Meh

Jul. 25th, 2012 08:07 pm
air_n_darkness: (Default)

Yeah, I am all kinda done with life right now. Fuck everything. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Gonna go curl up in a ball and hide now.

Posted via LiveJournal app for iPhone.

air_n_darkness: (PoOrose)
The world has seen fit to remind me of late that one cannot exist in a vacuum. For my own comfort and sanity, I would have preferred for said reminder to have taken a different shape, but if needs must, then needs must. I have ever trended toward the road that leads toward forgetfulness, that walled path where I might keep those memories, errors, and pains upon which I would rather not dwell at careful distance, only glimpsing them through the occasional viewing alcove. I lose myself- willingly, I must add- in the comfortable persona I have developed over the years. I am seldom myself and more often what others need me to be in any given moment.

Not, I must add, that I am not also myself. I am more myself at this moment in my life than perhaps I have ever been. In the nearly two decades since my world shattered, I have grown much. I fell, fell hard, and more than once. I don't fear falling anymore, failing, perhaps, but not falling, and even failure is not the great death that it once was for me. I am at my core a survivor. I may not enjoy what I must do to survive, but survive I will. Admittedly, survival over the past years has led me to strange places and stranger companions, but there is little I would wish away. Even the pain of that first loss must always remain for it was the catalyst for so much.

I have never been a religious person, though I have always been a student of religion. I was brought up loosely as a Christian, mostly in a "that is the way it is done, so that is the way you must do it" way. I attended many churches, mainly for the company of friends. When one grows up in the country, and Town is small in size and mind, one clutches to what social circles might present themselves, you see. I also tended the ancient triangle of oaks in the backyard, sweeping careful paths around them, and leaving the center of the grouping open for I knew not what. So while there was always some structure of religion in my life, there was always magic of a sort as well. I always felt my prayers were stronger when spoke to earth and sky rather than my folded hands at bedtime. Still, I found the structure of religion appealing at the time, nearly as appealing as the company of my friends, and so I went, and I studied, and I considered.

Looking back, I understand more of why I was drawn to the idea of a structured religion. Growing up in a household always in flux, I needed something to ground myself with, to lose myself in. It never quite took, though. I would attend or awhile, then stop. Wash, rinse, repeat. It wasn't until I was in high school that I truly realized that I attended for the camaraderie, not for spiritual enlightenment. Certainly there was something else out there, and that something else might well include a capitol "G" god, but that god wasn't something I needed or even wanted.

What I wanted was magic.

Not "cauldron boil and cauldron bubble" magic, mind- I wanted what I had as a child, the connection to light and life and dark. The road to my present as far as that connection is convoluted, confusing, and already chronicled in part in this journal. I'm rather secure in myself, in my power and in my path now, something I couldn't say but a handful of years ago. I have no religion, and I follow no deity, and I have found my magic. I suppose I have found something of a spiritual path as well, though the term leaves a poor taste on my tongue. Much like using the term Pagan to describe myself does actually- I find it overused, trite, and more or less meaningless. I'll use the words to convey the base idea of myself to others, but don't claim them for myself.

A friend gave me a gift not long ago, a rather valuable gift of a calm space. That may sound like a strange thing to say, but it is not so strange if one understands that I have no resting state. I am always in some state of low-to-mid-level agitation, unless I have managed to take enough medication or imbibe enough alcohol to put me down. It is why I don't rest much when I sleep, among other things.

I have started taking advantage of that gift, sitting outside on my front stoop, a candle on the table beside me, bare feet planted on the bricks of my small, calm courtyard as I look between a triangle of trees at my small patch of night sky. Within the house, I leave music playing, and I can just hear it through the door upon which I am leaning. My courtyard sits on a crossroad, with all that entails, and in such a place, in such a state with such steady calm I simply can't allow my mundane troubles to burden me. At the same time, I am reminded of other obligations, and grow contemplative. I am forced to admit that there are things in life I really do miss, and that, perhaps, they are worth risking myself for.

Time will tell, I suppose.
air_n_darkness: (worship me)
Well, my vacation has started, and in a few days I'll be off to yet another Botcon. I look forward to the con every year, but I look forward to the people I see there more.

