Kokoro no Yami

I haven't posted in such a long time, and I feel so out of the loop...on a lot of things. I see I even made a couple of new friends while I was away. Hello.

I'm a little frazzled and depressed right now for a couple of reasons.

1.) I can't wait for school to begin. I hate saying that because you're supposed to love your kids, and I do, but Jamie is impossible to please. I can't keep doing things one-on-one with him all day long because he has an older brother and a younger sister who need attention, too, and this really seems to piss him off. So he yells all day long. It's starting to get on my nerves, and it shouldn't. I'm only human, after all, I guess.

2.) I really wanted to move back to Minneapolis in August, but that looks like it's not going to happen. Jeremy wants to move in September now (for many valid reasons), but I feel as if we don't move now, we'll never move away from this godforsaken state. The longer I stay here, the more depressed I become. I'm starting to feel like a caged animal.

3.) It's frustrating to talk to your shemale neighbor and be told that "you don't understand what it's like to think like a guy and want to be treated like a woman". Hello? I grew up in a mostly male household with a lot of male friends, so I believe I do know what it's like to think like a guy because I've been doing that a good portion of my life which is why I have a hard time making friends with girls. Hell, it's also probably the reason I can't keep a girlfriend. I wanted to ask, "Do you know what it feels like to have one half of your soul satisfied while the other half is still crying out to be resolved?" I'll probably never have another girlfriend until my kids are grown or old enough to understand, at least, and since Jamie will most likely never go to college, get a job, or get married, I'll never have someone to complete that other half.

4.) I don't understand my brothers. The both of them (along with my father) are now on Facebook, so I figured, "Hey, Facebook is an easy way to talk to them and maintain some sort of family-like relationship." No. One brother defriends me because I "don't agree with his politics" and "make him feel dumb". Then the oldest one stops talking to me because he's siding with the other one. Well, hey, I understand. I mean, I came to the family way late in the game, and you two are closer. Gee, what I wouldn't give to have a younger sister or brother with whom I could be close, too. Again, why was I born?

5.) I keep putting off writing even though I wish I didn't. There's too many distractions around here (kids, modding games, etc), and I suppose I also feel a little terrible for waiting so long to update. I know that I keep gaining more readers (threatening to kick my ass into gear), but I can't help feeling that no one wants to keep up with a story that can't be updated regularly, so no one's reading anymore. I have a chapter ready to go and two more new stories in my head, but I keep refraining from uploading because of these reasons.

5.) I can't keep in contact with what friends I do have, and I've started wondering lately if I do have any friends because of this. I don't mean to grow apart from people. Underneath it all, I'm still a loner who doesn't know what to say to people sometimes. I feel especially bad about this because there are many wonderful projects I'd love to do with Marcos, but I'm sure he's too busy for me, and who in their right mind would want to deal with my inconsistent schedule?

I'm starting to go crazy with claustrophobia, being in this damn house, but there's no place to go outside (and too many murders and rapes taking place in this neighborhood).

What a strange dream! I was being chased down by zombies, only to be rescued by Paul McCartney on a flying piano. Yeah. In his Wings mullet.

In any case, today is the big day! I get to be a part of another piece of history (better, this time). Welcome, President Obama! I know you'll do what's within your power to fix the mess Bush left, and I thank you.

Oh, that reminds me...wonder what 11th Hour Miracle Pardons Bush performed yesterday?

Bah, I've been neglecting this, but this would have been filled with useless drivel and angst on my part. See, I've been in and out of doctors' offices and hospitals over the past few months (bad case of walking pneumonia and red bloody-looking stuff coming from orifices that it shouldn't). Then my oldest son was diagnosed with asthma. And well, December is just a depressing month for me (for many reasons), so I haven't felt like doing much (although my writing muse has returned somewhat). Oh, and I nearly forgot about the horrid temperatures we've been experiencing here, and being without hot water for a long time because the pipes froze and broke underneath the house.

Winters suck for me, in general. I wonder if I have SAD to top it all off? When Spring comes round again, I'll feel fine.

