I Think It's a Pagan Thing

In relation to my post from a couple of days ago, in which I discussed my lack of success at writing fiction, I thought I would tell you about the thing that seems to cause me the most trouble when trying to write about people who don't actually exist. It's the names. I don't know why exactly, but I can know everything about a character, plan out every part of his or her personality, but I can never decide what said character should be called. I'm sure other would-be writers don't stress themselves out so much over character names, but to me it jut seems so vital that their names fit them.

You guys know how I've been reading up for quite a while now about Paganism, Wicca, witchcraft, mythology, etc. Well, several times, I have come across this idea of names having their own innate power. Many of the characters in various myths have names that describe their traits. There is the tradition of people choosing their own names. There is even the idea that using someone's name can give you some measure of power over them. Basically what I'm getting at is, within Pagan traditions, names are really important. I've had this issue with character names since well before I knew any of that though. It just always felt important to me.

When I do get motivated and try to write fiction, I usually find myself trying to write about as few characters as possible simply to avoid having to name any more people than I have to. It is often when I feel the necessity to add more characters that I end up giving up on a particular story. Maybe I should just buy one of those baby names books and flip through it randomly, when I have to name a new character.

Easy for you to say, Juliet. You only have one of the most famous names ever in human history. 

Not My Finest Hour

Last nigh it was just me and the instructor at kickboxing again, which was cool. What wasn't so cool was that it turns out I've been doing my left hook wrong this entire time. We spent what seemed like an hour (but was probably more like fifteen minutes) trying to get it right. He kept watching me, then saying "Okay, try it this way." but every time, it just got more awkward. No matter what I did, it always came out wrong. Then, apparently feeling incompetent wasn't good enough, so I dropped my fucking gum out of my mouth. That way I could also look like I was having a stroke. I guess that's what I get for chewing gum at a kickboxing class in the first place. I think I finally got the punch right though, so I guess that's something.

"Are you chewing gum?!"

Maybe There's Hope for Me Yet

I am totally absorbed in Hemlock Grove. I was a bit concerned about reading it, because I loved the show so much and I was afraid that I might not like the author's writing style, which could totally ruin the story for me. He's really quite excellent though. He describes things in a way that is quite poetic at times, but without being too fluffy, but still writes dialogue that sounds like real people.

Aside from just enjoying the story though, this book has me thinking, I should really write some fiction. I've started about a thousand different stories and I never follow through with them. I either lose interest, I don't know where to go with them, or (as has happened on several occasions) my computer gets fucked up and they get lost. The reason I say this book has me thinking about it again is because it worked out really well for Brian McGreevy. According to the bio on the back cover "Brian McGreevy grew up near Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, and now lives in Los Angeles. He is the head writer and executive producer of the Netflix adaptation of Hemlock Grove." I researched him online and there isn't much to be found but, as far as I can tell, this is the only book he has ever written. So basically, he writes one good book and now he gets to live in LA and write his own series. And, because he is the one writing the series, they didn't fuck it all up like they usually do when they adapt a book for film or TV. Since that sounds to me like just about the best thing that could ever happen to anyone, maybe I should work on writing a fucking book.

......or work in Hollywood, either will do. 

Sorry Guys

My Hemlock Grove book came yesterday and, because my time is precious (Hah!) I've decided that I would rather read it than go to the effort of writing a decent, well-thought-out post. I'm not sure exactly why I'm so fucking excited to read something that I already know how it ends, but I am. So yeah, maybe tomorrow I'll write a decent post...or maybe I'll keep writing half-assed ones until I finish the book. Only time will tell.

That's Very Helpful, Thanks

I was just saying a few days ago how, lately, the internet here has been much more reliable than it used to be. Well, it turns out that it's only like that until around 5:30 am and then it goes back to being complete shit again. I slept in yesterday, meaning I didn't get up until almost 6:30, and Hughesnet decided to punish me.

The internet wasn't just slow, it was unbearably slow and it kept randomly cutting out entirely. So I would be waiting for fifteen minutes for a page to load and then it would come up and tell me that it couldn't connect. Well, your know that button on the key board that turns the WiFi on and off? I found recently that if I tap that button a couple of times it will sometimes kick the internet back on. Apparently, yesterday I did that a few too many times and it just decided to shut off and refuse to come back on.

