HONEY, I'M HOME!

Going home and visiting family was wonderful, but God, it's good to finally be back amongst the familiar. ...not that home's not familiar, but all my stuff is here, and that's the difference.

And Emma's here, too. I have to get out to see her first thing tomorrow...when the sun finally goes down, lol. Because it's hot as shit here. God. Horrible weather.

Anyway, am at work, woo, and will be lurking around updating journals and stuff. YAY TO BE HOME AND I CAN SLEEP IN MAH OWN BED TANITE!!

I don't play these sorts of fucking games, thanks. I think I need to just cut whatever ties still exist and be done with it. I was perfectly fine until I checked. Why did I bother?

You knew it, Jayden. You fucking knew it. But you had to go get yourself upset again, didn't you? Because life's no fun unless it's filled with angst and drama, right? We'd have thought you'd learned your lessons, madam.

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Apparently I'm more of a masochist than I thought. I trust too easily, I know that. What I'm never prepared for is having that ripped out and thrown back in my face. One would think I'd learn, right?

The more I think about it, the more I realize Natalie's right. Just play and let the fucking children do what they want. Don't get involved. It only ends in misery.

Perhaps one day I'll learn.

I'm a genius. I go off and leave my phone at the house. Grah, no music for me. Pisses me off, that. But I'll have MSN after five or so, so no worries. It still peeves me, though.

Had a potluck after-lunch at work today. Was nice, folks bringing food. Don't have to go out for supper, lolz. I made fruit salad last night and kept it in the fridge. OMGSOOOONOMS.

Allergies are being stupid again. Or starting to, rather. Been sniffling some. Not cool. I do not want to start off the summer with a damned cold.

SO CANNOT WAIT TO GO HOME. Hurry, June 14th.

I really wish I could go back and undo the last three months.

Why can't I have a time machine?

God, I'm depressed.

I was in Wal Mart today and walked past the Father's Day card display. And nearly broke down right there in the floor. I was driving across the Palmetto bridge back into Bradenton and was listening to Diamond Rio's "You're Gone" and staring at the stormy sky and cried.

My father's gone.

I know that. I know he's not here anymore. And I know there's nothing I can do to help my mother and brother deal with that fact. Quite frankly, I'm tired of trying. Is that wrong of me? Am I a bad person for feeling that way? I'm not entirely sure. But I do know that there is absolutely nothing I can do to make them feel better about it. When dealing with this sort of grief and pain, each and every person has to haul themselves out of that rut; that's just the way it is.

I'm not going to say I've done everything I can; I haven't drug my mother to counseling (although she did go by herself), I can't bash my brother over the head because he's a moron and doesn't want to grow the fuck up, I can't hug either of them and comfort them when they're sad. Because I'm not there. I'm in Florida. Am I sorry about it? Not really, no. That's just the way things are. And I'm tired of feeling guilty about it. Because I know that even if I was there, it wouldn't make much difference, except me getting frustrated and even angrier about certain things.

...I guess that does make me an evil, heartless bitch. Tough.

To make matters worse, my creativity's been squashed. Again. It's not a big deal - although it worries me every time it happens, although I know it'll eventually come back - but I didn't want it to go so soon. Maybe if I'd have not let myself get so sucked into that world again, it would have left quietly and gently, not yanking my very heart out like it did when it packed up, picked up and hauled off to Bermuda.

And yes, I blame people. But it's a moot point anyway, because number one: if you're really that pathetic to have to get your kicks and justify your life by being a drama whore on the damned internet...I think you need a job or some other constructive way to expend your energy. Christ, get a life, please. Number two: I'm too old to give a good goat-shit about kids and their wank. I'll be thirty in less than a month. Go wank some pathetic seventeen year old who still cares what other people think about them. And enjoy it. (But you might want to see number one again, especially that remark about a job, because you obviously have too much time on your hands.)

Granted, I'm not as creative as Natalie, but I do have friends who have access to some rather impressive high-powered military explosives and weaponry and, just by a strange twist of chance, adore me and owe me a few favors. Don't piss me off, sports fans. You might want to check underneath your car and make sure there's nothing blinking, or be very careful when you open your fridge, turn on your computer or when you sit to shit. These guys rule.

I like to rp. The freaking world knows that. But it's going to be done on my terms, because my stores are akin to my children. I spent a lot of time on them and take a boatload of pride in the results of my time and efforts. Don't like it? Think it's crazy? Fuck off and get ass-raped elsewhere. I'm too mean and uncaring to give a damn about your opinions.

