Fuck me I spoke too soon

No I do not fucking get it.

And you know, just to avoid the drama, just to avoid the questions, just to avoid my stupid stupid need to chase an answer that probably doesn't exist - I hope that woman on the phone had the wrong Brian Hughes.

11:18 PM - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

*Now* I get it

Myspace just deleted my entry.  I feel like that retarded girl from the old Apple ads.  Oh well.  Here we go again.

I haven't gone to sleep yet but since I don't feel as how that's detrimental I guess that's ok.  I've been left to my own devices for this entire day and evening, and I was told that I could find a cask ale nearby which will definitely help digest some information, or at least be a good aid in mulling over it.

I've been told lately that the reason my dad and his side of the family "abandoned" me was to protect me.  I use "abandon" bitterly because my mom did everything she could to facilitate the separation.  Of course, nobody would know the events that would conspire after my dad's exit due to the man that came along after him.  Heh.  Protect me indeed.  From what?  What could have been worse than that?  Maybe I'm better off not knowing.  I'll concede to that.

Obviously there was nothing my dad or his family could have done afterwards so they stayed away, guilt ridden, until they either disappeared or died off. 
My dad included. 

If only the fun had ended when I was a child.  But no, there were years of fucked up harrowing situations that would have not occurred had my father been around, doing things that fathers would presumably do to protect their daughters.

Of course, I've been a little mad about it over the years.  Just a tad.

My dad's brother made a fleeting impact on my life and told me about the sordid depression most of them failed at living through and that sort of thing.  For this long I thought maybe that's what it was.  They didn't want me to turn into them.  I'll bite.  I'd rather not turn into them.

I set out to learn about my dads family via invitation from a relative of his whose existence I was unaware of until recently.  I don't know why I accepted the invitation because the whole time there were red lights and sirens in my head indicating that I should *not* be a part of this at all.  I guess I ignored the warnings for all the times I heeded to them in the past and lost opportunities because of it.  I guess I wanted to go through this door before it permanently locked itself like many others.

There's so much more information than I could have imagined.  As well as a vast variety of it at my disposal.  I remember at my dads funeral my uncle told me about a woman in our family who was devoting a good chunk of her life tracing our ancestors.  I've always been skeptical about that sort of thing and figured it was a waste of time because how far back can they really go if you're a white girl in America in 2008?  Unless your great grandparents came off the boat, you will likely just trace your family back to the east coast around the time of a war like the Revolutionary and the information will become scarce or disappear completely around the 1600's on a plantation in North Carolina.  Boat registries were often inaccurate because it looks as though they guessed on a lot of passenger information, on top of the fact that immigrants could give whatever name they wanted or if they were Irish, Scottish or Welsh immigrants coming to another chunk of land controlled by the English - they were wise to give an English name assuming they weren't being sent here as indentured labor.  I expected to find out nothing useful.  Certainly nothing interesting, and no large quantity of information.  Being the history nerd I am, I didn't expect to find anything of note or importance.  Most importantly, I didn't expect to find anything to explain why the Hughes line is so jacked up crazy to begin with.

Was I ever so wrong.

2:07 PM - 2 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

Je Suis Prest

Off I go for weird family stuff.  Might as well suck it up and savor it.

I'll have Saturday night to wander aimlessly.  Text me 818-941-3959.

8:20 PM - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

Irony

Of course this week is just flying by, now that I wish it was still Monday and not the weekend.

It's going to be an interesting trip indeed.  At least I have a beer map.  Too bad I can't read maps so I'll probably get drunk and lost by myself.

9:15 PM - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

My cat is a drunk

Yes.  You read it right.  No.  It's not a metaphor.

Isla begged me to make her some fruittastic sangria blanca, so I threw it all together last night and we dug into it tonight.  It's excellent by the way.  I set my glass down, not realizing little Chinaski over here is a boozehound, and not 2 seconds later she had a foot and her head in the glass slurping up the wine.  I took my glass back and got a new one and thought nothing of it.  Five minutes later I lift the glass to take a drink.  Super alky cat LUNGES over my shoulder and knocks the fucking thing out of my hand and proceeds to lap the spilled beverage up off the floor. 

I hope she gets a wicked hangover.