I tried checking for connection multiple times, I tried restarting my computer, I tried turning it off and leaving it off for several hours, I tried taking it to my mom's house to see if it would connect to her WiFi, nothing. Finally, I opened the troubleshooter to see if it could find anything. The troubleshooter was like "Oh hey! Here's your problem! You're not connected to the internet." and I was like "No shit?" and it was like "Would you like to fix this problem?" and I was like "Uh yeah, I would. I would like to fix that problem."  

That's Kind of Nice

Yesterday, at work, I actually had two patients who specifically requested me. This may not seem like a big deal, but it kind of is. You see, for the most part, the people I end up working on are just overflow from the other massage therapists. Then they always seem vaguely disappointed that I'm not the one they were hoping to see. I am finally starting to get a few of my own clients now though, who want to see me specifically. It's amazing how much more I like my job when it seems like someone actually gives a shit that I'm there.

Well, That's It

I have finally finished Sandman, well mostly anyway. I read all 10 original volumes, plus the two extra ones Endless Nights and The Dream Hunters. I just found out that there are actually two more that are from Death's perspective instead of Dream's, which I fully intend to read, but I have already ordered the book Hemlock Grove (because I need to know if it will give me any information that wasn't included in the show), so those will just have to wait.

Anyway, now that I'm finished with it, I can officially tell you how much I loved it! I have never actually read any comics before, and it took a little while for me to get used to the format, but once I did it was great. Neil Gaiman has this remarkable ability to combine different types of stories, and different types of characters, that seem like they could never fit together; yet somehow they all blend perfectly into the Sandman universe. He mixes is own characters with references to other comics, myths and deities from all over the world (everyone from Cain and Able, to the Three Fates, to Bast, to Oberon and Titania, and a plethora of others in between), the supernatural, alternate universes, actual historical events, and the lives of everyday people. It all fits in such a way that it seems to, somehow, make our world make more sense.

I loved the way Sandman was able to take these infinitely powerful, immortal beings (The Endless) and make them feel like people you could relate to. They each had their own issues and flaws; Dream has serious problems with relationships, Destruction found his job unfulfilling and decided to be an artist instead, and well...Delirium was pretty much nothing but issues and that somehow made her completely irresistible. Also, I found the general dysfunction within their family to be very endearing. It turns out you can live for all of eternity and still never learn how to get along with your family.

A word of warning though, for anyone who wants to read them, the introductions should definitely come with spoiler alerts, particularly in The Kindly Ones. So yeah, save the intros for last.

Who could not love her?

A Confession and a Promise

I'm going to tell you guys something that I have been intentionally not telling you since I started this blog. It's something that I feel terrible about, and I didn't want anyone to know. Now I'm going to put it out there because telling you about it will force me to actually do something to fix it.

I have mentioned, sort of in passing, the cats that live here. What I didn't tell you is how fucking many of them there are. My dad's property is completely overrun with half-feral cats. I honestly have no idea how many there actually are. What I do know is that their numbers are steadily increasing. We are constantly finding new kittens, and sometimes new adult cats just show up out of nowhere. This may not sounds like such a horrible thing, but it is. Because there are so many of them, and so few of them are even remotely tame, we can't really take care of them. We feed them and give them water, but that's about it. Things happen to them; they randomly disappear, they get hit by cars, they get sick, and there really isn't anything I can do about it.

It used to be that, whatever else might be wrong in my life, I could at least hold onto the fact that I was someone who always tried to do what was right. Well, letting this continue isn't right. It makes me feel like a bad person, and a hypocrite. I have ignored this situation for so long by telling myself that the cats weren't my responsibility. They were never my cats, and this whole thing started well before I moved back here. Some of them descended from cats that my grandmother used to have, others I think were dropped off, or just found their way here. The thing is though, it doesn't matter whose responsibility they should be. Someone has to do something.

I know there's nothing I can really do about the ones who are already here. No one is going to want to adopt half-wild cats, especially when everyone else is always trying to get rid of kittens too. And there is no way I'm going to send them to a shelter, knowing they would just be killed; at least in their current situation they have a chance at survival. What I can do though, is stop the cycle from continuing. So here is the promise; I am going to find some way to get them spayed and neutered so they can't just keep multiplying. I have no idea how I'm going to afford it (I'll max out my credit card if I have to, even though that probably still won't be enough), or even how I will manage to catch them, but I will find a way. There are certain ones who always seem to be pregnant, so maybe if I start with them I can at least slow the cycle down so that I can eventually catch up. Whatever it takes though, I am not just going to ignore this anymore.

