Life's A Bitch Sometimes

And that's pretty much the one truth of the universe. Life sucks, and then one day we die, and hope the afterlife doesn't suck too. I mean, really. Wouldn't that just suck ass?

You get to heaven to find out that the rules there are nothing like you thought they would be? No happiness forever, but instead living by some crazy ancient codes of conduct that involve you being forced to do absoultely nothing, not even play, on Sunday's, and you can't eat most foods...

Or for the majority of people, you get there and find out that the Muslims or the Jews had it right and you were the one worshipping the wrong god. Or, an even bigger blow! You "wake up" on the shores of a river and don't have the money to get across, and when you finally beg your way, this guy won't let you through the gate!

The three heads of Cerberus: Serious Bidniss, Apathy, and OHHAIIDARE!

No, but seriously, this post isn't about me being all emo some more. Pfft, I'm over that shit now. I'm doing my best to be happy, fuck it all and to hell with my depression. This post is about life sucking for other people, most specifically these two.

These guys are friends of mine and the Hedgehog, they've come up in at least one post before... I'll get that picture, too. Mostly so you can see the difference between pictures and such.

See, they're engaged, and back when I first met them lived together in Charlotte going to a graphics school. They're great, absolutely great, funny and kinda awesome, and we can talk for hours about nothing. It's cool being able to be friends with another couple, and it's probably one of the benefits of having a girlfriend that the Hedgehog didn't think of...? I mean, people change when they're in relationships that last longer, and guys especially, and suddenly you can't just hang out with your single friends because you realize they're crazy as shit.

For me though, it's nice being able to be friends with someone who's friends with my Hedgehog, I get to know more about him, since he's not the kind to really talk about himself much.

Anyway, onto the sucky part. So despite being sweet and awesome, she... Wait, I really need names for them if I'm going to keep going with this... Um... Dammit.

I could call her Giggles, because she laughs easily, but that makes me feel like an idiot, and... I am not, I repeat NOT, calling him Ginger. Screw that... I normally give people nicknames I either call them in real life or that they kinda earn by being themselves. So I guess I can't name them just yet...

Anyway, they were staying with his mom down here because she got kicked out of her mom's house, and despite cooking and cleaning, his mom said she didn't do anything around the house and kicked her out. That's the short of it at least, the long involves them being held hostage for five hours while his mom demanded his fiancee's engagement ring...

So now they're both staying with us. Currently sleeping on the floor to be precise. I've been there before, so I know the blow to your pride you get... Hopefully we can get them up on their feet soon... Now to get back to looking for a job.

The Girl-Fiend

So I called my dad to talk to him and instead got the Girl-Fiend… She was nice, polite, sweet… That’s when I remembered that she’s not all bad all the time, she’s only unbearable half the time. You know, when she’s not purposely trying to get under your skin by doing things like… making two boxes of pizza rolls and forcing them on you and your friends, and then later claiming that you ate both of them without her permission and refused to share…

The Weekly Kit: Knitting Kit

I'm working on your Christmas present!

The Review

So Cathrin decided to enter a contest at a place called Author Stand; well, since it was free, I downloaded her short story and read it… It… it had potential, so I left a review. A few days later on her blog, Cathrin mentions the review I left and talks about how I hate her and go out of my way to try to hurt her; she also mentions out fight in February and talks about how I spread lies and when she told the “truth” about me I got mad. Okay, for one: I stopped when she finally told me to. And for two: her “truth” was that I was insane and my dad kicked me out.

Me? Insane? Ms. Spirit-Babies, you set the bar far too high for me to ever cross it. As for my dad kicking me out, I left because his Girl-Fiend clawed up the entire left side of my face in a fight.

Review Frustration

To be honest, frustration is an understatement. Yesterday, well this morning really, I got an e-mail sayging (saying) that my story on authorstand got a review. Naturally(,) I looked thinking it was one of you who had left the comment.(;) I was wrong. I had a very nasty comment, which I wouldn't have minded to(too) much if I didn't know who had left it. You see(,) the girl who left the comment used to be my friend, and the comment she left made me feel like she was attacking me personally(,) rather then(than) the actual story. She has had an issue with me for a while. I had never done anything to her(;) she started spreading lies about me, and when asked I said the truth about her and (no and, just comma) she got even more angry. I don't know what I did to start it(,) but now I feel like it's gone to far.

You can follow this link and scroll down the(to) the review section to see the review. You can see it with out(without) being a member(;) you only need to be a member to read, rate, and review it.

Thanks for listening
~Cathrin

 And just so you don't have to go looking for it, here's my "nasty" comment; oh, by the way, the mods of authorstand have to approve your review before it goes up. Know what that means? They wouldn't post it up if they didn't think it was a good review.

Obviously Written By A Twelve Year Old (... What? I had no other way to explain that the style was simplistic...)

