Wednesday, October 31, 2007

Only Rock And Roll Can Save Us Now

Went and saw Chevelle on the 28th. It rocked. They played with Tyler Read and 2 Cents. Very good show. I got to meet Tyler Read and have my CD signed and my picture taken with them(that's Erik and me in the middle). It was on Erik's phone though, so not a very good picture. Still, it was awesome. They were very nice. One of the guitarists gave me a quarter to buy their CD because I was short. How cool is that?



I got into a fight with my mom today. It was over Sam stealing a dollar from me, of all things. An effing dollar. It wasn't that she denied that he stole it, no, she was upset because I was pissed off that he stole from me. Yeah, cuz I'm just supposed to sit back and let him steal from me. He does it all the time, and this is the first time it was money. It wouldn't be such a big deal, if he wanted it he could have asked and I likely would have given it to him, but he lied and said he put it in my mom's purse. There was no way he put it in her purse. There were $10 in her purse when I checked it, all folded together. If he had put it there, he wouldn't have pulled the money already in there out and folded it up together. That's just not how he operates.

She of course called me a bunch of highly uncalled for names and accused me of all kinds of things, namely being lazy and having a bad attitude. Yeah. Ok, cuz it's ok that she treats everyone like shit because nothing is going her way, but if I get pissed off that someone is constantly stealing my stuff from my room WHILE I'M ASLEEP mind you, then I am an effing evil bitch. Uh huh. So now she's saying she won't help me with college and I'm not even sure if she's going to watch Chase when I go back to work on Saturday (I have today, Thursday and Friday off). Just great, right? And I don't know whether or not she is just being pissy or if she really means it. I don't think she means it, because she doesn't stick to her guns (note that this is the reason Sam is a criminal-in-training who never actually gets disciplined because he simply ignores her). But if she does, then I'm royally screwed.

I'm so sick of this crap. I absolutely loathe relying of anyone else, because people constantly stab me in the back or walk all over me, even my own mother. I should have seen it coming though, she started kicking me out when I turned 17 and as such caused me to get kicked out of high school so I had to go to an adult school. I had to work my ass off to make sure I graduated. I got no help. But dear precious Sam, that's a different story. She is doing everything she possibly can to see him pass. The brat is 17 and in 10th grade. She pulled him out of school and put him in home school because obviously regular school isn't working. Of course it isn't working. He's a spoiled brat and doesn't give a damn. He doesn't care about himself, or anyone else for that matter. He wants to fail because he could care less whether or not he actually becomes a productive member of society. He thinks that mommy is going to support him when he turns 18 and is still in high school. She probably will. I hope she doesn't though. He needs to get kicked out and see what life is really like.

It's not fair. I stayed because I wanted to make her happy. I never went to live with dad. I chose to stay. And I got treated like crap, kicked out, grounded all the time, and of course I never got anything good except for a bike that she left down south to make room in the Uhaul for an effing queen size bed for Sam. Like he needed a damn queen sized bed. He ruined it within months of getting up here anyway. But Sam comes back and lives with her when he's 12, about as effed up as a person can get, and he's the flipping prodigal son. He gets all kinds of stuff, a TV, a nice stereo, PS2, PSP, all that. And of course he never got into trouble because she was too afraid he'd go running back to dad. God I hate emotional people. He would never run back to dad. He beat him and made him believe he was a complete idiot. And look, now he really is one.

I'm so sick of this. I need out of here. I need to be able to take care of myself and not have to deal with other people and their stupid irrational emotional bullshit. I am so sick of other people.

Oh yeah, other than that, I had a nice Hallowe'en. I dressed up as a witch and dressed Chase as the Jolly Green Giant (pictures forthcoming) and went to Kim's and then Sara's. It was nice.

--Dragon Read more!

Tuesday, October 23, 2007

And The Beat Goes On

I've been rather busy lately. I didn't have internet for a week when we first moved in, and then when we did get it I didn't have a spare moment to write.

Chase is being rather fussy lately. He suddenly has decided that he will wake up even more often during the night and half the time he wants to stay awake. Um, no. Sorry buddy, but that's just not happening.


Suki died.



We couldn't bring her or Gordo to the new apartment because they don't allow pets. Not a problem in the past because we brought them anyway, but this place has a very strict resident manager and you can get kicked out for the slightest infraction. Erik was going to take her. She was at the old apartment for a few days by herself for the majority of the day, and she might have gotten into something that made her sick. She seemed fine when he took her home, but he called me the next day and said that she was acting sick and throwing up, and was afraid that she might have something that she could give to the other cats. I miss my baby girl.

I got a new car, a '93 Mercury Tracer. It's not as pretty as my old car (a lavender '95 Dodge Neon... I loved my car so much), but it has a brand new engine and is in excellent condition, so it's better than my Neon, even thought it is white with a red interior (i hate hate hate white cars, especially ones with red interiors). I had to get a new car because my poor Neon's engine was failing and it was just a matter of time before the transmission went out, and that could be a potentially dangerous thing.