So if anybody knows of any vets in the area who might be willing to give me some kind of bulk discount or something, it would be greatly appreciated.

Almond Butter and Elbows

Last night, before class, I went on an epic quest for almond butter. Well, I thought it would be an epic quest, but I actually only had to go to two stores. I was quite relieved when the old Kroger actually had a few jars of their brand left. I bought them all and then felt a bit guilty. I mean what if some other almond butter addict comes in and there aren't any left?

Anyway, in class, we (there was another student there this time) learned how to use elbows. When I called my mom to tell her about it, the conversation went something like this;

Her- You mean hitting people with your elbows?!
Me- Yeah.
Her- Are you going to be wearing elbow pads?
Me- Well we did tonight, but I don't think we always will be.
Her- I wouldn't want to be hit with someone's elbow!
Me- Well, that's sort of the point. No one does.
Her- I don't think I'm going to like this.

I always imagine this is what my mom looks like when I talk to her, on the phone, about kickboxing. 

Success(ish)

For the last couple of weeks, I've actually been (for the most part) accomplishing what I set out to do. I've been getting up early, like somewhere between 5 and 6. I've been getting all the laundry and dishes done before I go to my mom's house. I've been keeping my inbox cleaned out, which is quite an ordeal since I get around 100 emails everyday, while still managing not to spend hours online looking at Pinterest. I've been practicing with my jump-rope so I won't look like a dipshit when I have to do it in class, and I'm definitely getting much better at it. I've been posting in the mornings when my brain is actually (kind of) working, and doing a halfway decent job of keeping my posts on a regular schedule. Plus I've been doing a fair number of massages at work. The problem is, these things only seem important when I don't do them. I get all pissed off at myself when I don't get enough accomplished throughout the day, but then when I do get things accomplished I think "Who fucking cares?" I keep telling myself that I will feel better about my life if I make myself be productive, but apparently I'm a big liar. I don't feel better about it.....at all.....ever.

Oh, I'm Not Done Yet

You know my, even more excessive than usual, cursing from yesterday's post? Well, it's not over yet. In fact, you are about to find out exactly why I call this blog "Diary of a Volatile Vegan". So I'll warn you now, anyone who thinks they might possibly get offended should just move right on along.

Before I get started, I'll let you know that I seem to be unaffected by the almond butter of death. Apparently salmonella can take up to two days to kick in, and it has now been right around two days since I first ate from the questionable jar. This is an enormous relief, but it does not diminish my intense anger about this whole situation. Here's why; do you know how salmonella spreads? through shit. Do you know what plants don't do? shit! This means that MY food is being infected by germs coming from animal agriculture, either because of runoff from their enormous fucking waste pools, or because some dumbass thought it would be a good idea to use said waste as cheap fertilizer. This isn't the first time either. Recently there was a big thing about rice with arsenic in it. You know where that came from? Someone fertilizing the rice with manure from egg farms. That's right, factory farmed chickens are fed arsenic. Why? Because these people don't give a fuck what they feed them as long as they keep popping out eggs. Before that there was contaminated spinach, again, spinach doesn't shit!

The point here is that no matter how hard I try to stay away from every aspect of animal exploitation industries, they are ALWAYS worming their way into my life. They sneak their nasty little byproducts into everything they possible can, right now there's a big controversy because some of the supposedly cruelty-free companies are advocating for some bill that's supposed to make products "safer" but really means more mandatory animal-testing (which, by the way, makes NOTHING safer!), and now their shit is trying to give me motherfucking food-poisoning!

Even if you don't give a flying fuck about animal rights (which, by the way, you should if you have half a soul) you should care that these assholes are ruining everything! Along with torturing animals, they are contaminating the food, the water, the air, and even those of us who refuse to support their evil fucking business have to deal with the results. These, evil, soulless motherfuckers need to be stopped before they destroy the whole goddamed planet.

Let's stick with the Godfreys, shall we? They have such a way with words. We'll go with Roman today.

"She" in this situation being anyone with the slightest association with animal agriculture.

 

Why Do I Fucking Bother!?