 

     

This was... terrible, to be honest. It showed some potential, perhaps, if it had been written by another author. I mean, a kingdom where only women are allowed to rule and the people are apparently telepathic and can, form (from... What? I can edit myself...) what I inferred from something read, teleport anywhere in the world? Yet none of that is explored at all. In all five pages the only thing that happens is that a twelve year old boy worries he might not be able to be king. That's it. Nothing else. There are run on sentences, awkward grammar, and a complete lack of plot... If it wasn't free I'd say it's not worth it all.

Also, I'm completely confused as to what time period this takes place in. There's still a monarchy with absolute power reigning, but there's talk about American presidents?

There was a lot of hidden potential in this story, it just... it needs to have a better writer to bring it out.

Check Out This Cake!

So I've been hard at work on the Oh Bento! comic this weekend and all of today... Some funny stuff has happened, but honestly? The Hedgehog is funny so often that it's hard to pick something that he does and do a post about it... not to mention a lot of it is weird humor you just have to be there for it. Some of it is even hard to remember afterwards, no matter how hard I laughed at the time... So, instead... Here's something I worked hard on for the webcomic for you guys to enjoy.

Dynamite In A Biscuit

"French food: it's dynamite in a biscuit." -  The Blonde One

I AM HAPPY CHEESE!

The other night the Hedgehog and I were eating grapes and cheese and watching In The Name of The King... While he wasn't looking I took the tip of the knife and carved this happy face into a chunk of cheese... Then turned and shoved it in his face while yelling, "I AM HAPPY CHEESE!"

Chapter One: Positive (Part 2 of 2)

And now for the exciting conclusion of chapter one of Cathrin Kushman's "novel" In The Presence of Hope!

This is part of a "Learn By Fail" series I'll be doing once a week in which I attempt to edit and fact check her book in an effort to teach others how to write, it's also because... well, because she's insane and frustrating and I need this!

Dougal nudged me slightly and I realized that I had fallen asleep. (Nice way to timeskip... No, it's not, it just gets rid of time that could've been used on character development.) “Your mother is here”, he said to me, quietly helping me get up (Speaking to you is being quiet?) and carrying my things for me. (;) He truly was an amazing man. I looked at the car that had just pulled up, my mother jumped out as soon as she had the car in park and came over to us. (She's sure in a rush, the next scene just confirms this.)

“Rissa,” (How do you get Rissa out of the word Anarsa? I could understand Anna, or even Narsy, but Rissa?) she said and wrapped me in her arms, “how are you feeling? Better? Worse?” (Okay, just because some authors don't think you should capatilize the he or she after quotations doesn't mean you do the same thing in quotations when continuing the quote...) she asked me as she took my things from Dougal. “Thank you Doug,” she said using her personal nickname for him that both of us hated. (Both of us, who? Her and her mom? Her and Dougal? Also, with a name like Dougal I'm sure the mom isn't the only one who's ever used it. A personal nickname is something only that person calls you, like when Lulu calls me "Kitness". I sometimes joke and say "I'm the Kitness", but no one else does.) “You are such a good guy, I’m glad she’s dating you and not some jerky jock.” Well at least she was trying to give him a complement, (No comma needed.) and trying to show that it made her happy that he was looking after me. (New paragraph!) Trying was the keyword. My mother was still getting used to me being heterosexual, (Okay, if I didn't know her mom was lesbian in this story, this would confuse me. It still doesn't make sense: heterosexuality is the society norm, and just because you're raised with two homosexual or heterosexual parents doesn't mean you turn out the same way. Her mom should've been expecting it; sure her daughter would understand better than most that you don't choose love, but still...) and her discomfort around men always showed around Dougal, and any other boy I had dated. (... Her mom should've been expecting it, apparently she's been dating boys for awhile.) “Your mom is worried about you, she’s home to stay for the day(.) I’ve got to go back to work, I would stay home with you(,) but I have a horrible deadline tonight that I’m not ready for,(;) but mom will take good care of you as always.” (Okay, two uses of the word mom from the mom talking... I understand she has two moms... but this is something that needs to be fixed. Wouldn't they be confused? Why isn't one "mom" and the other "momma"? Can someone help me out here?) She said and gave me another hug and ushered me to the car. “Bye Dougal,” She said to him as she got into the car and I waved at him as my mother drove me home. (Way to rush through sentences without fleshing them out...)

“You’re sure you’re going to be okay?” my (... Should I go through and mark that all of these need to be capitalized?) mother asked after I was tucked under blankets in the living room on the couch, fretting over me,(;) I assumed this was normal as I was her only child. (Another lovely time skip!)

