Monthly Archive for February, 2007Page 2 of 5

Fun and Confessions

Published
by
Austin
on February 24, 2007
in Art, Humor and Pets
. 3 Comments

Cartoon of meI blog hop for funny stuff. Today hopping lead straight to YouTube where I found the following interesting and hi-larious vids.

Jim Carey does CSI: Miami David Caruso- hilarious stuff

When Cats Attack- great suspenseful music, thick plot, twists and turns with a surprise ending. Rated A1 in my YouTube opinion.

The Persian Fight Club- Two kitties battle it out.
It looks like they stop to clean each other then start wrestling again. What I like about this video is the song the writers chose and how they made the moves of the cats even with the music. You have to watch the entire video and see how the kitty punches are right in sink with the song Mama’s Gonna Know You out by LL Cool J.

George Bush, Oh No, another President with Alzheimer’s? I suppose this one’s not fun. It’ll make you wonder if they have a point. Is the US under another Regan and will this Regan end up getting the honor of Greatest American Ever because he ruled with dementia? I didn’t realize that qualified a person for a position of honor.

Addition snatched from a blogger: Jennifer Hudson sings And I’m Telling You from the movie Dream Girls. Jennifer Holiday at the 1982 Tony Awards singing her classic song. the crowd showed love through the whole performance. If you’re looking for glamore with Jennifer’s performance at the the Tony’s you wont find it. But if you’re looking for quality performance and historical performances this is the video for you. Jennifer Holiday IS this song. Yes, Miss Hudson does a wonderful job too but this is JH’s song. Here’s. Jennifer Holiday at the White House before a rather dead crowd. Notice Regan sitting in the front row. This is Jennifer Holiday at Carnigie Hall. If you’re not sure this is her because she’s thin check out the facial expressions (sometimes frightening) and hand movements. You’ll realize its her. Check the last part of the performance and you can almost see the Miss Holiday from the ‘82 Tony Awards. I love the reaction of the crowd when she comes out and all through the song. That’s the kind of crowd she deserves. The White House must have bored her to tears and I’m sure she would tell you she wanted to go, it was the worst house she ever played and there’s no way, no way she’d have ever gone had Regan not pressed it. She wanted to be free, but Regan wanted to love her!

Confessions of a mad as a hatter blogger:

  • Sometimes I like to go back and read old journal entries to see IF I’ve made any progress or if I’m still a total mess. Going back over my entries I found a few that made me laugh and some that I thought, dear Lord what was I on when I wrote that one? But nonetheless, reading old entries can be enlightening. Try it.
  • I sometimes forget to turn on the slow cooker making cooking time even slower.
  • When filling my ink cartridge last time I was careful to cover the table, change my clothes and put up the fur babies to prevent spills. I forgot to wear gloves. My fingers were black for days.
  • I even wear a hat to bed, not a baseball cap but a night cap…not the kind with a fuzzy ball on the top like some Santa Clause thing! It’s a little black stocking cap urban kinda thing and no I don’t rap in my free time. And yes I realize I look like Lucy from Peanuts in the above cartoon of me.
  • I play Lupus ball with my dog. With Lupus attacking my joints I can’t get out and play ball with him as much as I’d like so I have to improvise. I stand on the porch and talk him through a game of fetch and never touch the ball. With every word he’s more and more excited. You got it Cappy, get that ball. Oh you’re a killer, a killer I say, a killer. He starts jumping and romping the more I tell him how fierce he is. Lupus ball gives him the exercise he needs and the rest my tired joints need.
  • When I brush Gracie I tell her how pretty she is and that she’s my favorite cat in the world and no one comes before her. When I brush Bella I tell her how pretty she is and that she’s my favorite cat in the world and no one comes before her. When I brush Captain I strongly consider paying a groomer.
  • My dog likes to eat the lotion right off my legs so I give him a taste on my finger so he’ll go away and leave me to supple up my legs in privacy. He prefers Vaseline Intensive Care to Skin So Soft by Avon.