You know how I'm a huge fucking germaphobe? how I wash my hand like a hundred times a day and freak out over any kind of dirt or germs being anywhere near my food? You also know how I'm obsessive about health? how I take excellent care of my body and only eat things that are exceptionally healthy? Finally, you know how I hate nothing more in the world than being sick? how I will do damn near anything to avoid being around anyone who might infect me with anything and then become paranoid about it for days? Well, last night my sister called to tell me that my almond butter, the thing that I eat more of than anything else, had been recalled because of, get this, salmonella! I checked and, sure enough, I had two jars from the (possibly) contaminated batch and had already eaten half of one of them. I looked it up later last night and, apparently, they don't know that it was actually contaminated, it seems to be more of a covering their ass kind of thing, but I'm still going to be flipping right the fuck out about it for a couple of days. Plus I'm going to have to throw away over $20 worth of almond butter and order more online so I don't starve.

To quote Olivia Godfrey "Fuck me.........fuck YOU!"

I imagine you can all tell from my excessive overuse of the "fuck" that I find this whole thing highly perturbing.  

Contemplating.......

So apparently there is an exotic dance class in Morgantown. I found a flyer for it at the co-op and I have been trying to decide if I want to check it out or not. I think it could be a lot of fun, and they have a class that ends just before my kickboxing class starts so I wouldn't have to make an extra trip to Morgantown. The thing is, 1-it's kind of expensive ($20 per class). 2- I'm not entirely sure I'm going to particularly feel like doing both classes right in a row like that. 3- I am an awkward person and I'm just not sure I can pull off pole dancing. I don't know though, I think it might be good for me; you know, a confidence booster or something. Then again, I might just make an ass of myself and be utterly humiliated. If I did take the class at least I would know that, if I get tired of massage therapy and decide to go out for a job as a stripper again, I would have some experience this time.

I don't care what anyone says, I think this shit is beautiful. 

Aliens and Environmentalists

Yesterday, my sister and I went to see Guardians of the Galaxy. I was totally shocked that she agreed to see it, it's not the type of movie she usually watches, and even more shocked when she said she loved it. That makes two movies in two days that we agree on; that must be a new record for us. Anyway, the movie was completely hilarious, the characters were great, it had cool special effects, and you got to see Karen Gillan (aka Amy Pond) as a bald, blue alien. Plus Rocket and Groot were just so incredibly adorable. So yeah, definitely worth watching.

Then, last night, my dad and I watched Noah. I had heard some interesting things about this movie, mostly that conservatives were super fucking pissed about it. I can totally see why. It had a distinctly environmentalist/ animal rights message. Noah and his family did not eat meat and he was always trying to explain to his children the importance of taking care of animals and the earth. He even chased off some hunters and gave their prey a proper funeral at the beginning of the movie. They also implied that the infamous "forbidden fruit" from the Garden of Eden was, in fact, meat. Noah kept getting these visions, showing all of the mistakes mankind had made since the beginning, and he repeatedly saw a hand reaching for a piece of fruit that was a deep red color and pulsing like a heartbeat. I love that idea so fucking much! Plus, Noah was apparently the founder of the Voluntary Human Extinction Movement . My mom (who had watched to movie before) and my dad both thought that Noah was being insane by the end, but I totally agreed with him. The earth would have been a whole lot better off if no humans had survived. Just saying.

Dauntless

My sister, my dad, and I watched Divergent last night. I had heard some very good things about it and, I must say, it lived up to the hype. For one thing, all three of us really liked it which is exceptionally rare. It got me thinking though, I wish that whole program that makes you face your fears actually existed because I'm honestly not sure what mine would be. I just don't think any of my fears would really work in that situation. I mean, how do you face the fear that your life will never mean anything? or that you'll never learn to connect with other people? I suppose they could put me in a party where I don't know anyone, or make me swim through sewage, but I think both of those would be pretty lame.

Also, Dauntless had some seriously cool tattoos. The way they did the tattoos was highly disappointing though. For people who were not supposed to be afraid of pain, the painless tattoo process seemed rather weird. I think they should have gone with the ancient method, with the comb thing and the little hammer. That would have been impressive. 

Improvement

I think I did much better at kickboxing last night than I did at the previous class. For one thing, the other student wasn't there (I don't know, I'm just much better at fighting against people I know are significantly better at it than me). However, the other instructor I had met a couple of times before was there. So yeah, me + two instructors. Apparently there was a reason for it; I guess they were both supposed to meet with somebody who just never showed up. Anyway, I feel like I embarrassed myself much less than last time, and I actually got to do some (sort of) real fighting. My usual instructor and I did this weird-standing-up-wrestling-thing, which I believe he said is called "clench" during which he knocked me down twice. Then, at the end of class, I sparred with each of them and the other instructor punched me in the eye. Because I am a crazy person, I think both of these things are fantastic!