10:19 PM - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

Doctors are smarter than me

The kidney medicine I'm on fucks with random levels in my body at random times.  The most inconvenient one being my blood sugar level.  I wanted to be sleeping 2 or 3 hours ago, but my blood sugar was low and I felt crappy.  Because the medicine also makes me not hungry, despite my orders to make sure I eat plenty while on it, I only ate a little bit this afternoon.  I conceded to the need to eat despite the lateness of the hour, because what does time matter if I'm going to feel like crap for the duration.  So I eat and drink a little something suited to evening out ones blood sugar...and now I feel like crap because it doesn't take much to make me feel so full to the point of feeling sick - only I haven't quite figured out where exactly I stop before my body is ready to cut me off since it's a side effect of medication anyway.

So I still feel like crap, and I'm still awake.

Also, I'm randomly sweaty.  I'm sitting outside in as little clothing as possible before it is deemed inappropriate.

And my calf muscles keep spasming.

Plus my chest hurts.

I also feel really dizzy.





So yea.  I guess I'm trying to remember why I thought the medicine route was better than the MAJOR INVASIVE SURGERY route.


You win again doctors.

1:50 AM - 1 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

Shenanigans??

IT CAME IT CAME IT CAME IT CAME!!

My important package arrived.  Aside from the key part of the package, I got all excited about the slide (one you view under a microscope).

My eyes are burning and watering possibly from garage dust....or too many video games in my free time.

I hate indirectly conversing with somebody who does not give a shit about anything that I'm saying.  What's worse is I hate *wanting* to converse with sombody who does not give a shit about anything that I'm saying.

I'm doing "psych" consultation on a script..for very little compensation save for a bit of cash and a consultant or editor credit.  This should be fun.

OH HEY!  I used algebra last night.  Also, I miscalculated.  That's right.  Right in the middle of realizing that I miscalculated x, I was smacked in the face with the consequences of miscalculating x.  You win again math. 

That's right.


You. Win.

8:14 PM - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

Friend to birds, not to kidneys

So I guess I'm kinda taking care of a dis(mis?)placed carrier pigeon.  How does that even happen?  (S)he's HUGE and no wonder, (s)he's been eating all day.  So...I don't know where that's going to go.  Should be interesting.

I need kidney surgery (yay).  That should be fun (not really).  I either have one too many valves connecting my kidneys and bladder (extra pee!) or I have enough and it just needs to be re-implanted.  Obviously this isn't just something I decided I was going to do upon awaking one morning.  It was not without excruciating pain, harrowing amounts of vomit, and probably even some hallucinations.

Long story short:  Chronic kidney infection leaves massive amounts of scar tissue on right kidney.  Infection moves to left kidney, dr doesn't want it getting scarred up like the right one.  Surgery is the only answer being that the medication I could be taking for this makes me DEATHLY ILL.

How do I know it makes me deathly ill?  Because I've been on it for a week and it makes me SO SICK that I want to KILL MYSELF.

I've stopped taking my medication.  I don't like pain and rotting kidneys, but I don't like vomiting myself into severe dehydration either.  Lose/lose I guess.

So more on both of these things as I figure them out I suppose.

11:44 PM - 3 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

The Lateness of the Hour

My Dearest Insomnia,

When I first met you at the tender age of 14, I was totally into you.  I was young and impressionable and I knew you had been doing what you do for a long time.  You were in your element, and I was fresh.  I thought it was hot.  You totally rocked my s0xxorz.

Because of you I learned so much more in the wee hours of the morning than I ever did during normal godfearing working folk hours.  The dead calm of "sleepy time for everybody but Erica" was  a doorway to a world that existed for you and me.  There was nothing I couldn't do.  Except sleep.

You gave me the ambition to do the million and one things I've always wanted to do, but never got around to because during normal people hours I was always too tired to do much of anything.  If not for you, I would have never pissed my mom off trying to turn the bathroom into a darkroom.  Without you, I might have never discovered my stepfather's collection of what can only be described as "fucking scary" knives.  I bonded with my dogs in a way I may not have without you simply because they thought I was an intruder tip toe-ing through the house at 4am. 