Yours truly,
Austin

Decoder Rings And Secret Messages

Published
by
Austin
on February 24, 2007
in Borderline Personality Disorder and Mental Health
. 0 Comments

Sat-02-24-07/2:58AM EST

(You’ll have to highlight the areas where the font is white in order to see the other words)

Cracker Jacks, there’s a prize in every box and if you’re lucky it’ll be a decoder ring for secret messages only people your kind are privy to. Everything might seem in order to others but you have this tool to decipher secret messages, messages only discernable by those who know what they’re looking for. You use your special ring and find yourself among the elite few who possess …. worthless knowledge, stuff you could have lived without but the candy popcorn box convinced you just the opposite.

I think the most intense entries on my blog are written with a cryptic message only someone with the correct code language could decipher. Between each line is a question; has anyone ever felt this way? Am I crazy? Somebody help me please. I can’t keep going at this rate. Does this make sense to you? Am I really out of my mind? Sometimes the punch line to my own jokes is me. Sometimes my laugh is real and other times it’s a mask. I’ve lost my ability to determine which is which. I want to stop laughing. I’m scared to death most days. I’m on the verge of tears more than ever. What are people going to think when Austin stops being strong? What are people going to think when Austin stops laughing?

Sometimes I word things in a way that makes it nearly impossible to offend and other times I couldn’t give a flying fuck if someone is offended. I don’t like walking on egg shells. I hope this pisses people off and makes them go away.

I worry that people will find out just how sick I am and they’ll have no need at all for my cynicism, my humor bordering passive aggression or my artwork that often bores me. They’re going to find out about you and when they do your stupid Sundrip Journals will be a desert waste land. Sometimes I want to push people away so they can go ahead and leave. I’ll have control over that part then. It’s better to leave than be left. Most times I’m afraid to sign my Pride name because I feel stupid doing it. I hesitate to write entries that are depressing for fear people will think I’m wallowing in self pity, that I’m spending too much time thinking about the past, that I refuse to move on and that I’m keeping others from moving on by writing entries about my life. Sometimes I wish my head would shut up and stop assaulting me. Other times I invite the burden. The pain is buried so deep it feels like without some sort of jump start I’ll never get to the bottom of things and I’ll be stuck like this forever, not knowing fully why I’m angry and not being able to do a goddamn thing about it. I’m afraid to feel nothing at all again. I’m afraid to ever go back to numb. I’m afraid. I’m ready to stop and that scares me. So I tell myself to give it a few days and I’ll feel better. They’re going to think you’re a hypocrite. You always tell people that self care is important but you neglect your needs all the time. My advice to others is better than the advice I give myself. I do, give it time but I find myself right back here and tired.

I want the prize at the bottom of the popcorn box so I keep moving even when my I don’t feel like I can anymore.

If I left the comment section open to this it would almost seem like I asking for ???? hell I don’t know. To leave it open and get nothing would be a slap in the face. You can see my dilemma here…well, you can if you have a decoder ring.

Austin for Morton’s Pride

Anger and Ending Relationships 1

Published
by
Austin
on February 24, 2007
in Mental Health, Relationships, Segments and Therapy Assignments
. 0 Comments

I’m angry with the way this relationship turned out because…..

I’m angry because I feel like I failed her and myself. I’m angry because my issues kept me in that relationship then allowed the friends with benefits situation to go on for so long.

I’m angry because-
Her eating disorder and self loathing spilled into my own issues. She was conscious of what I ate, what my cats ate, what the dog ate and so on, everything was weight related and I started feeling badly about being a fat chick. I started thinking, how could anyone respect “this”? My comfort level with who I am became less and less as I heard daily about when she was thin, when her hair was longer, when her kids were thin, when her kid’s hair was longer. My self image began to deteriorate and that really pisses me off. I let that happen and that really pisses me off. She harped on the past and how long her hair use to be and how thin she use to be. I’m fat with short hair, what am I suppose to think when she talks about these things with such disgust? She detested this/me, I could hear it in her voice but she kept saying she was talking only about herself. I still don’t believe that.

I am angry because I gave up my time and my space for someone who only wanted to use me for a place to sleep, someone to cook her meals and do her laundry. I’m angry that wanting to be needed in someone’s life was stronger than my self respect. I’m angry that I let her use me just so I wouldn’t be alone. I’m angry that she’s a user. The relationship was complicated at best.