In other news, life is strangely good for me at the moment. Terrifying and tenuous, but good.
air_n_darkness: (sidekick)
I would just like to say that despite my slightly depressing ruminations of earlier in the week, this week in and of itself has been a very good week. Socialization (the human contact kind, not the instant message kind) can do wonders for one's mood. I still wonder if I'm not being terribly pushy or needy or imposing, but that's what happens I suppose when you've essentially avoided all but necessary human contact for four years. Perspective gets skewed.

But yes. It's been a good week. And in two weeks I will be at Botcon with other good friends who I see very rarely. The store passed its Secret Shop, and we are off to a decent start to the quarter, which hopefully means a turnaround there, as well.

Owie

Mar. 13th, 2011 03:27 pm
air_n_darkness: (maleficent-don't)
So, I’ve been expecting a visit from Murphy. Things have been going to well, and pattern dictates that he just had to be coming along to throw a monkey wrench into my plans soon. Except that this time, Murphy threw that monkey wrench right at my legs and tripped me but good.

Literally.

Friday, I got up and got ready for work a bit early. I didn’t have to be in to work at YC until 1pm, so I figured I’d head over early and spend an hour or so at E to check my e-mail and other online stuff, since we have wifi set up over there. I was all set to head out when I remembered that I needed to take out my trash. I had intended to do it on Thursday am, but didn’t make it before the pickup. I get out there and the freaking trash can, one of those huge city jobs, is all ready full. The day after pickup! What the hell? At any rate, I managed to wedge mine into it, but I was grumbling pretty damn hard about it on the way back across the yard to my place.

I still don’t know what tripped me. I think I stepped on something and it rolled under my foot. All I know is I was walking fine, and then suddenly I was doing the Don’t Fall! Don’t Fall! Stumble! Stumble! Dance. I could not get my balance back, and I went down hard, back of left hand, palm of right, left shoulder- and my left temple/browridge.

Right on the concrete patio.

My glasses wound up a good two feet from me. I did not lose consciousness, but it took me a minute or two to take stock of myself and get myself up. I could tell I’d skinned my hands up good, and my temple was stinging. I thought I could feel a bit of blood, but thought I’d just skinned my temple as well. Got up and grabbed my glasses, then cussed a blue streak. They were broken. Not the lenses, but the frames. I managed to completely flatten one side out so that the left leg was straight out from the lenses. I just got new lenses back in the fall of 2009, and these were still in good shape. I was pretty sure the frames were toast, and could only hope I could have the lenses fitted into new frames.

I’m thinking all of this while I’m carefully heading back to my place. I knew I needed to wash my hands and check my face, and wanted to see if I could figure out if I could make my glasses functional enough for driving. As I was fumbling with my keys, I saw a big flat blood drop fall to the ground. Then another.

Oh shit.
See, I can handle most things. But the idea of stitches scares the ever-lovin’ crap out of me. I have never had stitches (except for oral surgery) and just imagining that I might have to have them nearly sent me into a panic attack.

Upshot was, once I was cleaned up was that I wasn’t actually hurt that bad. I had a couple of half inch long gashes in my eyebrow, not worth a doctor trip, and a lovely case of roadrash on my cheek. So I got cleaned up, called [livejournal.com profile] ravynfyre to get her opinion on if I needed to get checked for a concussion. I wasn’t showing any symptoms, so I decided not to go in. I strongly suspected I was going to have to have new glasses, and I could only just barely pay for those with what I had on hand. Since, of course, I had gone and bought things like groceries and cat food the night before.

I wound up having to take a sick day to deal with my glasses, because not only were the glasses not repairable, and the lenses not salvageable, I had to have a new exam because a) my prescription was out of date and b) the Wal-Mart folks aren’t on my vision plan anyway. I really, really wish I could have managed to hold out a week on the glasses, but I could barely get them to sit on my face so that I could actually see properly through them, and the left lens was popping in and out randomly.