I got Norman's book for Christmas, so I'm working my way through that when I've got time (and the massive amounts of posts I've missed, especially the drama at JHP). I admit to trying to flip through the back part of the book to find the whole "John's Princess" stuff, but I've yet to be successful. I apparently missed Paul on Stern and all the chaos that generated, dammit. Still giggling like crazy over Paul liking the theory that John was gay for him.

Kagome will be 5 on the 26th. Boy, time flies. The last of my babies will finally be in school full-time next year.

Next month, I'll be 31 and officially OLD. And lucky me, my birthday is Friday the 13th! See? I AM CURSED. XD

Oh, for those who don't know, I'm on Facebook a lot, so find out about adding me and whatnot.

My oldest brother apparently worked out Junk on his mandolin a few months back. Sounds beautiful. He's got a new octave mandolin that a friend made for him, and he's been playing a lot of Hendrix and Floyd stuff on it. The Hendrix stuff sounds especially awesome.



My father told me the other day that Jim and Gordon Bonham won a contest here in Indy. I'm guessing a Blues-related contest. In any case, in February, they go to Memphis for the international portion? Here's hoping they win that, too.

Also, apparently my brothers performed for family a few weeks back at my mother's house (they haven't done this in ages and did it for my grandfather who's supposedly dying from cancer). Only one day after the fact does my mother mention this to me.

Mom: Jim and Phil came to the house and played for us yesterday. I haven't heard my boys play in years!

Me: (teeth grinding) Oh, really? I wish I could have been there. I haven't been with them in the same room (with the exception of Grandma's funeral) since high school (and now I'm old enough to join in, dammit).

Mom: I don't know why I didn't think to invite you! It slipped my mind!

Me: ... [facepalm.jpg]

My oldest nephew, Andrew (Phil's son), even played a song he'd learned. God dammit.

Why do people in my family forget that I am musically-inclined, too? Fuck, it's like days of old where Jim and Phil are the awesome ones, and I'm just the retarded little sister. Sometimes I feel like I don't belong to this family.

Sigh.

I miss doing things together. I still remember a tape of songs Phil and I made when I was little. I think Mom and Dad had just separated.

I wish I could have been good enough (or old enough) to go on stage with them.

Now I am, but I'm too old, too far away, and too scared that I'll never measure up. Yes, they are that damn good.

Of course, I suppose I shouldn't worry. Mr. Hyde told me time and again that I was good enough to get into Juilliard...but who knows if he was just saying that shit to be nice.

I miss singing.

I just want to give up, really. Jeremy and I have been arguing a lot lately, and when I admit that I'm just scared about shit, it's like he never even heard me. Now we aren't talking. I have no one to talk to but this goddamn journal.

I'm the first one to say that I'm not perfect, so it really irks me when people tell me all about my flaws as if I don't know these things.

Maybe everything really is my fault. I don't know anymore. I'm going so crazy, I don't know what's real.

Heh, earlier, I had someone on Youtube call me an asshole and tell me that I should die, literally. Just because I said that their statement about "all music beyond The Beatles sucks" is a tad ignorant, and that they should consider looking for bands that have been influenced by The Beatles if they don't like the rest of what today's rock/pop has to offer.

So I should die for saying that.

I don't know. Maybe.

Sometimes, I wish this would end. I'm too old for this shit. Everything hurts so much now.

Man, oh man, I hope the news about a Beatles-related Guitar Hero game is true. I've been waiting for that (and Pink Floyd and Jethro Tull and) since we first bought the game. Of course, the game is changing and becoming more like Rock Band which means I'll be able to sing the hell out of their catalog. If it works out like the Aerosmith one (and their early early QM, JM, and SB stuff starts out the game), then I will be hella thrilled. Three Cool Cats and Besame Mucho are two of my favorites to sing. cha cha boom!

I promise to be a good girl during the next year if it's made.

Also, are House writers taking ideas from fanfiction? House is so obviously hot for Wilson, someone put out the fire.