I’m angry that she slept in my bed, ate my food, spent more time here than home yet I still did nothing good enough for her. I’m angry that my every flaw stuck out ahead of anything I did right. It makes me angry to know my will is weak enough to bend to the will of some chick for the sake of belonging and for approval, which I never got.

I’m angry that I gave pep talks and played the rescue role when I really just wanted to tell her to dry her eyes and go home until she could get herself together and talk to me without manipulation. I’m angry that the rescuer in me couldn’t stand down, couldn’t let her just fall apart and cry herself into dehydration. I’m angry I kick into the comedian role instead of just flat out telling her, you’re pissing me off you need to leave. I wanted to fix things, her, me, everything and I couldn’t do that.

It pisses me off when we have the same conversation a hundred times. When something gets in her head it’s there for good, there’s no prying it out. It doesn’t have to be true. Once it’s there it’s there and she presses those beliefs on others even when they don’t want any part of it. The whole religion thing got to me with saving her father’s “soul” before he died. It angers me that she would cry and be so totally broken down over the death of ½ brother’s father whom she met only twice in 52 years for a grand total of 8 hours. I don’t understand why she was so broken up and why her world stopped for someone she met twice in her life and with whom she shares no blood.

Her level of cruelty makes me angry. It makes me angry that the stupid bitch would say some of the stuff she said. When she knows full well that my mother was my main abuser there should never be any room for the phrase “Mommy that feels good.” When I brush my cats or the dog she moaned followed by that phrase is not necessary. During sex that phrase is not necessary. It’s unusually cruel. When it’s met with the fierceness it deserves I got nothing but tears. How on earth could I ever think she wanted to hurt me? She’s so sorry, the last person in the world she’d want to hurt is me. Boo hoo fucking hoo. She goes into hysterics because Lord knows she’d never want to hurt me and she’s highly offended that I’d think she wanted to hurt me.

My aim is good but my balance is not which means I can toss a good argument back and forth but I don’t walk on eggshells very well. It made me so angry to watch every word I said to make sure she didn’t fall over and weep herself sick.

It makes me angry that I felt I needed to be the strong one. Even when I didn’t have the strength to lend, it seemed I came to the rescue, talked to her and listened, offered one of my famous pep talks instead of slapping her and telling her to wake up she’s 51 she’ll never see 110 again! I sometimes felt like I was enabling her. It was hard to know when to let her go and when to address the situation. It makes me angry when I’m stuck doing all the talking then come back and have to hear about how all I did was talk. I asked her how she thought we were doing. She said she was fine, she was happy. I knew that wasn’t true. She couldn’t be happy with US. We have too many issues. We couldn’t lay beside her at night. We couldn’t kiss her at night before bed. Half the time we couldn’t hug her without cringing.

I’m pissed because somehow I think this was all my fault. I’m pissed because I kept my mouth shut when I should have spoken. I kept the peace when I should have told her how I really feel regardless of her manipulative tears. I wish I had the dignity I had back in August when I could look her in the face and say what I needed to say using all the crap I learned in therapy, using I messages and dealing with things head on.

I’m pissed because I just didn’t want to accept that somehow this is all my fault. I didn’t want her to walk away and leave me thinking that I fucked up yet another relationship. Relationship being friends or partners, it doesn’t matter. I am queen of fucking ‘em up. She is just another person I excluded from my life. Not everyone can be wrong about me.

***comments are closed on therapy assignments***

Therapy Assignment: Anger and Ending Relationships
Friday, February 23, 2007-5PM EST

See also Anger and ending relationships Part 1 of 2
and Anger and ending relationships Part 2 of 2

PTSD and Relationships off blog link to Psych Central

Anger and Ending Relationships 2

Published
by
Austin
on February 24, 2007
in Borderline Personality Disorder, Mental Health, PTSD, Relationships, Segments and Therapy Assignments
. 0 Comments

I’m angry with the way this relationship turned out because…..

from PostSecret.comI’m angry because staying with her hurt me. I wanted to hurt me.

We loathed her as much as we loath ourselves.