Also, at one point they were trying to decide what to do next and my usual instructor said "Well, since she never seems to get tired....." Which I thought was pretty fucking cool. 

 

Seriously Stuck

You know how you sometimes get a song stuck in your head? Did you ever have one get stuck for twelve years? Yesterday I finally tracked down, and added to my iPod, a song that I have had stuck in my head since I first heard it in Taken. Not the one with Liam Neeson, the SciFi channel one (back when it was still SciFi, not SyFy). I don't know what it is about this song, but I loved it at the time and I still love it. I would forget about it for months at a time, and then randomly find myself singing the last little bit of it (because that was the only part that I knew). Well, I finally remembered it at a time when I was near my computer and could find and download it. Now I can actually learn the whole thing instead of just the last four lines.  

Here it is, if you care. Just Before It Gets Dark, by Emmylou Harris. 

This ^ is the Taken I am referring to, starring little tiny Dakota Fanning. 

Vitacost

So you guys know how much I love Vitacost, right? In case you don't know, I fucking love them! They are basically the only way I can afford to live. It has been bugging the shit out of me, for years, though that half the stuff I buy from them is also available in their own store brand, which is even cheaper than the regular brands but which I couldn't buy because I could find no indication of whether or not they conduct animal testing. Well, I finally got desperate enough to write to their customer service people and ask them about it. This is the response I received.

Dear Ms. Metz, 

Thanks for your interest in Vitacost's high-quality products. My name is Brian and I will be happy to assist you. 

We can assure you that there is no animal testing performed in the production of any Vitacost brand products. 

If you have any further questions or comments regarding this matter, please feel free to discuss it with us at customersupport@vitacost.com. 

So yeah, I'm pretty fucking excited about that.

Drive

My dad and I recently ran out of series to watch, which is troubling because that's pretty much all we do. Luckily, I had a few movies stashed away that I had dug out of various $5.00 bins at some point. The other night, we watched Drive. Now, I remember when this movie came out thinking "Meh, that might be decent." I was never excited to see it though; and even after I bought it, it sat around on my shelf for months. Well, I'm really glad I finally watched it because I honestly think it was one of the best movies I've ever seen. It was incredibly weird, to the point that I'm really not sure how they pulled it off. Everything about it was just odd. There was this whole eighties vibe to it, the music, the clothes, the general look of it, that didn't really go with the tone of the movie at all. Ryan Gosling's character (the main character) didn't have a name; I mean, I assume he did have a name but they never told us what it was. He was listed in the credits as "The Driver". He also had almost no lines. I think I may watch the movie again and count how many words he says throughout the whole thing. I've gained shit-ton of respect for him as an actor, because anyone who can mange to create a compelling character with nothing but facial expression has some serious talent. And no one else talked much either, there was less dialog than I have seen in any movie ever. Still, it all totally worked somehow. Basically what I'm saying is, it's a good movie and you should watch it (even though you probably already did, since it come out three years ago).

I've Got a Theory

I have realized something that I find kind of interesting since I've been doing massages, this time around. I have found that many times, after I work on a particular area of a person's body it will actually look different than it did when I started. The one I notice the most is that muffin-top area. With most people, after I work on their low back, that gets smaller. That one seems to be the most obvious, but pretty much any spot that's really tight looks slimmer and is shaped better after I've worked on it. So my theory is this; perhaps we can actually changed the shape of our bodies by loosening up the right muscles. I have been experimenting on myself, it seems like it might be working. 

Happy 600th Post

I wanted to come up with something kind of special for the 600th post, but I've got nothing. Sorry. So instead I'm going to bore the crap out of you by doing a tarot reading and posting it here.

1- The issue at hand- Eight of cups. Interference by another person, wandering, wrong path, abandoning all, searching for fulfillment, trying to balance relationships, uncertain about whether to stay in a situation or leave.

2- An obstacle of vehicle- Knight of wands. Unassuming, hard-working, kind, loyal, quietly ambitious, justice-serving, reliable, responsible, will like you unconditionally until you prove you can't be trusted, dislikes confrontation, " Just remember, even though he appears gentle and methodical, like that quiet, mountain
lake, beneath his calm surface lies a dormant volcano, ready to come back to life."

