Monday, October 31, 2011


Hey! So, I'm doing the NaNoWriMo challenge for November, which means starting tonight at midnight I'm going to start trying to write a novel. If you wanna join me, just go here. Now, as to what's important about that, it means I won't be telling any stories about things that previously happened in the past for a full month. I'm pretty sure the Terror is still gonna be a terror for a month, and the Hedgehog will stay an adorable eejit, and I'm pretty sure things will strike me as cute or make me laugh or cry or get mad, and I might write those down and save them or post them up, but don't be expecting anything, okay?

That doesn't mean I'm dead or dying and disappearing. I'll definitely be posting for the Hedgehog and mine's one year anniversary, but aside from that... you can expect me back in December!

Oh, and technorati: 4R93DM787SBF

Zombies Will Fall From the Sky

A few years back on Halloween, me and my friends got together to celebrate. It was recent, but I'd gotten into Wicca like my friend Jess had a couple years before, though I'd been researching it for far longer than I'd been interested in joining it, and we'd decided we would have the best Samhain ever.

Since my dad could care less if we ran around the woods at night or slept in the back yard, so long as we had a nice warm bonfire, everyone came over to my house, and we kicked off the night by walking around the neighborhood talking. It was fun to get everyone in the mood for a scary night, me and Jess telling stories about some of the crazy and scary things we'd seen in the neighborhood. Like that time we were swimming alone and saw a faceless woman in her backyard swimming pool. Or that time I'd seen some pale, dark haired, woman run down the driveway seconds before Jess left her house.

By the time we'd gotten to the edge of the woods we'd sufficiently freaked everyone out, everyone out but ourselves, there is. For some reason when someone first becomes Wiccan, they're overwhelmed with the strange sensation that scary stuff just can't touch them anymore, because now they're part of the things that scare normal people. At least, that explained Jess not being afraid. I'd been seeing freaky stuff my whole life, it was just an accepted part of my day if something weird happened. I wasn't afraid because I told myself that it those things wanted to hurt me, they could've done it a billion times over already.

Hunny, however, was terrified beyond all belief. She stood there, trembling, on the verge of tears, begging not to go in. So I stood up and offered her my protection, even at a time before the adorable kid had become my precious little sister. I gave her a flower from a tree to hang on to that I remember meaning protection in one of the spells I'd recently looked at, then I grasped her hand and held it tight and we started off on our walk.

It was dark in the woods, and the red clay was slightly damp from raining a couple days before, and we had to walk around large mud puddles a couple of times. It was a good place to be quiet and let the other's get freaked out even more. I remember thinking it was funny, not because they were scared, but because Jess wasn't. She was normally, for lack of a better term, a bit of a scardy cat about these things.

After walking a good way into the woods, I thought I saw something move off ahead, a bit off the path, but before I could mention it to Jess, I caught her looking at me with a bit of worry. Subtly we shifted closer and I jerked my head at it and she nodded, frowning. So, we both saw it... it wasn't an illusion...

On the outside we kept laughing and talking, stopping to show the group a small shrine I'd set up to the spirits of the area. We all stopped and said little prayers for the spirits, but I kept my eye down the path... I saw it move, shift... It was a weird shape, kind of like a weird tiger person, if I had to describe it simply. It was crouched down and looked like it might be a kind of leaf orange in the daylight, with these shadow stripes, but there were clearly these... big beefy arms and the shape was like a man hunched down, arms in front for balance. It was creepy, but whatever it was, it wasn't messing with us, but it was watching.

Gulping down my fear and doubt, I tucked away my adrenaline rush and reminded myself that if it wanted to hurt me, it could've done so already. Instead I moved up to Jess and whispered to her, both of us confirming that we were seeing the same thing; she looked over her shoulder to glace at it, and I saw her face pale. "It's moving closer..." She murmured softly, and my stomach felt chilly. I looked back quickly as well, and I saw that it had indeed crept closer, and even as I watched I saw the back legs shift forward and more weight get placed on one of the arms. No trick of the light then, it couldn't be... I saw the head tilt, felt the eyes make contact, and I looked ahead quickly.

"That's pretty much all of it," I said, hiding my fear. "We should be getting back for dinner." I announced, in an effort to get us all to leave slowly but quickly, and without giving it away. After all, they'd all met my dad's Girl-fiend, they'd know it would be a bad idea to make her start yelling at us because we missed dinner.