“She is fine, Joy, (; or .) I won’t let anything happen to her and I’ll be right here with her.” My mom said to her, well my other mother (Told you it was confusing.), (; or .) Joy was my biological mother, my other mother is Cassy. The two of them are the only parents that I had ever known, (; or .) I had not realized that people did not have two moms(,) that they had one mom and one dad(,) until I started kindergarten. I was not Cassy’s only child(;), she had a son from before she met my mom, a long while before. When Cassy was sixteen she had been raped and had gotten pregnant(Okay, this makes me wince... it also makes me wonder how well this fact is known in the family. You don't just go around telling your children that you were raped and you never wanted them.), she had given birth to a son who was named Michael. Michael is my only sibling(,) but with him being sixteen years older (Wait... Hold on, math time... If Cassy was sixteen years old when she got pregnant, then sixteen years later they had a kid who is nearly sixteen years old now... Also, notice the repeating number, then Cassy is forty-eight now!) than me(,) I only ever saw him and his boyfriend (Oh, no wonder her one mom was worried she wasn't homosexual as well; she seemed to think it really does run in the family... Thank you for making it harder for the homosexuals to fit into society with your misinformation!) on the holidays, (; or .) well he would come to help me with makeup for homecoming and such (That made me flinch... Seriously, gay men have other talents and not all of them are awesome at make up, or, and a , here) but other than that I never saw him, James, or their three adoptive children. (It's okay when your brother adopts, but not you?)

( When I first read this I screamed "fact check" to myself, as a result, I have two little rants that need to go here... She named her character Anarsa, after a Hindu pastry, but she has her two moms with normal names, and her older brother with a normal name. It would make sense if she had this name because she's part Indian, but she is clearly a white girl... Why the strange name? Honestly: do not make your character have a funny name just so they're a special little snowflake. If they have an odd name, address it, because I guarantee someone made fun of them growing up and it's a sensitive issue.

And while we're on the subject of sensitive issues...: Adoption societies are strict, very very strict, about who they let adopt from them.You have to have a stable household, a steady income, be healthy, mentally and physically, and a lot of states don't let gay people adopt, and even if they do a lot of people are unreasonably biased towards them. I know it's not fair, but it's true. Not to mention it's apparently a known fact that Micheal was the child of a rape, he would've grown up knowing this, he probably would've acted out, needed counseling to get past it... The adoption society would have seen this on record and held it against him; also, they rarely adopt to single parents.)

My mothers looked at each other, having one of their silent conversation moments that they often had. Then my mom leaned down, kissed my forehead, and headed to the door(,) reminding me of all the times she had done that when I was a kid. (So she stares at your other mom, kisses you, and leaves, and says nothing? She does this often enough you remember your mom just kissing your forehead and leaving you without a "good-bye" or "I love you?" Also, you should say which mom... and why use their names? Seriously, pick: mom, momma, or real names.) Cassy sat on the couch where there was space for her(,) smiled at me(,) and brushed my hair out of my face. “Is there anything you want me to get you? A soda to calm your stomach?” she asked quietly. (In my family, Coke was remedy to stomach ailments.)

“Saltines(,)” I said quietly in response “and maybe some of the orange carrot juice (Thank you for letting me know what color carrot juice is; no, seriously, thank you. I would've been wondering if it had been made of yellow or purple carrots. Also, saying "the orange carrot juice" implies she really did want it instead of, perhaps, "the white carrot juice".),(;) I think that will make me feel better.” I rolled over as Cassy stood up and kissed my forehead(,) then headed into the kitchen. (Wait... she rolled over as she was standing and kissing your forehead at the same time...? Were you avoiding the kiss for some reason?) I closed my eyes and began to think again. Seeing Cassy made me wonder how she had done it, how had she decided to not only continue the pregnancy but to actually keep the baby. I could never keep the baby I conceived through rape. I was not (... Conjunctions are your best friend, use them.) even sure I was going to keep the baby that I conceived through love. (You conceived it through love, but abortion is your option ahead of adoption? Abortion is a tough issue, and I understand both sides of the argument, but still...) So how did she do it? (She's a stronger woman than you? You said she was sixteen, right? Apparently she did well enough to raise her son on her own so he grew up to be successful enough that even though he's unmarried he could convince and adoption agency to give him not just one but three kids.) I opened my eyes with a start as Cassy placed her hand on my shoulder (This is how you fall asleep thinking.) . I looked up at her, her brown eyes looking concerned, my drink and saltines in her hand. “Thanks mom,” I said sitting up and taking the stuff (Such a descriptive word...) from her.

“You’re welcome sweetie.” She said with a smile.

“Hey mom?” I said(,) and she tilted her head to the side(,) which was her way of saying ‘yes?’ (Like a puppy? Most people go "hmm?" when they do that.) “How come you didn’t get an abortion when you were pregnant with Michael,(?) I was thinking about it and I was just wondering how you not only didn’t get an abortion but didn’t give him up for adoption either; I don’t think I could have done either.” (Wait, she just said she couldn't have either not gotten an abortion or not adopted... Also, I told you it was common knowledge in this household that Cassy had been raped. Micheal grew up and was raised with the knowledge that his father had forced himself on his mother.)

