Distracted

Sorry I've been MIA lately. I've been distracted with family. Mostly with a dalmatian who decided that I am to be his cuddle buddy. He does not like my laptop being on my lap, and it's harder to type with it on the arm of the couch.

Ace and I now have a radio for our truck (and one month of service). Hopefully I'll be joining him soon (as in the next week, hopefully). It was one of the only things we asked for, and we got it. Go us!

Things are different here, but not a bad different. There are stresses, like the fact that I'm sleeping in the living room, so there is no real privacy. But they aren't hitting me as hard as the stresses of life with Ace's parents.

And I've spent lots of time with my dad, which has been nice.

But Christmas without Ace was not something I want to experience again. I miss him lots, even with being distracted.

And hopefully soon I'll be done with this part of my waiting. Waiting kind of sucks right now.

Wait, the World Didn't End

Okay, the world didn't end and I'm not dead.

But I do still appreciate all those people/groups who rock/make things that rock.

And my dad is pretty high on that list right now.

The World Has Ended!

Just in case I was wrong, I'm writing a post about the end of the world. My biggest regrets: Not seeing The Hobbit and not getting to spend the last days of my life with my husband.

Okay, I would seriously hate both those things, but likely I just forgot that I put this on the schedule for today and I'm fine. Hopefully I'll remember to post after this to prove that I'm fine.

So, the world has ended. That sucks. Maybe it's not a full ending, but the Mayans have come back as zombies to take over and punish us for them all dying off. Maybe my imagination is sometimes morbid. I blame all the cop shows on TV and my love of watching them.

If Sherlock Holmes was real, I'd ask that he try to figure out how I died. I'm betting on either eaten by zombies (or would they avoid smart people?) or run over by some vehicle. If the Avengers were real, I'd ask them to avenge me (and if they can, the thousands of other people who have died as well).

And now, I'd like to thank the following people (or former people, depending on the nature of the end of the world) for making things rock and making things that rock: Neil Gaiman, Terry Pratchett, Wil "Don't be a dick" Wheaton, Martin Freeman, Benedict Cumberbatch, Julie Garwood, John Green, Hank Green, the George Lucas who shot the original Star Wars trilogy, the cast and crew of Firefly, Joss Whedon, the cast and crew of the Avengers, the cast and crew of any show/movie/comic/whatever that Joss Whedon worked on, Mark Gatiss, Steven Moffat, the cast and crew of Doctor Who, the people of ThinkGeek, my fellow bloggers, Ace, my family, my friends, and God.

That list is not in order of my gratitude. And it does not fully express my fangirl crushes on Martin Freeman (Seriously, one of the best actors, with one of the filthiest mouths, around. I've crushed on him since I saw him in Love, Actually.), Neil Gaiman (His writing is enough to make me like him, but his encouragement of writers has me seriously crushing on him), or Benedict Cumberbatch (Have you heard his voice? Or seen him? Or seen him acting? Or heard his lisp? There was no hope for me not having a crush!). Or how much I like stuff that Joss Whedon is a part of (Buffy the Vampire Slayer [show and movie], Angel, Firefly, Dr. Horrible's Sing-a-long Blog, The Avengers, Serenity, and I'm sure Dollhouse, when I finally watch it).

I shall miss all this stuff. Unless I'm still alive and just forgot about this post. In which case, I hope everyone ignores all this random stuff I'm saying, and instead sends me chocolate. (Don't ignore the plea for chocolate.)

Boring for an Apocalypse

There has been a distinct lack of world ending today. I realize the day is not completely over yet (at least not in my time zone), but we are pretty close to the end of 12/21/12 and there does not seem to be any ending of the world happening. At least not as anything more than internet memes and jokes.

But who says the Mayans were counting down to the end of the world anyway? Their calendar just ended. I never assume that the world will end on December 31st, a date when most calenders end each year.

Today was mostly filled with the same boring things happening. I cuddled with my dad and step-mom's dog (He's going to miss me when I leave) off and on. I ate more than I should have of the homemade candy my step-mom made (it was my breakfast today). I spent most of the day reading Avengers fanfic (I still need to see the movie).

It is the most boring way to spend the supposed end of the world. Although, world ending seemed unlikely, so it was a perfectly normal way to spend a Friday.

I did have a fun discussion about wanting an army of magical elves to combat the zombie apocalypse (for reasons) that lead to a Shawn of the Dead reference. I have some cool friends who play into my crazy thought life. It was also that kind of day, really.

And now, I'm going to go read more fanfic in a bizarre effort to convince myself that I should be going to sleep soon. Because my brain is a weird place.

I Do Not Need the Drama

Every time I start to forget most of the stuff about my mom that hurts, she seems to pop back up doing something that hurts. Every time (or maybe it's just lately).

Right now, it's something stupid with her new boyfriend and his granddaughter and it's this big thing, but not for me (she's claiming that's her first grandchild). My brother and sister are upset. They both seem to feel like she's putting this new family before her own. They both seem to be hurting. (My sister is fighting with her, and my brother is not happy.)

And it hurts. Because like it or not, she made those two my responsibility and she's hurting them. She made me feel like the mom, and she's hurting my babies, in essence. And I'm not the only one annoyed/angry/frustrated/helpless in this. My dad feels the same way.

I can't rescue them. I can't fix the past or the present. I know this. And I hate it. And I'd love to say that I hate her for doing this, but really I'm just tired. I'm tired of her forcing everyone else to be the grown-up because she's not ready to be one. I'm tired of feeling like I could have done something differently that would have fixed this, when I know I couldn't have. I am tired of feeling responsible for helping pick the pieces back up (when I haven't done that in years). I'm tired of her dragging me back into her drama when we aren't even in contact.

I am trying, hard, to focus on just learning what not to do as a parent from her example. I am not trying, at all, to figure out her logic. I have better things to do with my time.

But the mama-bear in me is ready to go claw her eyes out.

We Are All a Bit Broken

After yesterday's tragedy, I have a few thoughts. I don't know everything that happened. Even if I followed the news about it and read everything I could, I doubt I'd know what happened.

I have a theory that we, as humans, are all at least a tiny bit broken. Not intentionally. We all start out as perfect, innocent babies, but we are being raised by someone who is broken, and that is going to create some kind of a break in us.

For example, my mother was not ready to grow up and be an adult when she had me. She was broken in that she had been treated like the baby of the family her whole life (she was the youngest of all her siblings). And suddenly, she was supposed to be an adult and raise a child (or three... eventually). So, she did what she could until my father asked for a divorce. And then she just kind of decided that her 13/14 year-old daughter (me) was ready to grow up and be an adult and be responsible for her other two children.

And that decision, among others, caused me to break. In some really odd ways. I feel responsible, still, for making sure my sister and brother are happy. They are both adults (in their early 20s, both of them) and they should be responsible for themselves. And it's not just them. I feel like I should be taking care of everyone. Except when I feel like someone should take care of me for once. I walk a weird line between selfishness and selflessness. Because that's what I learned I had to do around my mother. Give until I had little left, and then jealously guard what little was mine alone so I could keep it. (It does not help that my mother is a liar at times when she thinks she can guilt someone into giving her something she wants/needs. It just creates more towing of that line.)

I don't know why someone would shoot a bunch of innocent kids. I don't know how the parents are starting to deal with this new fracture in their lives. I hope I never know.

But I do know that being so fundamentally broken seems to cause very different reactions in people. I get overly fussy and want to take care of people (except when I want to be taken care of). Some people get stuck in a place where they don't want to grow up and be an adult and find other people to deal with most things. And apparently others can't find a healthy way to relate to their families and cause destruction.

I have a theory that we are all at least a little bit broken. But we should be thankful that we aren't broken in ways that hurt others. And maybe we should look for people who are a bit broken that way and see if we can help some. I know that we can't fix the world, and we may not be able to fix them, but maybe we can stop such tragedies in their planning stages. Maybe.

Great Talk

Last night, my sister and I had a really great talk. We talked about lots of things and we shared things and it was like we have the kind of relationship that I've always wanted us to have.

The conversation, despite being 2 hours long, was not quite long enough. Because there was all sorts of nothings that we hadn't talked about yet. And hopefully, soon, we'll have another talk like that.

My sister is happy, which makes me happy. Things are going well for her. Her fiance seems to be a genuinely great guy. They talk about things, including stupid things that aren't important other than they are what cements a relationship together.

I know that one conversation is not going to make my relationship with my sister perfect. But we shared things that were personal. We found common ground. We understand each other. And that is huge.

She understands some of my decisions better, now that she's older and she has had some of the same experiences that I've had. It hurts to know that she has been hurt, because she's my sister and I love her. But she's strong and smart and beautiful, and some of that comes from growing after being hurt.

Last night, my sister and I had a great talk. And I'm glad it could happen.

Hello from NW Arkansas

So, I am now living with my dad and step-mom. Unfortunately, there have been issues. Not so much with anyone living here. With Ace's truck. He was supposed to be back in it yesterday. Instead, it's in the shop. While Ace is enjoying having time off, we do need him making money again soon.

However, I refuse to let him drive when it isn't safe, and it currently wouldn't be safe to drive his truck. The back light on his gauges works as long as his headlights aren't on. Which is a problem for driving at night. The truck still hasn't been even checked out.

So, we are waiting. And dealing with living in a full house.

On the other hand, I've finally seen The Dark Knight Rises. And I've got nothing to say about the ending, but that I giggled through it. (And how did I forget that Ra's had a daughter? I knew that!)

So, yeah. Life is weird right now.

Talking About My Obsessions...

