SOMETIMES YOU NEED TO HELP A FRIEND OUT

Not many people are destined for greatness. Not many people even know what the hell they want to do with their life, let alone do it.  Such is the few that do make it, and do what they love, sharing their talent with the world.

But what about those who know what they want to do, have the drive & ambition, are extremely talented, yet kind of get swept to the side by society?  No, they didn't get that lucky break of having someone stumble upon their talent, who happened to be with the "in crowd", who could make their dream a reality.

So how do we help someone reach the greatness, we know they are destined for?  I have no fucking idea.  But I'm gonna try.  I need to try something.  Writing this blog is the first step to that something.  Maybe YOU know someone who can help?  Or maybe I'll just be like those annoying asshats and spam the fuck out of people until someone gives in and reads this?

My friend Andrew has a dream and I want to do what I can to help him reach that dream.  Why?  Because I feel obligated, as a friend, to do my part to help him. Because I believe in him and his dream.  And because I feel inspired to help as much as I possibly can from 2000 miles away.

Andrew Scott Ramsey's dream is to become a film maker.  He has written a script, hired actors and tried to raise money for his project.  Alas, the road is long and difficult, and at times leaving him feeling defeated.

Make Believe Time is the movie Andrew wrote, and is currently working on. I'm sure if you ask nicely, he may let you read some/all of the script.

Now, most of you that know me, know I'm a no nonsense kind of bitch.  I will straight tell you the truth and ask for the same in return.  I will not hand you bullshit and try to convince you it's a fluffy kitten.  I am also secure enough to admit when I'm wrong about something.  Although I am not wrong about this.

So here I am, asking for your help.  Help?  Please?  If any of you know someone, who knows someone, who knows a guy, who used to fuck this girl, who knows someone. . .just take a chance.  I'm asking you to take a chance on this random guy who wrote a movie script, like the millions of other random-movie-script-writing-guys.  Only this guy is good.  REALLY good, and worth the chance.

He might be pissed that I'm doing this, but fuck it, he'll get over it.  Here is something he wrote today on his fb page that inspired me to write this blog:

Andrew Scott Ramsey

2 hours ago

Here I am people:
All I ever have wanted to do was make movies. The first time I saw 'Ghostbusters' in 1987, I knew that I was meant to entertain. I don't know why, but it has always been my gut instinct. But like a weak-willed pussy, all I did was make the wrong choices. I joined the Air Force and did my time, but I never belonged there. It was never right for me. So, I got out, not of my own acc

ord either. But when you tell docs that you wanted to eat the business end of your 9mm, they tend to take you serious. I got out in 2003 and settled in California to get my movie career going. I was going to write. What did I do? I wasted 5 years on a woman who kept me in boxes, never really was supportive of pursuing my dreams, it was always about the shitty job and making money, marriage and babies. Well babies? Don't want those. EVER. Movies is all I ever want to do, all I want is the chance to do it my way, the way I think will work best. And Kevin Smith was my teacher. What did he teach me? That if you really think you have what it takes, throw yourself out there and do it your way, don't screw over the people who are helping you. I know how much this film is going to cost, and it is not cheap. I need to raise $30-$50,000. And I could take this screenplay and shop it around to studios, and you know what? I know one would bite, I know I could get a larger budget than I ever dreamed. Am I that good? No way. I am just that confident about this. Filmmaking and screenwriting burns my soul, it is not something you can teach, you either have it or you don't, plain and simple. Do I know if I have it? I want to find out. I hate money, I hate asking for it, I hate the pursuit of it. Being flat broke before, it was my own fault, spending too much sometimes. But as I have been trying to further my education the past three years, it has fallen downhill fast for me. But I don't care, I know this money can be raised. And how do I think it will be done? Not miracles, just determination and the human spirit. I believe this is my chance. I don't know what my life is meant for otherwise. If this is not my purpose, I have no purpose, I have no other reason to breath. That's what filmmaking means to me, that is what movies means to me---it is the air I breath and the food I eat. My dream beyond is simple, it has been the same since I saw 'Clerks.' Meet Kevin Smith on equal footing, as a filmmaker who got it done. I am sure he hears how much he inspires people, well he has inspired me more than words can say. My close friends know how deep this runs for me. I just want to shake his hand one day and say thank you.

So now I ask you, how the fuck can you say no to that? A chance.  That's all he needs.

7 - MY GIGANTIC MISTAKE

I was still living with Dad, and still attending my friend's kid's football games. I even bought a new car. A little bit sooner than I had planned, but it worked out. Something was still missing. I wanted some kind of relationship.

In November 2010, I reconnected with N. I had met him a few years earlier at physical therapy and we just sort of drifted apart. Nothing major. Now that I had the internet back, I was always looking for something to get into. On Veteran's Day, I found that something. Little did I know how wrong it would be.

I hung out with N that night and we went to a few places, drinking many beers and getting free dinners. It was a fun time, I'm not gonna lie. I started hanging out with him more and more, sleeping over at his place, spending MY money. He didn't have a job either, so we could sleep all afternoon and drink all night.

The more I stayed with N, the more upset dad got. He finally told me to get my shit and get out of his house. That was fine, I would just stay with N, until we found a place together. We weren't intimate, just friends, but I still thought of him as my boyfriend. I guess in girl world that doesn't seem as ridiculous as it sounds.

He and I shared one major thing in common, back pain. He introduced me to pain medication and anti-anxiety medication. Holy shit! This stuff was awesome! I finally felt good, and normal! Why wouldn't my doctor prescribe this to me? Oh yeah, because I didn't have insurance and the VA was my primary care provider.

In December, we were given* (for $100) the name and address of a pain clinic that accepted new, out of state patients without a referral. This place was in Georgia. So one day, we packed up and drove there. The process took all day, but I was finally seen and given the prescriptions we drove down there for. Finding a pharmacy to fill the prescriptions, on the other hand, was a complete bitch! Apparently this "pain clinic" was a joke and the "doctor" was being investigated by the DEA. Well fucking fab!

After finally finding a few different locations to get my meds filled, we were broke. I mean, I was broke. (he never had any money.) He was able to make friends with a couple from the pain clinic and they let us stay in their hotel room with them. The next day, N sold some of my meds to the nice couple for travel money and I pawned some of my jewelry for the rest to get us back home.

When we got back to his place, he started selling more of my medication. His grandmother didn't like what was going on and they argued and he and I left. We got a hotel room for a few days, just down the street.

He kept doing what he was doing and I just kind of sat by and watched. He fronted one guy, D, a few pain pills, only he never paid up. I was tasked to call and threaten him, by saying I would let the police know about his hit and run earlier that day. This was all going wrong.

D came by the room earlier to leave his CD collection as collateral until he could come up with the money he owed us. N & I agreed to never let him in the room again. We met him outside to get his CDs, then he came by later and knocked on our hotel room door. I was in the bathroom at the time, or I would have answered the door. Instead, N answered the door and things got raw.