Cassy looked at me for another few moments(,) then sat down on the couch with me again(,) brushing her very short brown hair behind her ear.(See, this is how you describe people: little bits and pieces at a time, unless they make a dramatic entrance and the character is shocked by their looks.) “What brought this up?” she asked, “It never seemed to interest you before now.” (Of course it didn't; what fourteen year old wants to know something like this?)

“In class we were talking about abortion(,) and I remembered that you got pregnant with Michael because of rape. (Rape makes you think abortion? Well, considering that's a common pro for abortions, I understand, but still... It just reminds me about this one story Cathrin wrote where our Mythology teacher, her English teacher the year before, raped her... It was all made up of course, just a way to get a different conflict in, but still...)” I said quickly(,) beginning to wish I had not started this conversation. (I wish you hadn't either, I feel squicky now. This is a sensitive subject and should only be brought up when the person who was raped wants to talk about it...)

“Well, after it first happened I was very ashamed and would not tell anyone. My parents would have never accepted that their little girl could have been raped,(;) that only happened to other girls who were asking for it, wearing slutty clothes. (This whole part right here makes me very sad... and wish for pauses in descriptive breaks. You know: she said as she frowned, eyes dazed and unfocused as she thought back on what had happened.) And (Get rid of the and.) I knew that they would disown me because no little girl of theirs was going to be a slut. (Are they really that bad? They would disown her over rape?) So for fear of being out on the streets I didn’t say a word, (get rid of the comma) to anyone, not even my girlfriend at the time. My parents also didn’t know that I was gay,(;) they(,) being the (remove this the) upstanding members of (the) community(, also, they are The Upstanding Members of Community!) would not allow me to be gay, (;)they would have sent me somewhere that would have gotten the ‘gay’ out of me. (Personally, I'm just sad places like those exist...) So obviously, I was not very close to my parents. (Obviously.) Anyway, when about two months after I was raped I realized that I had not gotten my period yet. (... It took her two months to notice? I'd be like "eh, it's late" after two weeks, then worried after a month "do I need to see a doctor, am I sick?" then suspicious after a month and a half. She says it like one day she woke up, went to the bathroom, saw the box of tampons and went "Huh, haven't used those in a while...") This was just another thing that would kill my relationship with my parents (You mean it was still alive after having to hide your sexuality from them and having them think rape victims were sluts?) ,(;) teen pregnancy was a very horrible thing to them, (:) any sex before marriage was horrible,(; or .) so naturally I would be disowned if they found out so I went to the nearest abortion clinic and talked to one of the councilors (I think she means counselor, these words sound the same but are very different.) there, (.) it was the first time I had told anyone about the rape, and I told her that if I were to keep the baby that I was sure I was pregnant with(,) then I would have no home and no way to take care of the baby (it could've worked... you never want to overuse adjectives or nouns, imagine if every he and she were the person's name.) . I had always been taught that abortion was wrong, that it was murder(,) but here I was sixteen and pregnant,(;) and what was I going to do? Raise the baby on the street?

“After talking for a while(,) she told me to keep thinking about what I wanted to do. She knew I wasn’t sure that I wanted to get the abortion. (;) I wasn’t sure about it because I knew that I would probably never get pregnant again,(.) I had already known that I was gay(, also... it always seems odd to use gay for lesbians...) and had dated several girls at my school(,) and I knew that one day I would want to be a mother(;) and (but would work instead) I didn’t see a way to do that. Obviously Adoption was not (hadn't would work instead, and sound better) occurring (occured, this happened in the past) to me in any way, shape, or form,(; or .) I wasn’t thinking (I want to replace this with considering) that later in life I could adopt(,) or that maybe I could give the baby up. But again most of all of(pick one, most of or all of) this runs (comes would work better) back to how I had been raised.

“So for several days I sat at home thinking about what I wanted, (;)did I want to throw away my only chance at having a baby?(get rid of the ? put a comma, and keep on trucking.) Or was I willing to find a way to be a mother to my child? In the end I decided to keep the baby,(; or .) I knew that my parents would kick me out(, also, they are the worst parents in the world.) so I just left one night and left them a note. I found a church and they got me in a home (I flinched, I know I did. I lived in one of these homes, there's basically only one in the area where Cathrin lives, and it's the same one I lived at. They're an orphanage which also helps teen moms and homeless teenagers; they are also zealously religious and I got in severe trouble just for hugging a friend of mine. A girl there wound up pregnant... you don't want to know how they treated her.) with people who helped me though my pregnancy and helped me stay in school after high school. If it wasn’t for them I would never have met you’re (your, otherwise this is: I would never have met you are mother) mother, (and) I never would have gone to college.” She smiled at me. “Abortion is a very controversial thing(,) Rissa, but when it comes down to it, it is that person’s decision.” She kissed my four head. (You wrote forehead twice and slip up now? Also, are both of these moms interchangeable? They seem to have the same habits and "personal nicknames".)