I am slowly dreaming about each of the Avengers.

It started with a semi-weird dream about me dating Hawkeye. We were at some kind of family get together, and I just knew (the way you do in dreams) that he was my boyfriend. It was nice. Ace didn't care.

Then, I had a dream where I was making plans to spend the afternoon flirting and texting with Bruce Banner. He had a sweet, shy smile on his face. It was adorable.

Last night, I went on an adventure with Captain America. We were trying to rescue somebody (Bucky Barnes, maybe). It was the least romantic of my dreams about the Avengers.

I'm seriously not sure what is going to happen next. But I'm sure I'll dream about Thor, Iron Man, and the Black Widow at some point. I'm a bit obsessed with them when I'm awake, so it's just a matter of time before they invade my dreams.

Do I need help?

I Am Slightly Obessed with Introversion Right Now

Okay, because my brain is obsessed with the introvert thing, and because I am currently waiting (somewhat impatiently) for Ace to drive here from NW Arkansas for us to start the whole moving our stuff around and getting me settled in with my dad for roughly the next month, I am going to talk about how cool my parents actually were when raising me. It's one of the few things I can say that was absolutely positive about my mom. Relish that, because I do.

My parents did not actually push me to be more outgoing (other than to push past that crippling shyness thing). They let me stay home and play with Barbies or read or play with Legos or whatever other thing I was interested in doing. I'm sure there was probably some part of them wondering if I should have more friends, but they let me be me.

I was never asked to be something besides myself when it came to daily interaction with the world. I was left to be my introverted self. And that was great. There was no one trying to get me to change. No one trying to tell me that my personal preference to be at home most of the time was wrong or unusual or not healthy. I was allowed to be myself and flourish in my own unique style.

I'd like to think it's because my parents are a bit more introverted. My mom seems to be. My dad seems more like an ambivert (in the middle between introverted and extroverted). It seems to have helped them be accepting of my own personal desire to have lots of time alone.

Oddly, time with Ace has never felt draining. Which is great, because I like spending time with him. This is actually great for both of us, as we are both introverts and both feel the same about our time together not being draining. Which will be really nice on a truck, as we won't really be able to get away from each other.

So, yeah. Nicely, I have not had some of the problems that other introverts have. Because my parents didn't try to force change on me. And for that, I am truly grateful. It's nice to be able to say something positive about my mom.

Introvert and Shy

I'm sure, if I searched my archives, I'd find where I've talked about this before. But I'm somewhat lazy and I don't want to search to see what I've said about it in the past.

Here's a not so deep or dark confession: I am an introvert. Shocking, I know. I have a blog, where I post anonymously, and over-share sometimes. Who would have pegged a person to do that as an introvert? (Okay, everybody probably would.)

In addition to being an introvert, I am sometimes shy. There is a difference. I know when it's shyness who suddenly rears it's head. I feel awkward and uncomfortable and like people are going to judge me harshly for doing basically anything other than leaving. Shyness sucks. It makes being around people painful for no adequate reason.

Being an introvert means that I prefer to stay home. It means I prefer to be quiet. It means that I have more energy when I'm not around people. It means that I prefer groups of two or three. I feel like you can have a party with 4 people. It means that I can go to larger gatherings, and I'll feel tired after about 2 hours and be ready to go home. Even if I'm having a good time.

Being an introvert can mean having a lack of social skills, but not always. I can usually handle myself fairly well in social situations. Not perfectly, because I can be awkward even without my shyness kicking in. But, in general, I am fairly decent at making small talk (I don't love it, but I can do it).

I'm not sure if it's shyness or introversion that has me posting anonymously. It's probably some part of each one.

I know that no one is a pure introvert or extrovert. I am strongly, solidly, in the introvert column. I almost always hate being in the spot light. Almost always. There are exceptions, but they are rare. Most of them include only being around family.

There is plenty of information out there about introverts. I urge everyone to look and find out more about us. If you are an introvert, it'll help you understand yourself. If you are an extrovert, it'll help you understand the introverts in your life (and yes, you do have some in your life, somewhere).

I'm sure I'll be back with more info about introverts. It's a subject that interests me. Things like: Introverts prefer to write to communicate. That right there explains so much about my life. So much.

Success!

I did post 30 bits of fiction in 30 days. I only wish I had gotten some feedback from someone other than myself. Because I'm not 100% sure that my liking something I wrote indicates it's good or if it indicates that I just like that particular thing.

So, if anyone wants to give me any feedback, I'll be happy to read it.

And now I'll go back to writing about what's going on with my life. Although, occasionally I may post some fiction in the future. If I find myself wanting to.

And now I need to go eat some lunch. Because I've skipped enough meals this year.

Depression sucks (especially when it causes me to skip meals, for weeks/months). I'm glad I'm moving past how badly is sucked me in this year. I don't really want to talk about it right now. I may not ever.

And I'm looking forward to moving soon.

Christmas Songs

"Why are there some songs that are sung as Christmas songs every year when they have nothing to do with Christmas? I can think of one that barely has to do with winter!" Susan said.

"What are you talking about?" Arthur asked.

"My Favorite Things is a song that barely references winter, but it is played every year like it's a Christmas song. Baby, It's Cold Outside is obviously about winter, but it's not about Christmas specifically. Winter Wonderland is another song about winter, but not about Christmas. And yet, the only times we hear these songs is at Christmas. Why?" Susan asked.

"Because we don't usually have winter songs?" Arthur said questioningly. "I don't know. What brought this up?"

"I was just thinking about Christmas songs, since Christmas is coming up. And I realized that I like these songs, but they aren't specifically Christmas songs. I gave Frosty the Snowman a pass because his show includes a bit about him being made of Christmas snow, but his song doesn't mention anything Christmas-y either," Susan said.

"You think way too much," Arthur said.

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Susan's question is bugging me. Why do we have Christmas songs that aren't really Christmas songs?

I definitely think too much sometimes.

I'd like to thank Ace for giving me character names today. He is currently interested in The Tick apparently. (When I first asked for a guy's name, he said The Tick, so I'm not basing it just off of the names Arthur and Susan.) I love my sweet, silly husband.

You Need to Eat

"You need to eat. It's been 13 hours since you last ate, so you need to eat."

"I ate two hours ago."

"You had an apple slice. That doesn't count as eating. You barely noticed you put food in your mouth. You've been living on coffee and sugar too much lately. You need to eat a meal and then you need to go to bed."

"But I'm almost done with this."

"One, you will do whatever you are doing better with food and rest. Two, I know you will find something else to work on when you've almost finished that if I let you just continue on. And three, you look like you are about to collapse into a pile on the floor while you are just sitting there."

"Seriously, 5 more minutes and I'll be done."

"You say 5 minutes, but we both know if I go I'll find you here in 5 hours still working."

"But-"

"I am not above dragging you out of here."

"But-"

"I'm glad your chair has wheels. Here we go, off to find food and a bed."

"But-"

"You asked me to help you stay healthy. This is for your own good."

"Fine. But I don't have to like it."

"I never said you did."

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I'd like to thank writeworld.tumblr.com for the prompt "You need to eat." I have found that I seem to like characters (that other people have written) that are sarcastic and need someone to make sure they actually eat and sleep from time to time. I'm not quite sure why, other than I'm a bit sarcastic (less so than I used to be) and occasionally need someone to make sure I eat and sleep.

Oh my word, I'm Sherlock Homes and Tony Stark without the contributions to society.

No one tell Ace he deserves someone better (given that he usually is the one to feed me and tell me to go to sleep). I know he does, but if we don't tell him maybe he'll let me keep him. I'm kind of selfish that way.

Poetry

The words pour out of the pen and onto the paper almost effortlessly. It's like they had been waiting to be written. And the poem is half finished before the author fully realized why they were writing it.

Later, when the words couldn't be forced out, the author wondered why it had been so easy earlier. Was it the circumstances? Was it boredom? Was it random inspiration? Why had those words been so clear then and now they hid away? And the most important question of all: would it happen again?

Of course, it happened again. With the same questions popping up afterwards. And again. And again. With no fully discernible pattern. But that didn't stop the author from loving the times the words came and the emptying of feelings being poured out with the words. It was healing.

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I am not a huge fan of poetry in general (somehow, it's just not my favorite thing to read), but sometimes I seem to have some poem that flows out of me. And each line comes right after the last, with only a minor effort occasionally to fix something that doesn't seem to be working. And when I finish writing it, I feel better.

I guess most of my writing is somewhat cathartic. At least the writing that seems to flow the easiest. And that's probably the best thing for me.

Different Mistakes

She had hope that she wouldn't make the same mistakes her mother had made when raising her own children. She had no illusions that she wouldn't make mistakes. She had wanted to laugh when her own beloved husband had proclaimed how they would raise their children when they were in public, because she knew that things were not always that simple.

But she wanted to make different choices than her own mother made. She didn't want her children to ever feel like they weren't good enough, if she could help it. She didn't want them to feel like they were broken. Because she knew how much that could haunt a person.

But she wondered if her best intentions would overcome how she was raised.

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Is there a way to not mess up with your kids? Somehow, I doubt there is. Guess that is part of being human.

Leaving

He closed the door to the house behind him. He had sold, given away, or packed everything that had made up his life there. It was time to move on to somewhere he felt the changes he wanted to make would be accepted.

He knew that the people here loved him and he loved them, but he also knew they wouldn't be able to understand how he wanted to live his life. He would come back to visit, but it was time to follow his dreams.

He glanced back at the house in his rear view mirror as he pulled away. He was sad to leave, but he knew he would be happier in the long run.