It makes me angry that sometimes sex was for the sole purpose of pushing myself over the line. Sometimes I used it to hurt me, to make me feel bad, to trigger anger issues and self loathing. I don’t know if she knew that or not. According to her wall calendar she couldn’t really tell just how disgusted I was with her. Sometimes I was driven by self destruction. Sex was a weapon against me, not her. I just want to make that clear. Hell, I’m not into hurting people (S&M isn’t up my alley) and I’m not into sex totally for myself (selfishness in bed is masturbation, why involve someone else if you’re just going to be there only for you.) I guess my point is, when it came to our sex life it was consensual but often there was a self destructive undertone. I think she would absolutely die if she knew that. I wanted to hate myself. I wanted to make God hate me. I wanted to feel disgusting a few hours later. I challenged myself to stay present the entire time so I could have every memory to break me later on. I used sex instead of a razor blade. It pisses me off that I used her that way. What does that make me? I also wonder if I’ll be more likely to pick up a blade now that the other tool for self injury is gone. I guess I want to drive home the point that our relations were consensual. Dr. B shocked the crap out of me one time when he asked me that. Hell yeah it was consensual. My goodness! The goal was to hurt me not her, to humiliate me not her all without her realizing my goal. Although the sex was always consensual and usually initiated by me there was never any physical violence and I tried my best to please her, but there was always an undertone of self destruction. Now that I think about it, if someone said all this to me I might inquire into rape behaviors. It still bothers me though because I don’t think I made it clear enough to him that the point was to hurt me not her and to keep that warped crap under wraps.

It pisses me off to think of how sick all this makes me.

That whole relationship was fucked up. Everything I did was wrong, and closer to the end everything she did I thought was wrong. She didn’t like that I only clean my litter box once a day. She didn’t like the kind of litter I use. Even though she admitted she couldn’t smell the boxes she still thought it would be better to get clumping litter instead of using pine chips. There wasn’t enough water in the cat bowls, the food I buy isn’t good enough. I should be brushing them more often than every Wednesday and for the love of Pete I might want to keep Captain from playing with their toys. She didn’t like my dog and I’m most offended by that. Who doesn’t like Captain Crunch? Bella is bad and Gracie is good. I didn’t like the distinctions she made between them because they are exactly like the distinctions made between my sister and myself. In all truthfulness, I see me in Bella (the bad one, the bold one) and I see much of my sisters need to please in Gracie (the good one, the quiet one). I don’t need old shit popping up when I look at my fur babies. I tried to separate then from now while looking at them but she made that kind of hard when she’d toss in “Mommy that feels good” as I neglectfully brushed them just once a week.

***comments are closed on therapy assignments***

Therapy Assignment: Anger and Ending Relationships
Sex as a weapon for emotional suicide
Saturday, February 24, 2007-12:59AM EST

See also Anger and ending relationships Part 1 of 2
and Anger and ending relationships Part 2 of 2

PC Support Gibberish

Published
by
Austin
on February 22, 2007
in Soapbox
. 3 Comments

I’m big time irritated…argh! OMG irritated beyond irritated. I have no use of my CDR or CD-RW. None, nada, zip, zilch. I’ve looked on the net to see what to do but I have no effing idea what they’re talking about. they throw in 100 different possibilities then ask, was this

cdrom.JPG

helpful then leave no option where you can say hell no I prefer my help in effing English not code gibberish. I don’t know what the effe you’re talking about. You haven’t helped with anything but raising my effing blood pressure with now thanks to you is near stroke level. You effing nonsupporting bastards. But no, that “have we helped you” option doesn’t show up. Okay, I will not pull out what’s left of my hair today. OMG! Who came up with system restore and system recovery, system volume and all that crap? Why does this have to be written in gibberish? MY GOD!!! It’s like the instructions are written so that you fall on the floor crying then get up and call a PC guy to come help while you’re on the phone with your effing therapist cause you can’t handle that your effing CDR what the effing ever doesn’t work. LORD! I just want to toss in a CD. With no CD use I …….whatever! What the effe ever! I could do a whole effing system restore but you know what? If I don’t get use of my drives back I’m in big trouble even after that restore, recover, resuscitate crap. I just want to use my dang on drives. I tried the Help thing but either the screen won’t open or it opens then shuts itself down after a few seconds so using the troubleshoot option doesn’t help either cause I can’t get it to open or when it does it wont stay open. I just want to use the effing drives so if anyone has any instructions in ENGLISH not code gibberish then please leave a comment on my blog or if you know me then email me. I’ll be at the coffee maker smoking square after square.