3- The way I want the situation to progress- Judgement. Reward, favorable judgement, you have led your life well, positive things will come your way, your judgement of character is accurate.

4- Events that led to the issue- Three of swords. Sorrow, grief, heartache, hanging on to hurts, refusing to move on, let go of hurt and move on with your life.

5- Near past- Two of pentacles. Imbalance, coveting, insufficient income, foolish spending, juggling money.

6- Near future- Five of wands. Surrounded by conflict, being in the middle, backbiting, tension at work, competition vs. cooperation, conflict of unknown direction or indistinct aim.

7- The most important aspect of the issue- Four of wands. Marriage, celebration, happy home-life, joy contentment, being blessed, you are ready for all the good things life has to offer.

8- How others affect the situation- Page of wands. Compassionate, wise, peace-loving, learns to keep her own council at an early age, loves all types of creatures, emotionally sound, intelligent and mature, adventurous.

9- My hopes and fears- Queen of wands. Nurturing, healing, benevolent, loyal, loves nature, adept at using products of nature, easy going but works in active/high energy way, pleasant, quiet, efficient, always working in the background, "It's not likely that anyone even notices what she does at work, unless, of course, she is not there to do it and things begin to fall apart."

10- The outcome- The emperor. Fatherhood, lessons, "The Emperor is the father figure, the authority figure and a very accomplished male. His authority is achieved by wisdom and experience.", becoming a parent, lessons learned from parents, acquiring a new male authority figure, seek advice from older or wiser soul.

I'm not going to annoy you further by actually explaining what I interpret this to mean. I will say that, while I'm not entirely sure what to make of that outcome, the rest seems pretty much dead on.

This is the layout I use, in case anyone cares. 

Did I Say Something Wrong?

One other failed attempt at social interaction occurred at kickboxing Friday, along with what I talked about yesterday. There were a couple of guys hanging out in the other room during my class, and they started to leave the same time my class was ending. They were talking to my instructor, and then one of them turned to me and said "You have a lot of cool tattoos. I would get one but I'm afraid of needles." Now, I could have just thanked him and let it go, but I decided to try for the social interaction thing. I said "It's not bad; it doesn't feel like getting a shot or anything." To which he replies "Really? Cause that's what I'm afraid of." Now here is the part where I failed. I decided to try to explain to him what it does feel like, and creeped everybody right the fuck out. I said "Yeah, it's more like a scratch." He gave me sort of a skeptical look, so I decided to clarify by stating "Kind of like a cat scratch or something, but...you know....for like two hours." He, and everyone else, then proceeded to give me this look. 

You Always Hurt the One You.......Know

Last night was kickboxing. It was a little different this time because, for the first time in at least a month, there was another student there; and he and I had to, kind of, spar. The instructor had said that I would be sparring soon, and I was pretty cool with that. I was expecting it to be with him though, since it has just been the two of us there. Not that I mind sparring with the other guy, but I ended up doing a pretty shitty job at it. Apparently, the less I know someone, the less able I am to try to hurt them. My interpersonal skills are just so very fucked.

.....and therefore cannot hit you.....apparently. 

Why Do I Bother?

I think I may have mentioned before how I have this need to understand people. I feel compelled to analyze people's motivations and try to determine what makes them who they are. My sister and I were talking about this the other day; apparently she does the same thing, to some extent. A lot of people don't though, and I find this really interesting. What is it that gives some of us this desperate need to get inside other people's heads while other people really don't give a shit? I mean, it's not like it does me any good. I can understand a person completely, know exactly why they are the way they are, why they do the things they do, and still have absolutely no ability to connect with them. So why the fuck do I bother? Of course, it doesn't help that I most often do this with fictional people, since I get to know them better than I know any of the real people I encounter in my life.

I have been rewatching Hemlock Grove, and I think I've got them^ all figured out now. 

How Did I Get Here?

How did it get to the point where my entire life is nothing but germs and noise? Seriously? Everything in my life is either gross or loud or, in most cases, both. Despite the fact that he was obviously feeling better yesterday, Kaya decided to go ahead and piss on the couch right in the spot where I always sit. So now I have had to wash cat piss of my body twice in the last three days. Also, we have this new kitten (who I have been calling Kilgharrah, after the dragon from Merlin) who is currently living outside but we are trying to convince to move inside. Well, last night when I let him in he proceeded to follow me around screaming at the top of his lungs for fifteen minutes, and then shit in the floor. Then, of course, there are the dogs who do nothing but bark and piss on the chair legs in the dining room, and the pigs who roar like fucking grizzly bears and then splash rancid mud in my face every time I'm near then. Good fucking times.

