You're Totally Sarcastic

You sarcastic? Never! You're as sweet as a baby bunny. Seriously, though, you have a sharp tongue - and you aren't afraid to use it. And if people are too wimpy to deal with your attitutde, then too bad. So sad.

How Sarcastic Are You?

So this was the other test I took. Me sarcastic? Of course!

Two more interesting bits about me I didn't know . . .

So a friend of mine forwarded me information about what kind of mythical creature she is. Thought it was cool so I took the test myself;

You Are a Mermaid

You are a total daydreamer, and people tend to think you're flakier than you actually are. While your head is often in the clouds, you'll always come back to earth to help someone in need. Beyond being a caring person, you are also very intelligent and rational. You understand the connections of the universe better than almost anyone else.

What Mythological Creature Are

You?

I found it interesting, never thought of myself as a mermaid, but hey it works for me . . .

Need and Needy people . . .

Okay, so I have no idea who, if anyone ever reads this. I imagine that once I finish building my website, this will get read more, but who knows.

My whole life I've been the "go to girl" for everyone around me. Needy people seem to flock to me like bugs to light, and until recently I've been there for them. All the time, every time, without fail, right to the point of dropping what I was doing to hold their hand or whatever. I've always been everyone's Mum, dealing with problems, making magic happen, being a shoulder to cry on.

So, let's see, what do I have to show for it? My husband, the one man who actually listened to me, let ME vent and cry on his shoulder, is dead and gone. April it will be a year he's gone, May it will be three years he's out of my life. Turned out he was an abusive Momma's boy who got the hook into me so hard he about broke me yanking me out of the water.

Tonight I need to talk to someone who knows me, cares about my heart and soul, my feelings and is willing to listen and I don't know, maybe even give me a hug. So I have this long line of people banging down the door to talk to me, let me cry on their shoulder, give me a hug and say hey girl, you're doing good!

Not exactly. My little brother is a morose, depressed, miserable, cripple who's only getting worse by the day. He'd LOVE it if I were to call right now, so he could be mopey and depressed all over me, talking about how much his life sucks because his foster Mum just died on him and I'm not there. He's wallowing in his own pain, simply refusing to celebrate his Mum's life. I spent two hours on the phone with him Friday, walking him through some good memories. What did I accomplish? Nothing, nada, zip, zilch, zero!!!

Friend of mine, and I'm not even so sure sometimes is also more lost in her pain than anything else in life and getting on the phone with her is painful. I mean really, I get the whole "transition is such a pain in the bum" thing. If anyone knows, I think it would be me. People just seem to forget, I've been there, done that, burned the T-Shirt. I KNOW! I'm post transition, post op, post old life and working hard on building a new one. I even went as far as making calls in her area, talking to people there, in the interests of finding her some help. So she sends me this e-mail about how much life sucks, and how no-one will talk to her. Sure, if you don't pick up the phone they won't! Don't call them, sit there being miserable, and tell yourself no-one wants to talk to you. I know, I've been there too. So I'm supposed to get on the phone with her, listen to her wallowing in her own pain, threatening to vanish and over-react? Fine, GOOOOO!

You know I still have a heart, a life, feelings of my own, past of my own I have to deal with. Transition for me wasn't about gender after all. Yeah, I've changed that, gone from men's country to being a permanent member of women's country. Wonderful, marvelous, spiffy! In the grand scheme of things I'm thankful my battle with gender is over. Insides, outsides, all say the same thing, I look, sound and act like the person I am. Splendid! Shiny!!! Good for me!

Really though it was about freedom! Freedom to be, act, speak and feel like ME, not someone the world expected me to be. I'm a woman, I'm moving on with life, alone but not usually lonely. Sometimes however a girl needs someone to talk to, a shoulder to put her head on, maybe even spill a tear or two if the mood struck me. No-one. Just no-one I can call who knows it is okay to have a weak moment now and again, let the FEELINGS flow, run out, wash over, through and out of me. No-one to give me a hug, to LISTEN to me, my heart and soul and be there for me.

Nope, not having a pity party, just a bit tired and cranky. I've been working so hard, for so long, I wouldn't mind a damn break for a bit. I did the impossible, survived suicide, the death of a spouse, the death of my brother, having people stalk me, and so forth. Goodness, gracious me, been to hell and back fighting to survive. Did even more impossible stuff, got my SSN changed, on to disability in the first go round, no appeals or bull shit, and changed my life in so many ways people who used to know me don't.