Relaxed now and laughing, the rest of the group began to file away, but Hunny stuck close to me, still scared, and held my hand, while Jess hang back with me. I tried to hide it, but I could see that Hunny noticed something was wrong. "What is it?" She asked, and nonchalantly and quietly, I reassured her it was nothing, just one of those things we saw all the time; but when I looked at Jess she nodded at me, face grim. Still following us then... I couldn't resist, I looked over my shoulder.

It was now on the path, closer than before, but still far enough back it was only a strange shape just where the path curved out of sight.

I shivered and looked ahead, and tried to keep the group from noticing. We would be fine, we just had to get out of there. We kept up the ruse for a good while, looking back to see it staying just at the edge where the path would curve out of sight around a bind, but after a while we looked back and it just wasn't there... I didn't feel relieved, though. I was still wary...

We made it out of the woods pretty safely and then went home and ate dinner, made by my dad's Girl-Fiend, and then we went out back to clear out a place to set up the tent in the little grove of trees in my back yard. We set up a fire and laid down every blanket and pillow that could be spared in the house, referred to as a pallet of doom, and then we set around so that Emmers and Jess could use their tarot cards to predict things or tell about past lives.

I remember being stupid and saying something to Emmers as a reply when she said that something always went wrong with her readings. I told her that made she and Jess could read the same thing and we'd compare, and she got really mad at me, "So Jess is right and I'm wrong?" I tried to explain I only meant that if she did read things funny sometimes, maybe if they predicted the same thing we could see the differences, but it didn't help...

After a while, Jess pulled out her ouji board and we started to play with that. It went alright for awhile, it was answering questions fine, but when someone asked me to ask who'd I'd one day marry, things got a little weird... It spelled out letters just fine, but it went to a G, and then a B, and then a Q... and then an I and an H... It just wasn't a name. For a few minutes we kept trying, but it just kept giving garbled and non-sensical answers.

Finally, frustrated, Hunny demanded to know, "So are zombies going to fall from the sky or something?" She wasn't even touching the planchette anymore, but me, Jess, and Emmers were. I felt my hand get dragged, it was the most forcefull it had moved all night, and I saw Jess let go of it in shock and Emmers eyes bug out.

The planchette pulled our hands to "yes".

Saturday, October 29, 2011

I Obviously Have Anger Problems.

 Something strange and inevitable happens every time the Hedgehog leaves me for an extended amount of time. AKA: any time longer than work hours, provided that during that time I haven't had anything to keep my mind occupied from how bored and lonely and fubbing hungry I am!
Pictured here: boredom.
It's still cold in the apartment, the neighbors are assholes who yell all day, I barely got any sleep at all because I can't sleep without my eejit, and we haven't gone grocery shopping so I've been saving the food until he gets home so we can both eat dinner. Except, we won't both eat dinner, because he's been out with his family all day, and he's probably already eaten... except if I eat the food then he'll probably come home and wonder where it is...
Oh, gods! What do I do?!
It's stupid and silly, and I don't know why it happens, but I always wind up angry at him the day the Hedgehog is set to come home. Something inside me gets all tense and upset, and nothing I can do will make it stop. Why am I so mad? I have no idea. But I know when he comes through that door I'll be tense and snappy and uppity with him, and he'll want to know what's wrong with me.
And you know what? I won't know. I've spent most of the day sitting around being bored or playing on the internet, trying to keep busy and distracted, with only his return to look forward to... but the longer I wait the less excited I feel and the more angry I get. I don't know why, it just happens. If I could explain it then maybe it wouldn't bother me so much...
... He has no idea that I'm trying to ignore him...
Instead of being happy I'll just get short with him, and instead of snuggling up to him, I'll roll away and be angry silently while he lays there and plays his dammed video games.... but you know what? I'll sleep peacefully.

The Halloween Cat

I love Halloween, but I doubt that I'll ever be able to spend another one without remembering what happened. In my mind, I'll forever remember Halloween as the anniversary of "the Cat Incident".

It was about this time last year that I was living in an orphanage, obviously I would've been over the age of 18, but a year before just before I moved in they'd started a new program where they "trained" you to be an adult between the ages of 18 and 21 if you had no where else to go. Well, being homeless and basically an orphan anyway, this sounded pretty good to me.