My moods are swinging like crazy without medication. T'is why I avoid the 'net like the plague when it happens. I can only post non-emo stuff properly when I'm manic, in any case. However, right now, it's that "limbo" point between the highs and the lows. You know, blah.

I'd like to say, for the record, that if the news about John Lennon and his SUPAH SEKRIT SKOOLGURL CRUSH on Paul McCartney is true please oh please oh please be true, I won't find it a bit surprising (for reasons Dad told me). Hell, I find it mildly depressing somewhat if you take into consideration that -- let's just muse for a minute here; not saying that anything outside of the "crush" happened -- if those two did actually partake in any kind of relationship with each other, it would have to be a secret because sodomy was quite against the law then. prudes Can you imagine having to keep your love under wraps? I sure as hell can, as I've done it before. It's difficult to keep your feelings to yourself. Very difficult. Something always slips through.

I have so many things I should be doing, but what the hell.

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1.) I need to stop dreaming about being a Beatles groupie in the '60s. While the threesomes with John and Paul are quite wonderful, it's starting to affect my daily living when I see photos of the band, and I start feeling really warm and gooey inside; at my age, I'm not sure if this is just the remainders of crushes I had when I was little or if it's a precursor to menopause.

2.) Also, so we were visiting family over the weekend (fun fun FUN conversations with my dad about the likelihood of Paul and John being SUPAH SEKRIT LOVAHZ; he thought they might be too, given the era), and this song pops up on Sirius Alternative Nation by a band called The Wombats. Good God, I am in love with it after I hear it a few times (because you know radio -- songs get repeated every few hours), and it comes as no surprise really when I discover that the band is from Liverpool with the whole lot of them coming from Paul's Institute for the Arts school. Listening to the album, you can easily point out different influences. Yay for Joy Division reference, too.

3.) And so, something a tad creepy happens (as it always does with me). I'm going through various old stories and run across one about some John Lennon lookalike kid in Liverpool finding out he really is the reincarnation of John. The kid's name is Marcus, he plays and sings like John, and he can't quite figure out why he adores Paul so much even though he isn't that big of a Beatles fan. Great story, but in any case, I come across a picture of the Wombat band members and am kind of shocked to see how much one of them looks like John. So he's a drummer, but the kicker is that the guy's middle name is Marcus. Jesus Christ. And that is enough creepiness for me today.

4.) The kids went back to school yesterday, so I finally have some time to sit and type again. I'm busy trying to remember what I'd written, and so far, I've gotten down most of what I'd had (with a few revisions, of course) for the next chapter of SWOE.

5.) I know it's a few days late now, but I never got a chance to say it yet -- Happy Birthday, Blondie!

6.) Kagome's first name probably should have been Helga instead. While she may be sweet and thoughtful (sometimes) like her anime counterpart, she spends more time acting like, well, you know. Her favorite thing at the moment is the word hell as in, "What the hell, Mom?" or "What the hell are you doing, guys?" Seriously, I hear this every day. That, and she called one of the parakeets "Fuckface" yesterday (hey now, I didn't teach her that one). Very clever independent little cuss for only four.

7.) I wish we could get insurance here. I'm kind of weak and tired all of the time right now, but I can't do a damn thing about it. Just have to work through it.

8.) I also found out over the weekend that my asshole uncle has taken over everything to do with my grandpa. He won't let the doctors tell my grandpa that he's going to die soon, and he also won't let anyone tell Grandpa that his house has been sold. Fucking dammit. Stupid fat bastard.

So I ran out of time whilst discussing the "What Happened To Me This Year" neo-modern dramedy. Thus, this is part two of the whole mess.