“Thanks mom,” I said to her(.) and (get rid of the and, I) watched her walk over to her laptop(,) which was sitting on the loveseat on the other side of the room. (I want more of this sentence. Is she surfing? Working?) Cassy was always a little bit more down to earth then my (other) mother (, Joy,) was, (;) a little less worrying (worried. Keep tense in mind.) about things then(than. Really, don't mix these two. Than is the difference between things, then is describing time.) mom. “Mom,” I said suddenly thinking about something. (Is this "I said, suddenly thinking about something" or "I said suddenly, thinking about something"? There is a difference.) “Couldn’t you have just done, (No comma) artificial insemination like mom (Hey mom, why aren't you like mom?) did with me? Or Invetro?” I had been convinced through artificial insemination, my moms had read through many different profiles of the ‘great’ attributes of the men (,) and decided on a sperm donor,(; or .) I had never really thought about it other then (than) when people asked me how I existed when I only had mom and my mom had never been with a man before. I knew I got my green eyes from my father and not my mother, (Actually they could have come from grandparents or a combination of genes reacting... You know what, I'm not even going to go into genetics...) my mother had blue eyes and almost platinum blond hair(,) so my hair must have came from my father too. (But your hair is blonde and blonde shades vary even in genetics... Wait, I said I'm not going into genetics... Just... No.)

Cassy looked back over at me as she opened her laptop again to begin working on her column again. (Again.) “When I was pregnant with Michael they didn’t exist, and maybe if they did I didn’t know about them.” (It's math and fact check time! First, the fact check: invetro became sensationalized in the news across the entire globe around 1978-1980 when the first couple was impregnated this way and later when the first official clinic opened, let's see... It's 2011 now, so I'll assume that's when this story takes place, minus sixteen years for Anarsa's age, and sixteen years more for Micheal's age... That is 1979, when it was in the news and everyone everywhere was talking about it. Also, most religious families, like the kind who think being gay is a sin, considered it be a crime against God; basically, it would probably be the most talked about thing in her household. Also, in the 70's the sperm bank industry and artificial insemination was commercialized, so there was no avoiding these two things. I think that about sums it up.) She answered(,) her fingers beginning to type away at her column. “Anything else Riss?”

“No(,) I think I’ve got it all covered now.” I said and (Start a new sentence here and get rid of the and.) munched on my saltines and juice. (;) I really did love this juice(,) it was one of my favorite things in the world, and so far the baby didn’t seem to mind that I was drinking it(,) which was good. (The baby shouldn't be protesting much of anything at this stage, there should be little to no nausea at all, let alone so bad that the only thing you can eat are crackers and carrot juice.) I looked down at my stomach as I munched. What am I going to do about you? (I flinched... This reminds me way too much of the pro-choice post going around from the point of view of the baby: "I love you mommy, you're so warm and happy. You talk to me. I'm sad, mommy, today daddy hit you, and you won't talk to me anymore. What's going on, mommy? I hurt, why is the doctor hurting me?" Oh gods I just made myself feel squicky...)I know Dougal would want you, he’s just that kind of guy. Am I the type of woman who would abort you? It’s not that I don’t want you, I do, it’s just that now is such a bad time,(;) I can’t support you, (get rid of comma, and) I can’t be a good mother to you, not now. I just want you to have everything and I can’t give you anything (And adoption is your second choice after abortion...?). (New paragraph!) I sighed as I finished eating my saltines and curled back up under the blankets(,) closing me(my. Are we Irish, now? Because I'm insulted if we are.) eyes. Pros of abortion: No one would ever need to know, (Oooh, I'll play this game too! Um, let's see: the child won't have to grow up in the system and be passed around from place to place feeling unwanted and unloved and end up as a broken shell of a human being. See, I can play this game, too.) Cons of abortion: guilt, possible self hatred, Dougal hating me. (Fact: most women who get an abortion say they would never do it again.) Pros of adoption: I wouldn’t be killing the baby, the baby would have good parents, I could have an open adoption. (You could see the baby again, if it was adopted by people you knew you could be part of their lives), Cons of adoption: Missing the baby, every one (everyone) would have to know, my grades would probably go down while pregnant (The baby could spend its entire life in the system and end up in an orphanage like the one I was at, also... if you're that concerned with missing the baby and the baby being happy, why even consider an abortion?). Pros of keeping the baby: Dougal wouldn’t hate me, and um Cons of keeping the baby: bad grades, having to get a job, every one (everyone) would have to know about the baby. There has got to be more then (than) those reasons for keeping the baby(,) right? If there wasn’t then there would not be so many teenage girls keeping their babies(,) would there? (Three words for you: Sixteen And Pregnant.)