Now, it was a Christian orphanage, a Pentecostal one to be exact, and as such we weren't allowed to do anything for Halloween. It was "evil", so instead we were supposed to celebrate the harvest festival... which is funny in a sarcastic and hypocritical way, because that's exactly what most of the pagans were celebrating before their festival became Halloween... Basically, we weren't allowed to go to haunted houses or watch scary movies... they should've thought that one through better, because they put us nearly grown girls in a house all to ourselves with no adult supervision, you know... other than breathing down our necks every single day and using it for free labor, but I digress... We were alone at night, and that is when this incident happened.
Nikki and Nicole, respectively.
Well, I lived with two other girls that Halloween, Nikki and Nicole, and since we got a $5 a month allowance (which wasn't even an allowance, it was donated by a very nice lady) Nicole and I decided we would walk up the road to where there was a Halloween haunted trail.
Normally, this is what I look like when scary things happen.
Though terrified of the unknown, I laugh at monsters.  Who knew?
So we waited til after midnight and we bundled up nice and warm and Nicole and I left the Home and started walking out along the road. We laughed and talked, because at the time we were pretty good friends, though when I was kicked out earlier this year she started treating me like a pariah. Well, on the way over a bridge while we were laughing, there was a sudden sound. A sudden, unmistakable, sound, coming from the edge of the woods across the road on the other side of the bridge where there was a small dirt half circle that cars used to turn around.

It was the sound of a kitten crying out for help.

I didn't think, didn't look for cars coming (fortunately there were none), I just took off running towards the sound. It could've been anything, halfway over I even toyed with the idea it was a rapist trying to lure us over there, or it was those people we'd heard about on the news recently, the ones who'd leave car-seats with baby dolls in them on the side of the road and kill and car jack the people who stopped. I didn't stop, though, and I wasn't the only one: Nicole was right there beside me.
I got there first though, and bent down, making soothing noises and reaching into the bushes, praying silently that the cat would understand I was there to help. I felt something warm and furry bump my hand, so I reached down to where I felt the neck was, grasped the ruff of fur on the nape, and pulled the kitten out.
I was surprised to find that, while still a kitten, the cat was older than expected.

Nicole and I cooed over the kitty and held and petted it, wrapped up tightly in our jackets to stay warm, though we both knew the Home had a strict no pets policy. It was okay, though, because we were going to find this kitten some help.
Well, we were right there at the Haunted Trail, so we walked up there and talked to the people to see if they could hold onto the kitten for us, explaining we had just found it abandoned and crying. They agreed and even docked the price of admission for us, and we went on the trail... and ran for our lives because of chainsaw killers on the loose.
I "died" so many times.
When we got back it was to discover that the nice people had found out something awful about the kitten: both of her back legs were broken. Heartbroken we held the kitten and cuddled and petted her, swearing to call every vet in North Carolina when we got back to the Home. The nice people who ran the Haunted Trail even offered us a ride back up there, even though it was less than a mile. Well, it was cold out and we didn't want cars to scare the kitty, so we took them up on the offer.

After reaching the home, knowing no one "in charge" was awake, we decided to ask one the house parents if it would be okay to hold  on to  the kitty for just one night, because, after all, we would definitely find the kitty somewhere to go in the morning. One of the nicest house mothers in the place was where we went on Nicole's prompting, waking her up and showing her the cat, explaining what had happened. We could tell she was heartbroken, too. She also knew it was strictly against the rules, but she cracked and gave in and said that surely for just a night it would be okay.
So we crossed the driveway and went into our house and put the kitten on the floor and gave her some tuna and some water, and petted and loved on her, while I tried to find a vet that took emergency calls in the middle of the night. Obviously there were none, so frustrated we decided to go to bed...

That's when we discovered another heartbreaking thing: the kitten refused to stay still and sleep where we left her, she wanted to follow us, and she tried the best she could, hobbling after, mewling pathetically, dragging her legs.It hurt so much to lock her in the bathroom that night, but we figured it was the only way to get her to not hurt herself anymore.

The next morning I sat down with the phone book and the kitten and tried calling vets offices again, but no one would take her. I tried the Animal Shelter, and found out from them, blatantly stated, that "When we pick up cats we put them down right away." So I hung up on them and turned to Nicole. What would we do? Well, she suggested seeing if someone in the office could clear the cat staying on campus with the other mouser we had out by the barn. That is when all hell broke loose.  