I am very, very glad I pay the extra two bucks a paycheck for vision insurance. Visit, lenses, and frames together cost me $223 out of pocket, versus what would have been over $500 total. Most of that was my lenses- I have to have non-standard lenses for various reasons, and was lucky that Lenscrafters even had them in stock. My frames only cost me $69, because my insurance paid $100 toward them. I could maybe have gone with a cheaper frame; however, $169 was pretty much the cheapest price point they had that wasn’t in the “bargain” $99 frame section- and none of those suited my face at all and were frankly ugly. If I’m going to spend the money, I’m going to get something that looks good on me, especially since insurance will only pay for one pair a year.

Mrf. I remember when Lenscrafters had more affordable options. They’re mostly carrying designer frames now. Or maybe frames are all just that damn expensive now. I haven’t bought new frames in ten years.

At least I did have the money on hand to pay for them. I don’t have any money left, and the money for my car insurance won’t be there when it hits on Wed, but Progressive will resubmit it. I’m more worried about making my April rent. I need $200 a week from my pay to make sure I have enough for my next month’s rent, plus I have to come up with an extra $200 for this month’s deposit payment (it is spread over four months). I can, by living on very little, manage the rent payment before month end, just not the deposit. The only option is to get some stuff up on eBay ASAP. It wouldn’t be so bad if eBay hadn’t made it so that you can only use Turbo Lister if you’re hooked up to the internet. I can’t even create the auctions and then upload from a wifi location. It is highly frustrating. But I’ll manage. I always do.

So I’m stiff, sore, and look like I was in one hell of a fight. I need to get some work done on the house, but I can barely lift a large jar candle to shoulder height with my left arm right now, so moving boxes is out of the question. Hopefully by Monday, I’ll be better enough to actually be able to get some more work done.
air_n_darkness: (Default)
I am mostly moved, but the wifi at the new place is borked. So my internet access will be spotty for awhile. I will catch everyone level.
air_n_darkness: (Bumble)
oh yeah, if you were expecting a Christmas card from me and haven't gotten them, you will get New year's cards instead. Stuff and such caused issues.
air_n_darkness: (The light!)
Once upon a time, I defined myself as an artist. If a random person asked me what I believed myself to be, what the definitive term to describe me was, I'd still say "artist"; I just wouldn't feel it as a truth. Somewhere in transitioning from child to adult, I lost my creative connection. Creating became about productivity instead of about creating.

I honestly can't remember the last time I made something just for the sake of it. I can't remember the last time I had an idea in my head that would not let me sleep until I put it on paper, or built it, or brought it into being somehow. Making art at some point became all about justification: justifying the time, justifying the expense, justifying my ideas. What is my vision? Why am I making this? Do I think this is commercial? Can I make money if I do this instead of that? Oh yeah, and my favorite: what statement am I making?

Gah! I never cared about any of that; at least, I didn't until I got to Art Collage&trade. I just wanted to make the visions in my head reality. I wanted to learn techniques, to learn everything I could about what I felt called to do. Instead, from almost the beginning I was pressed to decided on an artistic point of view, a meaning, to pick some driving force and "greater meaning" behind my work. After the first year course work, there wasn't any structured technique lessons; instead, you said "I want to make this" and the teachers would show you what you needed to know to maybe make that. Or they'd tell you to drop it because it was out of your league, or wasn't "real art."

What's so wrong with wanting to make lovely things? And maybe, just maybe, to make lovely things that people appreciate and want and admire? Why must it always be about "deeper meanings"?

To paraphrase, sometimes a flower is just a flower.

It isn't that I don't admire those artists who do have a Statement to make. If that's what they feel they need to use their gifts to do, then power to them. I don't always get it. I admit, I fail to see the "art" in a lot of Modern Art. I fail to see the beauty in the macabre testaments some artists make for and against whatever social issue they focus on. And while I appreciate the abstract movement, and would certainly be in awe of seeing say, a Pollack or a Picasso in person, I do not find them attractive. Wait, let me amend that- I find some of Picasso's works quite fascinating, but strictly from a technical standpoint. I would not desire to have one of his works handing in my home. Ever. Pollock's works will always just be paint splatters to me, even though I understand the work that went into them.

