My mother is getting married to her boyfriend on Aug 4th. I'm not enthused about it. She's not even enthused about it. This wedding is so fucking wrong. He annoys her on several levels. All I hear about is how his habits annoy her. I think she seriously believes that marrying him will change him. I've confronted her about all this. I've told her that marrying someone with the expectation for them to suddenly change is the stupidest thing I've ever heard. And she agreed with me. But she's in denial or something, because part of her still wants to believe it will make everything change. He's a nice enough guy, but he's just kind of off. They're incompatible. I predict that they'll be divorced soon enough after they get married. Don't get me wrong, I don't wish my mom grief, but I know how she is and I know that these things that piss her off now will only continue to pile up, and she'll be the one to break it off with him if it comes to that. But there's nothing I can do to stop it - I already said my piece, and she tried to convince me that all of my concerns (issues that she herself told me) were being handled. I don't think they are. Now I just have to let what will happen, happen.

This needs to fucking stop. I'm so sad right now, I'm crying. Eric James Borges contributed to the "It Gets Better" project, a series of videos by various people to let gay teens know that life will get better, and just keep hanging in there because there is hope.


January 12th, a month after he produced this video, Eric lost that hope and took his life.

I didn't know him, I won't pretend to, but this is just too much. The hate needs to stop. Life is hard enough. Never again will I tolerate someone hating homosexuals, or belittling us in any way. Fucking never.

I'm angry that it came to this, and that he surely isn't the only one hurting and struggling to find a reason just to go on every single day. I know I sometimes wonder why I go on living, why I don't just give up. I will go on for Eric, and for everyone else who has suffered so much and lost the fight. I will put my foot down for them and for the rest of us who are struggling to live in this world. This needs to fucking stop.

Okay, I'm back.  I need to clean house on my blogs.  I've been moping around the internet going, "where can I share my thoughts?" and then I was like, "duh, I used to have blogs I actually wrote in."

So one blog I'm using to keep track of my meals, cals, exercise, and weight.  I am not overweight - I am 'obese' and I need that to stop.  If anyone is interested in that journey, this is the blog: http://weightworry.blogspot.com/ but I'd like to keep things separated from now on.  :)

So what else is up in my life?

My cat had babies 2 days before Christmas
My sister-in-law gave me another nephew the day after Christmas (I'm an auntie x3!)
I fell into and out of love. Ow.
I managed to keep my part-time job for long-term. Wow.
I've been happily writing thousands of words of fanfic. Big yay!
My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic (no, the fanfic is not for that)
Typical dramaz at home

Oh, and my mom is planning on buying an actual HOUSE soon and moving me somewhere.  Not a big move, distance-wise, but wow an actual house. My mind is blown. I thought for sure I was way too poor for that.

Day one of my 'college' experience.  What a not awesome experience.  TL;DR below the cut

Today my neighbors came to me, one of them holding a white towel in her hands.  She'd found a baby animal lying on the ground and wondered what to do for it.

The little guy is hairless, the length of my thumb, has sharp little claws, and make BIG yawns.  He's very active and wiggles all around and stretches his little legs.

Yaaaawn!

I'm pretty sure now that he is a baby squirrel.  I know that normally one should not pick up the baby so the mother can claim it, but in this case I think the right choice was made. It seems like the baby was already abandoned on the ground for at least an entire night (the neighbor heard squealing noises last night) and he is also wounded, as you can see in the picture above and below.  It looks like maybe a cat tried to bite him. It's scabbed up already, and I hope it will be okay but for such a little guy it's sort of big looking.  He also has a scrape on the back of his head.

Next to a quarter, for size reference.

The neighbor has decided to take care of him (rather to my disappointment. I got so attached!)  I printed off these instructions for her to take care of the squirrel.  She'll have to keep him warm, feed him regularly, help him potty, etc.