Please!? I would really like to go now!

My Poor Baby

I had to take Kaya to the vet yesterday morning. See, he always sleeps in my bed with me and the previous night I woke up at 2am covered in bloody piss. So that was a lot of fun for both of us. He actually had this issue once before; at least this time it as on a week day so we didn't have to go and sit at the emergency vet for six hours. Anyway, apparently he has a blood clot in his bladder (which I didn't even know was a thing that could happen) for some unknown reason. I guess they gave him antibiotics while here was there and they sent home some kind of stuff, for me to give him, that's supposed to break up the blood clot. He seems to be doing a little better now, but he obviously still feels like shit; he hasn't given me a single dirty look in two days. Hopefully he will be back to his old bitchy self soon.

This is my favorite (old) picture of Kaya. Because, well, he's a bit of a diva and I don't think he would much appreciate me taking a picture of him when he's not at his best. 

Also, I want to say a public thank you to my dad for paying for Kaya's vet visit, since I am beyond broke. It is greatly appreciated.  

Such Excitement

Last night was the first night of the Mannington Fair which is, without a doubt, the most exciting thing that ever happens in this town. Don't ask me why, because I have no fucking idea. But people come from all over the place to be there. Now, when I was a kid, the fair used to be one of the greatest things in the world to me. Ever since I hit around 13 or so, I realized that it is creepy, depressing, and full of a whole bunch of people who I have absolutely no interest in associating with. So I am just going to do my best to stay inside until the fair-goers have retreated back into their caves for the year.

Again, I'm with Sam. 

I am Clearly Disturbed

Am I the only person who seems to find being in pain fucking hilarious? Probably I am. Something I did at class the other night made just about every muscle in my body sore. Now, because I'm insane, I actually really enjoy the feeling of sore muscles; I think it has something to do with feeling like I worked extra hard or something. This was not just normal sore though, this was makes-it-hard-to-function-sore, which took me from a vague enjoyment of the feeling to actually laughing every time I tried to do something and felt all of my muscles rebelling. I am a seriously twisted person. 

I'm with you, Sam. 

Confession

This post is so late because my dad and I stayed up late watching True Blood last night (then the internet was out for a while this morning) and then we watched several more episodes today. I call this a confession because it is a weird, weird show with a disproportionate number of sex scenes. Honestly, I have seen more boobs and butts since we've been watching this show than I ever have in my life. However, it also has pretty decent story-lines and a whole town full of really great characters.

Two of my favorites being Eric and Pam.

A Rarity

You will not hear me say this very often but I had a pretty good day yesterday. I had my kickboxing class, which always makes things a little better. Shockingly though, the rest of the day actually went really well also.

Yesterday morning I realized that I hadn't read my tarot cards for quite some time, so I did a reading. It was quite insightful and, I think, pretty helpful. I'm still contemplating it, but I think basically what it was saying is that, at this point, I have (mostly) become the person I want to be but that I'm too closed off. I need to let go of all the bullshit and insecurities from my past and let people in more. It also told of good things to come, which I am trying very hard to believe since that would be such a change of pace for me. The terms dream job, new adventures and soulmate were all mentioned.

Then I decided to leave early and go do some clothes shopping before class, since all of my clothes are falling to pieces. The reason my clothes are falling to pieces is because I put off buying new ones as long as possible since trying to buy new clothes is one of the most frustrating things in the world for me. This is mostly because I try to buy used ones as much as possible, both for environmental and financial reasons. I do make an exception for tank tops because Forever 21 (I know, not exactly my kind of place) sells them for under two dollars and they always fit perfectly. Anyway, yesterday I found several of said tank tops, two new pairs of jeans, a pair of pajama/workout pants, and a pair of scrub pants for work. Victory!

Class went really well too. I finally paid for my classes, which was quite a relief. I have been sort of paranoid that something was going to go wrong and I was going to realize that I couldn't afford them. Last night I paid $100 for a punch card worth ten classes. I think it seems like a hell of a deal especially since I have, for the most part, been the only person in class. I'm basically paying ten dollars a week for a personal trainer. I also got complimented on my abilities by three different people including my instructor, a student from another class, and a guy who was working out in the mall.

So, overall.....