That is the end of this chapter, this is no more of this chapter. What saddens me is that towards the end of the first half of this chapter it felt like she might be getting the hang of writing; I've read the other two chapters that are up, from this point on she just gave up.

Grammar lessons to remember:

Whenever you're not sure how something sounds, read it aloud to yourself; if something sounds stiff or just not right, fix it.

Conjunctions are your friend, if you wouldn't talk that way out loud, then don't write that way.

You're and your are different words, you're is you are. Say it out loud if you're not sure.

Then and than, there is a difference, mainly the difference between one meaning "and then this happened" and the other being the difference between two things, such as "I would rather eat chocolate than go to the dentist."

Also, everyone and every one is different. Everyone refers to all of a group of people, every one is saying all of one.

And as always, remember punctuation and spell check, and that only proper nouns are capitalized. See you next week for another lesson!

My Drunken Post

Well, tonight me and the Hedgehog finally celebrate my 21st birthday… by making drinks from the Drunken Moogle. Come on, I mean, video game inspired drinks? And us being huge ass nerds? Hells yeah we’re gonna drink video game inspired cocktails! If I’m drinking it’s gonna be that!

We tried the Anti-Sora drink… The Hedgehog liked it, but I hate grape, so… And there was this Gears of War drink with Cheerwine… but there was too much vodka… It was way too bitter.

The Pokemon drinks are awesome, though. The Squirtle shot was intense, but coconuty afterwards, and the Wartortle was… Yummy.

So far I’m feeling pretty good, not too fuzzy in the head. We’re watching Troy, only I keep sprouting all sorts of mythology. Curse you mythology class and my own paganism and love of mythology! Curse you and my now fuzzy arms!

Okay, so I’m starting to feel a little weird now… I’ve drank alcohol before, and I can honestly say: I like the warmth, I hate the way it makes my body feel. The first time I drank anything my dad offered me some cheap red wine. That stuff tasted like what it was: rotten grapes and moldy old bread. I had some pink champagne when my cousin got married, too… it was bitter. On my 18th birthday me and Jess split a bottle of Smirnoff, and another time we drank Mike’s Hard Lemonade. I didn’t finish all mine, and when I went home the next day the Girl-Fiend spiked it with vodka and I finished it. I got past giggly and all the way to sits-there-and-stares. That was when my dad was in jail.

Another time me and Lulu split a six pack of mango stuff. She had to make me drink a second bottle because apparently when I start drinking I don’t like to keep drinking. It makes my chest feel uncomfortable and my uterus gets all hot and angry, then my jaws feel funny… Finally I’ll feel normal, but that’s only after I get buzzed, and then I still feel kinda odd in my muscles. Oh! And on Thanksgiving last year I drank a little too, the Girl-Fiend made me do it. Spiked my drink.



Well, apparently I’m okay enough to type. So…

Cerberus

My Man Cooks AND Makes Fire, What Can Yours Do?

I have to say, I managed to land myself a pretty good man. I mean, seriously! He's absoulutely awesome and I can't even begin to think of what I did to deserve him or how many karma points I had to cash in to get him. Really! The Hedgehog is fairly clean, hilarious, jokes around constantly but knows when to be serious, sometimes looks at me and announces I'm gorgeous for no reason, surprises me almost constantly, and on top of it all he can cook!

Maybe he's not a world famous chef, but for a man he can cook really good food. This is a man who definitely knows his way around a kitchen and how to rock it. I'm talking these really delicious meals, much better than the macaroni and cheese, omelets, or everything grilled my dad used to cook growing up; and aside from the incident last week he caught the stove on fire, there's been absolutely no problems with him in the kitchen. It was totally an accident, too; I told him not to use the front burner, turkey grease has spilled on it and was smoking, but neither of us thought it would catch fire, so... I mean, in a way it's actually my fault, since I didn't clean it after it happened and I'm the only one who knows how to take the stove eye apart.

I Am A Horrible, Cruel, Mean, Twisted, Evil, Passive Aggressive, Vindictive Person (but I just can't stop!)

I stand at the apex of war...

I am a horrible, cruel, mean, twisted, evil, passive aggressive, vindictive person... but there really isn't much I can do to help myself; you see, once upon a time I had a temper just like my mom, and then one day... she was gone. When I realized I could never take back my regrets and the things I'd said, I decided I would just never have regrets over things I'd said ever again... except now I have regrets over things I don't say. This isn't about that, though: this post is about my love of looking for things that make me angry so I can sit and feel insanely alive as my adrenaline courses through my blood. I am, needless to say, a terrible person...

There are things that must be said.

 Especially I am terrible when it comes to the subject of a certain young woman named Cathrin... I won't even try to hide her name, she's seeking out attention all over the internet, so it won't matter if I hide it, you'll still find her... eventually. See, we used to be friends in high school, she was younger than me and a lot more immature even back then, but we got along fine... only she had, problems...