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Today's story was inspired by the song "I'm Moving On" by Rascal Flatts. I don't have words to explain how much that song has struck home with me at various times. And given that I'm about to move and then I'll be joining Ace in the truck, it's less surprising that I'd be writing about moving so much this month.

The Cake Is a Pie

"The cake is a pie," Shelly said. "I know it's called cheesecake, but it's obviously a pie. It has a crust. Cakes do not have crusts."

"The word cake is in the name. It's a cake," Jack argued. "If they called it cheesecake, it must be a cake of cheese. You don't name something cheesecake and make a sour cream pie."

"You are both wrong," Hank said as he stood in the doorway observing the pair. "It's really more of a custard. Alton Brown proved it. The pie is a lie."

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This was inspired by the line in Portal "The cake is a lie." My brain decided that the line suddenly needed to be the cake is a pie. Maybe I just need to lay off desserts for a while?

Soon

Dear Mark,
Do you know how much I love you? How can you when I've never been able to tell you? It almost hurts sometimes, because I'm just bursting with love for you. I can't contain it all. And it brings a smile to my face.

I miss you terribly when we are apart. I don't feel whole. I feel like I'm missing half of myself. And being apart hurts. You can't just split yourself in half without feeling pain. But what you are doing is important. I could never ask you to do something different just because I don't like being apart right now. Especially when I know it's for such a short time in the bigger picture of life. But I do miss you. Terribly.

There are times I almost forget that you aren't here. I want to show you something on my computer or tell you some stupid story that, if you were here, you would have been there for. I want to share these things, and then remember that I can't. Not right now. And I remind myself that soon we will be creating new stories together. Soon.

I'm beginning to dislike the word soon. But I know that I won't be saying it much longer.

I love you, my dear sweetheart. I love you so much. Words cannot express it. I love you with every beat of my heart and every breath that I take.

See you soon,
Sally

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I miss Ace. But I'll get to see him again soon.

A Cheerful Heart

He tried to be cheerful. He tried hard to continually be cheerful, because he knew that it would help him stay healthier. He tried to not be bitter or hateful. He tried to let go of his anger and focus on the good things in his life.

But there were times when that seemed impossible. Times when he would cry and hurt. Times when he felt like his heart was breaking. Times when he was just so tired. He was ready for a vacation during times like that.

Sometimes, he wondered if people could see through his cheerfulness, when it was a facade. He wondered if they could see how tired he was, how much he hurt. He wondered if anyone bothered to look past the surface. He tried to not dwell on all the things he had lost, instead he tried to focus on all the things he had.

Sometimes, he felt lost inside his own skin and inside his own head. And he just wanted to find someone who understood.

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I think I've just about written myself back into depression. That was so not my intention. I was trying to do something upbeat and positive, based on Proverbs 17:22 ("A cheerful heart is a good medicine; but a broken spirit drieth up the bones." - American Standard Version). So, yeah.

Happy Thanksgiving

In addition to my NaBloPoMo post, I wanted to post to say Happy Thanksgiving.

I hope you have a safe and happy Thanksgiving. If you are traveling this weekend, I hope you stay safe and watch out for animals. One person I care having a near run in with a deer is enough for me. And I do care.

I hope that you get to celebrate with people you love. I wish I was getting to celebrate with my loved ones. Unfortunately, I am celebrating with Ace's family (on Saturday). This provides a conundrum as I am not feeling particularly thankful for that celebration. How does one celebrate being thankful when one is not feeling thankful?

This is the first year I've had to celebrate with Ace's family without Ace being here. In fact, this is the first celebration I've had without Ace since we've been married. I miss him greatly, and I am looking forward to joining him soon. Hopefully I will get to relax while spending the rest of the holiday season with my dad and step-mom.

Anyway, I hope you have a safe and happy holiday if you are celebrating Thanksgiving. And if you aren't, I hope you have a safe and happy day. I hope that for everyday for everyone.

Loki's Problems

"Loki always wanted to be Thor's equal, or at least that's what he said," John said. "Why doesn't he notice that Thor always thought of him as an equal?"

"Because sometimes it's hard to see what is right in front of your face," Mary said. "And just because someone sees you as their equal doesn't mean everyone else does."

"Did he even notice how much Thor loves him? How much fighting Loki seems to hurt Thor?" Sally asked.

"People don't always see what is right in front of their eyes. Sometimes they are too close to a situation," Mary said. "Sometimes someone needs to tell them in order for them to see it."

"I wish Loki had someone to tell him these things. Maybe then he'd hurt less," John said.

"Me too," Mary said.

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Okay, I have a been wondering about Loki not seeing what is kind of clear in Thor (the stuff about how much Thor loves him and sees him as an equal), so this is me trying to answer my own questions. And I think a lot of the movie (and from what I can tell, a lot of The Avengers) would have been changed if Odin had been more honest and a better parent. I take my superhero movies way too seriously sometimes.

Nightmare

The nightmare slowly scared her awake. She'd have liked it if she had woken earlier, before the dream had gotten scary, while it had just been weird. But she had apparently been too tired for that to happen. As it was, when she did wake up she was still so tired that she wanted to just go back to sleep.

Even as she was falling back to sleep, part of her mind protested. She had just had a bad dream. How did she know she wouldn't fall back into it. But exhaustion was tugging hard.

She turned the TV on for background noise and allowed herself to be pulled back into sleep. Hopefully that would be enough to keep the nightmares at bay. And she slept, deeply and peacefully.

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Nightmares suck. And that's really all I have to say about that.

Ballet

As she watched the ballet dancers performing, she pulled out her paper and pencil so she could sketch. She wanted to capture the curved lines of the dancers' bodies. She wanted to show the gracefulness and beauty. She looked back and forth between the dancers and the pictures forming on her paper. She figured she would make a larger, more coherent picture after she was back home.

And while she did eventually make that picture, she liked her quick little sketches because of the fluidity. And she was glad she hadn't stifled her urge to draw.

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The idea of someone wanting to draw a ballet dancer wouldn't leave my head. So, here's a quick story about it.

Good Enough

"The hardest part is figuring out how to let go of the parts that tell you that you aren't good enough. Because everyone always feels like they aren't good enough. That feeling, the one that holds you back, that is how all the people around you feel too. Cut that feeling out and stop letting it hold you back."

Noah rolled his eyes at the self-help non-sense that was playing throughout the shop. It's not that he thought the advice was completely wrong, but he doubted that everyone always feels like that. In fact, he knew there were times he had felt good enough.

"The hardest part is to ignore the part that says I'm not good enough and act," Noah said to himself. "I bet Captain America never feels like he's not good enough."

"I'll bet Cap felt like he let people down and that he wasn't good enough plenty of times," said a stranger with blond hair, blue eyes, and a smile. "He lost men, good men, and that means he felt like he messed up too. But he got up and focused on what he could do to keep from losing more men. Because that's what you do, when you feel like you aren't good enough. You do the best you can."

"Steve, are you coming?" a dark haired man asked.

"I'll be there in a minute," Steve said. "Tell Tony that his project can wait an extra five minutes, Bruce."

Bruce rolled his eyes but turned and left to go relay the message.

Steve turned back to Noah and asked, "Does that help you any?"

Noah replied, "Yeah, thanks. Hey, how did you know all that about Captain America?"

Steve just smiled and shook his head. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you, kid."

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I've been spending a bit too much time reading Avengers fan fiction, I think.

I don't know that we all feel like we aren't good enough all the time, but I know we all feel that at least part of the time. And we need to do better teaching our kids that even if they make mistakes, they are still good enough.

Packing Up

As he packed up the various bits and sundry that made up his life, he wondered what the future held in store. He had plenty of time to pack before he was leaving, but he didn't want to leave things to the last minute. And it gave him time to figure out what to do with one or two things that he wasn't sure about yet.

As his space became emptier, except for the boxes, he wondered how he had accumulated so much stuff in such a short time frame. At least he knew that he could take all the important stuff with him. The books were paramount. The paperwork that filled his desk was important. The other bits and pieces made life more enjoyable, but weren't necessary.

When it was all packed up, he let out a sigh. That was one thing done. And now to move it into storage until he was settled again.

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I've been packing up stuff lately. Does it show? I've got pretty much everything packed, except what I need for the next couple of weeks until it goes into storage. Moving day will likely include a couple of last minute additions to the packed stuff (things I need now, but won't then).

The Couple

From the outside, it didn't look like they had much to keep the marriage together. They were struggling financially and their personalities seemed either too opposite or similar depending on the day. Neither liked the other's family. Everything seemed stacked against them.

But what people didn't realize is that those things that looked like they would rip the relationship apart just brought them closer together. They worked together on a budget to pay all their bills. They talked about the things that they disagreed on until they found points of compromise. They enjoyed the things they had in common. They didn't spend a lot of time with extended family. They stacked their deck to make themselves the winners.

They struggled. All people have some struggles, and all marriages have problems. They disagreed and made mistakes. They talked and talked and talked until it was natural to just talk about everything. They forgave each other. They fixed what they could and made adjustments for what they couldn't.

And when they'd survived things that would have broken other marriages, they knew it was because they had so much respect for their relationship and each other. And they smiled at each other as other people wondered how it was done.

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This is a bit less fictional that a lot of my stuff has been this month. I think I'm okay with that though.

The Kiss

He had barely done more than just press his lips against hers. There was nothing about that kiss that suggested that it would be special or important. And yet, 5 minutes after it happened, she could swear she could still feel his lips.

She pressed her fingers to her lips and smiled. She could hardly wait for the next kiss to see if it would feel the same.