I started back at work today. I didn't want to go back, but I haven't found another job yet, so I had to. It's not as bad as it was before since I now no longer have a large and ungainly growth protruding from the front of me, and so I didn't feel like i wanted to chop my feet off and beat myself to death with them. That was definitely a nice change. Also, it felt really good to be doing something semi-useful for a change.

--Dragon Read more!

Wednesday, October 10, 2007

From Dwelling to Home

Been feeling like crap. Things around here have been sucking incredibly hard lately-- broke, sleepless, stressed out, effing moronic me forgetting to take my meds every day so I've been feeling even more crappy, and worse, the running is in my head again. Sometimes I feel stifled, like my skin is too tight and I can't breathe, and I just want to run. When everything is a mess and I feel like there's no use cleaning it, and I just want to start over with a clean canvas. Those times where I feel like grabbing my CDs, some clothes, and my journal and just driving until the gas runs out. This has been one of those times.

But today there is hope. Finally we got some good news- today we heard from the people at the apartment complex we applied to. It's a brand new complex (only a few people living in it right now), it's absolutely gorgeous and feels blank, no impressions or leftover unpleasantness from previous owners (I get impressions in places. I've turned down more than a few awesome apartments because they made me feel sad or creeped out. Wierd, I know.). We have to turn in a few things and we are pretty much guaranteed to get the place.

It's CHIP (Cali's low income housing program, for those who don't know), so the rent will be about the same or less than we are paying now for a beautiful 3 bedroom apartment. It's a really unique design, too: it's in a three story building and occupies the top two floors in a building with 8 units, 4 3 bedrooms and 4 2 bedrooms that are located on the bottom floor. The upstairs is accessed by a door leading to an internal staircase that is part of the upstairs apartment.

There are 2 bedrooms and a bathroom on the top floor and one bedroom and one bathroom on the lower floor. The bottom room would be mine, and I'd have my own bathroom (OMG YAY!). It is awesome. Filled with light, all energy star appliances, a kitchen with a fantastic work triangle, and lots of storage space. It also has a large storage closet on the ground floor for things like barbeque equipment and the like.

I am so excited. I love moving, it makes me feel new and satisfies the nagging urge to run. Best of all, my mom will finally have her own room (right now she sleeps in the living room), so we will have a real living room and won't have to retreat to our rooms after about 9pm. Yay! Late night movies and all that when I can't sleep!

Fantastic. Absolutely fantastic.

--Dragon Read more!

Monday, October 8, 2007

Sleepless in Chico

Disclaimer: I have a VERY dirty mouth. I curse like a sailor. (You can thank my high school friends for that) Please forgive me if I cause offense.

I just want to sleep. How is that too much to ask? Sleep- a basic human need. But no. I get no sleep. This is partially my fault. Sort of. I don't go to bed until midnight or one. But in my defense, I usually can't fall asleep until then anyway. Then, the buffin wakes up either around 2:00 or 2:30 or if I'm really super lucky, at 4:30 or 5:00. If he wakes at 2:00, he still wakes up around 4:30. At 4:30 he suddenly decides that, hey, it's time to wake up and make happy little buffin noises and fuss whenever he pushes his binky out of his mouth or I actually start to fall asleep. Yep. Frickin' fun times, I tell you. Finally, he goes to sleep sometime after 6:00. And then wakes again at 8:30. And stays up for the next 3 hours. Oh, and did I mention I have insomnia? Quite often it takes me hours to fall asleep anyway. Except when I initially fall asleep. But when I wake up after that, all bets are off. No fucking sleep. God. I just want to fucking sleep.

Oh, and pretty much anytime I try to eat, he suddenly needs to be held. Try eating hot cabbage and polish sausage with a windmilling buffin in your arms. Yeah. So not happening. Effing Erik. I hate him I hate him I hate him. He is completely incompetent. Never comes over lately until I ask him. Never flipping buys anything for Chase unless I ask him (had to type Chase like 6 times-- kept typing 'Xhase' lol), and can't change a diaper to save his life, can't burp him, can't take him anywhere because he's an idiot and doesn't know how to drive safely if it where to garner him a million dollars for every mile he drove. Effing idiot. I hope he trips and falls on his big stupid face.

'Oh, I have a son. Oh, I'm so proud of him. I love him so much. Blah Blah Blah Chase Blah Blah...' Imbecile. If you love him then why the FUCK are you not here spending time with him? What about when he needs diapers and clothes? Oh and how you made me feel bad that I made you buy that vaporizer and baby Tylenol when he was sick with the cold YOU gave him, huh??????

You pay like $100 a month in rent to your sister, who, by the way, wants your freeloading ass off her couch like now. You don't pay car insurance, because you have an insurance card that you stopped paying like 8 months ago because you said that they can't prove you don't have insurance when you get pulled over cuz your card says it expires in November. Your only bills are your car payment and your cell phone bill. You don't even pay that medical bill you have or the 3 credit cards that you maxed out.