I just finished washing my hands, when I opened the bathroom door and a gun was pointed at my face. I was ordered to strip, put my clothes back on, then to get out of the bathroom and in the main room with everyone else. Everyone else included myself, N, his friend J, D and two masked men, one wielding a gun. The two masked men made everyone, except D, undress and give them our cell phones. They shouted they wanted our money and our drugs. The only drugs I had possession of were what I refer to as my "crazy pills" and they took most of those, along with my laptop, cellphone and purse, which I tried to fight them for. (Hey, it's a gal's purse. Do not fuck with a chick and her purse! ) But I let go and they ran off. I called the police, then ran after them. I know it's crazy, but I wanted to see if they were on foot or in a getaway car. Anything I could give the police.

I ran into one of the hotel clerks out back in the parking lot and she said she didn't see or hear anything. I walked around front and met a slew of local police officers. I talked to a few and described what went on. While giving my statement, I realized I couldn't say N was selling my meds, because, well that's illegal, and I didn't want him to go to jail so I made something up.

The police all left, eventually and we went to sleep. The next day I had to borrow N's car so I could drive to my dad's and pick up a spare key to my car, and a spare purse. Since I always clip my keys to my purse, when the robbers took my purse, they took my car keys as well. While I was out, I got a replacement phone and tried calling the room the entire time I was on my way back, but the line was busy. I was trying to tell N, he should get our things and get out of the room.

He was still on the phone when I got back to the room, talking to the police about the robbery. Not long after he hung up, there was a knock at the door and it was the police. This time, they were there to arrest N, for some outstanding warrant or fine or something. I have no idea. They took him away, and there I was, lonely, scared, broken and broke. How did this happen? How did I let my life get so out of control? I was such an idiot!

6 - AND THEN IT WAS 2010

I had pretty much given up on the idea of ever having a "normal" life. I had succumbed to suck. I expected life to consist of being poor, overly dramatic and extremely verbally abusive. I couldn't change it, so I adapted and tried to deal with it. I became emotionally withdrawn so the screaming of hurtful words wouldn't cut so deep. Mind you, at times I screamed back and when I did, they were golden zingers. I'm kind of an expert at being snarky, but the snark only escalated the arguing and never diffused it. I learned later, to just keep all the snark to myself, or express it later on facebook or twitter.

Having a relationship with anyone was never even on my mind. How could it be? I was almost 34, with no job and living with my dad. There were a lot of nights when I cried myself to sleep and a lot of days wishing I could just drink and forget about my situation.

At the end of March my favorite Uncle died. The poor man had so many health problems and his heart just couldn't take it any more. He was my dad's younger brother and it effected him tremendously. T's death caused turmoil within my already dysfunctional family. My dad, his younger sister and her husband all ended up fighting over T's things. Of course dad was being paranoid, thinking they were damaging or taking the things that dad had claimed as his and he ended up flipping out on their last trip to T's apartment. He got them to pull over at a truck stop, just outside of town and got out of the car, then called me to come pick him up. Later that day, they dropped off the last of what was left in T's apartment.

We still had to go through the funeral arrangements according to T's last wishes. Since he died across state lines, it was hell trying to get his death certificate, but eventually everything worked out and we were able to put him to rest and he was finally at peace.

Throughout the past year, I began to pray on a daily basis. Not only for myself and my situation, but mainly for others. During the first week of April, it seemed my praying had paid off. I received a decision from the VA regarding my disability appeal. They had awarded me 100%, which, according to a lot of people, is pretty rare. I was awarded 3 month's back pay and was finally able to see the light.

I was able to pay back money that I owed after borrowing it from Mr.B, because my car had been repossessed about a month prior. I was able to buy a big new flat screen LCD tv and new clothes! I could finally buy makeup NOT from the dollar store! Hey, it's the little things.

I could go out to eat with my friends and pay for their meal, I could go out and drink! I was excited, but cautious. I had to form a plan. Since dad & I were on section 8 to help with the rent, I had to notify them and the food stamp office of the change in my income. With section 8, I had 3 months to decide if I wanted to move out on my own or stay with dad, and be removed from the program.

I had been so used to living with dad, the exhausting arguments and continuous belittling, I decided to stay with him and help pay the rent & bills. My plan was to wait until my Social Security Disability decision, then move out so I could afford to pay for his rent AND my rent. Only things didn't work out the way I planned.

I kept getting denial letters from the Social Security office and finally had to hire an attorney to help me. By now, I was going out 3-4 times a week, by myself, drinking, usually margaritas. This helped me cope with my living situation. Usually, after drinking a pitcher or two of yummy margaritas, I would go drunk shopping. Stupid, yes, but also fun.

5 - FIGHTING THE SYSTEM

It seemed like a quick eternity had passed since I had lost my job a year ago. I was alive with a roof over my head and food to eat. There were small bright spots in my life of suck, but mostly suck. Like eating. Dinner became my one meal of the day. I would have coffee in the morning and Dad would be ready for dinner around 4pm. Yes, seriously. Sometimes he would even want to eat earlier than that. I saw my life turn into the Early Bird Special. The only good thing about eating one meal a day is the tremendous amount of weight I lost. The bad thing, was listening to my tummy cry for food every night.

I was slowly getting myself in check. I hadn't worked for a year and it was time to do something about my situation. Most of the ideas came from my therapist and sometimes my Psychiatrist would utter a sentence that didn't make me want to crawl in a hole.

I filed for, and received food stamps, which helped tremendously. Before, I had been too proud, and quickly learned to get over myself. I needed food and couldn't afford it, so I gladly accepted the food stamp card and anything they were willing to give me.

The next item on my agenda was filing for an appeal to my VA disability decision. When I was discharged in 2001, I filed for disability with the Veteran's Administration, and received 30% disability. That extra money each month kept my ass afloat for a number of months. Now, I was being told by my psychiatrist to appeal that decision, so I did.

I can't tell you how I started this process, or how I even completed it. I just know I did. My mind is like a sponge. It absorbs as much as it can, then quickly gets rung out, forgetting pretty much everything that was there, only remembering bits and pieces, not necessarily in chronological order.

Once I completed the VA stuff, I filed for Social Security Disability. If you have never filed for Disability, it is a major pain in the ass! The application process is a grueling as taking the SAT, only the questions are about your life, job & medical history. This is when I found out that I had obtained and lost 17 jobs in the past 15 years. Let that sink in for a minute. Yeah, you don't feel like such a loser now, do ya?

4 - FIGHTING DEPRESSION

I couldn't have made it through the next 5-6 months without my friends. They were always there to listen to me vent. They had kids in sports which let me volunteer at their games, which in turn got me out of the house.

I didn't care what I had to do, I did what needed to be done, so long as it got me away from crazy town (aka: dad's house). Most of the time I worked concessions for the middle school football games, sometimes I worked the gate to collect entrance fees. I was always guaranteed to be out of the house for a couple of hours to work these games, which was awesome, for me. Dad started to get paranoid and accused me of "whoring around". That was great. I never went anywhere, but the one place I did go, I was accused of lying about it. I could understand how one would confuse my attending a middle school function and being a town whore from my attire of khaki shorts and team t-shirt. #rollseyes

Soon, high school football started, and I spent most of my Friday nights cheering on N's nephew, who was a senior. I went to as many games as my pocketbook would allow, tailgating with the parents, and cheering for my high school alma mater. I felt happy and relieved, and only a tiny bit creepy that I was the only one there without kids.