So today, I'm alone and lonely. Tomorrow I have to go get on another waiting list, and another, and so on to try and find someplace to live I can afford. Good Fraking luck. So, there's a list of people I can call who NEED me, but who does a girl call when she needs someone? How do I get my needs met without having to first meet everyone else's first??? Cause I know now that never works. So what's a girl to do? Don't know. What I am going to do is take my meds, have a bagel, watch an episode of Stargate SG1 and get some sleep.

Tomorrow's just another day . . .

Whatever you do, DO NOT sign up with T-Mobile!!!

So my bill was due on 2/1/07, and a few days after that I made a payment that was more than 3/4 of my amount due. I rounded to a close number and figured I'd pay the rest next month. No big deal right, they just carry whatever small amount was leftover until next billing cycle.

You'd figure they wouldn't just SHUT OFF YOUR PHONES with NO WARNING!!!

So two hours ago, I went to check my e-mail. I use my phone. I bay the extra monthly fee to surf the internet and such with my phone. It didn't work. Like, at all. Tried calling my other number, tried calling the phone FROM my other number, and that's when I heard the warning . . .

THEY SHUT MY PHONES OFF BECAUSE I WAS A FEW DAYS LATE WITH A COUPLE OF DOLLARS!!!

WTF Over???

I'm pissed, I call customer service and they BULLIED ME into paying the rest, and because we are SO nice we will waive the reconnection fee THIS TIME, but you'd better pay your entire bill, IN FULL, BEFORE THE DUE DATE FROM NOW ON OR NO WARNING! WE SHUT THE PHONE OFF . . .

What? Again? Like this time? No warnings, no grace period, no nothing!!! DO NOT sign with T-Mobile, like EVER!!! I'm serious, run for the hills!!! T-MOBILE called me a criminal, and used TERROR to make me pay a few dollars RIGHT NOW OR WE MAKE YOU SUFFER!!!

I moved to T-MOBILE from another carrier because they gave me a really good deal. CRAP, what a complete load of crap!!!

The allure of suicide . . .

Wow, that sounds dark now doesn't it? Reality is so much darker. Surviving suicide is considered a trauma, and a cause for P.T.S.D. So wonderful now you know? I've already got enough "primary" causes for the P.T.S.D. I've been diagnosed with, now another?

Well not now, this has been going on for awhile. Periodically, when I have bad days, that's where my mind runs. Taking your own life is of course a one time solution to all the problems in life you know. That's it, done, over, finis! Every single problem you have is folded up and stuffed in the box they bury you in and you never have to worry about it again.

Well that's what one believes when one takes their own life. In 1961 that is exactly what I believed, and was certain what would become of me. Nothing more, ever, my problems solved, my pain gone, and me with it. As I sat there in a warm tub of purple liquid, my consciousness slipping from me, I was, for the first time in years at peace and free of my pain. I sat there, the blood gushing from the deep cuts in my thigh, KNOWING it was finally over.

Sure I'd be missed, people I knew and loved would be hurt, pissed even. They'd adjust, and it was my life, not theirs to live or die. I was in so much pain, so depressed, and in such bad shape cutting open my thighs didn't even hurt. I felt giddy, even slightly euphoric, as the blood gushed from my wounds and turned the blue water purple. Finally, relief, freedom, never to be bothered again, all my problems solved.

I'd spent the last of my money on a nice bottle of French red wine and some blue food coloring. Drawn a nice bath, lit a bunch of candles, opened the red wine to breath, put Jacques Briell's "La Moribond" on the phonograph, poured the food coloring into the tub, then a glass of wine and slid into the water. I drank a bit of wine, actually a bunch of it, and let the mellow warmth enfold me in it's loving embrace. I was practicing a form of meditation known today as mindfulness, surrendering completely to what I was feeling at that moment, putting for a moment as much distance between me and my pain as possible.

God's it felt great. I had a purpose, a goal, a direction and I knew in a few short moments my pain would be gone and I'd be free. I was taking, what I thought was a positive step forward, and finally regaining some control of my life. Yeah, those last few moments of peace, of what I thought was clarity, of control was more intoxicating than the wine. Jacques started singing again and this time I savored the words, the feeling, the power in his voice and lyrics. I'd set the phonograph to just keep playing it over and over again.