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I think I've spent a bit too long without my husband around.

Dear Jean

Dear Jean,
I'll never understand how things got like this. One day, we were a close, loving family and it seems like the next we were so far from each other. Where did all the anger and hurt come from?

My biggest concern is the children. I don't want them to think that any relationship they get in will be like this. I don't want them to fear loving people. And I don't know how to fix this.

I know I came to this relationship a bit broken. I was honest with you from the start about how I felt and when things bothered me. I tried to mend my broken pieces and leave my past in the past. I tried my hardest to keep working on our relationship, even when it seemed like you were giving up.

I don't blame you for this ending. It was a combination of factors, and one of the biggest was my inability to get past some of my hang ups. I don't blame you for not wanting to drag this on. It's not been fair to you or the children, the things I've put you through.

Please, do me a favor. Learn to love someone else. Don't let our children be as broken as I am. I'll do my best to explain to them why I'm broken and that they shouldn't look to me for how a successful relationship should go. Please be a good example for them.

I'll always love you.

Sincerely,
Dave

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Not quite 100% sure where this came from. But here it is.

Gentle

To look at him, with his big muscles, you would hardly think that the best word to describe him was gentle. But he was. His hands may be large, but he was careful when cupping them around things. It was almost like he was so afraid to accidentally hurt something that he went overboard with his gentleness.

Which is not to say that he never used those muscles. He was protective and willing to stop someone from hurting people, especially those he loved. And he used them to move furniture around as favors to family, friends, neighbors, and occasionally little old ladies.

It was always more obvious how gentle he was when he cupped his hands around babies, to carefully lift them up and coo at them. He almost looked like a big kid, his grin so big. He would carefully tuck them into the crook of his elbow and gently, tenderly, stroke their faces as if the touch would help him learn their delicate features.

And everyone who ever saw him cradling a baby had the same statement; "I never expected him to be so gentle."

She always just smiled at them and said, "No one ever does."

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I was reading something about someone being unexpectedly gentle (in an entirely different way, oddly enough) and inspiration struck.

The Artist

The urge to sketch, to fill a page with pictures, to draw what she sees is almost irresistible. However, she never feels comfortable with what she sees when she draws. It never looks quite right, quite like it does in her head. But that doesn't stop the urge.

Instead, she writes. Words are easier. They are easier to control. She writes and she likes writing. It makes her happy. It comforts her in ways that she didn't realize she needed comforting.

But it doesn't stop the urge to draw.

She knows that with practice she might be able to draw what's in her head. She might be able to be satisfied with her art. That just because it doesn't start the way she wants it to doesn't mean that it won't become that if she practices. But every time she's tried, she suddenly can't think of what to draw. Or she can't find a reference for what she wants to draw.

Eventually, she decides that it doesn't matter if she can't find a reference. She should just start and draw what is in her head. Keep practicing until she gets it right. Keep adding detail and staying patient.

The day she showed off her art and got accolades, she is glad she never gave up.

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So, yeah. Cathartic fiction seems to be where I'm at.

Young

As he held his daughter, their daughter, for the first time, he was in awe. He counted and re-counted her fingers and toes. He stared at her face, trying to memorize the details.

As he looked, he wondered, 'Was I ever this young?'

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I based this off the word young. The question at the end came first, and then I knew exactly how the rest would go.

The Vampire-Pirate Apocalypse of Doom

"Here's the idea: vampire-pirates sailing the high seas and fighting off zombie-ninjas. It'll be a great hit! What do you think?" Zach asked. Zach wanted to be a movie producer. Instead Zach was a convenience store clerk.

"How would the vampires survive on the high seas? They would have to be out during the day, which would kill them. They would have to find blood to suck, which might kill them if they go too long without. And how would the zombie-ninjas be of any use? Zombies don't exactly keep their smarts. And could zombies be stealthy enough to be ninjas? Do the zombies want to eat the vampires' brains?" Andy asked. Andy was content to be a convenience store clerk for now. He was still in high school, so he figured he had years to decide what to do for a living.

"The vampires would obviously have some humans on their ship to help steer it during the day and to have meals between their attacks on other ships. Attacking people at night gives them a great advantage too, no one would expect it. Except the zombie-ninjas. And these are special zombies, they still have higher reasoning powers. They can walk quietly. They aren't rotting corpses. And yes they want the vampire-pirates' brains. All zombies, even the smart ones, want brains!" Zach explained.

"I still don't think that it's going to work. Are zombies and vampires even enemies? I know that ninjas and pirates are, but zombies and vampires?" Andy asked.

"They are two different types of undead things, of course they are enemies," Zach said. "I've even got the perfect title."

"Well, what is it?" Andy asked.

"The Vampire-Pirate Apocalypse of Doom," Zach said.

"Well, the title is great, but I'm still not sure about the rest of it," Andy said. "Maybe it'll grow on me."

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Yesterday, I talked with a friend about writing and not feeling inspired. He suggested writing about zombie-vampires (or vampire-zombies). This actually inspired me at least a little bit. We talked a bit more about the idea of vampire pirates and that their enemy would be zombie ninjas. So, that conversation sparked the idea for this. Thanks, Battle!

Think

He kept finding himself thinking of her. At first, it was because she was so different. As time went by, he found himself thinking about how much they were alike. After their first kiss, all he could think was that he could still feel her lips pressed against his. He wished they could kiss forever.

When he was ready to propose, he realized that he had to tell himself to stop thinking, or he would never get the question asked. When she said yes, he kissed her before he could think about it. Then he realized that he would be able to kiss her like that forever.

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This post is based of the word think. Hopefully tomorrow my shoulder won't be hurting.

It's the Vampires, I Tell You

All I want to do is sleep for the next week. And it seems like no matter how much sleep I get, I never feel rested for long. It could be because I am suddenly more active, it could be because of shifting sleep schedules, it could be because of hormones. But it's most likely because of the vampires.

Okay, let me explain this. See, I'm pretty sure there are vampires stalking me. Seriously out for my blood. I keep seeing strange marks on my skin, and I'm exhausted, and I seem to be getting paler. My mom says it's because I'm avoiding going outside that I'm getting paler, but wouldn't you avoid it if there were vampires after you?

I'm not even sure which type of vampires. Is it the Dracula type? And didn't Dracula die at the end of the book? Is it the Twilight type? Please tell me there aren't sparkly vampires after me! Is it the Buffy the Vampire Slayer type? Can someone get me her number so she can save me, no matter which type?

So, yeah. I'm pretty sure that there are vampires out to get me. And I'm thinking that's why I'm so tired, they are already drinking my blood. Or could it be because I'm not sleeping to look out for vampires who are trying to attack me?

Somebody send help!

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This is a product of my tired brain. I am working on packing up the room I'm staying in and it's tiring me out a lot, so I've been more tired lately. And apparently this has lead to thoughts of why someone might be tired, which lead to the idea of blood loss and vampires. My brain is a weird place sometimes.

The Dance Lesson

Once things settled down and repairs to Serenity had been completed, Jayne finally had time to start wrapping his mind around the fact that River had killed a roomful of reavers while only getting a couple of scratches and a bruise or two that showed up two or three days after the fight had been over. Jayne didn’t normally spend a lot of time focusing his mind on anything but on cleaning his girls, but this whole situation required some reflection. It wasn’t often that you resign yourself to death, especially one as horrible as the way he was expecting to die, only to find you’ve been saved by a slip of a girl. He had seen how she fought in the Maidenhead. He’d felt how good she was with a knife back before Ariel, not that he liked to think on either incident. She had fought with a grace he found odd. He didn’t know that fighting could be so graceful. His fights, while not totally awkward, had never flowed quite as easily.

Jayne had noticed that River was spending time in the hold and it looked like fighting that she was doing. He wasn’t supposed to notice her, he didn’t think, but how could he avoid seeing her when he was exercising? He didn’t stare, he just occasionally observed after he finished his exercising. He would sit on his bench, taking deep breaths, and looked around the hold. When she came into his field of vision, he watched for a couple of minutes before going to the showers to get clean.

If Jayne had bothered to ask River would had told him that she was dancing for the first time in years, since they had started cutting her brain at The Academy. River had noticed that Jayne was watching her. While she was working on blocking out everyone’s thoughts, as much as she could, she still caught a lot more than she liked. She had, well heard is the best word she could come up with, heard Jayne thinking on her fighting technique. She had never given any thought to how her moves might look to someone else, she had just moved in an efficient manner for stopping her opponent. In fact, she hadn’t really given her moves much thought; she just knew where to punch next. She had also noticed that Kaylee sometimes sat on the staircase, watching her dance. She was considering asking Kaylee if she would like to learn how to do some simple dances.

The next time River decided to dance, she noticed Kaylee watching her again. She decided that it was the perfect opportunity to teach her best friend how to dance. She walked over to Kaylee and asked her if she was interested in doing more than watching River dancing. Kaylee nodded with a big smile lighting up her face. River patiently started showing Kaylee the moves to a waltz. Kaylee caught on quickly and River switched to teaching her how to do a simple jig.

Jayne had started toward the hold when he heard the sounds of laughter. He wondered what was causing it. As he got to the doorway, he saw Zoe standing on the cat walk, smiling like she had when Wash had been alive. Jayne figured that whatever was causing the laughter must be a good thing, if it got Zoe, who had been walking around in a funk since they buried the funny little man, to smile it had to be good.

When Jayne got to the cat walk, he looked down at the two girls dancing. He quickly turned around and called to Zoe over his shoulder, “I’ll be in my bunk.”