(Pictures omitted because they're too damn sad.)

All night long we'd met nothing but nice, kind, people, and for doing such, the world was going to show us it's other side: using everything short of curse words, the lady in charge of our Independent Living program yelled and screamed us, even when we tried to explain. Using her infamous "no excuses" line, she told us we had to get rid of that cat right then and there, and she told us specifically to call the Animal Shelter.

I wasn't doing it, oh hell no. I knew what would happen to that kitten, so I tried calling places that took in abandoned cats... and that's when I got told something so heartbreaking and horrible I can still remember it. "There are a million abandoned cats in North Carolina and no one who wants them. We routinely have to put down healthy kittens because we don't have room. We can't take in a sick cat, we need that money to take care of the ones we have. Just think of it this way: if you hadn't found the cat she would've starved to death on the side of the road. At least now it will be quick and painless."

We were running out of time, we'd only been given an hour to get rid of the cat, and I'd just heard something so terrible and heartbreaking that I couldn't handle it anymore. So, crying and sobbing, I called the Animal Shelter back and told them our address, and I sat there, crying, holding the cat, until they came.

When I opened the door, it's like she knew what was happening. The man held out a cage for me to put her into,  and she clung to me with her claws, fur puffed up, looking panicked and struggling to escape, and I lowered her into it. I was sobbing, horribly, and one of the house parents, my old house parent, was standing on the porch with the man, staring.

I went back inside, closed the door, and tried not to feel so awful about myself.
Yes, our door was eggplant color, and no, I still felt horrible.

And I wish that's where this story ended, but it isn't. Because the lady in charge of our program showed up later to yell and scream at all three of us, even though Nikki tried to explain she'd been in bed asleep and hadn't known until she'd come into the kitchen that morning. The woman demanded to know, "Are you so stupid you don't know what goes on in your own home?!"
Nikki has the world's best poker face.
I held my tongue and cried, but that still wasn't the end of it. The next morning one of the men in charge of the whole orphanage came by to yell at us, and he said some things I just couldn't ignore. While he was demanding to know if we understood what we did was wrong, I couldn't hold my anger in any longer.

"It was against the rules, but we did the right thing." Was what I told him, and for the trouble of speaking up he yelled at me and demanded to know if I was looking to get kicked out. The Home routinely kicked us out if we didn't hold up their rules and regulations, even if they knew we had no where to go, and I had less places to go than most... but I couldn't help my anger, and my mouth moved on it's own when he kept yelling at us about how wrong we were. "I thought this was a Christian facility."

I thought he was going to explode when I said that. He certainly looked that way. He yelled louder and even told me I should've left the cat on the side of the road to die, and then threatened to kick me out once more if I didn't watch my mouth.

"And if you see me on the side of the road with a sign that says 'Hungry, please help', will you just keep on driving?"

It took them a few more months to find enough reasons, but when they finally kicked me out, they brought incident back up as a reason why I didn't follow the rules and had to be kicked out. I looked up, through my tears at loosing the only place I had to live, and said exactly how I felt, "I wasn't wrong. It may have been against the rules, but I wasn't wrong. I'd do it again. No one should be heartless enough to say they could've left that cat to die."


I was so busy posting other things I forgot to say the most important thing!
This is obviously not that fox.
The other day me and the Hedgehog saw a fox on the way back from Wal-Mart when I got new shoes with my pay!

Adventures in Shopping

Getting groceries is always an ordeal for the Hedgehog and I. It begins with a series of very important questions:

Do we have the money?
Do we need something else more?
Can we make it a couple more days?
When do we both have the same day off?
What's the weather like outside?
Do we have the time?

And it's all because we don't have a car. Not that it would matter much since I never learned to drive. When your dad installs carpet for a living and his hours range anywhere from 6am to 2am, and your school has a driver's ed program that kicks you out of it if you miss a single day, there is simply no compromise.

Wal-mart is an hour's walk away from the apartment, and thanks to the Hedgehog's hours, he being practically the only one who closes the store, Wal-mart is our only real option... which limits our options on groceries.