Not only were you my drive, but also my artistic inspiration.  Who knew that painting in the dark could be so much fun?  There are 4 years worth of literary magazines shelved away in the library of McCluer North High School that would be a little bit thinner had you not been there supporting me, driving me, to fill them with angsty teen drivel.

You were a loyal companion, accompanying me wherever I went.  Never hesitant to be whisked away on one of my crazy whims.  Even when I was alone, I wasn't truly - because you were right there with me.

Then I learned that I wasn't your only companion.  Hmph.  I started hearing stories of other people I knew and their sleepless nights, and I knew you were somehow involved.  I was always suspicious that you were ungrateful of my love but I could never catch you in the act.  I grew bitter.  I let you hang around, but my family and friends knew there was something wrong.  They pressed me all the time to get rid of you, and some of them even set me up with a new companion.  Sleep.  I found it hard to let you go, despite my intense and growing love for Sleep.  Sleep and I snuck around.  The lateness of the hour increased, along with my bravery.  It wouldn't be long before I was in the soft, comfortable arms of sleep.  Sometimes for only a few short hours, sometimes for many - over and over again - before I broke away anticipating our next night together.  I knew it was wrong.  I could feel it in my head and body most of the time but god help me I couldn't stop.  Sometimes I would go back to you, Insomnia.  But it was never the same.  Where we used to grow and create beautiful things together, we just lamented and magnified the awful things in life that we could not stand to the point where I could no longer enjoy nightfall whether it was spent with you *or* sleep.

So, Insomnia, it pains me to say that, as I am anxiously frozen on the tightrope that is between my mid 20's and late 20's, this is where you and I must part ways.  Where I've gotten older and matured greatly over the years, you have stayed the same.

Please stop stealing my late night hours, and please stop hanging around here every night forcing yourself on me.  This will never make me take you back.  I'd like to be friends, but to do that I have to miss you and I simply can't do that if you wont go away.  I don't want to hurt you, but I can't keep hurting myself.

I will never forget the good times we had together, but I can't forget the bad times with you still here..doing what you do.

Please understand,

Sincerely,

E

2:25 AM - 2 Comments - 6 Kudos - Add Comment

Let your earth quake baby

I guess I'm past due for an update mostly because I'm not really talking otherwise.

I think if I didn't live with people I probably wouldn't talk to anybody at all.  I'm really not trying to avoid or ignore my friends I'm just too tired.  Any means of communication becomes more difficult when my phone only works 2/3 of the time which makes it even more exhausting.  Honestly sometimes just saying words wears me out.

I'm really tired.  Obviously.  I don't really feel good.  Things hurt, and that's no fun.  Right now breathing hurts, and I'm never hungry.  I've been to the doctor, I'm going again, and I'm too tired really to care about it.  I'd really rather just ignore it because acknowledging it puts it in my path and I either have to go up and over it or around it and either way it's extra distance I wouldn't otherwise travel if I was able to just ignore and sleep through everything.

I'm tired already, and my mom is tired too and I'm taking on her exhaustion even though I know that accomplishes nothing.  Earthquakes wake her up in the middle of the night while she's dreaming about my grandmother.  She calls me at work in the midst of a mental breakdown - while operating a heavy machinery (her car).  I will never rush her off the phone, and thankfully my job is lenient.  She knows full well I am busy/sick/tired/etc. which causes her to apologize profusely between sobs which makes *me* feel worse.  I in no way am bothered or inconvenienced by my mother, nor do I begrudge her any kind of release or comfort.  I just wish she didn't have to feel this way at all.  I already feel this way, because my grandmother and I were so very close.  We were closer than my mom and I are.  Because I wish she didn't feel this way, I feel it twice as hard because I'm devastated at *her* loss as well as mine.  I think up to this point I've put her grief at the forefront of my mind and set mine on the backburner.  It's beginning to intermix and become overwhelming.  Because I don't know how to show grief, I just get lethargic, tired, anxious, and anti-social.

So to make a long story short, I'm tired as hell and I never sleep well and my phone is a ridiculous piece of shit.  I don't really know how to become anything else and all I can do is hope that my phone service works or my $.20 worth of minutes is enough every single time my mom has a breakdown on a busy freeway.

12:32 AM - 2 Comments - 3 Kudos - Add Comment