Nothing and no one will ever convince me that Frida Kahlo's works are beautiful. I see no technical merit in her works. I just don't, and this even after we spent a great deal of time studying her in one of my history classes. Do I understand her place in art history, etc, etc? Yes. I simply don't like her work.

Mondrian and Matisse, now, I like their works. Mondrian, because much of his work speaks to me structurally- it evokes a 3-D connection with a 2-D object. Matisse because of the sheer flow of his drawing style. Then there is Klimt. Oh my god, Klimt. I have this overwhelming and crazy desire to one day turn The Kiss into a 3-D metal sculpture, a master copy in different media. All those little, detailed metal panels...

But I am digressing.

I miss creating. Yes, I work in a crafts store. Yes, I regularly make things for swaps, gifts or whatnot. But...that isn't the same. I like what I make. I enjoy the process. I damn sure enjoy collecting supplies. But it isn't the same. It isn't me really. It's just...stuff. I'm always tempering it down to work within the tastes of the group, or sacrificing an idea because I lack funds or time or space.

Time's the big one. I feel like I'm wasting time when I just sit down and putter with things. There are so many other things that "need" doing. So many people pulling for my attention. It feels like wasting time if I'm focusing on art now. I'm unsure when I adopted that attitude, but I wish I hadn't.

I'm trying to fix it.

Somewhere toward the end of last year, I started getting the Urge again. The urge to actually makes something, to work through it as one would work through a problem. I actually sketched a few things down, which is huge for me. I haven't been able to properly utilize a sketchbook since I started MCA and started getting graded on how much I utilized one.

It excites me, having this urge. It won't be sculpture in the classic sense of the word, but yet, it will be. On top of that, it has a Place and a Purpose and a Person to which it will go. Not because I am forcing it to have those things, but because it is simply part and parcel of the project itself. The Belonging comes hand and hand with the Being, and that is something that has not happened for me in longer than long. I've even started gathering the materials.

It will be quite the undertaking, and I'm expecting some technical snags along the way. I welcome then actually, for it's been far too long since I've truly challenged myself with art. It will take some time, because some aspects are very specific, and I will have to wait and hunt for the parts and baubles that will fit each particular need. But that's okay. I have no deadline.

I can't wait to get started.
air_n_darkness: (my weakness)
I hate being the bad guy.

I do. I really really hate it. It hurts to have to jump up and down and rail like some crazed devil at someone I love dearly just to get through. Just to motivate them past their depression and self-pity and personal hangups. It hurts because I know that I'm making them hurt. The fact that it is for their benefit, that they need to have someone stop coddling them and just letting them go about things however they wish does not help! It does not make the brick wall I am butting my head against any softer. It does not make my heart ache any less.

I've been acting as the Reality Check for too many people over too many years, from my sister forward. It's getting harder and harder to be diplomatic in my delivery. Or perhaps I am realizing that diplomacy is simply not the appropriate choice anymore. I have offered diplomacy and ways to cope, relaxations and options and innumerably other things and they are turned away by the wall of darkness with which people have enveloped themselves.

We create our own reality. If all we believe is doom and gloom and OMFG I can't handle this right now and this can't work and there are so many obstacles then guess what? That's what you're fucking going to get. I know this for fact, not some new age mumbo jumbo feel good shit. I know this because I have been through this. I have seen what happens when we stop being a stowaway wallowing in the baggage car and start forcing and pushing our way up to first class. And guess what? First class feels pretty damn good. The seats are a helluva a lot more comfy, let me tell you.

Because godsdamnit everyone fucking hurts. We cry, we suffer. We have pains in our body, in our hearts, in our minds. We have people we have to take care off, people who need us, people who hinder us. Humanity as a whole is a walking talking sweating pile of pain and anger and we still get are arses up every damn day and go to work or school or family or the nursing home or the doctor. Why? Because no one is going to do that shit for us, or take away our pain. There are options! There are ways to cope. There are people to lean on.