We can't get anything breakable,  or crushable, or smashable. We can't get anything too heavy. We can't get anything frozen, or that needs to be kept refrigerated. We're limited only to what we can carry. Sure, there for a while we had the time in the day to go to a closer place, back before the Hedgehog learned to close the store, and there's always this one convenience store to get milk, eggs, and bread at; but who knows when either of us will have the time and money to go there?

And sometimes we put it off for so long that we need a lot of groceries, and of course we can't carry them all back... which is what prompted us one night to steal a buggy.

The idea was brewing in our minds when we entered Wal-mart that evening, as we loaded up the buggy with the things we needed. Almost all of it was frozen. That was how we both knew that the other knew we were walking away with that buggy. Piled on top of itself, the frozen food would keep itself cold, and it was near freezing outside, anyway.

The more food we got, the more determined I got. There was no way we were going to be able to carry it all, even though I'd brought a huge bag to carry it back in on our backs. When the cashier rang us up, I bit my lip and steeled my resolve. I was going to be walking home with a buggy full of food at 2am, and there was nothing anyone could do about it.

When we walked out, I couldn't help but inform the Hedgehog, "I'm leaving with the buggy."
Out of my peripheral, I felt him look at me. "Ok." was his reply, but I kept talking, "I'm leaving with this buggy, I'm walking away." He motioned to a car on the far end of the parking  lot, in the darkness, a car that always sat there. "Just walk to the car." I nodded quickly, "Right, because they won't know that's not our car."

And when we finally left the parking lot, it seemed to hit the Hedgehog what we had done, and he was a small child. "Can I ride on the back of it!?"

And he did.

I Have Abandonment Issues

Right now I'm sitting in the bathroom of my apartment, wrapped up like a burrito in a blanket to preserve what little warmth I have left, shivering in front of my laptop, writing this post simply because I have nothing better to do and there's no way I can sleep tonight.

I'm in the bathroom because it's the best place to get internet access in the apartment, I'm a burrito because it's cold as ice in here, it's cold in here because the window is cracked so the wi-fi cord can be dangled out of it to get better internet. I'm doing this instead of sleeping because I can't sleep at night when the Hedgehog is away from home.

I should be used to it, he leaves once a month for drills because he's in the military, so I for nearly six months I've spent a weekend alone every month, yet every time I find that the apartment is suddenly strange and I can't sleep. I turn on all the lights and normally just sit on the bed, watching television or reading until the sun goes up and I can at last curl up into a ball and sleep in the safety of the morning sunlight.

Well, tonight he's staying over at his mom's 'cause he's hanging out with his little sister tomorrow.

Logically I know that there's nothing wrong with that, but I can't help but feel... abandoned. It's a feeling I can't put a name to, really. I don't know where it's coming from, or why I'm feeling it, but... I'm lonely and alone and I can't help but to remember... Awful things.
I remember being little and having my aunt tell me no one would love me, that they couldn't stand to be around me, that they would do anything they could to get away from me. In a weird way my dad confirmed it. All the times I ran away and he knew where I was but never came to tell me to come back home, because "it wouldn't change your mind". Yeah, well, that's not the point, dad, the point is that you care enough to try... They're horrible memories, and I feel awful remembering them, imparting their sadness to other people, but...

I sit here in the bathroom,  wrapped up as a burrito, lonely, feeling, for inexplicable reasons, abandoned and unwanted... How can I feel this way over nothing? He's just hanging with his sister, I know that, and I hate feeling like I'm being clingy, 'cause I'm scared of pushing him away. It's just so silly! Knowing that sometime tomorrow my Hedgehog will come home to me and I was feeling this way for nothing. I was just being stupid and petty and selfish.

On the bright side, at least I have a blog now to keep me busy.

Friday, October 28, 2011

All You Need to Know About Kit

I decided it would be awesome if, for my 15th post, I told everybody about me!

Hi, everybody!
 My name is Kit, not really, but it is.

This is me when I was little! I had blonde, straight, hair back then!
Wasn't I cute?

If you really want this explained, go here.
I live in a hospital with Ceiling Cat.
He protects me while I sleep!
 Oh, also who lives there is my super awesome boyfriend, the Hedgehog.

I don't really have a job yet, but for now I have been charged with watching the Terror until she enters kindergarten.
Pictured here: pure chaos
 And I'm easily terrified of unknown situations!