As he walked off, he missed hearing the confusion as River suddenly stopped and looked up toward the doorway in shock. Kaylee was wondering why her partner was no longer dancing, and Zoe was looking between the doorway and the girls in shock. Then, as quickly as River stopped, she shook off her own shock and asked Kaylee if she would mind stopping right now and picking this back up another day.

Kaylee, concerned for her friend, said, “Of course. We’ve got plenty of time for you to show me how to dance.”

River quickly responded with, “I’ll be in my bunk. I’ve got some things to think over.” She had heard what Jayne had said, both out loud and in his head, and felt the need to mull over it for a while. It wasn’t often that a girl heard that she might be worth getting spaced over.

Zoe sighed as she saw the fun breaking up. She had enjoyed herself for the first time in a few months and was sad to see it end. But she did wonder what exactly River had heard that caused her to stop and feel the need to stay stopped for a while. She shrugged and decided to check back in the hold more often to see when the next dance lesson happened. Since she had just been randomly walking past when she came across it this time, she felt it important to try to see more, as it cheered her up.

Kaylee stared after River for two minutes before deciding to go find her boyfriend, Simon, for some talk and some cuddling. She was glad she found someone who liked to cuddle, as she enjoyed getting some human touch. As she left the hold, she ran her hands over the sides of the ship, giving her a pat while she had Serenity on her mind.

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This is a story I wrote a while back based off the TV show Firefly and its movie Serenity so any most references are to events in one of those. I do not own either, except as DVDs. I wrote this story out of a love for the show. I'm pretty sure this random bit of fluff came to me and demanded I write it at the time.

It is still one of my favorite things I've ever written. It makes me smile.

Art Maybe

"You wouldn't exactly call this art, would you?" the first man asked

"It looks like a pile of junk to me. The museum seems to think it's art though," the second man said.

"I thought art was supposed to be pretty, or at least understandable. This does not make any sense to me," the first woman said.

"No one would steal it, I don't think. At least not until somebody said it was worth millions of dollars," the second man said.

"According to that sign, it is worth millions of dollars. Still doesn't seem worth stealing though," the second woman said.

"We aren't going to steal it. We're just trying to figure out if it's art," the first man said with reproach.

"I wasn't going to steal it, I'm just saying that it doesn't seem worth stealing," the second woman replied. "I don't think it's art though."

"Well, if she won't steal it, it's not art," the first woman said. "She knows her art and she knows what is worth stealing." The two women smiled at each other.

"I don't know," said the second man. "I think Eliot would find it fascinating though."

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Thank you to writeworld.tumblr.com for the prompt "You wouldn't exactly call this art, would you?" This one turned into a sort of fanfic without meaning to. If you can guess the TV show that inspired this, I'll be impressed.

You Can't Fix What Isn't Broken

"We don't understand why you don't trust us. Please, help us understand," the doctor said.

"I don't trust you because you keep trying to fix something that isn't broken. I appreciate that you are wanting to help, but you are no where near where the problems are and you keep trying to fix something that just part of my personality. I shut myself away sometimes not because I'm broken but because I need to recharge myself. I don't get energy from being around people, I get it from being alone," the patient said. "And for the most part, the things that are broken are things you cannot fix because you weren't who broke them."

"But we want to make you whole again," the doctor said, trying desperately to fix this problem too.

"You can't. Sometimes things can only be fixed by the person that broke them. And sometimes the person that broke them aren't able to fix them because they are too broken themselves. Please stop trying to fix things you can't. Just let me be," the patient said, hoping that this time the words would be understood.

"We don't know how to let you be," the doctor admitted.

"And that is why I must go. Because you try to fix things that aren't broken and don't know how to let me be so I can fix what I can myself," the patient said. "Good bye."

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Thank you to writeworld.tumblr.com for the prompt "We don't understand why you don't trust us." This has been surprisingly cathartic to write.

The Dance

They were a study in opposites as they swayed together on the dance floor. Tall and short. Delicate and solid. Dark hair and fair. Pale skin and tanned.

The smiles on their faces matched. And they were poetry in motion.

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I had a word, motion, and that brought to mind dancing, which brought about this little mental picture of two people who look like opposites dancing with matching smiles.

The Wiggling Cake

The cake wiggled, ominously. The table was still and there were no obvious reasons for the cake to wiggle, but wiggle it did. Five adults gathered around it all giggled nervously. They were sure the cake was alive.

They decided to see how the cake responded to being jiggled about. The cake just continued to wiggle. They poked it's sides. It still wiggled.

"I have a plan," Clint announced. Everyone held their breath to hear it clearly. The cake continued to wiggle. "I say we-"

Clint was cut off by Mary entering the room. "Why hasn't anyone cut the cake?" Mary asked. "Give me a knife and I'll start cutting it."

Mary ignored how the cake was wiggling and cut it into pieces for people to eat. As she cut, the cake stopped wiggling. After she finished, Mary said, "I'm going to let people know that we have desserts. I wonder if there was gelatin in that cake. Might explain the wiggling."

After Mary had left the room, Clint confessed, "I'm glad she cut it, I was thinking of using electricity. Who knows what would have happened in that case." Everyone started laughing in relief.

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This bit of fiction was based off a dream I had last night. In my dream, the cake wasn't wiggling, but apparently it had been. And when I woke up, the sentence "The cake wiggled, ominously." wouldn't leave my head.

Dead Letter

I received a letter today. It read:

Dear Alberta Saunders,

We regret to inform you that after extensive testing, your husband is brain dead and not just in a coma. We have repeatedly told you this when you've come to visit him, but it does not seem to be sinking in. We respect that you love and care about your husband, but your insurance company is not going to continue paying us for to keep him alive on life support.

As long as you are willing to pay, we will, of course, keep him alive. However, it might be time to think about pulling the plug. We have counselors available to talk to you about the grieving process and to help you make this decision.

You have our deepest sympathies.


Karen Smith, MD
XXXXX General Hospital

I think it's time to go visit Jack today.

"Hey, Jack," I say as I walk into his room. "I received a letter today."

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Thank you to writeworld.tumblr.com for the prompt: I received a letter today. I am starting to worry about where my brain is going with all these stories. I keep thinking of fairly happy things when I see the prompts, and then when I write, somehow I get depressing with the stories. Hopefully that will change as the month goes on.

Mushrooms and Death

"Those are poisonous."

Lanie dropped the mushrooms she had been gathering as she stood up and looked around to see who had said that. As she turned, she saw a little boy, staring at her with a smile on his face.

"Are they now?" Lanie asked. "Only, I was gathering them up to see if they were what killed somebody."

"Oh, it was the mushrooms that killed him. He was dead before they were forced into his stomach. But they are poisonous," the boy said.

"Who are you? And how did you know all of that?" Lanie asked.

"I observe. Always," the boy said. "And I don't know who I am. They haven't told me yet."

"Who hasn't told you?"

"My parents. At least, that's who they seem to be. Are you going to find the killer?"

"That's the plan. Do you want me to take you back home?" Lanie asked.

"I guess," the boy said with a sigh.

Lanie planned on coming back to gather those mushrooms. Even if the boy was right, they were still needed. She just hoped she got some straighter answers from the boy's parents about who he was. "Come on, kid," she said. "Lead the way."

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I'd again like to thank writeworld.tumblr.com for the prompt "Those are poisonous." I think Sherlock Holmes slipped into my writing a bit today. He wasn't invited, but he showed up anyway.

Cut Myself Shaving

"Is that blood behind your ear?" Shelia asked.

"Yeah, I cut myself shaving. Again. But that isn't really what we're here to talk about is it?" I replied.

"No, I guess not. We need to figure out what happened in England. How did your mission go so cockeyed?"

"Well, it could have happened when I decided that I'm done blindly taking orders from the higher ups. Or it could have happened when I found out they wanted me to take out a perfectly innocent father of three because he opposed us being so involved in what's happening around the world. All I know is that it's not done being all 'cockeyed' because I haven't finished what I've got planned," I said.

Before Shelia could get another word out, I slashed her throat and she was bleeding on the floor. I quickly pulled out the towel I was carrying in my bag and wiped my hands and face clean, glad that my black clothes would hide her blood until I was done. I eased my way out into the hall and headed toward my next target.

"Is that blood behind your ear?"

"Yeah, I cut myself shaving."

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I'd like to thank writeworld.tumblr.com for the prompt "Is that blood behind your ear?" that inspired this bit of fiction. This is way more blood thirsty than I expected. My imagination is a bit scary at times, even for me.

Because Sanity is Overrated

Um, yeah. I didn't quite mean to ignore my blog for so long. Things have just been a bit busier for me lately than I expected. I've been trying to adjust my sleep schedule (not going as well as I'd like, as should be indicated by the time of this post). And around that I've been finding myself reading way too much fan fiction.

That and listening to songs that are a bit too depressing in content to be healthy for my mental state (I, however, seem to be in a good mood despite that).

And this is going to sound silly, after ignoring things around here for roughly 2 weeks, but I'm thinking of doing NaBloPoMo again. Because that's how I roll. Ignore my blog for October, post every day in November, and then go back to being random in posts in December.

Since I think the theme of thankfulness worked so well in the past, I'm going to go with a theme again this year. But not the same one. Instead, I'm going to try to post something fictional every day. Hopefully something not related to any of the TV shows I like, but I can make no promises.

Most likely, they will all be short, but it gives me a new way to stretch my writing skills.

Like I said in the title, sanity is overrated.

Time with Ace

Sorry I haven't posted lately. Been getting ready for time with Ace.