Take for example, my personal health. I am 238lb at 5'5". I am overweight. I have been overweight from day 1. I am genetically pre-disposed to accumulate extra weight. I have degnerative arthritis, in my knees, my lower back, and my neck. I have poly cystic ovarian syndrome, and even if I wanted children I could not have them. I have the same chemical imblances and adult onset breathing issues that my mother had. I have allergies the likes of which one finds in legend in song. I have OCD and social anxiety. I am as one blind without my glasses and my eyes are getting worse every year.I have bulging disks in my back and neck, planter faciatus and bone spurs in my feet.

I wake up in pain. I go to sleep in pain. I take no less than five drugs every morning and three to five others every night. I do not have insurance, so I have to save up for doctors visits that I need. I have to budget $300.00 every month for medications. I am a walking, talking mass of hurt.

Every. Damn. Day.

I have had my heart broken. I have lost people I love to death or time. I have judged and been judged. There are times I wake up crying, and times I cry myself to sleep. There are times I say fuck the world and decided that I am going to cocoon for a day. And sometimes, when I am smiling my biggest smiles and chattering happily away, I am really envisioning doing something really, really horrible to the bitch who is letting her child tear up my store.

Every. Damn. Day.

I get up, I take my meds, I go to work. I work my ass off to ensure that I am not an expendable member of staff. I buy better shoes and inserts so that I can make it through an eight hour shift on my feet. I am reading up on nutrition so that I can change my diet in such a way as to help alleviate some pains. (Aside, plants related to the nightshade, such as potatoes and tomatoes, can actual increase ones arthritis symptoms, for example) I may not be practicing the knowledge I am gaining as well as I should, but I am learning. I am working toward goals. I come home, I do more work. I work on my space. I work on ebay. I look at my budget and have to think really hard about buying something frivolous because if I buy it, I have less to but toward X, Y, Z fund. I put all the shit and pain and hurt and emotional distress to one side because i have no other choice and I am the only one who can take care of me and my life!

Every. Damn. Day.

If I have a problem, I get help. I may have to plan/budget/sacrifice to do it, but I get the damn help. I don't have insurance and I don't know what to do. and I was never taught how to handle this type of stuff." are not valid excuses when the bodies hit the floor and the feces hit the oscillating device. You damn well learn what needs doing, and what options you have, and where you can go; you don't sit there and wait for someone to come and bail you out. No matter how much you may want to hide. You have to take care of you, adn those that depend on you.

Every. Damn. Day.

We. Create. Our. Own. Reality. We do it, not some god in the sky or earth or some magic fairy godmother or some devil in a business suit down the way promising quick fixes and new days, just sign your soul on the dotted line. You have one life. One life to live and fight for and cherish and cry over. One single solitary life. And you are the unchallenged captain of that life. People argue with me that if such is the case, why does such shit keeping happening? Simple. Life is not stagnant. It evolves. And one cannot have evolution without challenge or strife or need. But you can choose how you face those challenges, if you break or bend, crash upon the rocks or find a safe passage through.

Your choice. Yours and yours and yours and yours. My choice. Mine to make and mine to accept and mine to lament if it was a poor choice. But by all that every god and goddess holds dear, by breathe and rain and thorn and sun, there is a choice!
air_n_darkness: (reject reality)
More or less, anyway.

I am moved into [livejournal.com profile] uglygrandmother's house, my storage unit is full to capacity, and my ebay stuff is safely ensconced at [livejournal.com profile] slackeremeritus's house. There is a very small amount of random items left in the house, which I will be getting tomorrow. Things went more or less smoothly, as far as transitioning goes. I'm doing...better than I expected, mentally. I'll be glad when I have the last bits out. Every time I go back over there, it's like getting a punch in the gut. I admit, while I was mostly adjusted and accepting, there was still this stubborn little shred of hope or...something. I don't know. And it annoys me.

I really just want this to be done with. I've reached the point of being angry, I think, well and truly angry over it all. Because it was such a pile of bullshit.

Meh. Not going there at the moment.

The cats have all been moved and integrated into the household. Pepper is still a bit spooky about coming into the front of the house; he only does so when Mike and Trudy are asleep. Goyle thinks he owns the place, and Yin is very "Whatever, dude." He is Buddha, watch him nap.