Lucky for him that he was found today, because just after I brought him inside to identify him, it started pouring outside. Imagine this little orphan caught in the rain!  Too many cats outside, as well. I'm amazed that he survived whatever attacked him the first time.


If he lives through the next few days, then things will look good for him! I have hope because he is such an active little thing, wiggling all around the way he did.

I decided to call him... Chance.  Because I'm a sucker like that. :-P  Here's to hoping!

ETA: It died.

Yes, a wish.

True fucking story.

My mother has a history of mental illness.  Most of my childhood is filled with memories of her convulsing in a seizure that never seemed to end, or schizophrenic episodes, or her trying to kill herself.  And I was spared from most of it, being very detached from reality as a kid.

I remember eating jelly beans as a kid, and sorting out the black ones for my mom to eat.  Except that she fell asleep, and wouldn't wake up.  And then she started shaking.

I remember having friends over for the night, and watching with them from my bedroom window while my mom was put into an ambulance for what felt like the millionth time.

I remember her losing her memory and me having to follow her through a strange city with no shoes on.  She wanted to go for a walk and wouldn't wait.  She stopped at a house I'd never seen before because we'd never lived in that city, and her insisting that she lived there for years and planted the tree in the front yard.

I remember her freaking out because she thought that there were locusts and rats all over her body.

And her swallowing all of the pills in her prescription bottles.

This went on for YEARS.  It started when I was seven, as far as I even remember, and going on to junior high school (8th grade).

In 8th grade I met my first girlfriend, and consequently, I met one of her long-standing friends.

He was a lanky kid with shoulder-length greasy hair and a pimply face.  The first thing he ever said to me was, "Will you go out with me?"  I said "No."  He cheered, explaining that he was on a hot streak of rejections.

He told me that he was a druid.  He and my girlfriend very much enjoyed a variety of things that I can only describe as Tolkien-ish.  It was beyond my understanding, but it seemed very high fantasy.  It's still beyond my understanding.

One day he explained to me about wishes, and that for some reason or another (I might have done something to earn them, but I'm not sure) he owed me three wishes.

He begged me for days to make my wishes, but I waited.  Because even though wishes seem impossible, I wasn't careless enough to just throw them away.

Finally I told him one thing that I wanted.  I wanted my mom to be cured.  Medication was like a wild carousel of Not Helping.  She was either going to have a seizure and never wake up again, or she was going to kill herself.

He drew some symbols on the ground and did his thing.  Then he asked what else I wanted.  I told him I'd wait and see if my mom got better first.

I lost contact with him.  I have no idea where he is and haven't seen him again.

Since then my mother has never had an issue.  No seizures.  No schizophrenia.  No more chasing a woman who doesn't remember who I am.  She's gone from completely unstable, having her driver's license taken away, some sort of episode once a week at BEST, to having a job, living a normal life, just being... totally FINE.

I didn't even connect the dots until earlier this year.  I realized my life used to be a whirlwind of ambulances coming every damn night for my mom.  None of that happened anymore.  I told my friend about it.  He was skeptical, but he couldn't deny that my mom had gone from a total jar of rocks to a normal human being.  Coincidence, you could say, but f*ck you, it's magic!!!

One thing I learned, though, is that my mother is a massive bitch.  :/  You can't blame bipolar for everything.

So, you're welcome, mom.  I cured you with a druid's wish, and you don't even know.

Seriously.

I wrote earlier about how people can have some conflicting things about them.  One of mine is that I don't identify with a religion, don't believe in a God, and yet sometimes I really wish that I could believe in a religion.

I don't want to start a debate about religions here.  It's kind of pointless in my opinion, and just ends up bringing out the worst in people.  That's part of the reason why I don't like religions... the people involved, and the fact that it seems to tear humanity apart.