Won't likely post in the next couple of days. I've got Ace until Thursday at 8, so that's a bit more important right now. We're going to spend the next two days celebrating his time off and my birthday. We're getting a hotel room.

I should, hopefully, be in a great mood when I post again.

Later!

Sleep Returns

I feel like I've been a blog tease. I posted a couple of days in a row, seeming like I was going to be posting more regularly, and then I disappear for a week.

Mostly, it's because on about Wednesday, my body decided that it was finally ready to actually get 8+ hours of sleep at a time again. I would say night, but my sleep schedule is such that I'm sleeping during the morning right now.

But I am sleeping. And I'm feeling less exhausted in general. More inclined to close myself up in my room and hide, but less exhausted. I've missed getting enough sleep. I'm happy to finally be catching up.

And I'm starting to get that I need to start listening to classical music to help some with that. The times I've fallen asleep the fastest have been when I've been listening to classical music. It relaxes me so much. Even when I'm wide awake, listening to classical music just puts some part of me in a more calm and relaxed state. Especially Beethoven.

But I'm just happy, after several months of not quite enough sleep, I am finally getting there. Depression seems to have finally let go of the last bits it still had a hold on.

Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go find something on my Netflix queue to watch. This list has gotten ridiculously long and I'm still entirely too likely to find something else to add to it.

More Things I Love about Ace

Since I'm feeling all romantic and loving towards Ace due to our anniversary (not that I'm normally feeling not romantic and loving, it just doesn't normally feel this strong), I thought I'd share more things that I love about him.

1. He is a nerd. Such a nerd. He gets my nerdy references, or he asks about them. And he cares about my answers.

2. He listens to me ramble on and on about whatever I am currently obsessed with. Even if he doesn't care. (Okay, he occasionally tunes out the details, but he listens enough to know the subject.) He cares about my interests.

3. He makes me feel loved. Without really trying.

4. He takes care of the stuff that stresses me out.

5. He wants me to feel pretty. Because he wants me to see myself as he sees me. And he won't give up telling me that I'm pretty until I believe it all the time.

6. He wants to talk to me when we are apart. He wants us to spend time together as much as we can.

7. He got me to play WoW (World of Warcraft) and continues to get me to play WoW. I'm not always sure I like playing nearly as much as he does, but I like that he wants to do something with me that we both find fun.

8. He solves problems that I'm too close to. Easily.

9. He wants children nearly as much as I do. He wants children partially because I want them so much.

10. He's going to be such a great dad, partially because he's such a great husband.

11. He tells me he loves me everyday (baring lack of means to communicate). He thinks it's important that I hear it daily. He often tells me multiple times a day. And he never lets me say it without telling me he loves me back.

12. He loves me even when I'm not very lovable. He doesn't always like me then, but he still loves me.

13. He refuses to let us say things we don't mean and can't take back. And if I do say something hurtful, he forgives me for it. Every time.

14. He fills my heart with warmth and love. Just by being in my life.

15. He is willing to learn new things. He likes learning new things. He may not always be interested in what I am, but he is interested in learning.

This still doesn't scratch the surface of things I love about my husband. But it is at least a few more of the things that I love.

I miss you, sweetheart. I love you! Drive safely, watch out for deer, and take care of yourself. *kiss*

And Much Squeeing Commenced

I am sometimes a bit late to the cool, nerdy shows. Especially if they are on Syfy (I blame it on the change to the name of the station, because I'm pretty sure I'd be more willing to check out their shows if they were still SciFi).

Thus, I am catching up to what's going on with Warehouse 13 on Netflix. And I've recently (as in the last half hour) finished watching the second episode of season 2. The episode where Jewel Staite and Sean Maher guest starred in. Since Firefly is like one of my absolutely favorite shows of all time (and I still mourn that it got not quite a full season), I was a bit excited.

I may have bounced some. And mentally squealed.

Anyway. I loved that they cast those two as a semi-romantic couple. Even if they didn't get together until the end of the episode (better than Firefly, where they didn't get together until the end of the movie). Because of course they would. Those two make a cute couple, at least they do on screen. I'll let the actors decide their own off screen romantic partners (although, they would make a cute couple that way too).

I like that whoever cast them put them together so much in the episode. It worked. Sean Maher works as a guy with a crush who can't quite confess it. Jewel Staite works as a sweet girl who isn't quite as oblivious about showing her own crush. It's adorable and sweet and cute and it makes me want to jump and dance and squeal and be with my own sweet guy.

P.S.: 10 years ago, Ace and I met. Happy anniversary, sweetheart. Thanks for being so right for me all of these years. Drive safely, watch out for deer, and remember that I love you.

It Gets Better - The Depressed Version

Lately, I've been doing things at odd times. I blame my sleep schedule, which is fairly erratic right now. That really has nothing to do with anything, I just thought I'd share it.

I've been thinking on the campaign for LGBT teen community. Mostly with the statement "It gets better." I like that statement. It's a good statement.

I'm adopting it as my statement to people who are depressed. Mostly because some days, some really dark days, that statement needs to be said. So, here it is: "It gets better."

I know that it won't fix your problems or make you feel motivated or make things magically better. I know this. I've been there. Where sitting up is all you are up for. Where changing clothes seems pointless or exhausting or stupid. Where you either eat anything you can get your hands on or you can't be bothered to eat because the food is over there and that's just too far away right now. I have been there. Somehow, I doubt I'll avoid ever going there again, no matter how much I'd like to.

But it gets better. It does. No matter how bad I'm feeling, it doesn't last. No matter how little I care right now, at some point I'll start caring again. No matter how low things seem, it won't stay that way.

I never fully know what will pull me out of my depression. Sometimes it's watching cartoons and funny movies and just putting things that make me laugh in front of my face. Sometimes it's getting reminded of my blessings. Sometimes, apparently, it takes Ace telling me to just grow up and deal with it.

The important thing is that it gets better. I don't stay in that place, where I can barely breath. I find passion for things again. I can take care of myself again. I can tell someone else that it gets better.

So please, if you are depressed, get some help. Find something that works to pull you out. But please, please, please, keep in mind that "It gets better." Don't do something dangerous or stupid. Please.

Not Quite Depressed

I don't think it's been a secret that since Ace started his training, I've been posting less. It's only partly because there hasn't been anything going on. Mostly, it's been because I've been fighting off depression.
. .
The first 6 weeks, I was struggling some. I was fighting depression off, never quite being taken over by it. It was always looming in the background, but I was staying ahead of it.

Then came the week with Ace. I felt good, if slightly frustrated with my in-laws. There was no reason for me to be depressed, so I wasn't.

After Ace left, I went back to fighting off depression. Only not as effectively. I was not up for it, not really. I kind of crashed down into depression. It was bad (I was eating about one meal a day), and part of me was glad Ace wasn't here to see it. Except if he had been here, I'd probably not been depressed. (I lost 9 pounds by not eating. I don't like losing weight that way. Starvation is not a good diet plan. I am eating better now. And healthy foods. Salad, apple slices, cheese, granola bars, beans, fresh bread.)

It got bad enough that one day, Ace was trying to do anything to cheer me up, including offering to call my dad for me to get me to visit him. Even asking if I could just get myself dressed and hopefully my dad could help with packing. I didn't have enough motivation to get dressed. I cried because of that. It was not just a bad day, but a very bad day. It was me at my lowest.

Monday, Ace and I were talking. He was getting all tough love on me (for things other than depression, things I needed to have him say to stop complaining about this). And between that and me figuring a few things out, I finally seemed to leave the depression behind me.

It's still looming. I can still feel it. I'm not fully away from it, I don't think. But I'm not drowning in it anymore. I can see my emotional shoreline. I can get myself to safety again. The undertow no longer has me.

I'm in a weird place. I'm not quite depressed, but I'm not back to normal quite yet either. I think it's a good place right now though. It's a step in the right direction.

If anyone has any tips for helping fight off depression, I'd love to hear them. Preferably ones that do not include me going to a doctor for a prescription. It's not the best option for me right now, even if I think it might be a good plan in the future.

Things I Love about Ace

I was talking to Ace the other day and at some point, I told him that I haven't even begun to get past the surface on all the reasons I love him. So, here are just a few of the many, many things I love about my husband.

1. He makes me feel like a princess. No matter what else is going on, he does his best to make me feel special. Especially when I'm suddenly emotionally needy about it.

2. He buys me things (laptops, books, toys, etc.). Because he knows I want them. And because they will make me happy. As if he wasn't enough to make me happy on his own.

3. He takes care of me. Even when I'm at points where doing much more than eating what is put in front of me is too much, he takes care of me. Sometimes by pushing me outside my comfort zone, sometimes by just doing things that physically need to be done.

4. He won't let someone else push me around.

5. I can make him smile, just by being a little silly. Even when he's having a bad day.

6. He can make me laugh when I want to cry. He always seems to know just what to say or do at just the right time.

7. He's not afraid to be silly. Even in public. Especially if it makes me laugh.

8. He cares, deeply, about people and things. He doesn't always show it on the outside, but it shows if you know what to look for.

9. Even when he doesn't understand me, even when I don't understand myself, he still accepts me and loves me for who I am. Or he loves me despite who I am.

10. He lets me be weak until I am ready to be strong again. Even if he doesn't know why I'm feeling weak. Even if neither of us understands why I'm fighting depression. Even if it's just a bad day.

11. He's willing to do whatever it takes to make me feel safe. Even if it's cutting off ties to people. Even if I don't want that to happen.