3 - LIFE, DEFEATED

With Spring and Summer quickly approaching, I tried to think of things that would get me out of the house and away from the crazy. See, my dad is a drama queen(?) and extremely paranoid. About everything. He also has dementia. So when he can't remember where he put something, he gets paranoid and thinks that I did something to it. Arguing ensues. I leave.

Since I was always strapped for cash, I would usually go for a walk, ending up at my friend D's house, or I would go to the library. Once I found out about True Blood, I watched the whole first season just in time to catch the beginning of season 2. While watching season 1, I realized that the series was based on the Sookie Stackhouse books, it was ON! I went to the library on a mission to find the books and read them in order. Unfortunately, our local library is just pathetic and sad. With the little bit of money I had saved, I ordered the box set from Amazon.

I was set. I had plenty of book reading to keep my mind off how much life sucked and I could go anywhere and read. Then I made a costly mistake. I left the boxed set of books sitting on my coffee table, in plain sight and Dad saw them. Quizzically he asked about the titles of the books, in which all the titles have the word "dead". I tried to explain the books in a light-hearted kind of way, but as soon as I mentioned vampires, werewolves and witches, he was not having it. Not in his house! And they were ordered removed from the premises.

Let me explain. When I was in high school, my friends and I saw the movie "The Craft" and we wanted to be witches. We played around with it, bought some spell books and silly stuff like that but never took it seriously. Dad found my books and ordered them out of the house because "they cause bad luck!" He is extremely religious. He watches his crazy, cable access pastor on a daily basis and he will not have anything "sinful" in his home! You heard me. I could not even drink any kind of alcohol in his house. I know! (I'll explain how I got around this, later.)

The one thing that gave me a small amount of joy was now banished from my home. Of course I still read the books, I just put different book jackets on the outside of them and could not read them peacefully and in the open. I hid a few books in the back of my dresser and took the rest down to my friend N's house for her to babysit. I would switch out completed books for the unread ones until I was finished with the set. I felt like I was sneaking crack into a prison cell, but they were just books. To me. To my dad, they were blasphemy.

2 - ANOTHER ONE OPENS, A LITTLE

It didn't take long for me to settle into Dad's place. After all, it's the same home I grew up in. I never thought, in a million years that I would end up back there. Actually I did think it. More like I had nightmares about it. I still do.

Here I was, about to turn 33 and I was living back home with my dad and nothing to show for my life. I was sinking into a deep depression. I felt the worst about what I was doing to my kitty cats, Elton & Johnny. They went from having a whole apartment to themselves, to having to share everything with my dad's 5 cats. I could tell they wanted out of there as much as I did. I felt like such a loser.

I still tried, day after day, to find a job only eventually giving up. Not finding work was just depressing me even more. With my dad controlling my life now, I couldn't stay up late and had to get up early every morning, because that was his schedule and my sleeping in late was ruining his daily routine of doing, um, stuff. I was tasked with cleaning every day. If there is one thing you seriously need to know about me, I HATE CLEANING! I hate it more than flesh eating spiders! Okay, maybe not that badly, but I do hate it. I have to be in the mood to clean, for instance, if I'm watching Hoarders, I get the urge to clean for some reason.

My daily routine was get up, go outside to smoke a ciggie (yes, outside and it sucked) sweep the upstairs and the stairs, and every other day, mop and dust. How did I survive this nightmare of suck? I. Have. No. Idea. I tried to twitter as much as I could, and I think that gave me some sanity. But as a form of punishment, my dad cancelled the internet service. See, that which he does not understand, ie: computers, he finds threatening. Since he had no idea what I would be doing on my laptop all afternoon, he thought I was doing something "bad" or "wrong."

Without an internet connection, I had an excuse to leave the house and go to the library. Only the connection at the library was seriously restricted. I couldn't use facebook and had a hard time getting my twitter to work. That defeated the whole purpose of me wanting the internet. SHIT!!!

#lostwithouttwitter #nohope

1- WHEN ONE DOOR CLOSES

After taking a long hiatus from blogging and writing, I was recently inspired to write after reading A Walk In The Snark. Why was I inspired? Well, read the damn book and you'll find out. Also, realizing that I had a lot to share had a little to do with it. Just a little.

Let me take you back to November of 2008. I had an awesome apartment, a cool, well paying job, and life was pretty decent. Okay, so the job was pretty annoying. Actually it was the people I worked with who were annoying, the job part was actually not bad. I had gotten in trouble a few times regarding my attitude, well, because I don't like being treated like I'm not good enough, or like I'm a dumb ass.

One afternoon, after work, I was getting in my car to go to a physical therapy appointment (I have major back problems; long story) only I couldn't go anywhere. See, the parking situation at work was completely jacked. We had to park around the back of the building like we were all waiting in line at a drive thru. First one in is the first to leave, and so on and so forth. Since I was one of the last to arrive, I was near the back of the line of cars. There were two cars parked behind me and I was in a bit of a hurry to get the hell out of there. Myself and another lady were trying to back out of the cluster fuck of this parking sitch, only one car was preventing us. I got on my cell and called the after hours number so I could get in touch with the girl and have her move her car. Long story short, I hurt someone's feelings during that phone call and was sacked the following day.

Normally, being fired is no biggie for me. I usually find a job pretty quickly and move on with life. Only this time, the economy was in the shitter and there were no jobs to be found. The jobs that WERE there, were being fought for by hundreds of applicants. For the next 3 months, my job became looking for a job. In the beginning I was a little selective about what jobs I applied for. After a month of interviews and zero jobs, I started applying for every job I found. Still nothing. I couldn't even get a call back from McDonald's! How embarrassing!

It didn't take long for my money to disappear. Rent, bills, fuel for my car, oh and food, my checking account was as empty as my tummy. I finally broke down and realized I couldn't do this any more. I wasn't going to find a job, and I didn't have enough money to pay for another month of rent or bills.

That's when I did it. I broke down and called my dad. I told him what happened and that I needed to come home. Please understand, this was the absolute last thing in the world I ever wanted to do. I'm sure some of you understand, and other's are probably thinking, "Big deal. Living with your parent's isn't all that bad. At least you'll have a place to stay!" Yeah. To those of you who think that, you have never met my father. And once you did, you'd eat those words. You would eat those words and like it!

Don't get me wrong, I love my dad. He had a hard job of raising me on his own and worked really hard his whole life trying to keep the bills paid and clothes on my back. We just have a toxic kind of relationship. Have you ever seen what Sulfuric acid does to, well, anything? He's the sulfuric acid in this analogy. He gets in my mind and breaks me down, eating to the core of my soul until nothing can comfort me, except a pitcher of margaritas.

After telling him my situation, he agreed to let me move back and began to take control of my life. A big snow/ice storm was headed toward us and he wanted me moved out of the apartment before that hit. The only problem was my lack of funds. I wouldn't have enough money to move until a week after he wanted me to move. Alas, my ideas didn't mean shit anymore, and this was something I needed to get used to.