I still remember how it felt, like it happened yesterday, and in some ways it did. I slid the knife between my legs, took a deep breath and pulled. The physical pain of the blade cutting deep felt GREAT!!! I was on my way, I'd done it, and even if I didn't manage to make the second cut I knew I had moments to live. It felt so good though, waves of sensation that to my addled brain felt WONDERFUL made me want to get the other leg done. Knowing I didn't have much time I turned the knife around and pulled again.

The second time felt even better than the first and I surrendered to the waves of feeling, the pure, almost blissful, physical sensation. Because I'd given this careful thought, and planning, my consciousness started to fade before the "cold" associated with blood loss hit me. Though in retrospect, the cold probably would have felt good too, so I don't know how much it would have mattered.

Loss of life came fast, amazingly fast, well at least I think it did. I passed out from blood loss, and probably quickly died thereafter. What happened next, was the stuff out of movies, or TV. I lost consciousness, and then woke with a start, very disappointed to find myself right were I left off in a tub full of water and my own blood. They phonograph was still playing, the candles burning and while I knew I should be cold, I wasn't.

I then decided that I should get up and start over, I was actually terribly disappointed that I wasn't dead, or so I thought. When I went to get up, there was no sloshing of the water and as I got out of the tub I looked back and saw myself lying there. That was when it hit me, I was dead, I'd actually succeeded in taking my own life. Yeah the pain was gone, sort of, well no, not really.

I was still terribly sad and then some, the reality of what I'd done then started to sink in, the loss. People who did not yet know I was gone, but would be crushed, my sister Lil high at the top of the list. She was a bit younger than I was, and I'd promised I wasn't going to go away on her, and failed her too. That's when the anger hit me full on, all the anger I couldn't manage in life, my rage was loose and the only thing I could do was feel it.

I had time to think, I was actually stuck in there for a while until they came looking for the rent I couldn't pay them, and didn't answer the door. It wasn't till much later I figured out that I could pass through solid matter as easily through air. Honestly it just isn't something you think of when you're dead. You could easily say I had other things on my mind and in my heart, plus the horrible guilt on top of it all.

I'd been raised a good little catholic girl, but never once bought into it, any of it. Which is exactly what got me in so much trouble in the first place. I was supposed to be a "good girl" and marry in my station and grow up to be just like my Mom. My father had already "promised me" to one of the rich sons in town, and I was just expected to go along with it. I was expected to marry, bear his children and make a good society wife. I wasn't just raised as a "good girl" I was groomed to be just like my Mom, and while I loved (still do) her, I wanted a chance for other things in my life.

That was the problem, what lead me to so drastic a step, taking my own life like that?

(End of Part One . . .)

Four Funerals and a beheading.

So in the smallish town I live in there was recently a horrific traffic accident caused, by of all things, three wild teenage males speeding in reckless fashion right after school. This happened less than a mile from the school, and took the life of a complete innocent in the process. The car the teens were in slammed into a school operated minivan, taking the life of the driver of that minivan at the same time.

All four funerals were held today and for all practical purposes the entire student body of the school went funeral hoping. No sooner than one would finish and the other would start. Much talk was head on the local news about the event, and I know it made it into the New York metro stations, on a national level I wouldn't be surprised is it received the same sensationalistic coverage. Great amounts of news, great detail, somber shots of mourners wearing black with yellow ties of ribbons. How sad everyone was, their friends were dead, how terrible the loss of the three young lives, so on and so fourth. The driver of the minivan? What about her? Did they mourn her loss? The tragic end to a life simply because three young males were being idiots?

Hold on here a moment. Yes, I'm sad that FOUR people died so tragic a death. I'm also livid that the teens were so reckless, and stupid, turning several tons of metal, glass, plastic and fabric into a weapon of mass destruction. Four lives ended in an instant, countless others touched, even traumatized, like the drive of the car in front of the minivan who narrowly missed being hit. The driver of this car is a friend and co-worker of someone I met, and based on what was said, this person was seriously traumatized. Now we are up to FIVE people.