Note to self- get a effing Mac. And stop cursing so damn much. Everybody knows what effing means.
Note to self- When real stuff bothers you little shit like the PC seems insurmountable. This is where you walk away and stop trying to fix shit because you’re going to do something desperate and jack up the whole system.

Secret Houses Dream

Published
by
Austin
on February 22, 2007
in Dissociative Identity Disorder and Dreams
. 1 Comment

Three story house…actually three full houses on top of one another in the appearance of one home. The top two houses weren’t visible to others, they were a secret. The lady on the third level was hiding from someone who was trying to kill her, a man. I was on the very top level, the third, and watched him try and kill her by opening automatic gun fire while she slept in her bed with no guards to warn her of his presence. She survived and got herself a body guard, a woman who owned a teenager. Now, that’s a typo kinda…it’s just how it came out of my mouth/mind. This woman had a teenage daughter but for some reason while typing it out it came out as she owned a teenage daughter. I figured the slips are nearly as relevant as the actual events in the dream so I type that part out too. So anyway, I was extra careful to not let anyone in my part of the house. I barricaded my front door with the dining room table and some other things but left the table still functional.

There was a knock at my door. I tried to look out of the window to see who was there but I couldn’t see anyone. They had two bags of groceries with them but I couldn’t see them. I opened the peep hole which happened to be the size of a dinner plate. I could see my sisters face, she was smiling that silly smile of hers and said to let her in, it was cold out there. It really was. All the run off from the snow created flooding and her feet were wet. I opened the door and she squeezed past a 6 inch gap I’d left so people couldn’t enter my home UNLESS they knew how to pass such a small opening. She came in and we chatted as if we’d been friends all our lives instead of put at odds by the mother.

Later in the dream I noticed a man outside dragging a net against the current. There were certain fisher’s nets used by local store owners, they were all metal with teeth that scooped up the kind of fish they were licensed to catch. It scooped up only one type of fish and left the others behind. The water level was rising and rushing past my house with increasing speeds. I saw a black and white striped fish and an oversize gold fish floating at the top of the water. An alligator waited by a small land mass for a different type of fishing.

I’d been standing at the window looking down at the water for quite some time when I spotted a horse on its side, stuck in the mud, its head barely above water. I called my sister over to the window. She said it was way too pretty to be a boy. At that time the horse rose high enough out of the mud for us to see it was a pregnant mare. Our hearts dropped. I ran to the phone to call someone but I couldn’t remember any emergency phone numbers. I couldn’t remember 911 and the numbers I jotted down for animal rescue made no sense to me. When I finally called a number correctly I got an automated line, press 1 if it’s a dog, press 2 if it’s a cat, press 3 if it’s this, blah, blah, blah then finally the message telling me they’re out of the office. While on the phone with the automated helpers the horse floated out of site so I was unable to see her anymore. It seemed like forever on the phone; surely she must have drowned or frozen. I wasn’t sure and I wanted to go check, to go pull her out of the water myself but I knew I didn’t have the strength, and although I let people in the house I didn’t myself know how to get out. I’d come in a long time ago but I no longer knew how to get out. A few minutes later emergency crews came rushing by my window to rescue the horse. I gave them the thumbs up as they pulled her out and drove her to safety. I woke up after that.

I found it interesting that at first no one knew two houses existed on top of one house, which housed a family I knew nothing about. As the dream progressed the house became more visible and more accessible to others but I was still trapped inside it. I couldn’t come and go at will, even when the situation warranted it or when I wanted to leave. I find that to be very telling. I know why I dreamed about being trapped in my own home. I understand the symbolism behind a multi level house with two of its levels secret as well as the super small opening that allowed others to come and go. Basically, I know why I had this dream. Yesterday’s therapy session was a doozy. The therapy assignment should be fun, fun like standing in the freezing rain with no coat then walking a electric high wire with no buffer kinda fun.