Moving was the worst experience imaginable. How bad was it? Imagine all the catty Real Housewives in one room, all yelling at you, but they are in the form of one man, my dad. Oh my GOD! What have I done?!?

#despairdespair #someonekillmenow

Why Not Me? - 23 Nov 10

Why can't it ever be just about me? Why can't I ever be the one that person can't stop thinking about? Why is love always a one way street? Why is loving so easy, but being in love so hard?

Yes I'm bitching today. I deserve a good bitch fest right along with a good cry fest. Things I don't understand are getting to me and I just break down.

I had an anxiety attack today. Everything was fine. I was sleeping next to a great guy then the phones start ringing and the yelling from outside started. The mother of his child and said child were outside. No biggie, I was worried something was wrong, but he went down to take care of it while I stayed upstairs, mind wandering.

A short while passes and he comes to put some clothes on. I ask if he's leaving, he says no. I ask for one thing, to please bring my purse to me. He does not do that.

Hours go by and I feel trapped in this room. I wanted my purse because I keep EVERYTHING in there and I don't know his baby mama, so I didn't want to give her the chance to get her grubby little paws in it.

My friends started calling my phone, yet no one brought me my purse. Oh no, but the bitch did answer my phone. What the fuck is THAT about? Well, shit, she's got to my phone, so she's been searching through my purse. All but one muscle relaxer was gone, so she took about 6. I was missing about $80 which isn't bad because it could have been worse.

Oh, I got to my purse, because the phone rang and I went to give it to him, but no one was there. He left. Didn't tell me, just left. This made me feel so embarrassed, ashamed, hurt, lonely, and worthless. Also I was angry. Angry with him and angry with myself.

I try to call him, but no answer. I try again and again and again. Nothing. Now the phone is turned off. I was in my car, not paying attention and almost hit someone head on because I was in the wrong lane. I pull over and just cry. Why had I let myself fall into this again? I thought older meant wiser?

I pull myself together and drive back to his place and talk on the phone to a friend. While talking to her, I see his relative leaving and ask if he was home yet. She comes over to talk to me and said I could go in and wait for him and we talk about what happened today. She knows I feel hurt and talks to me for a few minutes. That made me feel a little better.

I go inside and sit for a few minutes and talk to another friend about what happened and he shows up. He can tell I'm pissed and starts making excuses and doesn't get why I'm so angry. I didn't know how to explain why I was so angry, so I just did my best. He said he understood and was apologetic. He was also apologetic for bitchface going into my purse and answering my phone. At the time I didn't know money or my meds were missing.

Then I sat down to really ask him what he thought of me. He didn't seem to know how to answer it. I told him that I cared about him and I think the problem with me today was that I let myself care too much and it hurt when I didn't get a second thought. He said he cared about me, but I just don't know. I think it's more in the "hey buddy" kind of way and I look at it as the "hey baby" kind of way. And it hurts to think that way.

I just needed to vent because I feel alone and unloved right now. I just needed to feel sorry for myself for a few minutes. I'll get over it once my medication starts kicking in.

Manic Panic is OUT!! - 4 Oct 10

So, after two and a half weeks of trying and trying to get the blue then green out of my hair, I thought I had it mastered when I colored my hair brown. Well, parts of it had a greenish tint to it, but it wasn't that visible.

You'd think I'd be happy with that, right? Nope. I was mad that my golden hair and blonde highlights were gone. So I get a highlight kit, and pull my hair through the cap and apply the mixture to my hair and wait. I figure if I wait long enough, it will just bleach my hair to a light light blonde, well I was half right. I pulled off the plastic wrap around my head and my highlighted hair was green, like a lime green. Aww fuck!

I rinsed my hair, shampooed and conditioned and dried and yep, my hair was bright green instead of bright blonde. I take my complaints to the interweb on twitter, where a follower suggested I try the shampoo Prell and mix baking soda, equal parts, together then wash my hair with that.

The next day I want to the gym then tanning bed and afterwards went to Rite Aid and got the needed ingredients. A box of Arm & Hammer and a bottle of Prell. I race home and make the mixture, when it too becomes a lime green. Aww double fuck! Taking a chance, I shampooed my hair with the concoction and low and behold it worked! It took the green out of my hair! Granted I had to condition my hair for about 15 minutes so it wouldn't feel like hay, but still. It looks of normal color now!! Of course, now is when dad says something to me about my hair, like "Aren't you aware of what you're doing when you mess with your hair?" Oh shut up! If I was aware, I wouldn't have made so many mistakes! Der.

So, to get manic panic residue out of your hair, use 1 tbl spoon Prell shampoo 1 tbl spoon baking soda, mix together to get a greenish paste then wash hair. I left the mixture in my hair for 10 minutes, for extra insurance. You need to condition, deep condition your hair after you wash the shampoo out or your hair will be fried! It'll probably be a good idea to trim a little off the ends if you can, just to get rid of the fried dead ends after all the processing.

DYE ANOTHER DAY - 30 Sept 10

Well mother fucking shit. My hair still has a light green tint to it, no matter how much of the UnColor I use. While, yes, it got a lot of it out, and I am grateful, it didn't remove all of the Blue Manic Panic from my hair. At least no one said anything to me about my hair being a weird color today, so that's a plus.

So what do I do now? Deal with it? Fuck that shit. I went to Sally Beauty Supply again today. There was a different girl working this time, thank GOD, because I didn't want a confrontation about that other shit not working well. Which was partially my fault since I don't own a sit under dryer.

This time I bought a packet of powder of the UnColor, for permanent color, a bottle of creme color and activator. That's right, I'm going to try to color over this bullshit green. It's in my hair right now, and is supposed to stay in for 35 minutes.

Before I colored, I snipped a strand of green from my hair and mixed up the powder packet to test it on my hair. If that UnColor worked, I really wouldn't need to dye my hair a normal color. But it didn't work. In fact, the strand looked greener when I rinsed it out! Fucking hell! I'm glad I did a strand test for that shit! I'm also doing a strand test for the hair color, but was too impatient to wait 35 minutes before I put it on my own hair. I know, I may be sorry. But that's the thing, if my hair turns out no different, or still green, well, I'll just have to fucking deal with it, won't I? After all, I did this to myself and I will never ever, ever, ever, ever, EVER, FUCKING EVER, use manic panic on my hair ever again!

So heed my warning, if you ever get a wild hair to turn your hair a funky shade of off the wall blue, red, pink, purple, black, green, whatever, use a temporary GEL or SPRAY that WASHES OUT IMMEDIATELY! Because manic panic will never come out completely. I am pretty sure of this. Even though it says semi/demi/temporary, whatever, it's NOT! Only the vibrance is temporary, another, shitty faded shade is permanent.

I guess I'll let you know how my hair turns out when I rinse and condition my hair.

*I'm baaaack!!! Well, my hair is now an ugly brownish color, but most of the green is gone.

I say "most" because there are still small twinges of green if you look really close. Well I'm done fucking with my hair for now, but I read on a site that to try using Prell shampoo mixed with #20 peroxide gel (found in your beauty store like Sally's) then mesh it in your hair, leave it in for about 20-30, then rinse out. That should get rid of your manic panic. If all else fails, just dye over it. Good luck!