Then we have the family's of all FIVE people I personally can count. FIVE families damaged or destroyed. Let's say on the conservative side there are three people per family, now that's another fifteen other people, plus the original five, for a grand total of TWENTY lives irrevocably changed. There were students on the minivan, I don't know how many, their families, and so forth. The total keeps going up.

Sorry, but that is mass destruction. Caused by a car, used as a weapon, even if in terms of someone being an idiot and driving too fast in a reckless manner. A high school student, driving a car? With two other teens? Me thinks the driving age, and requirements for a license are way, way too lenient. How about the idiot parents, mourning the loss of their children, the same ones they allowed use of the car in the first place?

I mean really! Think about it. Those who should be breading and raising children in a responsible fashion are choosing not to, everyone else however . . . I don't care about your precious schedule, and how much easier it is FOR YOUR BUSY life if the kids have a car. They are too young to appreciate the responsibility most of the time, too wild and hormone fueled to understand what it means. So they die, they kill people, everyone is sad, and they talk for hours about how good these kids were, and how much is lost cutting their young lives short.

Grow up! These children are murders. They took a lives. If they'd lived they'd be facing jail . . . Since they're dead we put them up on pillars and talk about how good they are???

Just my two cents . . .

So to add icing to the cake, my sister calls yesterday because on this day of funerals and such, there was a horrible murder in the same town. She called to make sure I was okay. Yeah, just staying out of trouble I said. Later as I was thinking about the day it came to me;

Four funerals and a beheading!

What's that saying? If it bleeds it leads?

Oh so very, very Shiny!

Okay, I'll be honest here. Took my friends a bit of work to convince me to watch "Firefly" in the first place. Now that I finally have, I'm so hooked. Regrettably like all other serialized anythings I've ever really enjoyed they canceled it. Before I even knew it existed it. You see this, they canceled it well ahead of schedule because they knew I'd like it, love it even.

Damn Alliance PIGS!

I just spent the last three or so days watching the DVDs, and now I eagerly await the chance to watch the movie "Serenity" as it is the last of the show around.

Good bye Captain Tightpants, Zoe, Wash, Inara, Shepard Book, Simon and River Tam, Jayne, Kaylee and of course Serenity herself. Amazing and gifted cast, wonderful writing, award winning special effects, though to be honest I'm not a special effects whore. Well truth be told I'm not, through no fault of my own, any kind of whore, but given the opportunity I'd so totally be a "Companion." The show, wow, I simply cannot do it justice in anything I say here.

But I can try, and hope come close. I've been a Star Trek fan since the pilot aired a lifetime ago. Serious Trek fan! So serious I'm writing this on my PADD write now. Watched every episode bunches of times, can quote dialog from some of the more memorable episodes, and I admit to being a huge fan. Now however it is just so 24th century! Seriously, I still love it, but it stands with some other amazing and memorable company like;

Stargate SG1 ("Quote dialog you say?" "That would be a cliche and you know, well YOU know how I feel about those!") [Now canceled with a handful of episodes to go to finish the tenth season out]

Stargate Atlantis (Which I so thought was going to fail, and now, now I'm hooked on that too!)

Battlestar Galactica (The new one, which I love so much more than the original, and I swore that could NEVER happen)

Farscape (They canceled THAT too!!!)

and now;

Firefly. If you have not seen it, oh do yourself a favor and see it. Right now! But down the cortex connection, goto your local video store and rent it right now! Go! Hey! You there, on the other side of the screen, forget reading this, go get Firefly!

Merry Christmas!

Wow, Christmas??? Or is it Saturnalia? Signs littered about the landscape in these parts say;

"Jesus is
the reason for the
Season"

Really? Wow, and here it thought it was for millions of people to go spending money they don't have, buying stuff other people don't need or can't afford and otherwise acting like manaics, running hither and yon over the aforementioned landscape being rushed and exceptionally rude because someone else might get to where ever they are going and scoop all the best deals first.

Okay, so maybe that is a somewhat fatalistic and dark view of things. For me, the Holidays are about getting together with people I love, eating too much food, and having a quiet day to ourselves without all the pressures of the outside world. 2000 years dead carpenter the reason? Okay, I guess it is better than rampant, abusive commercialism gone mad.