I've looked at the theories behind a lot of religions.  I find that I can respect pretty much all of them, and find them admirable.  In theory, at least.  I've even looked up exactly what Satanism is.  I found out that the only real difference between a Satanist and a Christian is that the former believe that if someone does you wrong, you strike back.  It made me think about how many people I knew who called themselves Christians, but would without a doubt strike back.

Far be it for me to judge someone.  I just wish that when a baby is born in the US, it isn't automatically assumed to be straight and Christian.  It seems like a lot of people just go with what they consider to be the "norm" rather than actually choosing it.  My biggest sign of respect to religion is to not call myself a practitioner of anything.  I refuse to become a hypocrite and further give any religion a bad name.  I studied Wicca for a full year, and decided not to call myself anything of the sort because I knew I couldn't live up to the "harm none" belief, while I still thought it was funny to laugh at other people's short comings. I was only 11 then.

My life would probably be fine like this.  But I still have restless nights when I really think about the reality of DEATH.  It's not a trip to fluffy clouds for me.  For me, that's pretty absurd.  Also, I acknowledge that I'm not a good person.  If Christianity is right (sorry, others, but it's what I'm raised with) then I'd be going to hell.  I've even had a dream in which I received a call from my stepfather and he told me that he wanted to let me know that I wouldn't be seeing him again, because I don't have a soul.

For me, the thought of death goes like this... What will happen?  Will it be like falling asleep, but I never wake up again? Will I see new things, like in a dream, or will that be impossible because my brain stops working?  I guess that it wouldn't be so bad, because if it's just like never waking up, then it won't be painful.  But that's so sad at the same time, to never wake up, and never know.  Just to stop existing.  And then I think, but at least it won't happen to me.  And then I think, No.  It WILL happen to me.  Like a roller coaster you really don't want to be on anymore, but you can't get off, and there's no turning back.  It will happen to ME, whether I'm ready or not.  And it's so scary.

I wish I could believe in a god, any god, and a happy afterlife to look forward to.  But I really can't.  I even wish I could lose enough brain cells to get myself to believe in something that sounds like a fantasy land.  I already have trouble connecting with reality, so this shouldn't be so hard, you'd think.

I want to believe in you, oh sparkly ghost!

People have such interesting brushes with the unknown.  This whole question is why I'm so fascinated by the paranormal, I think.  But those superstitions and religions have existed for years, so I know I'm not the only one.  The question for me is, did they find something real, or are billions of people just desperate enough or foolish enough to believe in a story that someone made up?  How does it feel to be one of the people who say that they can look into their hearts and know these things to be true?  I may find it ridiculous now, but I bet it'd feel pretty good to have faith in something.

And then I remember that it seems like too many people only believe so they can feel morally justified, or other selfish reasons.  I know that doesn't describe everyone, and it shouldn't stop me from finding a religion, but it does.

Time for another blog chain!

This month's prompt: Setting the Scene

Write a location description, and make us feel as if we are there. No dialogue, no introductory comments, just a location. We're the tourists, you're the guide.

---

There's a divergence along the road, splitting off to the left.  For the last few miles, drivers went by lush green trees with branches full of thick leaves, and only glimpses of a space beyond, glimpses at a silvery expanse of water.  Now this new path leads to a clearing through the beautiful but isolating trees. The road turns from smooth tar to sun-baked dirt as it approached the water.  There is a small row of parking spaces, and not another soul around.  Leaving the vehicle behind, one can walk down to the lake's shore and look over the water.  The sun is hot and bright, but a wind blows just gently enough to keep the air comfortable.  There are colorful canoes along the far away sides of the lake.  The water is a narrow stretch, but it is long - looking straight out, one can only see a endless path of water into the horizon.  Perhaps it even does go out to the ocean.