So yeah, this year's been pretty shitty for me, but know what? I'm a tough cookie and even thought I might crumble a little bit, I'll never break. I won't stay down and I won't drown, not even if some gnat's cunt pours an entire gallon of milk. Trust me. I've survived a lot and plan on surviving a lot more, everyone else be damned.

Comment or not, I don't rightly care. Flame and I hope to Almighty God your ass is well lubricated, for a textual light pole will be shoved up some ass cheeks and you'll choke on the tar coating. I'm bloody tired of trying to please everyone, to be everyone's shoulder and confidant, the one to make it better, okay, all right again. Stand on your own goddamned two feet, mine hurt.

I need inspiration, damnit.

I feel like general crap. Not that it's anything unusual in its own right, but still. It's rainy and wet, which is wonderful; Christ knows we need the rain, but normally that doesn't get me down.

I dunno. It's not just the weather. I should be ecstatic; my housemates are gone all freaking week and I have the house to myself. Still, there's mother, my brother and the rest of my assholish family to worry about. I know Mom and Nathan will be okay, but I can't help but worry. It's only been five months since Dad passed away; I know that seems like a relatively long time, but when you're not able to see your father for the rest of this eternity, it's not, really. And it's been rough on my family.

But there's not much I can do about it, down here in Florida. I can't make them get help, I can't make them go to counseling. My mother needs to, God does she. And my brother needs to get his head out of his ass and deal with things. ...but that's just me being a bitch and an impromptu therapist. Nevermind that my mind is terribly coldly logical, no matter my personal feelings on matters.

God. I want to go home and go back to bed. Just sleep away the rest of the week and veg out. But I have to work, and there are chores to be done and my horse to visit. Which I truly don't mind; once I do get out there, my troubles and cares just stay on the other side of the fence. I'm so thankful I have Emma; I'd probably be a nervous wreck otherwise. Well, possibly more of one, that is. But she's good for me. I can wail, cry and she just nuzzles my pockets for treats. It's such a comfort.

...anyway. I'm depressive today. It sucks. I have no rp inspiration; my Sephy-muse is still sulking in his closet. I know better than to rush him out; he always gets crankier if I try so I'll just wait for him to come out and lay on me like he always does. Dante can just get over it. Seph's been through a lot these past few weeks; the man needs a break.

All right, tl;dr and all that shit. Not like anyone ever does anyway. Just a place for me to spill my guts and pass the time. Back to work, yay.

All right, so it's been a while. Been busy over at TV doing forum rp. I know it's not the best medium, but it's all I got right now.

I have Sephiroth/Dante/Angel/Cael'Anon trapped in that House. God, it's hilarious. WE NEED SOME RESIDENT EVIL PEEPLES; WE HAVE NONE. DANTE WOULD SKWEE TO HAVE A CHRIS REDFIELD TO BOOZE WTIH, YO!

Anyway, enough advertising. But it's pan-fandom, and fun as hell. SOOO addictive.

Yeah.

So, life's clipping along. Mother's having her ups and downs; I have tried to get her into counseling, but she's being stubborn as usual. My insane brother is being a dick, no change there.

Down here we're finally moved into our new house. I've gotten my clothes unpacked, that's about it. And my computer and the x-box, of course. :D But other than, that's about it.

Emma's doing really well. There's pollen everywhere so I've been kinda sinuesy. Which sucks.

Okay, updates done, go back to your lives, citizens.

I fucking hate the internet.

THIS was awesome. God, I still marvel at our coolness.

Please pass this to every person you know, every MySpace account, every Face Book account you happen to possess!!

I have just discovered that my cousin Roger Dunn from North Carolina is a homosexual pedophilic predator. Which means he has sex with underaged boys. This man is a standing figure in his community, a deacon in his church and also has a wife, son and two small grandchildren who were previously unaware of his activities.

He has betrayed his family's trust and confidence by these unforgivable actions and has rendered at least two young men horrifically scarred by his disgusting practices.

And, because of this monster's careful planning, he will never be tried in a court of his peers for his crimes. Instead, he will remain free and continue to practice these vile acts on other unsuspecting teenagers whose trust and confidence he has gained.

Well.

