I don’t feel well.

1-29-07

“Well, you sneezed before and didn’t have a baby.”

Let us put aside all the school + children related crap for a moment and focus more on something diffrent.
THINGS THAT HAVE TICKLED MY HA-HA.
Used to be I had a running list of things that made me laugh. Just a little mental list, nothing that took up oodles of notebooks or anything. Thing is I let this LIST OF HILARITY slip a litte. Poor me! I had nothing to make me laugh when things got boring.
So I’ve decided to fix this, how? Derno.
Anyway, during this weeks FWA staff meeting TigerPaw was talking about his plans for storing some plasma TVs next year. One of his thoughts was to let some random staff member keep it @ their place and use it for the year.
Cool.
Well he and Paul and the rest of us got to laughing over said hypothetical staff member taking off with the TV.
Something like:
Paul: I O U 1 Plasma TV. Sorry Tiger, had 2 go 2 Marz
Tiger: TV only ride.
This little exchange woke me up in the middle of the night last night for a post-bad-dream-giggle.

I had something else to write about, but I forgot.
Anyway, so weze got a car, now.
I’m all relieved to be able to get out and about and DO stuff, it’s freaking insane, I KNEW how crippled we’ve been without an auto but to just SEE how much it helps out in everyday life.
I’m retarded with happiness and joy. Watch out for slinging drool.
That is all.

1-30-07

Mister Lover-Lover

Tommorow is Paul’s birthday. Nothing special about that in itself… just I totally don’t remember what happened last year on his birthday. Mind you I remember him coming OVER on his birthday… and I remember bangin’… but like the rest of that day? A total blank, dude.
UNFORTUNATE.
We were chatting last night about memory and (his) lack of it. I realise that while I have an uncanny ability to recall conversations and details it doesn’t last. It’s like once I use my recall once it gets wiped out of my data banks and replaced with SpongeBob Squarepants footage.
Which is cool with me, to a point.
Scares me how I can ask someone a question, get the answer and BEFORE they’re even done talking I’ve already forgotten what they said.
Nothing new to me about that, I’m used to it. High school was an adventure in “Huh, what?”
On the other hand I can (and will) keep HIGHLY detailed mental documentation of ANYTHING that pisses me off. Chatting with someone and they get snarky? I’ll be able to pull that conversation up in about 50 years without screwing up one nuance of wording.
Me, hold grudges?
hell yeah.
Anyway, back to Paul’s birthday… part of me is all “should throw a party or something” but his friends annoy the shit out of me. So swallow it and try to get them together anyway?
… you’re insane, shut the fuck up.
… on a totally diffrent note that’s not very diffrent at all… I just called up his friends and sister and invited them out on Sat night. I have no idea what the fuck I want to go out and do on Sat… but I did it. Grrr. I’m probably going to be totally all “No you go out and have fun, dude!!” and stay home with the kids because this promises to be a long engagement and having it here at the house is totally and completely OUT of the question… our place is too fucking small.
anyway, I’m off to do more planning.
kill me now.

1-31-07

INSULTED- by a hairstylist

Dude, I was totally burned by a hairstylist. Granted, my head WAS looking like I’d been hiding it under a wool hat allday… which I was…but for seriously though!!
When it happened I realised just how well I’ve trained myself these last few years to not go off.
WHAT I WANTED to say was “Why the fuck would I come back here to YOU to get my hair done, you look like mother fucking Buckwheat ‘n’ shit!!”
Instead, because he was so cool (and patient) with Paul’s haircutting I instead just kinda laughed it off.
Kinda.
Anyway, I’m off to make some pop’ed corn.
WHO WILL JOIN ME?!

2-02-07

If you’re fine
then I’m fine
cuz
If you don’t shine,
then I don’t shine.

Also, I’m chock fulla sicka being pregnant, thanks.
Little things, like running to the local mart make me all tired, I want to go pick up that 5 gallon box of water…and I can’t… because I’m overburdened with baby.
Snarl.
Anyway, according to Paul’s mom Keegan is Welsh for “Ball of Fire”. She ended her text message with “have fun with that.” I’m totally expecting this one to be the hell raiser. Bryce is emo, Breanna is Princess pretty girl and Keegan? well he’s probably gonna be all OI OI OI and punk rock diapers. Bringing home toddlers of ill repute to play late night rounds of hungry hungry hippo while drinking ferminted baby juice and pimpin’ their stollers.
What a world, what a world.
I bought a bomberhat from Walmart… I waited until the price fell from 9 bucks to 3 bucks… I only bought one, though… I love it but I was scared that I’d look like a total idiot in it.
And I do.
I look like a cast member from the stage-adapted version of “horton hears a who” or something. But I love it. For some reason it highlights the fact that my eyes are almondshaped and kinda slanty. Maybe because the hat is too tight, pulls my face up. ROCK ON FOR FACE LIFTS OF THE 21ST AND A HALF CENTURY.Next on my list are Quiddich goggles.
Watch me work.
Alright I’m off to see the wizard, and probably get around to posting this on the entarwebs.
Oh, also…
Snow Patrol’s song “You’re all I have” makes me cry.
But so does House, M.D. and Avatar:the last airbender.
Don’t go thinkin’ I’m a creampuff.
I wouldn’t recommend it, not no way, not no how.