While Trudy's cats aren't particularly happy with things, there have been no rolling furballs as of yet. Some hissing, chasing, cornering, and growling, but no furballs. Shadow is giving ground, and Hermes is just pissed. Midnight, the unfixed female, is happier than a pig in slop. She now has five boys to swish her tail at, instead of two. Of course, all the boys are fixed, so they can't really help her out much.

She has decided she wants my Yin. Not surprising, as he is the largest of the cats in the house now- stronger genetic material and all that. But Yin really has no clue. He isn't an alpha mentality, so he doesn't want to fight Hermes or Shadow for their spot. Yin hasn't ever known an unfixed female. He doesn't know what to do or why this tiny black cat keeps twisting about and shoving her butt in his face. He literally yawned in her face tonight. It is most amusing.

I have come to the realization that I have a lot of shit. My Master's degree in Space/Time Manipulation is being put to very good use at the moment. While I have not been able to make as swift a progress in unpacking as I would like, it's coming along. My futon will be here in about two more weeks, and by then, all the boxes should be emptied and things will at least be on shelves. Not organized, but on shelves. By end of May, I should be well and truly organized. I'm rather proud of my arranging skills, truth be told. Once the futon's here, I won't have a lot of actual floor space, but I will still have a room that does not feel horrible cramped, or that looks like an explosion has hit it. And if I want to be able to actually use the space, I'll have to keep it that way.

Cooked dinner tonight, and everyone seemed happy. Cleaned up before and after, which made Trudy happy, and then took out the trash, which made Mike happy. I can't possibly express how grateful I am to them both for giving me a place to stay. I just hope I can avoid being too much of a bother. My intention is to cook dinner once a week, at least. I enjoy it, and I know it will take some of the stress off Trudy.

So, yes, I am here, safe and sound in Millington. I'll be starting back up my regular list posts tomorrow, for those who've been missing them.

Just a FYI

Mar. 9th, 2009 10:55 am
air_n_darkness: (beatings)
I know I've missed the Happy thoughts posts the past few days. This is not because life is sucking, but because I am busy beyond belief. I'm doing good to stay on top of my food diary.

Don't expect much outta me until April.

Moving day

Feb. 26th, 2009 10:24 am
air_n_darkness: (Prowl-hmph)
Okay. House is being sold at auction on March 26th. I imagine I will have access to it through the following weekend, but no guarantees. I need to get stuff moved before then, if at all possible.

Who would be available to help me move big stuff on the 24th and 25th of March? I'm fairly sure I will be off those two days.
air_n_darkness: (dismember)
I am getting really, really tired of taking two steps back for every step forward.

Seriously.

And you, who had the room for rent, who I arranged a time to see said room that was immediately after the time you said it would be available to look at? Thank you ever so much for not bothering to let me know you had already rented the space before I drove out there. Better yet, you weren't even home when I got there. I waited in the cold and rain, until the people you rented the space to came by and told me you weren't home.

Nevermind that I've been sitting on the room deposit for a week, because you told me I was the first appointment, and I told you that chances were 95% that I would be taking the room. Money I could have used to buy groceries and get a new pair of glasses.

Top it off, I've been cut from 38-30 hours at work because of the damn recession. AND one of the business bills has started garnishing my paycheck. Whoo-de-fucking-who. Think I'll use this money to get a bankruptcy started.

It seems as soon as things start going right, someone flushes the cosmic toilet and I'm under the drain. Fuck you, Murphy, and the horse you rode in on, sideways with a two by four.
air_n_darkness: (Default)
So, the gods have deemed that I can once again have both computer an internet access. Go me.

A real post to follow soonish, and I'll resume my daily lists tomorrow.

Okay so...

Feb. 2nd, 2009 10:44 am
air_n_darkness: (HP/SGA grow up)
I have maybe three months left in the house, since Lynson hasn't been paying the mortgage and it'll probably go into foreclosure in the next few months. Don't get me started on that. Major can of worms there.