GET THAT MANIC PANIC OUTTA MY HAIR - 29 Sept 10

On September 18th, I thought it would be an awesome idea to dye my hair blue for the Colt's game the following day. It did look pretty sweet, and everyone I tailgated with at the game thought it looked cool too, especially the kids.

I thought it would be a cool thing to do, since Manic Panic© is temporary hair dye, it will just wash right out. Sure it might take a few washes, but it would come out. Right? WRONG! That is so fucking wrong I don't even know how wrong it is, but it's way wrong.

I wash my hair the next day, a couple of times and some blue rinses out, yet my hair is still blue. Tuesday I do the same thing, only it turns a lighter shade of blue. For the next few days I wash my hair twice a day and all it does is turns my hair a lighter shade of blue. Friday, my hair now looks teal. I tried to find tips and tricks online, and only came up with mixing shampoo with some peroxide to get it out. Nope. Didn't work. My hair still looks teal or aqua, almost green. I tried washing my hair and leaving the shampoo on for 10 minutes, nothing. I tried washing my hair with laundry detergent and it just made my hair squeaky clean and hard, so I had to deep condition that shit.

I walk out of the tanning bed Monday and a guy driving by stops and asks me if I knew my hair was green. Thanks fucknuts, as if I didn't have a complex already by people asking me why my hair was blue/teal/green, you have to make it a point to stop your vehicle and ask me if I knew my hair was an oddball color. Really? Go fuck yourself, douche fuck.

Tuesday I had to go to the VA for an appointment, with teal hair. At least no one there said anything to me about it. Wednesday, 10 days later, while at the gym, a lady said my hair went from blue to a greenish color. What happened? Oh fuck everyone! I'm so sick of this shit, I go to Sally Beauty supply and look for some Color Opps! from L'Oreal but couldn't find it. I ask the lady if there was anything I could use to get this shit out and she showed me a little teal/greenish bottle made specifically for temporary/demi hair dye removal.

As I type this, I'm sitting here with that stuff lathered in my hair and a cap on my head with high hopes that as soon as I wash it out, my hair will be back to normal. So, I'm going to log off and go wash it out then update the blog with my results.

*I'm back. As I exited the shower, I kept my eyes averted from my hair. I wanted to be surprised. I got dressed, brushed my hair then looked in the mirror. I could tell that parts of my hair still had a bluish/green tint. Shit!

I dried my hair and noticed that most of the color was gone, but some still remained in the front, which is the lightest part of my hair. Great.

So, here I am on round two, to try and get the rest of this shit out of my hair. It would have probably all came out the first time if I had the necessary tools. The directions say to sit under a pre-heated hair dryer for 30 minutes. The girl at Sally Beauty Supply told me to leave it in for 15 minutes. Well, being that I don't own a sit-under kind of hair dryer, I applied some heat with a regular hair dryer and left it on for 25 minutes.

This go around, I will try leaving it on for a little longer. Once I lathered my hair, I applied heat from my blow dryer for a little longer, then applied the cap over my hair. I hope this next time works because I'm getting tired of washing and drying my hair so many damn times a day. I'll be back with another update as soon as I get this taken care of. UGH. Pain in the ASS!

**Well attempt number two is out of the way and my hair looks slightly less green than the above pic, but I'm not gonna lie, that shit is still in there. Only now, it looks like light green streaks in my hair and it doesn't look greenish/teal all over. At least I feel somewhat normalish now with regular colored hair, for the most part, and a bit freaky with the green streaks.

This go round, I put the shit in my hair, lathered it up and blowed it dry for a few minutes, put the cap on my head and sat for 35 minutes. Before I rinsed, I blowed it dry for a few more minutes then rinsed, washed & conditioned. Next time I'm leaving that shit in my hair for a fucking hour, by GOD!

I'll admit I'm a bit disappointed, but hey, at least my hair no longer looks like an Oompa Loompa.

The Silent Treatment - 14 Sept 2010

Well it's been a few months since I last wrote and ironically not much has changed. Dad is still being a whiny little bitch ass and I still have to deal with his crabby assed drama. Right now he is giving me the silent treatment because we had an argument over the weekend and he threatened to move out, again. Now when I talk to him, he just nods his head, yes or no. It's kind of nice, but a bit annoying when you try to have a conversation with someone.

I still have no job. I've pretty much given up on the idea that I will become employed by anyone, ever. I am still trying to get social security disability, but those hard nosed fuckdogs keep denying me. This time I've hired a lawyer. Well, not technically hired. If I win my case they get money, if not, I don't pay them shit, which is good because they are expensive. I figure I should qualify for disability with social security since I am considered 100% disabled with the military. I told the attorney that I could give a shit less about getting the money, of which the amount is laughable, I just want the health insurance. If I had medicaid or medicare, I wouldn't have to go to the fucking VA every time I needed to see a doctor, but instead get stuck with a third rate has been who was last in their graduating class and a serious lack of bedside manner.

So here I sit, watching tv, which is basically my nightly routine. Well, in the summer I don't have much of a tv routine since so many shows come and go and aren't worth clicking "view" on the remote guide. Most of my days consist of my getting up and going to the gym for an hour or so, then the tanning bed. I come home, *clean the house, then think of something to do to get me out of the house again so I'm not stuck inside this waft of uncomfortableness. If I can't think of anything I usually take a nap, then start dinner (if dad is eating) around 4:30. I say, if he's eating, because usually when he's mad at me, he will refuse to eat anything I cook. After I eat I either watch tv or play online unless my friend's son has a football game, or I feel like going out to drink. Depending on how my day has been, sometimes I'm in a desperate need for a few drinks. That means, if Dad is being a crybaby bitch and screaming at me like a banshee, I'll need to unwind and forget the torment that I live in.

What's funny about these arguments that he and I have is that he always blames me for it. I'm the one who never does anything around the house, like clean (*please see above paragraph.) I'm also the one who instigates the silent treatment, and is very mean and hurtful to him. I find that all laughable since I'm the one who's always getting yelled at and treated with silence when I try to be nice.

On a brighter note, I'm excited about next Sunday. I'm going to Indianapolis for the Colts/Giants game. I'm SO excited I can hardly stand it. I'm going to paint my nails blue, color my hair blue, dress in my colts gear and tailgate all day! I've got the magnets for my car, and a colts flag, my hotel room and my tickets ready! I plan on getting up there around 2pm, partying until 7, then getting to my seat in time for the pre-game excitement! Hmm, partying from 2-7 doesn't really seem like long enough, maybe I should get there around noon or 1? Hell, by Saturday I'll be wanting to leave at midnight so I can get there early enough! LOL Well fuck, anything to get me out of the house a day early would be awesome. THEN, in October, I'm taking a friend with me to another Colts game. It will be exciting, but we won't have as much time to tailgate since the game starts at 1. I'm thinking about going to a game in November, but haven't gotten tickets yet. Since the Colts first game was a bust, I'll have to see how they do before I get another ticket. I might be able to get a ticket for cheap if they start sucking this year! lol

I'm going to try to write more blogs, but I'll have to start kicking my ass to get motivated. Since I'm not doing anything, I might not have much to say for a while, but then again, I'll have plenty of time to write about nothing.