Three Houses In One-Secret Houses Dream
Thursday, February 22, 2007-1:21PM EST
Joan of Arc for Morton’s Pride

What’s for dinner?

Published
by
Austin
on February 20, 2007
in General Chatter and Soapbox
. 4 Comments

Tues-02-20-07/4:29PM EST
Self one: So what’s for dinner?
Self two: I don’t know I haven’t checked the FDA recall list yet.

Self one: Are we going to the grocery store today? Do you have your list?
Self two: I do but you know it changes according to what’s declared contaminated so grab the FDA recall list.

Self one is putting on cold cream.
Self two yells: Hold on! Has that cream been recalled? She checks the list. Okay, you’re safe. It hasn’t made the list……yet!

General letter from companies with contaminated products:
Dear Vegetarian Consumers,
Just because we had contaminated spinach, lettuce and now cantaloupe doesn’t mean you can’t trust us to give you fresh products. Our products will have the fresh bacteria of salmonella, guaranteed! To all our living consumers, we thank you for continuing to put your life in our hands,
sincerely,
The growers of products that’ll kill ya.
PS. Shoulda just stuck with cloned beef.

Dear lovers of Peter Pan,
I’m sorry to say the boy in tights has flown off shelves because it contains salmonella with the possibility of tainting your children who have somehow managed to remain untainted from TV, violent video games and internet predators. We regret to inform you that all the safety measures you took have worked with everyone but us. Sorry!
sincerely,
The makers of the fairy product
PS. Reece’s Peanut Butter ice cream topping has been recalled too because salmonella got to it too. Snack time has changed forever. Thanks

The President of the United States- Hey secret service guy taste this peanut butter cookie, see if you drop dead.
Secret Service Guy- No Sir Mr. President, I’ll take a bullet for you but not salmonella poisoning.

Now to address the issue of terrorism and food contamination. Nah, I don’t believe it. The FDA has been recalling food for years. We are more aware of it now, more pissed than ever that simple foods come with a question mark. Can I eat this and be healthy? Does eating 5 to 9 fruits and veggies put me at greater risk than if I just stick to chips and candy? Nope, it doesn’t because even candy has been recalled as well as cough drops and medical supplies due to packaging errors. Foods have been recalled because the manufacturer failed to mention egg and milk content, oils used for frying (pies, chips, etc) are recalled for being contaminated with mold and so on. The truth is, neglect is what makes our products get recalled. I seriously doubt that terrorists would be content with the slow process of poisoning Peter Pan and veggies. They seem to prefer to fly planes into buildings and blow stuff up. So no, I do not personally believe that terrorists have attacked Peter Pan or the Dole company (makers of the freshest salmonella anywhere). But then, who am I? I’m not a political expert. I hope you didn’t come to my journal for expert info on the government. You’ll be disappointed because all you’ll find here are cheap shots at companies I use to trust so don’t go quoting me. I’m not a happy consumer but I’m fully aware Dole is operating on borrowed time. They won’t recover from such major problems in a short period of time. It may take a year or two but Dole is in big trouble with the latest out break. Now that you can quote me on.

I’ll be growing my own veggies real soon. Strawberry vines, blueberry bushes, raspberry thingies (?) and other fruits can be purchased and planted. For those of us with limited income these items can be purchased on food stamps. You can also purchase vegetable plants such as carrots, melons, spinach, lettuces, greens and herb plants on food stamps. I’ll do that and pray global warming didn’t cut winter too short to properly freeze the ground. I don’t want problems in my own backyard.

So what IS for dinner? Greek salad, grilled chicken, side of pasta. Later coffee and a private concert with Anita Baker- compliments of Napster.