Some time back in February (or January; can't quite remember now), my grandma broke her hip. Well, this started a shitload of stress for Mom. Up until the accident, Grandma had been caring for Grandpa (who's been on oxygen support for quite a while now) with help every now and then from the family. After the accident, Mom, my aunts, and my selfish bastard of an uncle were at odds with one another trying to figure out who would care for their parents. They couldn't really afford a nurse, but the only one without a job who could move in to help out was my uncle, and it was "too much work for him". So Mom and her sisters put them in a nursing home, and each one helped to pay for their care. This has caused bad blood between Mom and Luscill, but actually, this should have happened years before now because he's always being a nasty fuck. Hell, the fat bastard even molested his sisters when they were all little, and it was swept under the rug because he was my grandparents "precious sonny boy". Meh.

Being the oldest, Mom had to deal with talks of selling their childhood home, wills, and whatnot. She'd been happy when the talks ceased, and she thought they were getting better (they even returned home). However, this was short-lived because it was evident that Grandma could no longer care for Grandpa, and her health was getting worse. So back to Manderley they went.

The end of May comes along, and after going quite a while without checking my email, something in my head clicked, and I was struck with the determination to sit down and log on. Good thing I did because I noticed a very recent email from Dad talking about Grandma being in Christ Hospital down in Cincinnati.

My mistake, here. I'd been meaning to give Dad my phone number when we moved, but I kept getting too busy to do so (with the kids' schools still in session at the time), so the only way he could get in touch with me was via email. Really though, it's not as if I could have gotten down there in time to see her, and with the way Mom's family works, I doubt I would have been allowed in, so sitting around waiting for her to die was pointless. To me, anyway. What could I have changed?

In any case, her death got me speaking with one of my older brothers again. Phil wasn't too pleased with the way things went. Mom was too distraught (or something) to place phone calls to us, her own kids (although she was able to call others in the family -- family with looser ties than us), so Aunt Dana was put to the task (my phone call came from Dad, who wasn't fond of his former mother-in-law anyway). Phil and I were left out of things, and as for Jim...dammit, I can't really remember clearly, but I think he was at work while all of this was going on.

The wonderful thing is that when Grandma broke her hip, apparently, the small shitacular hospital she went to didn't bother to check thoroughly, and all of those months before she died, she had internal injuries from the fall. Great.

Went to her visitation down in Osgood. I hadn't been through that town in nearly 6 years. Some things have changed, a lot hasn't (such as the locals crashing family events if they think they can score something for free). I saw people at that funeral...I have no fucking clue as to whom they are. Sadly, it seems that these events are the only damn time I get to see my great-aunt Esther (Dad's aunt) with whom I am the closest in either family (odd fact: she's my dad's aunt, and she dates my mom's uncle Earl). Of course, Jim was the last to show up (having to come from Bloomington and work) with his family, and as always, he is the epitome of perfection and propriety while Phil and I seem to be looked upon as immature losers. Phil was dressed casually, I opted for something black and not-so-warm on a hot day, and Jim looked like he was going to officiate the fucking funeral in that suit of his (even his wife was dressed casually, Christ). And to conclude the entertaining evening, I watched as Jim seemed to be throwing a "Who's Got The Bigger Dick" contest with Phil concerning the intelligence of their children. I guess I'm the only one with average (or less than average) kids. Hooray.

I was going to go to the funeral the following morning, but Devin's bus was very late, and there was no way we could get down to Osgood before 10am (everything would be over). Eh, Phil didn't stick around for the get-together afterward, and it's not as if I felt like hanging around Jim, "Mr. Seriousness". My IQ drops 100 points whenever I'm in his presence.

Mom sold her childhood home recently, so no more huge family holidays in that cramped house. I wonder what we'll do now?

In the midst of all of this, Grandpa tripped over his oxygen cord in the nursing home while trying to help a friend, and he hurt his hip, too. Unfortunately, the doctors discovered that his cancer is back, and he doesn't have very long either. Two grandparents gone in the span of a few months. No more grandparents for me (I never really knew Dad's parents as they died when I was little).

Won't be much longer, and my brothers and I will be doing this shit for our own parents. Jesus. Do they also get up in the morning, look at themselves in the mirror, and wonder, "When did I get so old?"