A rusted sign says No Swimming, but a dip doesn't seem necessary anyway.  A small dock stretches out onto the water.  Walking onto the firm wooden planks is like being on the playground again as a child.  On each side one can see rocks and plants just underneath the water.  They have a yellowish tone, with light rippling around them, and a slightly slimy look.  Unfortunately, there are no fish to be seen.  As one walks out further, the water darkens until even squinting, the bottom is no longer visible.  With a shift of weight, one can gently rock the dock side to side.  There's something entirely relaxing about water, or the calm, quiet day, or the warm weather.  A temptation to go ahead and ignore that No Swimming sign.  Not that a swim would be necessary, but it would be fun.



orion_mk3 - http://nonexistentbooks.wordpress.com (link to this month's post)
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egoodlett - http://wordlarceny.blogspot.com/ (link to this month's post)
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Aheïla - http://thewriteaholicblog.wordpress.com/ (link to this month's post)
faerydancer - http://digitalinkwell.wordpress.com (link to this month's post)
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Robbi Sommers Bryant - http://www.robbibryant.blogspot.com (link to this month's post)

Graduation is truly an amazing experience. After years of hardship, frustration, and tedium, things begin to clarify and wind down. I've heard many things about graduating and preparing for what's next, and I'd like to put out my own experiences.

Mostly, I'd like to negate a lot of phrases that students will hear in their lifetime.

1. "These are the best years of your life."
Lord, I hope not. Academically, high school sucks. But I will admit, I had so much fun in high school, but here's why - it's because I learned to let myself have fun and laugh at the fashionable shoes of "cool" and "normal". I started as a little dorky freshman who had such low self esteem, she wouldn't look anyone in the eye. I was afraid to speak in class because I thought that I'd fail the course or something if I answered a question wrong. Then I dated, and though I wasn't ready for a relationship, that gave me such a confidence boost. And then I cut my hair. Long brown hair down to my butt - shaved off and dyed into a red mohawk. I had never been happier in my life! From then on I realized more and more that I should do what I want. I still had tons of friends, and better yet I knew those friends liked me for who I was, not because I was buying X brand of clothes. I fell madly in love with unicorns, I wore sombreros and giant sunglasses to class, I sang love ballads in busy hallways. I did have a great time, but it was full of a lot of suck, including a mental breakdown in junior year, when I realized I had to stop being a perfectionist.

2. "It's easy to get involved in __."
Can I just say how hard this can be? Sports, for one, are next to impossible to get into unless you've always been in them. The Fall sports start before school even begins, and you will not get the memo if you're new. Seek it out immediately and join. It's hard, but it's worth it.

In the same vein, music - join early and stick with it. I wish I had even known about music programs back in the day. There are awards that people get in things like marching band or sports teams for being in it for 4 years. Which means if you join a year late, you don't even get a chance. I love shiny awards at the end of the year.

Clubs - stick with them, but especially in senior year. I didn't really have time in my senior year for clubs, but I should have made time. Mainly it was laziness on my part. The trouble is, you could be the go-to person for your club one year, but if you're not in it senior year, no one cares. I joined the school's Honor Society in my senior year. Best choice, because I get all of the nice awards and none of the mandatory meetings.

Senior year is the time to jump through hoops to get your awards, and also volunteer because...

3. "Go to college."
No. College isn't for everyone. Think about it. If you only want to go to college to study some sort of liberal arts philosophy basket weaving thing, you're wasting your time and money. Sure, it might be a good experience, but college is damn expensive and in this day do you really think you're going to get a job as a philosopher? To be honest, I would rather go to a community college and learn how to work on cars for a living than go off to college for women's studies or something whose job market is an abstract concept.

4. "You can afford to go to any college you want."
Yeah, right. I've been told I'll get all the financial aid I need to go to school. My family has no income, I have no income, and I have no college fund. Currently I'm hoping like hell that the last scholarship that hasn't come back yet will come through for me. It's a big one, but there's still a risk that I'll be short 6,000 or more. That'll have to come out my pocket. And by that, I mean I'll have to take out a loan now (and assuming I get the loan at all) and then hope like hell I get a job when I graduate so I can pay off my student loans for years to come. I was literally told by my financial guide that choosing between schools meant "deciding how much debt you want to have." I want no debt at all! But someone like me is screwed because we need help and don't get it. Choosing college wasn't even a thing when I realized there was a 20k difference between my options.