I do have a place to go if I get stuck, and that is [livejournal.com profile] eclectic_spirt's. It is not an ideal solution, as 1) his house is small, 2) we are unsure how his solitary kitty and my three would get along and 3) he's used to living alone in a very bachelor style. *snugs* I love you, Mark, but I needs me a clothes washer, if not a dryer, at the least! :)

So, now that things are coming down to the wire, I'm putting out the call. If anyone local knows of someone w/ a room or two to spare, someone who won't mind three adorable and for the most part well-behaved kitties, and who doesn't expect a very large amount in rent/utilities, please toss the tip my way. My credit is trashed thanks to the business, and I'll likely be declaring bankruptcy by the end of this month. I can't get a lease, even if I could find a place I could afford.

Preferably, I want a non-smoking place, because my allergies have gotten bad, and I'm showing early signs of the adult-onset asthma that both my mom and grandmother suffered from. But, clean, safe(for me and the cats), and trustworthy are much higher priorities.

I also cook. Pretty damn well if I say so myself, and am perfectly willing to trade groceries and their preparation, as well as house cleaning as part of "rent." Also, will pay for/chip in on high-speed internet. Because I am spoiled beyond reason.

I'm thinking it'll take me 1-2 years to get settled out and squared away so that I can get back on my own. I'd really, really prefer not top be house bouncing during that time, if at all possible. So I'm thinking fairly long-term as far as a place is considered.
air_n_darkness: (reject reality)
I am currently without a computer. I will be making do with borrowing Lynson and Nitia's in order to check e-mail, but don't look for me to be making my daily posts or what not. This also means I may not be able to finish my article for Crossed Genre's in time for the contest deadline, as all my freaking notes are on that computer.

*hates the world at the moment. bye-bye*
air_n_darkness: (mermaid:transition)
Yes, I am all right. A little down (actually more than a little), but it could be worse, I suppose. I had several offers to come to x, y, z house for the day, but I declined. Being around people would not have improved my mood, however; in fact, it likely would have worsened it, as I would then have had to bottle every thing up until I got home. It is not that I don't have any place to go. It is that for the first time in almost a decade, I don't have a home and family to go to/have over. Several of you are Family to me, and I hope you know that, but it isn't the same. I thought it wouldn't bother me, but it does. Little things, little traditions built over the years, all gone by the wayside, and for what?

Gods, I can't imagine what Christmas is going to be like.

At any rate, I haven't just been sitting here moping. Just because I chose to deal with the day on my own, does not mean I had to not enjoy the day. I cooked a turkey, just a small one, brined overnight and seasoned with Moroccan spices. I also tried a new cornbread dressing recipe, made dumplings, and made a sweet potato puree. Wasn't too crazy about the dressing- doubt I'll be remaking that one. The sweet potato puree was really nice. Boiled sweet potatoes, blended with buttermilk, butter, a little salt, and cardamon. The turkey and dumplings came out fine.

I also made myself tackle the pile of bills. I've..kinda been rather bad about them. I haven't had any spare money to pay them, so I really haven't been looking at them. That, and every time I think of them I get pissed off and depressed all at the same time. Meh.

All that said, things could be much, much worse. I have good friends, a place to live, and a job that pays decently, even if it really isn't a realistic living wage in today's world. Despite not doing much in the past few years with my creative side, I don't seem to have most my touch or my knowledge. I have kitties who love me unconditionally. And I don't hate. That's a big one. I hurt. But I don't hate.
air_n_darkness: (sorrow)
Yesterday, we learned that one of our regular customers passed away. She had been in the hospital for quite a while now, after having a reaction to her new heart medication. I felt she would not make it out, and it hurts to know my feelings were correct.

Mozelle was a dear little lady, one of the Rolling on the Rubber members, and also one of the ladies who had welcomed me into the papercrafting fold, even though I was "one of those odd gaming people" that Pamela hired to work at Kevin's Attic. She was very vibrant, very alive, and that despite her small stature and age (she was almost 80, if I remember correctly.) She loved to travel, and was always bringing in bits and pieces to show that she'd picked up overseas. I remember thinking- more than once- that I hope I have half her energy and enthusiasm when I reach her age.

She was more than just a regular customer. She was a friend. And I will miss seeing her smile.

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