I still worry about her...

Like she was completely obsessed with a boy she'd met at 13 or 14 named Chris over the internet. He was 18 when she met him, and her parents had already had him arrested once for cybering with her over the internet. How obsessed was obsessed? She'd write fanfiction, horrible mini-novels, all with the same plotline: underage girl meets older boy, gets pregnant, loses baby.

I'm talking physically ill...

Oh, and I do mean bad fanfiction... She wrote a Twilight spin off called What She Didn't Know. It was from the point of view of a male vampire who was obviously based on Chris. He met an underage girl over the internet and got arrested, then tricked his family into moving to her town so he could sneak into her room at night and have sex with her. The name of one chapter was basically But What She Didn't Know Was That When A Vampire And A Human Have Sex And The Woman Gets Pregnant The Baby Grows Really Fast And When It's Born She Dies. It was probably the worst thing I had ever read, but I did because at the time, we were friends, and I fairly liked her... also, I clearly didn't understand what delusions are and how it would've been smarter to do something about it before it ruined her life...

"I'm pregnant with his spirit baby."

And why did she do this? Why did she write stories about 18 year olds getting under aged girls pregnant against the wishes of their parents only for her to write in a miscarriage? Because despite having never met him in person and the fact he lived several states away, she used to tell us, quite blatantly, that he had sex with her in her sleep and she was pregnant from his spirit. When, normally a few weeks later, she wasn't showing any signs of actually being pregnant, she'd give up and claim miscarriage. Of course, she never told her parents and never went to the doctor, so you can see how this made her stories untrustworthy... especially when she'd claim a miscarriage then a week later say she was two weeks pregnant... Oh, and the spirit babies thing, too..

Still mad she used them, though...

A few years later she was on Facebook and she had managed to convince an entire community of women who really had lost children that this had all happened; oh, and she managed to manipulate her parents into letting her meet him in person, and now she's married to him... When I tried to tell these women this, a lot of them believed me because they had seen the holes in her stories and how obsessed she was, but a lot didn't because, well, it's the internet and they don't know me from jack, and they couldn't believe that anyone would do such a thing. When Cathrin told me stop after slandering me for almost a week, I let it go... I felt awful that her delusions were accidentally being reinforced, but I let it go; there was nothing I could do anymore anyway.

Am I really seeing what I think I'm seeing?

During NaNoWriMo, though, I saw her name on the site, and I read her book summary... and my petty nature had me silently competing with her in an effort to write better quality faster than she could. It got me through the book quickly, and it let me vent some anger, and all was well... until I saw she made a page on FB promoting herself as an author... and then I saw she made a blog... where she had put up the first three chapters of her book... She's completely convinced she's a writer now; I consider myself a writer, and even I know I'm probably never going to get a book deal: when your average book is more than 500 pages, you tend to have problems getting published.

... I'm a terrible person...

She butchered the English language though and did so little fact checking on her source material that a paragraph in I felt like, well... like taking her hopes and dreams and grinding them into a paste beneath my heel and rubbing her face in it. It was just too good to pass up... So, instead of letting my rage and anger take over me... I'm instead going to play the role of editor to these three chapters. Follow along if you dare, if you don't... Well then, you can return to your regularly scheduled programming and ignore those posts.

Super Late Post

Alright, so a few posts back,  on mine and the Hedgehog’s anniversary, I mentioned that the Alien was coming over. Well, when he showed up that day, we opened the door to this:

That is a box full of turkey and a bag of corn, stuffing, pumpkin muffins, brownies, gravy, and potatoes au gratin. After I put up all of the food, I sat and worked on a blog post while the Alien and my Hedgehog played Yu-Gi-Oh and nerded all over each other.

The Alien told us about how on Skyrim this dragon kept trolling him… flying up behind him and breathing fire on him, then flying away when he turned around to fight it.

Then we went to Wal-Mart and Game Stop and Wal-Mart again, trolling everything in our paths.

While we were in the store, someone put a Domino’s sticker on the driver’s side door of the Alien’s truck. We thought it would be funny  to  leave it, and according to the Alien… it’s still there…

Then we went to Taco Bell and the Alien got the new triple stack steak thing…

What I was expecting... What he got.

Seriously, it came out super huge and wrapped in tin foil, with real steak... dripping cheese.

It was actually a day too hilarious and awesome for words.

Happy Birthday, Hunny!

Believe it or not, if it wasn’t for the Blonde One, I would never have met Hunny, or even Lulu and Tiffy for that matter. Heck, if it wasn’t for the fact I was so ridiculously talented, I never would have met the Blonde One!