5. "Apply to Scholarships"
This one is not a lie. The lie comes from them not promoting scholarships enough. Apply like crazy. Stay on scholarships as soon as senior year starts, like an angry hornet. Tackle every single one you might be able to get, big or small.

Scholarships tend to look for these qualities:
Academic decency
Atheltic goodness
Community service **
Financial need
You are a woman

To be honest, academic seems to be the least important thing on the list. B students are usually in the clear (okay, well this is coming from an A student so I'm biased). There are many scholarships for athletes but most important of all is the community service part. Scholarships seem to go crazy over you being able to show that you spoon feed old ladies every weekend. DO VOLUNTEER WORK IF YOU PLAN TO GO TO COLLEGE.

6. "You may hate ___ now, but you're going to miss them when you graduate."
No. I'm really a bleeding heart over lots of things, and I'm certainly not a staunch "My class needs to die" person, though I've probably said it at least seven times. As class marshall, I get to stand up in front of the class and direct them. I get a sense of pride when my class marches in, left right left, and they all sit down at command. We clean up nice. But will I miss them?

First of all, I don't really get to pal around with every single person in my class. There are, amazingly enough, a few I've seen just now and I have no freaking clue who they are or where they came from. The nice thing about highschool is that it breaks you apart from your friends. You may have 3 classes with someone every day for a semester, and then your schedule changes and you never see them again. There are kids I haven't seen in so long I didn't even know if they dropped out or not.

So when I see these people graduating, they make look nice for a change but it doesn't make them nice people suddenly. The drug abusers will still be drug abusers. The bitchy assholes will still be that way. The annoying kids will still make my skin crawl. The mentally unstable will still be prone to screaming outbursts. They may change years later... but not in one day.

Ye must live an' let live, fairly take and fairly give.

This time I will focus less on what Mark Ventimiglia says in his book, because this line I would like to interpret for myself. It may seem self-explanatory. To me it almost is, but my opinions do differ here from his. So below, this is all me.

"Ye must live." This line has several meanings in itself. The Rede urges us to live. Does it mean to let our lives go naturally, or to live life to the fullest? To me it is both. Realize that each day, you are alive. Your choices influence the world around you. One should strive to make positive contributions to the world as often as possible. Help a friend, show someone you care, do something to take the load off of someone else. These things can be small, but they build up to be something huge.

"An' let live." This is the other side to life; realizing that you are not the only person in the world. There are other people, other valid points of few, and an infinite number of things that deserve respect and acknowledgment. These three simple words bid us not to interfere with another life in a harmful way. Do not kill an animal just for the sake of killing it. Try to disturb as little of nature as possible. Perhaps this also goes into the "fairly take" part of the line as well. If you must disturb life, either harvesting plants or hunting animals, then take as much as you need but don't become greedy and wasteful.

"Fairly take." One should only take as much as they need, or what actually belongs to them. There is a morality here: do not steal, do not more of anything than you deserve.

"Fairly give." Greed is an ugly thing. There is a true pleasure in being able to share with others. You share love and happiness as well as good will. But there is a line in giving that one has to be aware of. These are covered much later in the two lines, "When ye have an' hold a need, hearken not to others' greed" and "With a fool no season spend, lest ye be counted as her friend." I will save these two for their own time, and only say here: do not let people abuse your good will. True friends will stay with you even if you have no wealth to share.

In all, this line of the Wiccan Rede teaches us to live our lives in balance. Recognize the importance of everything around you, and your own place in the world. Do not let greed get the best of you. If you have what you need, then everything else should flow. There is nothing wrong with enjoying some luxuries, but overindulgence takes the fun out of a treat. ;)

What do you think?