The trip home was good. I was impressed. There were some issues, of course, but the less said of those, the better. My family's still intact, thank God. And on the road to recovery, I desperately hope. Not saying that it won't be filled with meteor sized pot-holes, but still.

Natalie went home today. I was so glad she came to visit. Ended up staying a full two weeks too, yayz! But I know she's ready to go home; I understand completely, believe me. Still, it was good to have here. We went to Sarasota Jungle Gardens, Mote Aquarium and went to the power plant in Ruskin to see the wintering manatees. It was great fun. And of course we spent time with my dear Emmy. She had a great time, for which I'm thankful.

So. We're having to move again. The lady we're renting our house from decided to put it on the market, for her personal medical reasons. I'll refrain from any snark, thx. But whatever. We'll just move. So, that'll be in the works by the end of this month.

I miss my devil. I asked Natalie to keep Sephiroth over there when she gets home. Don't get me wrong, I love the great General with half of my heart, but he does monopolize space and time. And that's okay most of the time, but Dante was around first and I know it frustrates him when Sephiroth is around. And to the devil's credit, he just leaves rather than start a fight about it. Which in turn aggravates me 'cause I feel like I'm not worth fighting over. Annoying wheel, ain't it?

But Sephy does need to realize that he's not the only "boyz" in my life and I need to spend time with my other ones, too. I know he likes it at my house; it's quiet, cool and animal-free most of the time, and he can be comfortable in peace. But all the children need to take turns.

So, yah. animenadie, thanks muchly. I do so apprecaite it. -grin- And do does the younger twin. Believe me. He was most enthusiastic when I got home this afternoon. I really didn't want to get up and go to work. Damnit. But I'll have all weekend with my goofy devil and will revel in every blessed second of it.

I'm heading home Sunday morning for a ful-filled vacation with my insane family. Wow. I don't know if I'm excited or not. Don't get me wrong, I want to see my family, but I'm not sure if I can deal with their angst and issues. I just don't have time for that crap. It's pointless and inane and just aggravates me.

Still, I know they have to work through their own problems and there's nothing I can do to make it better except just be there and listen, I suppose. But when folks start chanting the same thing over and over, it just makes me tired. Wow, how karma comes back to haunt me on that one, God.

My mother still hasn't been home and she's been back from California since the beginning of the month. My brother's pissed off because Mother doesn't seem to want to come home, and mother's pissed off because he didn't give her his new cell number zomg!immediately.

...........................WOULD YOU BOTH GROW THE HELL UP, PLEASE!!!!

Mother of CHRIST, they act like freaking two year olds sometimes! If Mother wanted to go home, she would. She doesn't, because it's easier to just sleep on Beverly's couch and "help out" there; she doesn't have to be responsible for anyone else or face the fact that my father died in the living room. She doesn't have to be alone when my brother goes to work. She can be just as trashy and filthy as she likes and they don't give a shit because they're just the same.

Well, know what? That's her choice. She can do as she damned well pleases because she's going to have to deal with it when she finally splooshes into the hard unforgiving cement of ROCK BOTTOM, baby. I finally realized that no amount of me crying, stomping, screaming or yelling at her about it was going to change a single damned thing. So...so be it. I can't do it for her, damnit and I'm not about to slaughter my blood pressure trying. She wants everyone to "back off"; good, here's her wish.

And if Nathan wanted Mother to have his damned number, he would have given it to her. But it's kind of hard when he hasn't seen her for two months or so. He thinks she doesn't want to see him, which is just fine; he can believe what he likes. Or he can get his head out of his ass and grow some balls; whatever works. Bottom line is that he has to realize what I just bitched about in the former paragraph. The sooner he does that, the better life'll be.

Okay, enough about that garbage. Just...pray for me next week. I'm sure it'll be...interesting, to put it very mildly.

A good note: animenadie's coming back with me next Friday for her vacation! I'm so excited! -squee- We get to play Assassin's Creed and Rock Band all night long and go do stuff during the day. She's looking forward to meeting Emma and going to visit Michele for her birthday - which reminds me I have to get her present ready at some point, sheeze- and go to Sarasota Jungle Gardens and to the beach and to see the manatees at the power plant. Okay, end sentence.

But it'll be nice to have her all to myself for a while. And I know she needs the time away from family, good God. So yeah, I'm looking forward to that. Hopefully we'll have some stereotypical Floridian weather back by then.

All right, I've bitched enough. Have to go back to work now. Yays for paycheck.