Self Management Amongst Mockery

Published
by
Austin
on February 20, 2007
in Mental Health, Relationships and Soapbox
. 4 Comments

Barney came home early. I wish he hadn’t. It seems Barney thinks its appropriate to tell this black woman that black people will be most affected by the recall of chicken. I know, I know, forget him, don’t let it get to you Austin, he’s stupid, not worth your time. Well, the truth is, stuff like that hurts, especially when you’re not expecting it. I tried to cool off but I kept getting madder and madder. I wanted to cut just to ease the tension. I walked out of the house today determined not to hurt myself just because someone else hurt me. I walked a bit then shot the breeze with a friend at the Quickie Mart for about twenty minutes and came home. I left the TV on when I went for my short walk and when I came back the Craig Ferguson show was on. He usually tears stars to pieces but today we saw the man and recovering alcoholic behind the comedian. I like him! He traded in jokes for a nice speech on how he got sober, about how alcohol saved his life as well as almost took it. I believe he said what really needs to be said about all the bashing going around. People forget that Brittany Spears is a human being with a problem, that Lindsey Lohan is a young woman, a baby, on a path of destruction dragging other young girls who want to be her with her. Craig talked about this being his 15th year anniversary of being sober. He said 15 years ago he had many week ends like the one Brittany had. I like that he brought the human aspect back into this whole deal. He even talked about how horrible it is that people are still attacking Anna Nicole Smith. She’s dead for crying out loud let her go. My goodness!

If I can get a hold of the YouTube.com version of Craig’s pleadings to alcoholics I’ll post it on this journal. I think it’s something everyone needs to hear, addict or not. He pointed out that whatever a person’s illness is they have to deal with it. So in my opinion he spoke not just for alcoholics but for people with bipolar disorder, for people with major depression, eating disorders or a physical ailment. He said everyone knows an alcoholic. He said you’ve either worked for one, worked with one, have a brother, an uncle, a son or daughter with an alcohol problem or you’re married to one. I say, everyone knows someone with a mental illness or a physical problem that they have to keep in check every single day of their life. We all know someone with a mental problem be it schizophrenia, schizo-effective disorder, bi polar disorder, OCD, borderline personality disorder and other mental health issues. Those of us living with these issues know for certain it is hurtful to hear jokes and see “us” looked at as if we are freaks or something to be laughed at.

People forget that we are all just people with breakable hearts; capable of having too much emotional pull, that we are as strong and as weak emotionally as the next person…..they forget that emotions are not replaced by alcoholism a mental illness. We feel every single solitary sting just as those who do not live with these issues. In the same manner fat does not replace human feelings so when you laugh you hurt others. Is your one moment of teasing worth the possibility that this person will go home feeling they just can’t do it anymore, they just can’t live with their personal struggle anymore and be the target of jokes and badmouthing. Is personal humiliation not enough, must you add your laughter to it? How the hell do you think Brittany felt when she found out she’d shaven her head? I’m sure it felt much like how I felt when dissociating and shaving mine. It’s humiliating! Do you really need to laugh about it on the net or the news?

So this is my message to gossips-

All of you so called comedians such as David Letterman and Jay Leno, you rag mags, rag shows and rag blogs who post crap about human beings, you have taken a liberty that does not belong to you. You’ve crossed lines you should not cross and take other people’s lives and toss them around for profit. When you sell mags and make jokes about dead mother’s and rake in the money to buy your homes, cars and other objects you do so with blood money. You people make me sick.

My roommate is an asshole. Why he decided to say what he said today I have no clue. And yes it did hurt my feelings and it still makes me want to cry. Even if I do it will not wash away the fact that I dealt with my issue of self injury very well. I didn’t cut. I walked it off. I took the dog with me because it was friggin midnight but I walked it off. Instead of hurting myself I got a bit of exercise and fresh air. It’s the best way I can counter his stupidity and keep my issues under control. Perhaps the best way to counter their laughter and gain some sort of control is to get help for whatever ails you. In doing so you might one day stand in front of people and tell them just how you managed to pull yourself together despite laughter and ridicule. Bravo Craig Ferguson. I appreciate your words this evening.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7bbaRyDLMvA]

Listen to Craig’s monologue.