NEW CAR, OLD WOES - 13 July 2010

I admit, I know I haven't been an avid, daily blogger that I once was, but I haven't had much to really write about here lately. Since I'd rather not trouble my twitter followers 140 characters at a time, or spill my guts on facebook, I figured it was time for me to blog the bullshit.

A few months ago I was awarded 100% disability from the VA for my medical conditions. This helped solve my past year's money woes in a HUGE way. No longer did I have to worry about if I had money for gas or enough to pay the bills. I payed my debts, well, not all of them, but the most pressing. I started saving my money and was able to take a small vacation to Pensacola Beach, FL right before the oil washed up on shore.

That solo trip did a number on my poor little car. My a/c wasn't working as well and my car started riding rough. I sent her to the shop, but it seemed that was only a temporary fix. When the a/c was on, it worked great, but my car sounded horrible and vibrated harder than a super charged dildo.

Back when I first received my money, Dad and I talked about my getting a new car. I didn't think much of it at the time because I loved my car and it was running just fine. Well after shit started getting worse, I decided to start seriously looking at cars again.

I spent one afternoon and looked around, but with my current car showing as having been repossessed, it was difficult to be financed, regardless of my income. So I took to the internet and kept searching. Every time I saw a commercial about pre-owned cars, I went to their website and browsed their SUVs. That's what I wanted this time, an SUV. They are roomier, have more power, and are a little tougher than a regular car.

One website had a few cars that I liked, so I emailed them my information and the next day, got a call from one of the salesmen. I told him about my credit troubles and he seemed confident that he could find something for me and get me financed. We made an appointment to meet that Friday afternoon to look around and see what we could come up with.

Thursday, the 8th, I drove down to my friend's to start house sitting for the week, since they were leaving for vacation. Friday I got up, got something to eat and headed to the dealership. It was a shitty, rainy day, so I didn't have any expectations that I would find a car I loved and wanted right away.

The salesman drove me around to show me some of the SUVs and I told him what I had in mind. I was hoping for maybe a Jeep Grand Cherokee, Ford Escape or something similar, preferable in Blue or a neutral color like white or grey. Well he showed me a gold Suzuki XL7. I didn't want it because it was gold. I know, sounds petty, but I couldn't help it. Then he asked if I wanted to drive it, so I did.

I don't know if it was because the car was so much newer than what I had been used to driving or if it was because it was just nice, but I really liked the car. We decided to get my application started and see what we could come up with as far as payments. I decided that I couldn't make the decision that day and wanted my dad to check out the car. He said I could drive the car to Frankfort and let my dad check it out and see what he said.

So I drove the car to let my dad look at it and give me his opinion. He didn't like the color and that's pretty much all he said regarding the car. He then told me to give it a rest and not push buying a car. Then he said it was up to me because it would be my car.

See, the whole point of my driving to Frankfort was so I could get his opinion about the car. I wanted to take him for a drive, let him get a feel for it and tell me what he thought. What the hell did he do? Stand there, look at it, read the sticker, smoked a cigarette and told me I was rushing into things. UGH!

The salesman called and said he could get my payments between $265-$275/month and that sounded pretty damn reasonable to me, so I told him to proceed with the paperwork. On my way back, I called my insurance company to see what the damage would be if I were to purchase this vehicle. Only $30 more than what I was currently paying, so that's not bad.

On my way back, I decided that I really wanted this car. I was getting excited about the fact that I was about to own this car. I didn't think about much else, just getting things done and getting this car. I made it back to the dealership and finished the paperwork. A few minutes later, the car was mine.

I was pretty excited and nervous all at the same time. Fuuuuck!! My dad was gonna be pist! I went to my Saturn and cleaned all my stuff out & threw all the trash away, so I didn't look like a complete slob. Once I exchanged keys, got into my new car and started driving away I had a split second of regret. I almost cried. I was leaving behind what I knew, for something new. If you know me, you know how much I cringe at change. It's so comfortable staying with what you know, that the thought of change just scared me.

I drove off and was just a happy fucking little camper, driving back to my friends house to let the dogs out because I was sure they'd piss on the carpet if I didn't make it back soon. Then my dad called. He asked if I got my car back and said I should just wait to buy a car and I just rush into things. He said I was "rushy, rushy." Ohhhh, little did he know exactly how "rushy, rushy" I was.

At that point I went from excited and elated to worried and freaked the fuck out. Oh hell, what was I going to do? I couldn't tell him right then over the phone because he would have flipped out like Mel Gibson on a all nighter.

All weekend I did nothing but fester and suffer, worrying about how and when I was going to tell my dad. All the questions were answered for me when his doctor called me and set up an appointment for him Tuesday at 1:30. Well, I knew when, but how?

I stressed about this the entire morning I woke up and the entire ride to his house. I walked in, thankfully he wasn't outside, went downstairs to see him and he was already in a bad mood. Aww fuck! Turns out he thinks my cat pissed on the counter. Now, I've had one cat for 10 years and the other for 5 years. In this time, neither of them have ever done anything remotely like this. Sure they may be rotten little shits at times, but they know where and how to use the litter box.

So, he's pist at me because he thinks I'm a bad mommy, spoil my cats and don't discipline them. Uhh, right. My cats love me, they know better, they just might not like him. Maybe, if it WAS one of my cats, they were mad about me being gone? Who knows. Maybe it's one of his nasty bad assed cats? He says they never get on counters and shit, well he's never SEEN them, but I have.

Anyway, we walk upstairs to leave for his appointment and as he's grabbing the door handle, I ask him to please don't be mad at me. He looks at me all worried, opens the door then gets pissed off.

He starts saying how I never include him, ask for his opinion, blah blah blah, basically all the things I TRIED to do, but he didn't feel like doing. At the doctor's office he seemed to rotate from good mood to pist mood.

After the doctor, we went to a few different places all the while I get to hear him bitch about everything and of course, me. When I left he was still in a grumpy, pissy assed mood, but I felt so SO much better. At least I no longer felt like I was lying or hiding something from him, whether or not he was pist, at least he finally knew. Thank the FUCK!

While typing this blog, Dad called and apologized for being mister grumpy pants today. He said it was because he felt bad, and I knew that, but it felt good that he apologized to me.

Hopefully he likes my new car and if not, he can get over it, because I like it.

QUITCHER BITCHIN! - 25 MAR 10

Yeah, yeah, I know it's been a while, a long while, since my last blog. Sorry, but with Twitter and Facebook updates, I really don't feel much need to blog the shit going on in my head because I update my status all day with the shit that's clogging my brain.

It's been a little over a year that I've been living with my dad and things haven't really changed much. Well they have, just from bad to worse.

Last month my car was repo'd by my bank because I was 53 days late on my payment. That was horror, since I only owed the stupid fucking bank under $900 left on my loan. It's not my fault I had been broke as fuck! Shit, I tried to tell them, but those money grubbing bitches don't give a fuck. That sent things spiraling downward, out of control. I had to come up with the payoff amount, plus the cost of the repossession fees, which ended being about $1400 all together.

