Sunday, December 30, 2012


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.

Saturday, December 22, 2012

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.)

Friday, December 21, 2012

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.

Monday, December 17, 2012

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.

Saturday, December 15, 2012

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.

Wednesday, December 12, 2012

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.

Sunday, December 9, 2012

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.

Wednesday, December 5, 2012

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?

Tuesday, December 4, 2012

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.

Monday, December 3, 2012

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.

Saturday, December 1, 2012


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.