I had a quiet, very relaxed and enjoyable day with family and friends. Yes we exchanged presents, the old run of thumb, something they would want, but not necessarily buy for themselves as a way to say; "Hey, you know I think you're really special!" Lots of great food, hanging out, enjoying our time together, catching up on things we might not otherwise get to in the day to day rush of life. A day to appreciate who and what I DO have in my life, and not focus on what I don't. So, in some ways, a day much like Thanksgiving, only without the unique madness my sister brings to things.

So in other news . . . Well first, does anyone actually read this on anything like a regular basis? I don't know, I could just be talking to myself here . . .

Anyway, I'm back in Jersey. I left Colorado on the 13th, took a fairly easy, slow drive across country taking three days. Jumper one, now completely, legally mine in every way, did a great job. I stopped over four times in three days for rest, and even stopped in St. Loius to take pictures of the Arch. The pictures, well I'll get some up here in the next day or so. I'll probably also fill in some of the details of my trip.

The traveling isn't quite over yet, I have to head up to upstate New York on Saturday to spend some time with my little brother. I'm not sure how I feel about that quite yet, but we'll see. Not quite as far a drive as Colorado or even close, but still gonna be a tiring day.

So that's enough for the moment, time to actually have something to eat I think.

Yeah, so I was up early, that was a mistake!

Either that or spending the entire day with my sister doing her gender conflicted version of shopping was, maybe both. She's the only person I know who can spend an hour fondling socks trying to decide which ones to buy. She's also so fraking obsessed with her own unique twist on "reality" that she MUST buy another pair of shoes, ones she wasn't going to buy in the first place, just so that there will be SIX pairs of shoes instead of five, because God and Goddess forbid we don't get the buy one, get one half off deal for all of them. Mind you she was only buying three pair when we started, and I bought two. Nuts I tell you!

We wandered all over hells half acre and then some to even find the shoes in the first place. Me, I found a decent pair of Merril knockoffs for 22 dollars, and a nice simple pair of plain black pumps. Now I can go back to wearing skirts, I have shoes to go with!!! Yay!!!

I did way, way, to much today, including a brief, and not terribly successful foray into a mall. Not just any mall, but one that the last time I'd been there was more than ten years ago with Earl before we married. We were window shopping for rings, and found one in Nordstroms that we liked. Personally I think I handled things amazingly well and only broke down hyterical crying once while we were eating lunch at Subway.

My sister got to talking about patterns and behaviors, how people who live long enough in horrible situations pick up bad habits and so forth. She then proceed to launch into a blow by blow description of how O'Brian on DS9 was sentenced to 40 years in prison, then they did this whole compressed time thing so that he lived out the entire 40 year sentence in a handful of days. Somehow I'd missed that one (thankfully) but her going into great and gory detail managed to remind me of what it's like to be in prison for years on end. Not like I'd know anything about that, and she realized what she'd done way too late. I was toast.

Living in 'gender prison' is bad enough, but THAT isn't what came to mind. I've been officially diagnosed with 'Post Traumatic Stress Disorder' sub classified as 'Prison Camp Survivor' because of my life with Earl. Yeah, it really was that bad and then some. So I lost it right there while eating lunch, and all because I was "eating too fast" and how that wasn't healthy. Mind you, I've slowed down quite a bit of late, working on getting away from the behaviors beaten into my head and heart around Earl and his parents. My sister who knows EVERYTHING (just ask her) then launched into the whole thing and the DS9 episode I'd missed. She assured me that at the end of the show they'd managed to "deprogram" O'Brian and he was fine.

Can they do me next?

Regrettably, no such technology exists in this time and space. Sucks to be me! I hate this, I really do! By the "end" of the day I was so screwed up I was jumping at everything. Now however I have a hankering for some corn. Yeah, just a dish full of hot corn! I'm so tired I think I'm going to head off to bed at TEN tonight, which is right around the corner. Maybe I'll dream of a life without the agony of my past, the limitations on my future, and the damage simple talking can do to me, let alone going out in public.

Holy Frak! I'm up!

So my sister just wandered through and woke me up because she was going to McDonalds to bring back some breakfast. She also thought that since I'm trying to get on something like a better sleep schedule, getting up and 9:00 would be a good idea.

For the record this is the first time I've been up before 10:00 am in over a year. I'm SO NOT a morning person. Now I have to get my brain started, which I suppose is why I'm writing, though honestly I don't think it is working all that well.

Ah, food!