Well, Dad got most of the money & I borrowed some from a friend of mine. We will be paying them back until Summer is half over. On top of that, I had to find someone to drive me to the repo place to check over my car, go to the bank, pay them, then go to back to the repo place and pay them, THEN back out in the middle of nowhere to get my car. Well I found a friend who wasn't doing anything and she took my dad & I all over the place that day. I still owe her like a gazillion favors.

Things seemed to be okay once I got my car back, then March happened. March has been the longest month ever. Seriously. My Birthday was the 8th and that turned out to be a shitty day, as usual. What made it shitty was, I didn't get any funds put on my food stamp card for the month. What? I'm broke & unemployed, bitch gotsta eat! Anyway, I had to call & find out what the fuck happened & my idiot case worker didn't let me know she was still waiting on me to furnish information from the housing authority about how much dad & I pay in rent and that we are responsible for our utilities. Well, when I was in her office during our meeting, in February, I called and got that information faxed to her. She said she never got it, so I had my friend fax it to her this time, knowing it'd get there.

That wasn't good enough, so I got dressed, went and got the info and took it to her myself, you know, so she couldn't say she didn't receive it this time. Bitch. I got my food stamps a few days later, and a week's less of funds for food. Dad was pissed at me because *I* am the one who fucked this up and it was MY fault we were both broke all month, because we had to start paying back the money we borrowed to get my car back.

Well, when I got my food stamps he was still mad at me and not talking to me. My sister met me at the store to give me a gift card and buy me cupcakes. I brought the cupcakes home & got one along with some ice cream & dad smashed the rest of them. He was mad because he thought *I* spent money on them.

The anger never stopped, so that Friday I got some shit & stayed with my friend for the night. Which was nice, but I was half mad because I had to listen to the UK game on the radio for the first half, instead of getting to watch it, but I stayed and watched it that Saturday then went home.

When I got home, things seemed to be better, but the next few days after that, the silent treatment was in effect. Dad wouldn't talk to me, so I asked if he was mad at me and he would say no. Then he made some bit shit stink about how I left that weekend, blah, blah, blah. Then I went outside to clean out my car and *BOING* the front coil spring on my car broke. FUuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck!

The yelling commenced, like this shit was my fault, and we tried to figure out what to do. Since it was late Saturday afternoon, there wasn't much we could do until Monday. So, Monday morning, all fucking early, we got up and started talking about this shit. We were able to borrow some money, but had to walk to get it. I tried calling friends, but since it was Spring Break, no one could help, they were home with their kids. So, dad & I walked, in the cold rain, to get the check, then to my bank & cash the check. All in all, the walk was about 3 miles. It was about 3:30 so we couldn't do much else that day. Dad changed my tire, so when I had to drive it to get fixed, the broken spring wouldn't puncture my tire. The donut he put on my car was flat. Well i-fucking-magine that shit. He got our neighbor to take him to get air in the tire, then put it back on the car again.

The next morning, again very fucking earily, we went to get the used part, then take the car to get fixed. It took less than an hour, but things were fixed and aligned. The car was all better, but we now had even more to repay. We were left with just enough money to buy some food for the rest of the month and cigarettes for a few days. Now we are broke again and it's only March 25th, still 6 days left in this fucking month. At least I still have plenty of gas left in my car.

To cheer myself up, I went yesterday and got a chocolaty chocolate chip coffee drink from Starbucks, with a gift card a friend sent me for my birthday.

Things have since been calm and happy around the house, for now. We'll see how things go when the cats run out of food and dad runs out of sweets. Maybe I'll have to write another blog about that shit when it happens?

29 Dec 09 - WTF AM I DOING?

I hate feeling like I do right now. I don't even know how to describe it. I'm just here. I'm uninterested in everything. I took a trip to the library to get out of the house for a while, plus I noticed the books I borrowed were about 6 days overdue, so I brought them back. Now I'm here and I'm just uninterested in being here. I want to go home, but I don't. There's nothing to do there either, just get online and bore myself. Plus Dad is in a shit mood today as well & the tension is pretty thick inside the house. I'd go home & lie down, but I'm not really tired. I tried to clean the house, but Dad told me not to. What the fuck am I supposed to do with that? He told me I was gaining weight. Yay, I look super fat today. Well I feel it. It's Christmas time, aren't we supposed to gain a little weight over the holidays? Plus I'm bloated like a mother fucker because it's period time for me. So thanks. Thanks for letting me know I'm a huge lazy worthless fat ass. I would probably cry, but I don't feel like it. Frankly I don't feel much for showing any kind of emotion today. What the fuck is that about?

It's already 1:30pm and I could give two fucks less about today. I got up & showered early because my hair was greasy looking and I was probably starting to smell bad, as I hadn't showered since Saturday. I think it was Saturday. I get confused about what day it is anymore. I only know today is Tuesday because my clock told me so.

Blank. My mind is just blank. So are my emotions. I'm sitting in the very back corner of the library tables so no one can or has to, look at me unless they deliberately look my way. I really wanted to check out a book, but it hasn't been returned yet, so I don't know what the fuck to do now. I could search for other books, but I'm not interested in any of them. Aren't you glad you don't fucking feel like this? I mean seriously. I'm just a big blob of suck today. Plus I'm getting jittery due to the two enormous cups of coffee I had this morning. Now I'm feeling hyper & can't sit still in my chair. What do I do with this? Shake my leg? Okay.

I could type faster, but then I start to make mistakes and look like a fucking idiot. So my fingers are moving way slower than my brain right now. My brain is saying, "Oi, type this shit faster beeyotch!" But my fingers are all, "Fuck you brain. I'm not feeling the fast typingness right now." Actually my whole body isn't feel much of anything right now. My vision is kind of blurry too. More blurry than usual I suppose. I would take my contacts out & put my glasses on, but it's way too sunny out and that makes it a bitch to see. You ever tried driving in the sun without sunglasses on? It sucks. Not like I'll be doing much driving anyway. I wish I had a doctor's appointment today so I could drive there and back. Plus I could let them know how fucking shitty I feel today. Can't they give me better drugs to make me feel less like shit? Yeah, no they won't. They won't even give me anything for my fucking chronic back pain. Well nothing that works, anyway. They give me shit that tears up my stomach & I keep forgetting to ask for some pills to help settle my acid reflux. That's what wakes me up in the mornings.

Waking up with acid in my throat makes for a shitty way to start the day. I try to chew a few tums & lie back down but then my mouth feels like an icky dry iron sponge. So instead of swallowing the acid back down, I'm swallowing some irony tasting chalk. Yum!

I want to go home & watch some shows my TiVo recorded for me, but I don't think I'll be able to relax much there. Not with Dad being crabby & two girl cats being in heat meowing like sick cows, constantly. It doesn't bother me at first, the perpetual meowing, but after a few minutes I wish I were deaf. Then it gets worse when dad yells at the cat to cut it out. Like the cat knows what he's saying? They don't know what I'm saying when I tell them to shut up. But they do run from me when I get up & walk towards them. Then they find a safe place where I can't get to them and start their dying cow serenade again.