And I have three super awesome not-quite really little sisters!

This is Hunny.
This is Jess.
And this is Lulu.
So yeah, that's basically all you need to know.

Aren't I awesome?
Oh, yeah! And I'm supposed to encourage you to comment, subscribe, link this blog, send it to your friends... If you do all that, you can help me earn a little bit of self-esteem just by making you laugh or brightening your day while I vent my spleen a little and share things that make me smile, laugh, cry, and scream. And how awesome it to do something that makes you happy and get rewarded for it?

Edit: Technorati... 4R93DM787SBF

My Entire Life is Irony

My previous post has become extremely ironic to me, and yes, I do mean ironic as in actual irony and not ironic as in something that’s sort of funny in a way that situations would be funny if they could be sarcastic.

See, I had this horrible migraine that developed  whilst I was posting my previous post (which was shortly after reading Allie‘s post over on Hyperbole  and a Half… I  think I felt so bad for her I felt bad… Also, this is a shameless plug for someone awesome who gave me the courage to make a blog), and I felt bad enough that I crawled into bed, pulled the covers up over my head, and laid there, wishing I could die because I was sure death felt better than feeling like you’d puke every time you breathed. Well, while laying there, the Hedgehog called because he was on his way home, and I told him breathing made me feel like I might puke and talking made it worse. How talking made the feeling worse,  I don’t know, but it felt like every time my mouth opened I was gonna spew all over the phone, so I begged him  to  let me go. He agreed, but only if I would tell his older sister, mother of Spawn and Terror, that I felt bad just in case I still felt bad in the morning.

So I sent her this text, because talking made me wanna puke: Hedgehog wanted me to tell you I have a migraine and feel awful just in case I still feel awful in the morning.

See, she’d already sent me a message saying she’d be by at 9:15 am, and I’d told her alright. I wasn’t even going to tell her I felt sick, because,  hey? What’s the point when I should feel fine in the morning? I’m not the kind of person who lets others know when I don’t feel good. I was raised to suffer through it. Well… this is how I meant it:

“I don’t think this is important, but the Hedgehog thought I should let you know, just in case when you pick me up in the morning I’m acting kind of funny. I have a migraine.”

This is how she took it:

“Hey, I feel sick so I’m not coming in. Good luck finding someone else who only works for $8.50 a day.”

This is why I put pictures in my posts, so that you guys know that, even though sometimes my words sound cruel, I don’t mean anything bad about it. Sure, I sometimes wish there was a law about allowing me to punt other people’s kids,  but I happen to love the  little Terror… she is often times not the kid I want to punt, that is that kid in Wal-mart who’s screaming at the top of their lungs about not getting candy and the parents are trying to reason with it…  Do not reason with a child who acts like that, punish them,  they will learn that behavior won’t get them anywhere. I did,  so will they.

Instead of texting me back asking if I was still coming or not, she assumed the worst… which is also hypocritical of her because this one time she pitched a fit and called and bugged the Hedgehog and her mother complaining I was ignoring her because she texted me saying she would pay me on Monday and I didn’t text back an OK.

So, guess what? She did the same thing as in the previous situation, and when the Hedgehog got home, he made me feel like I was a naughty child. Not only had his older sister thought I was trying to weasel my way out of work, but his mom had decided to vent her spleen at him about me after hearing what had happened from her daughter… and here is where the irony of my previous post comes in.

She complains about me because the apartment isn’t clean.

See, in the previous post I explained that I feel like a useless, horrible, failure and a burden because I don’t keep the apartment clean, this is how I feel, yes, and while I suspect that people might believe it, I don’t really believe it’s true… yet it is, so that’s irony. The outcome I wasn’t expecting happened.

Another bit of irony comes from the fact that Hedgehog’s mom also thinks I don’t like her because I don’t talk to her… I don’t talk to her because I’m afraid I’ll say something stupid and make her not like me…

Also, there was a complaint that I don't spend enough time with the Terror, which occured because after the Spawn left and she was being bad I refused to play with her in an effort to  punish her for being bad (also might be because she was trying to get  me to pick one of her tiny pet toys and I wouldn't because I didn't want to play tiny pets any more) and she told her mom that it made her sad. (Which broke my heart hearing from the Hedgehog) So they blamed it on the internet and instead of talking to me like the adult that I am,  they disconnected the internet like I was a naughty twelve year old...  which made me feel the same way I did back when my dad realized I'd grown too big for spankings and that was the only way to have any effect on me 'cause I had too many things in my room to occupy me if he used that  as a  punishment... (Luckily the Terror made me feel awesome today, so...)