12. He cares about those people who obviously want us in their lives. He doesn't feel that people who don't want us in their lives are worth worrying about. He's helping me to move that way.

13. He's willing to do anything, within reason, that I want to do, if it will make me happy. And it's not immoral, illegal, or unethical.

14. He makes me curl my toes. And I'll leave any other details between him and me.

15. He's got the most beautiful heart of anyone I've ever met. Despite how his family has treated him, despite how the world has tried to hurt it, despite how circumstances have been. And he gave it to me. To keep.

This list still doesn't dent the surface, but I think it's time to stop for now. I'll probably post another list at some point, but for today 15 seems like a good place to stop.

Of Dead Batteries and Fevers

Today has been on odd day. Not the least of which is because I've had 4 hours of sleep in the last 33 hours. Although, that hasn't helped (I am surprisingly awake despite my lack of sleep).

I went to my brother-in-law's house for lunch with the in-laws today. I had originally planned on driving myself (and running errands afterward), but the car I was going to use had a dead battery when I tried to start it. Like completely dead. Like nothing happened when I turned the key.

Lunch went well, over all. I didn't eat a lot, but I have multiple reasons why that would be the case. At least I ate enough to get full.

After we got back home, 3 hours later and with my niece, I came back to the bedroom to try to get some more rest (sleep if needed/possible, which it wasn't possible). After a few hours, I decided to take my temperature, because I've been feeling a bit off all day. Turns out, I'm running a low grade fever. Probably nothing to worry about, but enough to let me rest for the rest of the day without feeling too guilty.

Mostly, I have been surprised at how awake I am, given the lack of sleep and the obvious signs that my body is fighting some kind of germs off. Which isn't to say there are no signs of me being tired, just that my body isn't forcing the issue by just shutting down. I do plan on getting more sleep tonight.

In Which I Feel Like a Hypocrite

There have been a couple of things bugging me lately. One is minor, it's pesky, it's annoying more than anything. The other is something that I feel speaks strongly of my heart.

The minor, pesky one is that lately words have not seemed like enough. Words don't express things fully enough. I cannot explain, to myself, to my satisfaction what I mean. This is likely to be something that, while never really going away, will soon fade back into the background of my attention. That's one of the problems with fighting depression. Words aren't adequate enough.

The major thing is the one I really want to write about tonight.

I apologize in advance. Mostly because I'm about to do what I'm about to complain about. I hate that. I don't like being a hypocrite. My only salvation for myself is that I'm not complaining about anyone in particular, but the perception of the whole. This does not satisfy me though.

My biggest problem with Christians, or at least how Christians are perceived (even by other Christians) is that Christians are, in general, a group that judges people (especially other Christians). I say that feeling like I'm being a hypocrite, because I'm judging Christians when I say that. I recognize the irony of judging their judgment. And I recognize this puts me into the group of people that I'm judging.

Anyway, my problem is that the Bible tells us to "Judge not, lest you be judged" (Matthew 7:1). We aren't supposed to accept sin in our churches, but we are supposed to accept the sinners. Somewhere, most Christians seem to lose that. We stop condemning the sin and start condemning the sinner. I'm not saying that people aren't capable of messing up. I mess up most days. I'm just saying that I don't have a right to tell someone that they are going to hell because I disagree with what they are doing (unless I'm trying to save them, I probably shouldn't be telling them that they are going to hell anyway).

It seems to me that this judging goes on in pretty much every area of people's lives. Who am I to tell someone what they can wear? Who am I to tell them what they can eat? Who am I to tell them who they can love? Who am I to tell them how they can love?

I know there are scriptures that cover at least some of those things. But it's not up to me to "enforce" those scriptures. As long as I live my life by what I learn from my Bible, I have no reason to tell someone else how to live theirs. At least, that seems what "Judge not" means to me. I am not their judge, God is. That means that I don't get to tell them how to live. Nicely, it also means they don't get to tell me how to live. Things are convenient that way.

I may not like my sister's tattoos or piercings, but that doesn't mean I should say that she's ugly (I don't like them, at least not the piercings. She's not ugly.). I may be able to prove that God thinks tattoos are ugly (I don't really care to try). That doesn't mean I should.

I may think that the kid on the next aisle should be in bed when I'm shopping at 11 pm. I may not be impressed that he's got a bottle of soda and is screaming at the top of his lungs. I may have lots of scripture on how kids should be raised. It doesn't mean I should judge that kid's parents. I don't know their lives. I don't know if this is normal or odd for their family. I shouldn't judge I don't have all the facts.

I may think that it's wrong for two men or two women to be in a relationship. I may have scripture to back up how wrong it is. I may think they are sinning. But that does not mean I should judge.

God didn't die and make me judge. I have no right to tell anyone (except maybe Ace and at some point our children) how to live. I have no right to tell anyone they are going to hell because they kiss someone of the wrong gender, have a tattoo, are a bad parent, or even just that they mess up. I HAVE NO RIGHT TO DO THAT.

And I have no right to judge Christians as judgmental. I HAVE NO RIGHT.

If I don't have that right, what makes someone else think they do?

Lost

I'm beginning to get annoyed with myself. I'm getting maudlin over here.

It's just hard to feel upbeat right now.

Ace is trying to find out what is going to happen next for him with his job. He's doing a sleep study tonight. We'll find out if he has sleep apnea or not.

Ace's parents are back home. They aren't asking me about my laptop, but they are asking lots of questions about what is going on with Ace. Questions that I don't know the answers to. Questions that Ace doesn't always know the answers to.

I'm back to not wanting to go to sleep. Some part of my brain is trying to avoid sleep, like sleep is my enemy. I'm feeling edgy and cagey. It gets too loud in my head and I just want to stay quiet, because I don't want to say what is in my head. And I know these things are not good things, but I keep avoiding falling flat out into depression somehow.

I'm feeling lost. I can't find my shore. I'm not out too far, but I can't get my bearings. And the waves and the tide keep carrying me on.

My Secrets

I don't share everything here. That is hardly surprising, given that this is an anonymous blog. I don't share absolutely everything with Ace either. That is only surprising in that we share so much with each other.

I want to get some secrets off my chest.

1. Despite facing some of the blackest depression and experiencing things that would make most people break, I am still sane. In all that time, in all those things, I have only wanted to hurt myself physically once, and that was at a very bad time for me emotionally. I, fortunately, got much better shortly after that.

2. Ace and I have talked about him getting a tattoo (or more than one) since shortly after we were married (if not before). In the back of my mind, I've always slightly wanted to get one too, but I HATE needles. Recently, I decided to get at least two tattoos. I'm not fully sure how I feel about it, but I like my reasons for wanting them.

3. There is a small part of me that is concerned that I might possibly decide that it's okay to hurt myself physically to help emotional pain. I feel concerned that getting a tattoo will make me more likely to do something stupid. I know that I'm not going to do it, but that doesn't make me feel less concerned.

4. My in-laws have been out of town for a week. I haven't missed them in the slightest. I was complaining to Ace, while he was here on leave, that they didn't seem to be wanting to leave soon enough for us.

5. Ace and I enjoyed ourselves greatly after 6 weeks apart. Now we don't know when we'll see each other again. I think this is harder than the 6 weeks.

6. Sometimes, my compassion for people goes out the window when they seem to be inviting drama into their lives. It's not that I no longer care, it's just that I wonder when they are going to start admitting that they are contributing to their own problems.

7. Sometimes, it's louder in my head when it's silent outside it. That is a big part of the reason I've watched way more TV shows and listened to way more music since Ace started training. I miss him.

8. While Ace was here, we bought me a laptop. It's all bright and shiny and new. I'm hoping his parents don't realize or just don't think about it.

I'm sure I have more secrets to share at some point, but for now I think I'm a bit taped out. Or rather, I've shared all I need to share.

Later.

Quiet Still

My head has gotten quieter. But I'm still feeling quiet myself.

My emotions are up and down. Sometimes within a span of 5 minutes.

And there aren't words enough to explain everything. Words can be so limiting sometimes.

So, I'm over here, being quiet.

Quiet and Loud

Everything has seemed to be a mixture of opposites lately. I feel like being very quiet. It seems very loud in my head. I am surrounded by people. I feel alone. I am tired and just want to sleep until my body has finally caught up on rest. I find it hard to make myself to bed and then to go to sleep.

The biggest thing is that I just want to stay quiet and unnoticed for the most part right now. "Just leave me be. Let me take care of myself. I don't need a lot of help right now, thank you," some part of me is practically screaming. "Oh, but can you provide me with something to make it quiet in my head? It is so loud in here."

And every time I get still enough I start thinking about things I want to leave alone for now. Which just adds to me wanting to be practically falling asleep before I try getting into bed. Which leads to being exhausted, something I haven't really moved past since Ace left.

My emotions, while not completely raw, are fairly close to the surface. They feel uncomfortable. Silence seems to be too quiet, because it makes it easier to realize how loud it is in my head. And I don't have any answers for anyone right now, except that I'm not really ready to figure everything out yet.

I'm ready to be past all this crappy mental state. I miss feeling comfortable in the quiet. I miss having a calm and quiet mind (not that it's ever really fully quiet, but it's normally not so loud). I am ready for the world to not seem to be quiet so painful to me mentally and emotionally.

I think I'll just mostly sit here, distracting myself with things that make me laugh, and stay fairly quiet until I'm feeling more whole. Maybe then, my world won't seem quite so odd then.

Less Twitchy, More Tired

The twitchiness seems to have dropped down a bit. I'm still way more raw emotionally than I'd like to be, but it's at livable levels over all.