No, seriously. We were in the same art class, and one day I’m sitting there drawing this anime style winged guard for a story I was writing, and she just sat down across from me and started talking about how awesome it was. By the end of class we were friends and she invited me to sit with her and her friends; I almost didn’t do it, since I normally ate lunch with Mir-Mir and her friends, but for a while there I kept feeling left out of conversations and awkward, so I thought I’d try this whole “making new friends” thing all my other friends were doing… That and I have abandonment issues, so I thought I’d get back at them for daring to make friends other than me.

This is the group I walked up to: find Hunny!

Can’t? She’s the blonde one… no, the one on the bench.

They were in a class lower than me, well, except for the one girl,  but we all loved anime and manga and art and writing and all the creative things in the entire world like acting and movies! Hunny especially was talented, what with her adorable kitty drawings and writing abilities, and her website, and her piano and flute, and sign-language, and clothes designing skills… We were awesome and full of win and spread our otaku goodness across the entire school! WOOO!

For her birthday that year, we all went out to the local Chinese buffet place, and we got the cute waiter:

He had anime hair.

It was the perfect start to a perfect storm of awesome, later we went to her grandmothers place to stay the night, and we made up a game called the Blushing Game. It was a hilarious game, using each other anime crushes and our creative abilities, we created mental images and stories to make people blush, and we even had a point system.

I remember that Tiffy like Sasuke of Naruto fame, and Hunny liked Dark Mousey… but I can’t remember who the Blonde One liked… it might have been Satoshi from DNAngel… I remember that I didn’t like anyone, I was past that point of fangirling and had moved on to writing my own characters and fangirling over the awesomeness I had made, but for the night they made a human form to the kyuubi no kitsune, and thrust him, half-completed and full of badassery, at me.

Eventually things downgraded into bad porn, though, when the Blonde One started talking about Dark throwing Hunny on tables and covering her with Buckets Of Butter… I fell asleep…

And then the Blonde One swore she saw the Tooth Fairy in the pendulum of the clock, so we all hid in one bedroom, and I slept in the doorway to protect everyone.

Worst 50th Post Ever

... You know how I'm an easily terrified person? My mind sits and thinks about how things can go wrong so I'm always prepared, but sometimes something happens that even I haven't thought of; maybe it's something so good my brain thinks it's a trick, or maybe it's something so bad that all of my instincts scream at me to run before something worse happens.

This has happened to me a lot in the past, but only in the years after I lost my mom. After I lost her, I changed. I couldn't take confrontation, couldn't handle change... Believe it or not, I didn't get terrified at every little thing that might go wrong. I've run a lot. Get in a fight with my dad? Run. Get in a fight with a friend? Run, then make excuses not to talk to them. Get in a fight with my dad's Girl-Fiend? Get forced into a fight with her, then run.

Tonight's no different, either.

See, apparently the Terror (oh gods, should I be calling her that...?) had a bruise. I saw it today, she showed it to me. I figured it came from either when she made me pick her up and carry her away from the door while she was kicking and screaming, or from when her dad had to haul her up last night. Either way, it was getting blamed on me... Remember my fear of the Hedgehog's family hating me? Thinking me a horrible person? Yeah, well it happened, apparently... They are mad at me...

And every single fiber of my being is screaming at me to run, trying to come up with plans so I can avoid confrontation all together. Even horrible stuff I would never do my brain is thinking of. Everything from "fake sick so you have to stay home on Thanksgiving and not talk to them" to "get up after the Hedgehog goes to sleep and walk away, we'll figure it out from there."

... What kind of horrible person am I if I'm thinking of running off in the middle of the night without saying goodbye to my Hedgehog? Or even that I love him? What kind of twisted, selfish, cruel-hearted person would do that?

I'm terrified the answer is me...

Don't You Make Me Come Get You!

How could you be so stupid, me?

... I can't believe this child made me chase her down... again. I can't believe I made the mistake of letting her play outside again... again. Honestly, when am I ever gonna learn? Do I have some kind of chronic brain problem that makes learning from past mistakes impossible?

 It's just the Terror's been so... terrible today. All day long she's stared at me in that strangely blank but vaguely sad and confused way she has, making me repeat everything innumerable times.

"Stop. Stop it. I said stop. Stop right now!"

 "Let the dog go. Let Noodles go. Stop it, let him go, he wants down."

 "Close the fridge, you just ate and you didn't even finish your food. Close it. No, you just ate."

 "Pick that up. Pick it up. Pick it up. Pick up your mess."

"Let him go. Leave him alone."

"Get up. Get up and let Noodles out. Get up. Up. Up. Up!"

That last one was followed by, "Don't make me come get you..." She stood up and started inching away, and when I stood, she bolted. I chased her down the stairs and around the back of the house before I could snatch her up without hurting her...

Update: Ugh, she just made me have to get up and turn her back around in the timeout chair after she tried to play with Noodles and watch cartoons... Which is impossible because the kitchen is blocked off from the television...

Update: ... And after explaining again how timeout starts when she's quiet, she tried to get Noodles to come over to her... again...

Edit: This is my 45th post...