...My entire life is irony… I feel horrible… I can’t even think of  pictures to  make this situation seem better…

Cute Things of the Day

Today the Terror said two really cute things I wanted to share.

"Is he the leader of the world?"
She said that while we were watching cartoons... It was adorable... I sat there thinking, "Well, if they have their way, he will be..."

"Kit, you're smarter than mommy."
While I don't really agree, that made me blush and took me back a little. And to believe, it was all because I told her the shows they were previewing were coming up next and not tomorrow, which is apparently what her mom tells her...

... and completely explains why sometimes the Terror demands to know why something is coming on tomorrow and not now when the tv says it's coming up next...

Thursday, October 27, 2011

I Will Never Be a Housewife (Or an adult)

For a full year I lived at a place called the Church of God Children’s Home. It was one of the worst experiences I’ve ever had in my entire life. It was literally an orphanage run by Holy Rollers (not exaggerating, in the church they forced me to go I experienced these things: )

Because apparently only possessed people  cry in church...
... I really wish this wasn't an exact quote...
Anyway, at this orphanage they tried to force me to be an adult. It wasn’t so bad, the place was so clean all I had to do was wash my clothes once a week, on my designated washing day, wash my own dishes, sweep my floor, keep my things put up, and make my bed.

That wasn’t so hard, really. Maintaining something  is easy when you yourself never make much of a mess, of course… The Home treated it all like a life or death situation…
"But I was running late for school..."
"I just finished eating..."
"You tracked it in..."
My everyday was like this. It was pretty horrible. I was expected to be perfect at every single thing I did and if I showed weakness for even a second then it was dragged in front of me and everyone else so they could see it too. Eventually they kicked me out for, and I quote, “being immature, unreliable, untidy, a slacker, unmotivated, you never take responsibility for your actions, failure to comply or conform…”  They even tried to call me out on the incident with the Halloween Cat

Despite all of that,  however, I felt like I knew how to survive on my own. After all, they had nitpicked at me and had only pointed out the few times I'd failed, over all I had succeed at 90% of the things they claimed I needed to know to be an adult. It was only after I moved in with the Hedgehog that I learned that, while I’m perfectly capable of keeping my room clean, that they definitely were not preparing me for the reality of being an adult living with someone.

I fail at being a housewife.

Yes, yes you do...
 I’m good at taking care of my own mess, but living at the Home had never prepared me for the fact that I would be one day living with and taking care of the messes of someone else. So the apartment tends to have clothes strewn everywhere… The worse the apartment looks the worse I feel about not having it clean, and the longer I put it off…

Sometimes I just sit there, staring, thinking… I’m a burden, a horrible horrible burden. Secretly the Hedgehog hates me. I’m useless. I have failed at being an adult, the one thing I am, he hates me… What’s wrong with me? Why can’t I do anything right? Everything I’ve ever done from the day I was born until this moment right here has all been for nothing. I’ve failed at everything I’ve ever done.
... I spend whole days without pants...
I even fail at average, normal, tasks. Every time I try to make tea I always forget the water’s on boiling and by the time I check on it, half of it has turned to steam and is floating around my kitchen, angering the moldy tile.
... It's disappointed in me, too...
 There is no such thing as laundry day. We wash the clothes twice a month when we have money for the Laundromat  downstairs, and that’s if we have the money at all. Which means we wash a ton of dirty clothes in the middle of the night randomly… and sometimes we don’t fold it. We just leave the clothes in the hamper and pull them out when we need to get dressed.
Also, our sink is the tiniest sink ever. It makes three dishes look like we haven’t washed them in two weeks. So sometimes… I look at the sink, and feel like a horrible person… I’m useless, I’m a burden… a failure… I’m dirty and disgusting and the Hedgehog hates me… I even try berating myself to make me get up and do it, but it never works.
So I put it off for a couple of days, feeling infinitely worse about myself every time I don’t wash them.
The Home was wrong about something, though. Me and the Hedgehog never make the bed, and it doesn’t make us any less adult for it…