On the other hand, my insomnia has not really left. On the plus side, I should fall asleep early and easily tonight (I have an early start to my day tomorrow). On the minus side, I think I've been having some minor problems focusing while reading my library book.

Also, I've suddenly gotten very obsessed with the show Sherlock, the writings of Arthur Conan Doyle about Sherlock Holmes, and British slang is starting to feel more natural than Oklahoma slang.

I'm starting to want to call the television the telly. I had to remember what a subway was before I called it the underground while talking with Ace. (We were talking about New York City. Oklahoma has no subways as far as I know.)

Basically, I need sleep and I'm obsessed with Sherlock Holmes in just about any way I can get him.

I think I need sex. How long until I see my husband again?

Twitchy

Today I am feeling twitchy. I think it's partly a lack of enough sleep lately. On a good night, I get 6 hours. That sounds like plenty, except my body prefers to get about 9 hours of sleep. I am tired a lot.

Also, I started my period. Completely expected thing to happen. The timing is even right. But the hormones have me on edge right now. I can practically feel my nerves wincing about everything that is happening. But reading about infertility while being on your period does not make life sunshine and roses (sometime, I'll actually find out if Ace and I have fertility issues, but not until we take care of x and y and maybe z).

Oh, and I woke up with my shoulder aching and my fingertips numb.

And I'm missing Ace like crazy.

And my father-in-law, who has toned down his affection, is still being more affectionate than I'd like.

And I'm trying to just relax, but it's not really working. Because that stupid driving test is looming in my vision again. And I know I can pass it, but there's a small part of me that keeps wondering if I'm not letting myself.

In other words, I have about a dozen reasons to be twitchy right now and they are all hitting me at once. Depression keeps breathing down my neck, looking for a week spot to pounce on and drag me down into its depths.

So, if you wonder why I'm not posting here right now, it's because I'm fighting off/dealing with all that stuff.

*Twitch, twitch*

Depression Sucks

This past week, I started seeing the signs of depression coming on. It's not fully surprising, I'm missing Ace a lot and they shift in how his parents, especially his father, are acting would throw anyone.

I've noticed that right before depression pulls me down, I start having insomnia. I can't convince myself to go to bed and go to sleep. I don't know why, but it's like I'm suddenly afraid to go to sleep, afraid of my dreams (none of which I can remember being particularly bad, but...).

I'm not sunk down as far as I have been in the past. I'm having what feels more like bad emotional days (and exhaustion from the lack of enough sleep). The biggest things are a lack of motivation to do something as basic as feed myself and a feeling so raw/tired/sad all the time. But it's not controlling me (other than the not eating enough thing).

Good news keeps coming in. Slowly. Any bad news is temporary set backs. Nothing to make life suck completely. But enough to make it easier to feel depressed.

The only good thing about Ace having the laptop is that if I want to get online (and I do), I have to get off the bed to do it. Which means no lounging around on the bed in a cocoon of blankets letting myself slip further into depression.

I miss Ace. I miss not being tired, although that will disappear as soon as my body starts working with my brain on sleep instead of against it. I miss just being generally happy.

But I'm so close to finally, finally starting to get back to things being where I want them to be. And that makes me happy, deep down.

Depression sucks. But I'm stronger than it is.

Unwanted Attention

Ace is currently in training. He seems to be enjoying it, as far as I can tell. At the very least, he isn't hating it.

I, on the other hand, am stuck at his parents' house without his protection. And suddenly my father-in-law has decided to pay a lot of attention to me.

So far, nothing "inappropriate" has happened. Other than I don't want him paying this much attention to me and he keeps touching me without me feeling comfortable about it. He's not touching any place that people would claim is inappropriate. However, if I feel uncomfortable with his touches, it's inappropriate. It bothers me.

My father-in-law is very outgoing. I am an introvert. He likes being around people. I can get enough socialization with one meal to feel content with being alone for roughly a week. Also, it's taken him over 9 years to start trying to open up and welcome me into his family?

Supposedly, he hasn't felt like I've wanted to belong. He's been right about that a lot. I have hidden behind my husband often. My in-laws pry and push and make me feel uncomfortable. I keep lots of things private, because I don't feel like they need to be public. Going out to a meal and talking for an hour makes me uncomfortable (at least it does with them). Forcing physical contact is unreasonable. All it's going to do is drive me away.

I want to be out of here. I desperately want to be out of here. I want to be around my father or Ace, who both understand better my desire to be quiet and left alone. That I'm not big on being touched just whenever someone else feels like it. I want to be around people who understand that sometimes people don't want attention or contact. I want to feel like I don't need to shut myself off just to know that I'll be left alone.

Every time my father-in-law comes into my bedroom to "check up on me", it feels like he's invading my sanctuary. I don't have any place that is safe for just me while I'm living here. That isn't fair. Everyone deserves privacy. And while he doesn't just barge into the room, he also doesn't respect any personal space when he does come in. The only way to keep he from moving past just the doorway is to stand in the doorway, which then puts me in arms reach for more unwanted "affection".

When I leave here, I don't plan on coming back except to get my things moved out. I don't want people who have spent over 9 years feeling like I should make the first move to prove I want to be part of their family. Who makes the new person coming make the first move? And didn't they take me spending time with them while I was dating Ace as an indication that I was trying to, at least sort of, fit in?

I'm just ready to be done with all of this crap. And I just really want to be left alone.

Missing Ace

Ace is at his second day of orientation. Hopefully today is going well.

I miss him. This time has been slightly harder than last time. There is nothing coming up to distract me. It doesn't help that I miss my laptop too.

For now, while I still have access to it, I'm spending lots of time on Netflix. It helps keep me distracted. In fact, when I'm not on Netflix, the TV is on. I can't seem to feel comfortable with silence right now.

I miss my husband. But I know that he's going to be making us money soon. And we need that to happen.

It doesn't fully make this separation easier.

Quiet

Things have been mostly quiet around here lately. Ace is getting paperwork moving for starting a job next Sunday with a trucking company. I am doing my best to stay as cool as possible (the replaced a/c can't quite seem to handle the 100+ degree heat).

Everything is in a sort of holding pattern right now. There is only so much Ace and I can do this early in the week to get him ready to go. So, we're just relaxing.

Tomorrow is our anniversary. So far, our plans include getting some ice cream or custard. And that's about all we have planned. Is custard the traditional/modern gift for 9 years?

Things are quiet right now. But it won't be long before they get busy again. For now, I'm going to go enjoy the quiet.

No Answers

Last Friday, I went back to truck driving school. I needed to shake off the rust from roughly 30 days of not driving. I spent 4 days working on backing and driving. I learned a lot, and felt frustrated and sore and then on Monday successful. I felt ready to take my test on Tuesday, which was a change from the last time.

I really don't want to talk about that test yesterday. I've got another 30 days before I can test again. It wasn't that I couldn't do the backs (which is where my problems cropped up). There seemed to be some problems with the equipment I was given and I wasn't experienced enough to compensate. I'm surprisingly okay with everything.

But that's not what I wanted to talk about. That's just me updating about what's gone on while I've been away from the blog.

While I was at school, I was asked lots of questions about who Ace and I were going to work for and if he was already driving or waiting on me. I had people asking why Ace wasn't at least working a local job. I had answers for most of the questions, but not all of them. We are still trying to figure things out and some things were complicated.

People keep asking me questions. I don't have answers for them. And I'm feeling frazzled and tired. I don't know any more. Asking me what I want for dinner is kind of too much right now. I don't know and I need to not have anyone ask.

I'm feeling a bit empty. I'm not angry, I'm not particularly frustrated, I'm just mostly numb. The world can just hold onto its questions for a while. They don't need me to attempt to answer them today. Maybe I'll have some answers for them tomorrow.

But for today, let me be.

It's Because I'm So Popular

My dreams have a surprisingly large guest cast.

Last night, Marilyn Milian, the judge on People's Court, showed up. She's not the first TV judge to show up in my dreams (that would probably be Judge Alex Ferrer who showed up a few weeks ago).

And it's not just TV judges that make randomly show up. Some of my favorite bloggers have too. Amy Storch, of Amalah was in my dreams a few years ago (trying to convince me that I should get pregnant, as if that wasn't already on my mind). Anissa, of #FreeAnnissa, showed up to try to convince me that I am cool enough to potentially met my favorite bloggers and hang out with them someday. My friend Jenna, of The (Mis)adventures of Jenna, even showed up for us to talk through a class her husband was trying to teach (about something Biblical, I think).

And despite other's predictions, the only instructor from school showing up in my dreams is the one I'm friends with on FaceBook (he was oddly teaching us how to drive a car, something I already know how to do).

The only person who doesn't seem to show up in my dreams is Ace. The only thing we can think of is that he gets so much of my awesomeness during the day that my subconscious feels like it should be spread out among other people at night.

Air Conditioning

The air conditioner is fixed. I don't know what was wrong with it, but I did get to hear how much it would be yesterday. I don't remember how much cost, which is fine because it's not me that's paying for it.

It took most of the night to cool the house down, but now it is back to normal temperatures in the house.

And I'm back to fighting off exhaustion again. Because my body hasn't seemed to fully get away from heat exhaustion yet (if they had fixed the a/c the first time it broke...). Nicely, food helped a lot on helping me feel less exhausted. Unfortunately, that only lasts so long and I can only eat so much before I'm full.

But at least I'm not trying to stay as cool as possible in a 90 degree house (it's not possible to stay cool in a 90 degree house, even with 3 fans helping). Yay for a fixed a/c!

And now I've got other things calling for my attention.

Later.