Bored again. Ugh. I feel like I want to get up and run around the library to shake these jitters, but I'd probably get kicked out for doing that. Plus I'd look pretty silly. People would think, "What the fuck kind of drugs is SHE on?" Some would probably wonder if they could get some of the shit I'm on. Others would think, "Aww poor thing has lost her damn mind." Of course that would be true. I feel like I HAVE lost my damn mind. I wish I could find it though. Where have you gone little sane mind of mine? Please to come back and visit for a while, won't you?

So I sit here, type at the sunny desk and stare out the window to the river. Yes I can type I look at other shit. Not like I can see it very well since my vision is blurry as fuck, but I can see the river better than I can the words on this screen. The farther away, the better, I suppose.

Now I don't know what to say, or type. I hear the clacking of nearby keyboards and beeping of someone scanning books or something. Then there's the constant humming of the heater, which is working very well, I might add. It's like a fucking sauna in here. I'm going to break out in a sweat in a few minutes, I just know it.

Great, my back is hurting more as I sit here in the wooden desk chair. The jitters are working their way up from my legs to my arms now. I'll start bouncing my leg to try and shake them off. I have to type slower or I'll be fucking up everything that I type. See? Well, no you don't because I used backspace to correct my errors. But if I didn't it'd look something like this. Well shit now I'm not making any mistakes. Great. That's how shit always goes, right? You make mistakes when no one is looking & when you want to make a mistake while you've directed attention to it, nothing ever happens. So now I just end up looking like a complete fucking moron who's lost her damn mind.

Oh yeah, Dad got mad at me the other day because I only had like $5 left out of the $50 he gave me the day before Christmas. Well I spent most of it on shit like rust proof spray paint for the underside of my car, for the muffler. Then I put gas in my car and I bought myself an orange pashmina for $10. On Christmas day I bought cigarettes too, so all of that left me with a bit over $5. He's mad because I didn't save it for other things around the house, like cat food. I'm pretty sure the cats have enough food until the first, but according to him I should have bought a small bag of food, just in case. I did buy a bag of litter for them though. I think he forgot about that. He spent $20 of his $50 on an iHome radio for my iPod, because I was going to buy it for myself, but decided against it since I didn't want to spend, or waste, the money. So he got it for me for a Christmas present. He shouldn't have, since he already got me a tv & snuggie for Christmas, I just got them a little earlier.

I'll check my phone to see if anyone's called. Nope. No missed calls. Even the bill collectors & late payment notifiers aren't calling today. Good. I don't want them to bother me. It's not like I have any money for them anyway. Fuck, if I did, they wouldn't need to call me.

I got a letter from the Disability Determination office today regarding the lack of response to my medical records request. A few facilities that had received the request had yet to deliver my medical records, so I called and asked wtf was going on. Turns out they claim to have mailed them out today. They better have. I need to get this shit going. They'll probably set me up to see one of their doctors or something. I hope, if they do schedule me an appointment, I feel like this when I go. Chances are I'll be having a good day & they'll think I'm fine! "Nothing's wrong with her!" That's what they'll think. I wonder if there's a way to induce my having shitty days like this? I don't know how it happens, it just does. If I call my psychiatrist and ask her to increase the dosage of one of my prescriptions, I'll probably feel pretty good. Then again, I don't know how well that shit is working if I still have fucked up days like this. I guess, not so well. Right?

Well at least the jitters seem to be subsiding for now. I really just want to go home, pop some popcorn & watch tv. But I can't do that. Dad will comment on how fat I am and how I don't need to be eating shit like popcorn, or something along those lines. I don't even know why I'd care, since I'm in a fuck all mood right now. My head feels like it's just floating on my shoulders. I feel like I'm not really here, but in some fucked up dream. I wish this were just some shitty dream. At least in a dream there'd be some hot guy I could talk to and I wouldn't have to worry about the consequences of my actions. Then again, when I'm driving a car in my dreams, the brakes seem to never work. So that's never good.

I guess I'll go poke around the self help section for some interesting shit to read. I just returned two books about being bipolar. I only read parts of them. I'm sure this blog is pretty fucking boring as it is. So that'll be all for now. I'll try to write more boring shit later.

12 Days of Christmas

Partridge In A Pear Tree

By Ledya Putros

December 14th

Dearest John:

I went to the door today and the postman delivered a partridge in a pear tree. What a delightful gift. I couldn't have been more surprised.

With dearest love and affection, Agnes

***

December 15th

Dearest John:

Today the postman brought your very sweet gift. Just imagine, two turtle doves.... I'm just delighted at your very thoughtful gift. They are just adorable.

All my love, Agnes

***

December 16th

Dear John:

Oh, aren't you the extravagant one! Now I must protest. I don't deserve such generosity. Three french hens. They are just darling but I must insist.... you're just too kind.

Love Agnes

***

December 17th

Today the postman delivered four calling birds. Now really! They are beautiful, but don't you think enough is enough? You're being too romantic.

Affectionately, Agnes

***

December 18th

Dearest John:

What a surprise! Today the postman delivered five golden rings. One for each finger. You're just impossible, but I love it. Frankly, John, all those squawking birds were beginning to get on my nerves.

All my love, Agnes

***

December 19th

Dear John:

When I opened the door there were actually six geese-a-laying on my front steps. So you're back to the birds again, huh? Those geese are huge. Where will I ever keep them? The neighbors are complaining and I can't sleep through the racket. PLEASE STOP!

Cordially, Agnes

***

December 20th

John:

What's with you and those birds???? Seven swans-a-swimming. What kind of joke is this? There's bird do-do all over the house and they never stop the racket. I'm a nervous wreck and I can't sleep all night. IT'S NOT FUNNY.......So stop with those birds.

Sincerely, Agnes

***

December 21st

OK Buster:

I think I prefer the birds. What am I going to do with eight maids-a-milking? It's not enough with all those birds and eight maids-a-milking, but they had to bring their own cows. There is poop all over the lawn and I can't move into my own house. Just lay off me. .

Ag

***

December 22nd

Hey:

What are you? Some kind of sadist? Now there's nine pipers playing. And do they play!
They never stopped chasing those maids since they got here yesterday morning. The cows are upset and are stepping all over those screeching birds. No wonder they screech. What am I going to do? The neighbors have started a petition to evict me. You'll get yours.

From Ag

***

December 23rd

You Creep!

Now there's ten ladies dancing - I don't know why I call them ladies. Now the cows can't sleep and they've got diarrhea. My living room is a river of poop. The commissioner of buildings has subpoenaed me to give cause why the building shouldn't be condemned. I'm sicking the police on you.

One who means it, Ag

***

December 24th

Listen Idiot:

What's with the eleven lords a-leaping? All 234 of the birds are dead. I hope you're satisfied, you rotten swine.

Your sworn enemy, Miss Agnes McCallister

***

December 25th

(From the law offices Taeker, Spedar, and Baegar)

Dear Sir:

This is to acknowledge your latest gift of twelve fiddlers fiddling, which you have seen fit to inflict on our client, Miss Agnes McCallister. The destruction, of course, was total. All correspondence should come to our attention. If you should attempt to reach Miss McCallister at Happy Dale Sanitarium, the attendants have instructions to shoot you on sight. With this letter, please find attached a warrant for your arrest.

-Merry Christmas