I wish you all well,

Me

Self Management Amongst Mockery
Tuesday, February 20, 2007-12:57 midnight EST

WTF? You Crazy B*tch

Published
by
Austin
on February 20, 2007
in General Chatter, Humor and Relationships
. 2 Comments

Tuesday February 20th, 2007 3:09AM EST

This morning when I was cleaning I heard what I thought was Blossom saying my name. I thought she was in the house so I walked out in the living room (attitude in full force) and looked around. Nothing. I went back in the bedroom to finish up and I heard it again, just as clearly as before. So I walked right back out to the living room, nothing. I was like, OMG the stress is getting to me. Now I’m hearing voices. I went back in the room and it happened again, that’s when I realized it was the wooden fence blowing in the wind and rubbing against the house. The fence is right against the wall beside my bed. For some reason it sounded like my first name when being blown in the wind. You know how metal creeks an erie creek, sometimes with a higher pitch just before the final bend then break? That’s the sound it was making. I can’t explain it but it. I was bending over to the floor when I heard it that third time. When I realized what it was I fell over on the bed laughing. I thought I’d really hit the major stress button. I’m hearing voices now. The weatherman said it would be windy but goodness, does it have to bend the fence and make it rub against the house so it sounds like my friggin name? If it’s not one thing it’s another. At least this one thing or another I can laugh about.

Brake ups are complicated. I’ve been to a few of our regular hang outs and of course they ask, where’s Blossom? I hold back from saying, “that crazy bitch and I broke up.” I put it nicely. “Oh, we broke up.” They’re shocked. I don’t offer more info even when they ask for it. If they only knew I thought the wind was her calling my name they’d think I was the crazy one. She may have screwed me over big time but I’ll refrain from writing it on the calendar.

I’m still having some major issues with this but it seems I’m doing bitter better. I intend to deal with it with humor. I think the wind intends to play along.

Blitz Cleaning

Published
by
Austin
on February 19, 2007
in General Chatter and Pets
. 3 Comments

Blitz Cleaning
Monday, February 19, 2007

Friday I steam cleaned the living room and all the throw rugs as well as the love seat. Sunday six loads of laundry were folded and put away, some boxed up and some hung. I called it a success. I then washed all the parts of my Mr. Bissell in prep for today’s fine tuning to the carpets. A wet rag will rake across the computer desk (whose top I can actually see now). It’ll go across my dresser and night stand (which I accurately described to Velvet Sacks as being the colour of dust). Whatever colour they were before is now in the past. They’re the colour of dust now. We must not hang on to the past, let the original colour go cause dust has moved in…it’s eviction notice is today because I have a nice rag to polish away this intruder. Next is the hutch and then the China cabinet, also victims of the dust monster. Ya know, once a dust bunny gets so big it’s no longer a bunny it’s a monster. But that monster must be tamed. I want my house back and with Blossom gone I can go through it and clean until I drop. I won’t be cleaning the fur lined curtains though; they’ll stand as a reminder that life doesn’t have to be perfect. Okay, that’s not true; it’s just that there is too much involved in taking them down, removing the fur lining, washing them then putting them back up. That’s too much. I’d rather focus on the dust.

Gracie and Bella 7 months ago or so

In my cleaning frenzy I washed Captain then clipped the hair between his toes and clipped his nails. I then wiped Gracie clean and trapped Bella to do the same. They got their nails clipped too. Both of them are somewhat pissed right now. I had to give them canned food to appease them but it doesn’t mean I won’t be calling them your highness for the next few days. This is my favorite picture of the two of them together. I wouldn’t call this obsessive cleaning because I’ve spread it out over several days. If I were truly in a cleaning frenzy I’d have gotten all this done in one day. I’m quite happy to say I listened to my body. When my bones creaked I stopped cleaning. I’m cleaning without OCD impulses which means I don’t have to file this under mental health just pets and general chatter.

Like any good deed accomplished I have to have a reward for myself. Lime and pepper baked fish, baked potato, snap beans and garlic bread. That’s right! One tub filled with hot water and bubbles followed by a few chapters of the book “Fall On Your Knees” by Ann-Marie Macdonald. According to The O (Oprah) this book is about: Moving from Cape Breton Island to the bleak landscape of World War I and the emerging jazz scene in New York City, this epic tale tells the story of four unforgettable sisters. This is a story of inescapable family bonds, of terrible secrets, of miracles, murder, passion and forbidden love. Now who wouldn’t want to read that? I love The O’s book club. She’s so cool. No matter whatcha say about her O is still cool in my book. We must not forget that during my bubble bath John Mayer will give me a private concert courtesy of Napster. He’ll bring along with him Damien Rice, James Blunt and new comer Brett Dennen. It shall be an evening to remember.

Later taters,
Austin