Most of my peers (like Jeremy) have parents who just turned 50 (or are approaching 50), so they don't have these concerns yet. This is what happens when everyone is so much older than you. I really am the baby of the goddamn family.

This has been a ridiculous year, honestly. I just finally started feeling a little better, having figured out a few of my health problems (and even some mental/emotional ones), and -- here's the part where I SWEAR that a fucking black cloud follows me wherever I go -- then life goes to hell again. First, Jeremy starts slipping into a diabetic coma after a few months of feeling like shit; he could have died (his sugar levels were off the charts to the point that they were unreadable, according to the physicians, and they had no idea how he was still walking). Then we moved back to the state that I hate most in the US -- Indiana. With all of our past issues with my mother-in-law, Jeremy still wanted to help her out as she's been living in Greensburg, and the house was just sitting there empty with it about to be foreclosed...so we moved back into the house. At least it's just us this time around. The bathroom sink doesn't work, the toilet works only half of the time, and the floor always feels like it's going to cave in, but the payments are cheaper, so what the hell. Cheaper is what matters in these wonderful times. Jesus, Obama can't get into the White House quickly enough for me.

It's the same old neighbors (mostly) as before, but this time, I'm getting to know them (some I don't wish to). Our neighbor to the right is a prick who thinks that everyone must accommodate him (so I've been told from other neighbors), the neighbor to the left is brand new, the neighbor directly across from us is remodeling their house and tearing the fuck out of our yard and peace to do so, and the neighbor diagonal from us is a she-male who's OK unless you get her drunk, and then she's a psychotic dick. She wants me to write a trilogy detailing her birth as a whole new person and the life she's lead. I've got enough to do as it is.

MY GODDAMN COMPUTER CRASHED WHEN WE MOVED HERE. I can't remember what caused it now (the sound card or video card...can't remember), but I lost everything. My novel, short stories, and new chapters went bye-bye when Jeremy reinstalled Winshit, and I was just so thoroughly pissed that I forgot to see if we could pull them from the hard drive before reinstalling. The whole situation turned me off writing, as can plainly be seen. Actually, today's the first day since the mess back in March where I've felt calm enough to write anything, so I'll eventually start typing up stuff from memory. Slow agonizing process, that.

I hate Indiana with a passion, and when I live here, I am reminded bitterly of why that is. This state is so ass-backwards and behind the times in everything, it isn't funny. Everyone is a prejudice cunt who cares only for what can be done for them. Yes, I do realize that it's basic instinct to worry over one's self uberalle (I can't be arsed to remember the code for umlauts right now), but I've worked really, really hard this year to "do the right thing and help others," and Indiana's collective attitude is reminding me why I've always felt that it's a waste of precious time. I get sick of the racist and homophobic shit, and while every place in the US has its share of ignorant jackasses, I swear that it's at its worst here. After all, this is the birthplace of the modern (20th century) KKK.

It's a struggle, really. You have queers (this would be anyone and everyone who falls into this label -- the "non-vanilla" people out there, like myself) who are beaten for just trying to love and live (like my brother-in-law just the other day), and then you have queers who make it their soul existence to live the stereotypes just for the shockhorror value. Switch "queer" with any other cause (ie. "black," "latino," "women's rights," etc.), and it's the same thing again. This state, if not mankind, is a good example of why we will never live together without some sort of ongoing drama.

Eh, sorry. We have no insurance in this state (the only state where it's difficult to get insurance), and I'm without my medication -- another reason why I feel so blah. I go back and forth from feeling on top of the world to feeling like I twisting on a stake in hell. I'm also panicky lately because of no anti-anxiety meds. Sometimes, it's as if I'm having a heart attack. I can't breathe, my arm tingles, and my chest hurts. Damn anxiety.

Hope everyone is doing OK. I don't have a lot of time to myself while the kids are out of school, but I try to keep up on how everyone is even if I can't comment.

Oh, if you heard about the tornadoes that struck Indianapolis at the end of May/beginning of June...yeah, we were in the middle of that. Scary shit.

Got to go for now. Have more work to do.