And ginormous. But still. Live with it. :D

( The Wonder Boyz )

I made with random art found while browsing the internet and deviant art. So, if anyone knows the artists (I have 'em faved on DA, so hush) hug 'em for me. Cause the boiz is teh ossums.

The collage came from Picasa photo editing from Google. I LOVE that program. It's so much fun. Because we all know I'm photoshop retarded, so this is about as high tech as I get.

And here I am. Alone again on Christmas Eve. God, life sucks. My mother's borderline suicidal depressive, my brother doesn't know what to do to help her and I'm stuck down here with my annoying ass roommates.

I get home at seven, find Tim's daughter, baby and boything here having dinner. Did they bother to wait for me? Oh, fuck no. How surprising. I didn't even know they were coming for dinner. I didn't even know dinner was being fucking cooked tonight. Thanks, Margo. Srsly. Way to make me feel wanted.

And then, when I come in and put my stuff down, does someone come out to see me? Why, NO! Again, am I surprised? -snort- I distinctly heard her say from the dining room, "There's Emily!" and that was it. I'm not about to walk in there and be all friendly and charming like. Suck my fat one, bitch.

And then, they just have to bring that shrieking brat into the living room, on the other side of my bedroom wall where I'm trying to nap, you moronic fuckers, and start playing with him, getting him to scream and jump around and bang balls on the floor and walls. ...thanks. Srsly. I owe you a few for that. The next time you and your cock start grunting in the middle of the night, I'm going to throw a pot of boiling peanut oil on the both of you. See how you scream then.

So yeah, my night's going lovely. I'm pissed, sad, worried and just plain hurt. But I shouldn't be surprised. I've never been included since she found her new cock. Oh well. One of these days it'll stop working and she'll have to resort to plastic.

I think I'm going to get in the car and leave. Where to, I have no idea. Maybe the office; I have food there, leftovers and the like. And at least there it's fucking quiet.

I'm seriously contemplating calling Roger and Joanna and telling them I'm skipping dinner tomorrow. I don't have any clean clothes and I just don't feel like socializing. I'd rather spend the day/afternoon by myself or with my horse. The latter sounds like a good plan. God, I wish.

No, not what you think, perverts. :P

Anyway, finally got the pictures from our shoot downloaded and I put Picasa on my work computer and spent tonight mostly playing with 'em. :DDD

Clickeh deh linkeh, NAO, BIATCHES.

Oh, and Happy Christmas to everybody as it's unlikely I'll post again before then. Be safe and have a good holiday.

Christ, it's like they want you to choke on the damned things. Good Lord.

Oh well, they gotta right to do what they want with this here webspace, I suppose. Anyways, that's not my problem.

I really don't like the holidays. Too many things wrong with them. Number one, my father isn't here anymore. Number two, I never have enough money to get things for my friends and family, so I end up skimping and then feeling horrible because I'm single and underpaid and virtually worthless. Yeah, pity party me. Fuck the hell off.

Number three, I'm basically down here all by my lonesome. My entire family is in Mississippi and my roommates don't really count since I don't see them all that much. Which in retrospect is a wonderful thing. My internet buddies I'm losing touch with, it feels like. Our once-tight knit circle of folks has since dissapated with us getting bogged down in life and work and other trivialities. It sucks balls.

Granted, for a shocking once in my life, I have more real time friends than internet buddies - well, I say that, but actually it's a toss up on any given day. Thus that really doesn't count, I reckon.

I haven't had a pity party for myself in a while. I suppose everyone's due perhaps once a month, just to alleviate the stress of life. I really can't complain too much - shit, who'll listen anyway?

But on a good note, I do have Emma now and she's happy and healthy, for which I'm grateful. I do have good friends, even if they piss me off sometimes, but that's how it goes. Life isn't always roses and chocolate cake, it's more like briars and cooked spinach. Still, I like to complain and it's my just right mainly because I'm a girl and that's just tough shit if you guys have a problem with it.

I'm mean but I'm compassionate, I'm cynical but I'm respectful, I can be a bitch from hell but I'm rational and logical. And enough with the Morissette train of thought.

So, bearing all that in mind, this turned out to be a pretty choppy rant. Might have been the fact that I'm constantly getting interrupted because I'm at work, or the fact that I lost my thought train because I went out for dinner a bit ago. Whatever.

You guys can figure it out.