I don't care if you are suddenly working 30 hours a week. Inevitably, one of your clients will die, or go into a home, or something else, and your hours will be cut drastically. And of course you won't bother calling in to ask for more hours for weeks or even months. Because you're a stupid lazy slob. But you refuse to look for another job because 'you don't like searching for a job'. Yeah. Cuz the rest of us just effing love it.

Oh, and then when you do come over you smell like wrankled ass shoved into a paper bag and ding-dong-ditched on my poor unsuspecting furniture. I tell you as politely as possible that you reek and you need a shower, even offer the use of my shower, and you tell me you have no clean clothes. So I give you 2 dollars that I could use for my clothes, because everyone in this house needs clean clothes in the worst way (but at least our 'recycled' clothes are still pretty much clean and we have the forethought to at least use Febreze) and I only have enough to do one load for each person, and I've been sleeping on a bare mattress for 2 weeks cuz I only have one set of sheets and the buffin spit up all over them and I really need to wash my blankets cuz they smell like dog, not to mention my mom's blankets, which now have eau de wrankled ass on them cuz you sat on the couch when she still had her bedding on it. (yes, that is the biggest run on sentence ever) I tell you to take a shower and wash clothes and then come back over, but of course you don't. I effing hate you. And, on top of the fact that you are completely useless, YOU GET A FULL NIGHTS SLEEP EVERY NIGHT AND HAVE THE BALLS TO BITCH THAT YOU HAVE TO WAKE UP ONCE IN A WHILE TO LET THE CAT OUT. Asshole. Effing useless, uncouth, thoughtless, inconsiderate, waste-of-perfectly-good-carbon molecules asshole. Go eat a bowl of dicks.

--Dragon Read more!

Tuesday, October 2, 2007

Dear Nasty, Skanky, Trailer Trash Hookers Who Insist On Mentally Putting Their Filthy Paws All Over My Son

Dear Tami and Mari:

Let me first say that for one brief moment I liked you. Then you turned into a bunch of crazy skanky bitches. You remember your other daughter, Desi, don't you, Tami? The one I was friends with all throughout high school? Well she's on permanent disability because she can't even function in the real world thanks to your effed up family, siccing all the other kids on her and treating her like filth, attacking her and scratching up her face with your nasty nails, making her sleep outside in the trailer, oh, not to mention such gems as forbidding her from seeing her friends, and calling them up and saying that they were a witch and devil worshiper on their 15th birthday? Remember that one, Tami? Well I do. My effing 15th birthday, you dumb wench. Well, suffice to say, I don't like you. And I don't like your fughly daughter Mari, either.

In true family tradition, when Matt was home last year on his birthday, you told him, Mari, that I had emailed you all these terrible, untrue things, and made him hate me. He wouldn't even talk to me so I could prove that you were lying. But that wasn't enough. Nope. You thought it would be fun to send me awful emails saying all kinds of horrible things that Matt said about me (which he didn't) that I don't even want to repeat. Finally I just stopped reading them and deleted them without even looking.

Then, this year, months and months after he realized exactly what brand of worthless scum you are, you tried to contact Matt again through Faith's myspace. Of course, neither of them wanted anything to do with you, especially after seeing all the racist trash on your profile. You tell Faith that Matt is going to leave her for me, and that no matter what, he will always come running back to me, any other girls are just a diversion, so she better keep a short leash on him and not let me have anything to do with him. WTF? Seriously. Don't go telling my friends that I am going to steal away their boyfriend. I like and respect Faith very much, and I don't have any intentions of 'stealing' him away from her, whether I am capable of it or not.

Then, they try and tell you not to contact them, and you have the cojones to call Faith's children future hookers, fags, and drug addicts, (and those are the nicer things you said). Faith's kids are 5,6, and 8 years old. Yeah. Nice job, assface. You have class just oozing out all over the place, don't you, Mari?

So that said, I don't care if you work with Erik. I don't care if you just "luuurrrve" babies. Quit flipping asking him about Chase. Quit asking about him, quit asking if he can bring him to work so you can see him (and no doubt touch him with your nasty little hands), and most of all, quit leaving asinine comments on his myspace saying that he 'looks just like Erik' and most of all, acting as if I had nothing to do with the whole creating bit. For all intents and purposes, Erik is barely in the picture at all. He spends maybe a few hours every few days over here, can't even burp the child correctly, and I can't trust him to take Chase anywhere because he drives like an idiot and refuses to drive safely even with constant reminders. Plus, he keeps pot in is car and there's no effing way that I'm going to let him take Chase anywhere with that around, lest he get pulled over (a common occurance) and searched.

HE IS MY FUCKING SON, YOU MORONS. Keep your nasty evil germs away from him, mentally and physically. Keep it up and I may hunt you down and punch you square in the face... maybe not, as we all know, fughly people have nothing to lose. But I will teach you not to mess with me, cuz you are getting on my last nerve. Wenches.

--Dragon

Stupid jump still isn't working. Argh. Read more!